When Your Singing Sucks
There were moments last night when my singing truly sucked.
with Daniel at Upper Fourth on Oct. 10, 08.
I remember each of those moments vividly. The last note of “It’s Only Love.” The high phrase near the end of “I’ve Just Seen a Face.” The Ab in “Don’t Blame Me.”
AND there were moments last night when I never sang better. Actually, there were whole sets of songs that rocked. “But Beautiful,” “Being Alive” (as a samba, of course), and “Feeling Good.” There was a lot to be proud of.
But those sucky moments are the ones that kick my ass all night long and this morning. What WAS that? What happened there? How in the heck did that note just not work?
And when I have the answers to those questions, when I know what went wrong and WHY, I feel better. Because I know how to correct whatever sucked. But this morning, I don’t have a clue. And THAT bothers me. I mean, I don’t think I could even reproduce what happened if I tried. It just… happened.
This is when a mentor or vocal coach comes in handy. And since I don’t have one right now, I’m left to my own detective work.
I mean, sometimes, sucky singing just happens. I just hate it when it does. Especially when I’ve been working as hard as I have on my craft. But I have to remember that progress is a crooked path. It’s not a straight line to the stratosphere where ever day I get to sing better than the last and every gig is better than the last. It’s up and down, high and low, flop and soar. And these extremes can exist within one three-hour gig!
So, today, I’m taking heart in all that went beautifully last night as I dig deep into my investigation as to what sucked and why. And now, on to the next glorious gig this Saturday.
1Chris Alexander
wrote on 11 October 2008 at 16:22
Hi Nancy, I totally hear you. Dana is often on my case for my being too self-critical. I can usually remember, days after a performance, where I went astray, clammed chords, missed passage-work etc.
I think these sorts of things can happen despite all manner of preparation. There’s something about performing in public (different than running stuff in practice) that can cause you to, however momentarily, take your eye off the ball, lose a moment of focus, whatever… and then you don’t hit the note or chord, you physically don’t go to the place to accurately hit the pitch, whatever…
So Dana is, of course, correct that we should not be too self-critical. But that doesn’t mean we’re gonna stop doing it, right?
Another view is to look at things proportionately. In your post, you point out the good stuff… and even beyond the good stuff, I’m sure there was a lot of just fine singing. Now look at the flubs alongside that. They are small in number… and often, an audience doesn’t even realize that there’s a mistake! As performers who are used to “the show must go on”, we let those flubs fly right by, and almost always get right back on track… so the overall effect of the performance is negligibly affected by what we might think are huge gaffes. This kind of view often helps me not obsess too much over my mistakes.
I think you’ll find, upon reviewing your performance, that it was the momentary things that threw you. You’re a fab singer, you have great pipes, you *know* how to sing – I’m sure you were eminently prepared for your 2nd Friday at Upper Fourth. But – and especially for singers – the *atmosphere* of the performance can affect how it turns out. You’re in a bar, lots of distraction, stuff in the air that’s *not* there in your practice space… so occasionally there’s something that you can’t anticipate, that would adversely affect your ability to deliver any particular note.
It takes a very particular mindset to be able to perform like you’re in a practice room. Classical musicians tend to have this mindset – like my college piano prof, who had the uncanny ability to track every position of his 10 fingers at any moment during a performance (dang!). Your milieu is, by its very nature, affected by the audience or ambience. So… maybe you have to expect that “things” will happen (or insert your favored epithet for “things”), certainly to a far greater extent than classical performers.
Hope this helps!
Your knowledgeable fan -
Chris A.
2Ruth
wrote on 11 October 2008 at 19:29
A comment I once received helped me. To paraphrase: Nancy Tierney on a bad day still sings about one million times better than most people do! Or … I’d rather hear Nancy flub a note than get poked in the eye with a sharp stick … ??
In my own singing, the good outweighs the bad in general, and it helps to remember that. I’ve also found that 5 minutes of singing paradise keep me going for about two years of hard labor.
Every note you sing makes the universe a better place.