Such a long day. Taught my regular Saturday lesson in the morning, then picked up Josie and the simple drive up to Newcastle. Four hours of solid chat, such is this growing friendship.
Got to the venue, dumped stuff off, checked in at the hotel and we met up with James and Dan who were also doing the show with us. The venue management were stressed about poor ticket sales and the show started badly - the layout of the room didn't help (cabaret style, I felt distant from the audience and couldn't really get into them), the front row looked like they didn't want to be there. I tried to get them to sing and, gradually, people started to walk out. It's a singalong show, it's advertised as that...what did they expect?
I had a guest act lined up for the second half, my mate Jenni, but I got her on midway in the first half because the audience were clearly sick of me and I needed to get myself and the choir backstage to quickly work out an action plan on how to turn this around, it felt that awkward. We got back on and did the last 15 minutes of the first half but, with the exception of a nice old man called Geoff and a lovely old lady called Heather, nobody was willing to join in and the whole show show felt horrible.
Sat in the dressing room in the interval I felt so low. Why am I even doing this? I have a nice career as a music teacher, why am I putting myself through this?
Walked back onstage for the second half, a few more had now left - in theory we'd only lost 6 audience members, but when there's only 40 tickets sold, you notice the gaps even more. I got everyone who came back to sit closer to the front and we went for it. The result was wonderful...everyone who was still there were there because they were onside, and we blasted the whole thing with a bit of punk energy. EVERYONE joined in, possibly because I was probably performing like a psychopath. An audience member shouted out (in relation to those who had left early), "now those fuckers have gone, we can enjoy ourselves."
The whole thing felt like an in-joke, a private party. This show certainly divides rooms, doesn't it? 34 people thinking it's the best night ever, 6 people so angry they were demanding a refund.
I enjoyed the second half a lot, I didn't bother with the microphone because I was so angry with those who left I was now in mega shouty mode and did the whole thing without amplification. The thing that struck me most was just how much those onstage with me - Dan, James, Josie, Jenni and my mate Ade (who joined us for the second half) believe in me, and what I do. It sounds cliched, I get that, but I could feel their support, it helped a lot.
With the show done, we packed away and went to the bar and got drunk with those who had stayed for the show, with them telling us how bemused they were regarding those who stormed out. The venue manager came over and was initially unhappy, as nobody likes to give refunds, after all, but then she apologised for the fact that some of her "people" didn't get it, and still paid me my (gottta be honest, excessive) fee as agreed and wished me all the best for the future. We won't be back again, clearly, but it could have been a lot worse.
Dan, James, Josie, Jenni, Jenni's mate and a random audience member called Liam (who's girlfriend is the sister of a friend of mine, oddly enough) then went to the pub next door. It was very much a 'locals only' pub but we were pissed anyway. On arrival, the landlady came over and told us that she "doesn't like crowds of strangers who I don't know, so be quiet or you'll have to leave." It was a bit intimidating.
Ended up having a lock-in, getting on well with the locals, eventually staggering out at 2.30am.
A bizarre night. So bizarre. Back to the hotel to finally sleep, before Josie woke me up by having a pizza delivered at 4am.
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