So this weekend, myself and the boys of Blood Buzzards played our first ever live gig together at WobbleFest in Aldershot.
This is the first time in 10 years, that I have personally been on stage after quite the dramatic experience last time, which involved me throwing my drum stick up in the air (which I usually caught without issue) hitting myself in the face, losing my balance on the stool and falling back off the stage getting caught in the curtain. It was the most spectacular, embarrassing, painful fall I have ever done.
To say I was nervous is an understatement! After a breakfast with friends, it really kicked in. I was starting to panic, my anxiety was kicking in, leaving me sat on my bathroom floor questioning if I could do this, if I was even good enough to play with these guys, questioning why they even wanted me to do this with them until my heart hurt and my chest was tight, in floods of tears.
If it wasn’t for my overly supportive friends talking me off the ledge, I wouldn’t have gone. I had got inside my own head, convinced myself I was no good, thought i’d forgotten everything I had learnt, every song, every queue. My panic levels had reached 200.
When it came time to head to the venue, it was panicking so much the thought honestly crossed my mind that breaking my ankle would mean I didn’t have to play.
I was driven there, because it was obvious if I had driven myself I just wouldn’t of gone simply. It was a ten minute drive from my house to the venue and I asked if we could go home five or six times.
Lucky for me, both Tom and Damo calmed me down enough that I was actually able to walk into the venue without vomiting, so you know – that’s nice.
What followed was the worst nauseating fear I have ever felt, I couldn’t tell you why, but it hit me. I could feel the panic rising higher and higher. Chain smoking and gum chewing over and over to try and settle myself.
As 3 o’clock edged closer, I was tempted to bail, just to run, get in the car and drive off. Until we were called to the stage and there was no turning back from there.
As I took my seat behind the kit, thinking shit shit shit, I can’t remember a single thing I have learnt.
I forgot how to count to four when counted in. I counted to six. Six. Not four. Who forgets to count to four? Me apparently. Six is the new four.
Once into the swing of the things, I was still nervous but getting more confident with every beat, with every smash of the snare and crack on the crash, I got more and more into it.
With only a few fuck ups and missed beats, over all, I’m pretty proud of us. We did pretty bloody well. I would happily do that 100 times more.
Hopefully we will do another gig soon, obviously you are all invited, because you never know, I might fall off the back of a stage again!
I just want to finish up by saying; without these boys my confidence in my music and drumming wouldn’t exist. They believe in me and I in them.