A big something

The Roches, a band that has influenced my music to an embarrassing degree, have a song called "Big Nothin'" and it's probably about how they went on a TV show like the old Tonight Show or Saturday Night Live, I really don't know which. It was about getting this big opportunity and finding it to be terribly disappointing, and I thought about it when I went to New York to hear my song sung in this New Works Cabaret thing. 

The short version is that Lily Gilan James sang my song at a fancy cabaret space in New York, and she sang it beautifully. Check it out: 

It was definitely a big something, and not a bit disappointing. It's hard to process a career opportunity or breakthrough, but I'm gonna try. 

There's the question of has it opened doors? But you can't answer that on the morning after. The answer is, maybe. The question is was it successful? The answer is hell yeah. My song was sung by a musical theater professional who I've never met before. It was music directed by another music theater professional I've never met before. The song was sung brilliantly; people felt stuff. I didn't have to be there to micromanage to make sure they got it right. I wrote it well enough that they figured out how to get it right without my help.

It was also successful because it turned into a capital-E Experience. I have friends who got on planes to go to New York to hear four minutes of music by me (but there was lots of great music by other people, too.) I was loved and supported, and having friends to experience it with magnifies things. 

There are always friends who say “just enjoy it.” They are right, but it’s not that simple if you’re an overthinker with big feelings. It’s good advice. I enjoyed it, but I also struggled. The song is so personal. The song is about feeling rejected by my own family over decades and finally making a painful choice. I get a little bit sick when it’s time to reveal secrets, even if they’re not that secret.

I also think you know you’re making art if you have that “I can’t believe I just told you that” kind of feeling. 

But I also have this other feeling, which is that being an exceptional songwriter is a beautiful garment that I haven’t always had the nerve to wear. I wore it in New York, even as I felt sick and scared; it fit me and I wore it.