Sandman's Journal

Tonight I channelled the ghost of an old, scared cowboy who just stumbled into a lesbian whorehouse. I shyly shared 15 or 20 songs knowing full well that I would not sell a single CD by night's end. Upon reflection, though, it wouldn't have been right if I had. The show which featured four great bands was free and Cex, who just had a full-page write-up in Rolling Stone this month played to an audience of only forty or so people and hawked CDs in a corner of the hostel's cafe. I did sell two of my $2 shirts and one $1 zine which paid for the chicken teryaki I ate before the show, but better than that I traded Cex three of his CDs for three of mine and we swapped shirts. His has a picture of Eminem and Kurt Cobain shaking hands on the front. He chose one of my $2 ones-- a tight yellow cut-off with "i know sandman" across the front. Rapatron kicked off the set in style, but I unfortunately missed most of it 'cause I was preparing the merch. Next came the Gross Gang who were loud and loose and... loud, (but good). Cex followed and swiftly disarmed the audience by telling stories and doing call and response stuff and stage diving though there wasn't one. His presence is large and I was glad to see him before he's playing rock arenas. After him, I fumbled forth with "All the Things I Done Wrong". What I really felt like playing at that point were the rest of my acapella cowboy dirges, but I felt obligated to pull out my "tricks" which might have been a mistake. Being billed as a "rapping cowboy" sometimes pressures me into alternating between honky tonk and rap when all I really want to do is just moan like a coyote. I made the audience uncomfortable with my obvious nervousness, but they stuck in there 'til the end. Cex was graciously exuberant about my set and said he'd contact me. Jessica and Danilo and Annessa all said they, too, liked it. Why then, I ask myself, did so many others avoid eye contact and leave me feeling like an 64-year-old, perverted rodeo announcer w/ testicular cancer and seven months to live? I'll tell you why: they were nervous, too. Next time I will try to love them better... (either that or I will slaughter and disembowel them with a shovel).