3 September 2002
Open Mics

Endless apologies for the long absence. Hope you like the new upgraded look. I know the titles are laughably utilitarian, but hey, if it helps you find the entry you're looking for in the archives...

Open mics, when done right, are like families. You forgive crazy Uncle Fred, who always has too much wine and then gets up to deliver a strange slurred poem on erotic love. You look forward to seeing your beautiful cousin Monique, whom you've never met but who's known to have a bewitching voice, or your brother-in-law Damien, who can strum the hell out of a guitar. There's Aunt Maude in the corner, always photographing everybody. There are young 'uns who already have a CD out and are on tour and got on the radio the other day; there are the old-timers who only play for free to the people they love, and always will. There are rivalries and rumors and long-running jokes, the occasional teenage kid bored out of his mind. But you feel safe there, and it feels somehow like home.

When done wrong, it's a collection of self-absorbed musicians ignoring and/or dissing one another's performances, only to get up on stage to find that everyone is ignoring and/or dissing them too. It's like driving on the freeway: everyone's listening to the music in his or her own little bubble, cutting each other off when the traffic gets slow.

To me there are two tests for the quality of an open mic: the way the best performers are received, and the way the worst performers are received. Every open mic is going to attract some atrocious acts, being a come-one-come-all event by definition. At the good ones, though, the host treats them with the same respect as everyone else, adjusts the sound just as carefully, introduces them with equal enthusiasm. The crowd listens politely and applauds encouragingly, recognizing that it's all part of the night's show. But a good open mic audience is also a discerning one; it rewards bravery and talent. Some places seem to have such a culture of enforced fairness that they hardly acknowledge quality when they witness it (either that or no one's really paying attention). But when the room is pin-drop silent during a stunning performance, all eyes on the stage, then erupts into cheers and thundering applause afterwards, something good is going on.

- VT