B.B. Rover's open mic Sundays (a.k.a. "Jollyville City Limits," a.k.a. "the longest continually running open mic in Austin") are no more. Co-owner David Patrick Dunn introduced live music to Rovers approximately three decades ago, and yesterday he presented its last open mic night, a special, daylong event from noon to 10 PM.

Twenty-four acts played 20- to 30-minute sets before a large crowd who came to share this end-of-an-era extravaganza and to reminisce about their fondest BBR memories. Fittingly, Dunn played the final songs on the stage that he built. After we put away the mics, stands, and cables, I turned out the stage lights for the last time.
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Yesterday marked the end of an important chapter in my life, a chapter that started in bitter sadness with Sheri's passing, six years ago to the day. Rover's open mics provided me with a sort of grief therapy, a reason to get out of the house, to mingle with people, and eventually to play music professionally. Through Rover's open mics, I have met an amazing array of musicians, singers, songwriters, and music lovers, and I'm extremely grateful to each of them for their camaraderie, support, and insight over the years.

The Trio had a pretty good gig last night at Georgetown's Uptown Social Club; however, I later discovered that I left my main harmonica case there. I feel incredibly STUPID for doing that. Now I have about $300 worth of harps to replace, and our tips were nowhere near that good.

Yes, I am a singer-songwriter who dares dreams to be a songwriter. In other words, I'd love to be able to write my songs for other (read: younger, prettier, more talented) folks to perform while I sit at home and collect some kind of royalty checks. Until that happens, I have to perform them as best I can.

It's been quite a learning curve for me, being the late-starter that I am ("Austin's oldest newbie musician" a few short years ago). Below, you'll find my Top Five Live, a set of rules-of-thumb for all my singer-songwriter friends (self included) who perform original material.

1. Respect the audience. The crowd is the best barometer for your songs. Guy Clark said he didn't consider a song completely written until he'd played it for an audience a few times, and I agree. Even once I'm satisfied with the music and lyrics, the crowd's response often suggests which parts to emphasize when I play it.

2. Enunciate, dammit! What good are your clever lyrics if nobody can understand them through the PA system? If you believe in your song, give the audience a chance to appreciate it in all its glory. Also, slow down your comments between songs, especially if you use reverb in your vocals. Too often all the crowd hears is mumble mumble, mumble, followed by your weak laugh to indicate a punchline.

3. Keep intros short. As Jack Pledge once said to me, "If your song needs a long, spoken introduction, then maybe you're not done writing it." Put another way, have faith in your own material. Explaining a song to the audience ahead of time suggests that it doesn't tell its story as well as it should, or that without this information, it's impossible to enjoy the song.

4. Let the audience participate. Some songs seem to invite the crowd to sing along; however, some singer-songwriters seem determined to deprive the audience of this delight (see October 9 entry). Why trick them with odd lyrical phrasings or rhythms in those singalong parts? Likewise, if the crowd gives you a big ovation after a song, let them build up and wind down naturally. Too many performers rush the audience reaction, as if they have no time for that kind of dilly-dallying.

5. Use pauses for good effect. Keep the show moving at the right pace, but don't feel obligated to fill every moment of your time with song or banter. Better to give the audience a short rest than to blabber whatever pops into your head between songs. (NOTE: I must admit that I sometimes find it easier to give this advice than follow it.)

The Trio was back in Bryan today, and we sure had fun. On the way home, we stopped at Taylor Station Bar to see our friend Evelyn Billington play.

Robert Salas hosted a singer-songwriter variety show at the Black Sparrow Music Parlor, and I  jumped at the chance to play in Taylor again. Great crowds! When Paul and I launched into "Hot Pepper Tamale," the crowd went wild, especially as they helped out with the horns. Just incredible. Thanks to that wonderful Taylor crowd and to Shannon Gilbert Bagent, the Black Sparrow's owner and sound engineer.

The Kaye Pasa Trio closed the show at Roots Bistro in Georgetown as part of the Come Hell or High Water Concert Series benefiting hurricane victims. Jo Ellen Lyons hosted the evening, and we were delighted to be sharing the stage with a trio of incredible acts: Aegean, Shoddy Posture, and MorningStar. Special thanks to KGTN, 😎106.7FM, for broadcasting the show, and to the Roots Bistro crowd for being great.   

I enjoyed playing in Taylor again (third time in two months). In fact, I didn't take a break for the two-hour show and even stretched it an additional 20 minutes for a trio of walk-ins who stayed for the entire second hour and then some.

It had been a while since I'd performed without the trio, and I was a little nervous about it. Turned out to be a pretty good night. Thanks to Curb Side owner, Joh, and the friendly barista, Jessica. Special thanks to my fan and roadie, Soose.

As a singer-songwriter who dares dream to be a songwriter, I recently realized that I need to treat the humble chorus with more respect. In some of my songs, the chorus lyrics change with each refrain. I hear it in other people's songs, too.

Occasionally, this "evolving chorus" technique actually advances the song's story line, but more often than not, I worry that it sounds like the songwriter was trying too hard to be clever. Or worse, he simply couldn't decide on a which chorus was best.

Audiences love a good chorus, that's why so many songs have one. It gives a sense of familiarity to a song even when hearing it for the first time. Changing a line or two (or even a word or two) with each refrain deprives the listener of that feeling.

Not every song needs a chorus, and not every song needs a consistent chorus, but I feel that I may have overused the evolving chorus approach. With that in mind, I'm revisiting some old songs with fresh ears, and in songs to come, I'll try to give each chorus the respect it deserves.

Although the rain stopped an hour or so before the show started, the humidity in the air played havoc with our guitars' tuning and left our set list looking like wet tissue paper. Special thanks to David and Richard (down from Plano and Waco respectively). Josh played mando with us for the first set. He'll be back for the next Tribe of Clyde next Wednesday.