Erick Rudiak. Songwriter. Singer. Human.

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the Safari Cup open mic was that there was no mic. I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a Hummer H3 SUV because Jim, the host, came over and welcomed me in. I emailed him that morning asking about the venue, and he'd saved me a spot on the list. That was, in retrospect, pretty typical of the Safari Cup experience.

There's a lot to like about this open mic, and it begins with the absence of a mic. Having paid my dues at many a pub (Bird's Nest) and packed-to-the-gills coffee house (Kafein, Uncommon Ground), the chance to really connect with the audience and see how my songs do on a fair playing field — i.e. not competing for attention with a violent break of a billiards match, Rob Thomas and Santana on the juke box in the next room, or a hive of overstimulated social butterflies — is a welcome change. Nowadays, it's actually what I consider ideal; I think back to all the performing situations I've been in, and the ones where there's no mic (or stage) to insulate the artist's and audience's spaces from each other have been the most fun, be it someone's living room, the basement at Old Town School, or Yosemite.

While public rehearsal can be good for its own sake, the opportunity to connect with an audience is really the #1 ROI differentiator for an open mic. In Safari Cup's case, the folks I've met have been extremely gracious and have listened and interacted with literally every performer that I've seen come through, even the one who was probably looking for the pub next door, and another unforgettable patron who had an unhealthy scatological obsession that was coupled with an equally unfortunate outlet in song (yes, he handed out CDs when he was done). Getting to hear Andi C's R&B-over-acoustic-guitar covers is a treat, too; NWA and Beyonce never sounded so sweet.

I definitely plan to be back to Safari Cup. Until then, here's the story-behind-the-story of Terminal Love, as performed at Safari Cup on 27 January, 2010. Since there's no mic, you will notice that I pro-rated my 'facing the audience' time in any given radial direction based on how many people were sitting there. That night, they were mostly to my right... except for Nate M. (who was outstanding by the way), who was to my left for all but the briefest of moments.



P.S. This blog post was made possible by HandBrake and mp4box. Who knew a digicam that small could generate a file that large!

Someone I trust and admire suggested that I work on playing for "hostile crowds" recently, so I ventured out to find an unfamiliar open mic. openmics.org had a good list, but I ultimately settled on something from the Reader's selection: Fixx.

The space was warm and inviting. Lots to eat and drink, friendly barista (Lark, who sold the open mic remarkably well on the phone), and not too loud -- I barely noticed as it was happening that the crowd doubled over the 90-minute span of the open mic. Those who came to surf, surfed in peace. Those who came to enjoy some random music did so respectfully. Heather, the host, was organized and quite conscientious in checking the PA levels for every performed before going back into the room to listen. Everyone had a chance to play and nobody abused their stage time.

The open mic crowd was mostly singer-songwriters, though it was notable that the one comedian in the bunch was easily the tightest I've seen at an open mic in a long time: he had his routine down to where it felt conversational yet had no pauses or reaching-for-material moments. Although I wouldn't say the crowd was hostile in the spirit of my "assignment", they were definitely tough to win over: lines that get out-loud-laughs at Bill's Blues and Kafein bombed last night. Mental note. Chicago crowd. Also singer-songwriters. Not so easily amused. Eventually, I got a few well-timed smirks and some on-the-way-out pats-on-the-back, so I'm feeling good about the performance.

Bottom line: yeah, I'd go back to Fixx. It gets the Krusty seal of approval. Besides, I'm only a month away from playing my one big show for the summer (did I mention I'm playing a show), opening for Mitch and the Pole Cats at Hotti Biscotti, and I have a funny feeling that's going to be a more-hostile-than-usual crowd, so I'm going to need the practice. If you're the heckling kind, come on out and bring the tomatoes: it'll be Friday the 20th of July at 9PM!

Kafein open mic performers: 2006/08/14

All photos by Erick Rudiak except the photo of Erick Rudiak (duh): that one's by Pete and/or Nick (see below)

Kafein coffee house has had an open mic before (run by Tom, a very nice guy and aspiring singer-songwriter himself). Tom left for greener (read: Wrigleyville) pastures last summer and the Monday night open mic at Kafein has really only recently been resurrected by Nick and Pete, a.k.a Assembly Line Comedy. Whereas Tom primarily drew other singer-songwriter types to the open mic, Nick and Pete have managed to get a slightly more diverse group -- there have been far more comedians at Kafein the last two weeks than I'd seen on any previous night.

The format is a little different from the usual 3-songs/15-minutes/whichever-comes-first open mic fare. Most folks doing standup or poetry will typically get 5-6 minutes, singer/songwriter types will typically get two songs. It doesn't sound like much, but this is where Nick and Pete earn their keep: maybe it's their sketch comedy background, maybe it's just their personalities, but they maintain very good control of the crowd. I've been to two Kafein open mics now: one night, there were five people on the list and Nick and Pete took the extra time to work a few comedy sketches in and kept the crowd into the flow of the evening; another night, I was 10th on the list -- to their credit, Pete and Nick kept the open mic moving (I guess they didn't want to be coming home at 1AM either) and I was finishing up my set around 10PM. You may be playing only two songs, but you're going to be heard, which is really all you can ask for from an open mic, whether you're doing standup, poetry, or music. I've gotten more signups to my mailing list and given away (well, tried to give away - the good people of Kafein have consistently insisted on bartering goods for currency despite my protestations) more CDs in the last two weeks than I had in my past year of open-mic-going combined.

The sound system still leaves a little something to be desired - there's basically a vocal mic plugged into a small amp and, at least last week, there was a second, small Crate amp for a guitars. Here's the funny thing: Pete and Nick are just about able to pull this off. The vocal mic is just loud enough so that everyone can hear. I've played both the Lowden and the Martin there and I'm pretty sure everyone in the back of the room could hear me, knowing how loud I typically play and having heard a much more gentle guitar player (middle right in the photos above) just fine from towards the back of the room, without amplification. Again, a credit to Pete and Nick for setting up the sound and, moreso, for knowing when to remind the crowd to be courteous. I wouldn't go out of my way to play Ardoyne unless someone asked for it, but that's a small price - frankly, playing with my guitar unplugged is good practice for my house concert ambition :-)

The best part about open mic: cozy room (good lighting, plenty of opportunities to engage the crowd), and the oreo/brownie milkshake. The worst part: not sure if it's the standup folks who insist on swearing (trust me: modifying a noun with f***ing does not make the joke funnier. ever. really.) even though there are some little kids in the room or the occasional table full of Trevians being themselves -- then again, it's not fair to complain about that: if I had it to do over again, I might have been one of them, hanging out at the coffee house instead of only just learning to let it all hang out and have myself a good time somewhere in my 20's. The ultimate open mic question: would I go back? Yep.

I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that there is little use in looking for a "good" open mic or a "bad" open mic - rather, there are good open mic moments and bad open mic moments. Last Tuesday, I decided to take a night out and hit an open mic, just like the good old days. I originally shot for Kitty Moon on Clark since it was so close to home but, upon arriving there and finding the bar staff chuckling to one another ("Hey, this guy's here for the open mic") and the owner telling me, "sure, you can go ahead and play, there's plenty of musicians here" (they were mostly watching the Heat/Nets game and, as soon as it ended, all went into the back room to jam), I packed up my guitar and headed for Lilly's on Lincoln. Let's just call that a "bad open mic moment" (note: I noticed that Kitty Moon no longer lists Tuesday as an open mic night on The Reader's open mic listings page).

Lilly's is a fairly typical neighborhood pub, except for the architecture, i.e. it had some: plaster arches separating various "sections" of the room, the rear booth being elevated and offset from the rest of the ground level by some stairs, plenty of angles and nooks and crannies. When I called, the staff person not only answered my questions but got my name on the list (bonus points). The open mic itself started a half-hour late (not unusual - no points off there) with the host doing a single song to warm up the crowd before getting to the list.

The crowd, alas, is usually what makes or breaks an open mic - a receptive, warm crowd can buttress an average performer or sink a star. Such was the case last Tuesday: I had a decent set and, despite a distractingly tinny PA mix, with just a handful of people paying attention and whooping at a clever line or two, I felt like I did reasonably well. An hour later, the crowd had turned over considerably, which is the only reason I can conjure why Jeff Vezain, who was in town briefly between touring with The Lieutenant Dan Band, played an excellent set to pronounced indifference. Jeff's superior set (he even played Over The Hills And Far Away - if an open mic crowd can't get behind that cover, they won't get behind anything) won over nobody but me (I walked away most impressed with the dual-bridge structure of What You Deserve), through no fault of his own.

Jeff and I had one of our archetypal post-open-mic sidewalk talks afterwards and discussed the merits of the open mic. If you're a songwriter wanting to practice the feel of new material (it's never the same running through a song in the comfort of your own, familiar practice space as it is out in public), figuring out trouble spots and breathing cues, any warm PA will do. If, on the other hand, you're wanting to figure out if that new song is a hit, you need to know that the audience is at least willing to listen before drawing a connection between crowd response and song viability. If the crowd's not right, then you could be debuting Desperado and it would make no difference (as a matter of fact, I did, very briefly, play Desperado that night in response to a wisecrack from the front row).

Ultimately, we decided that it's difficult to characterize an open mic as "good" or "bad" since the presence or absence of a receptive crowd can vary from minute to minute, not just from venue to venue. Perhaps what makes a good open mic is the -probability- of a receptive crowd, but then again I've already gone over my lack of aptitude in statistics in a previous post. Was Lilly's a "good" open mic? I'd call it middle-of-the-road - it certainly had above-average organization, and spinning Serge Gainsbourg during "intermission" was a master stroke. Heck, I think bonus points should be awarded for having an intermission, period. One of the moments that can kill an open mic crowd is a long, awkward break between performers. Knowing when to have an intermission and pipe the canned music back into the room can really rescue an otherwise deadening moment in an open mic night. On the other hand, the architecture of the room made it considerably more difficult to engage the crowd: lines of sight were limited and I suspect the presence of walls muffled the sound considerably to all but the "front row." Would I go back? Sure. Would I go back to Lilly's in lieu of trying some other interesting open mics around town? Probably not.

Bill's Blues, on Davis Street in Evanston, had a Sunday open mic years ago when it first opened. It was hosted by Mark Smith, of the [in]famous Uptown Poetry Slam series at The Green Mill, and definitely took on his personality. Mark challenged us to write a song while at the bar for a $10 prize, then split the prize (literally) between me and Spartakeith (a very good guy who's since moved to LA to pursue his dreams). The current open mic is also on Sunday nights, but that's where the similarity ends. It's earlier, for one: I got there at 4PM to sign up, and the first performer went on at around 4:20. It's also the main attraction - everyone who was there was either working at Bill's Blues, performing, or with someone who was performing (notable exception: the table behind me, which had a couple, their 7-month-old daughter, and their Canadian friend.... who, ironically, walked in AFTER I performed Party Anthem -- they said that they were Lake Forest-ers who were just looking for something to do and came down to check out the open mic, which tells me that they're not likely to be back on any given Sunday). If you want to play for a big, young crowd that's mostly engaged in their own private conversations, Kafein on Mondays (to be reviewed later) is a better Evanston bet; if you want to play for a crowd that's paying pretty close attention, Bill's Blues might be your ticket. Finally, it was very well-organized. The hosts did a good job of keeping things moving: bonus points for NOT allowing a performer who asked for "1 more" to keep playing, for NOT signing themselves up first on the list, and finally for recognizing that there was time to go through the list twice if everyone did only two songs their second time up. Worst part: $3, 8-ounce glass of Sprite, mostly ice.