Contributed by:
Simon Moya-Smith/YourHub staff
Article Contributed on: 4/7/2009 12:01:56 PM
Life is a funny thing, and it seems to happen randomly in car rides to Brighton.
Sitting in the front passenger seat of my friend
Crystal's car, then only 19 and a freshman at CU Denver, I began to sing along with a philosophical song from one of my all time favorite bands, Tool.
"46 and 2 is just ahead of me!" I bursted out in harmony and melody while she drove us back to the city of Brighton. (Although raised primarily in Edgewater, Brighton is the town by which I hung my hat for several years and inevitably graduated high school from.)
My friend and now roommate
Juan was sitting in the back seat when I heard him comment, "You sound good, Simon. You know what you should do? You should try out for a band."
At that time in my life, I didn't consider myself a singer, let alone a good one. But, everything, I feel, is worth at least one try. If it doesn't work out, hey, at least you gave it a go. And isn't that what life's about? Opening yourself up to new opportunities? Yes, indeed.
Well, not but a couple of weeks later I found myself in the downstairs rehearsal space of a local band seeking a vocalist and lyricist. (One day, while sitting in the American Indian Student Services office on campus, I was informed by a friend that a fellow student was looking for a singer for his band. Naturally, I made my intentions known. A prompt conversation lead to an invitation to audition that weekend.)
"OK, Simon. Show us what you've got," said
Gabe, the drummer of the band, as he comfortably situated himself in this blue, somewhat tattered reclining chair.
Standing at the mic and nervous beyond measure, I sang with as much passion as I could muster. From one end of the room to the other, my voice reverberated off the basement's plaster walls.
I wasn't finished with the first verse, almost to the chorus, when I saw Gabe and several other band members glance at each other, nodding in satisfaction and spawning grand smiles. Soon thereafter, they officially offered me the position to be their front man and lyricist. Excited and visibly perspiring from the previous jitters, "Sure," I humbly responded with a smile traveling from ear-to-ear.
And that's how it happened. A musician was born. Having no premature desire or intentions at becoming vocalist or a lyricist, and prompted by a dear friend's compliment, I found myself endeavoring in an adventure full of passion, perils, egos and a sea of creativity. (Local music is monstrously competitive. Some musicians are friendly. Some are unscrupulous. Battles ensue within a band as much as from without. But, as is the nature of competition at its foundation. Se' la Vie.)
Now 25, I since have sang for a variety of local bands and other musical projects, rocked at numerous live music venues - Herman's Hideaway, The Toad Tavern, Larimer Lounge and the Gothic Theater to name a mere few - and have also spent countless hours in the recording studio, perfecting a melody until I'm hoarse and unintelligible.
If you're in a band, a choir or if you're a painter, sculptor, writer or the like,
YourHub.com is your untapped marketing source. It's the manager that you don't have.
Log on (you're here at my blog so hopefully you already are) and register to post your gig or art exhibit along with all the details - location, admission cost, age restrictions, etc. All submissions are considered for our weekly print section. If your event runs, thousands of people will see it in the weekly print calendar within the given region.
A 'hmm' moment
It seems, I've concluded, that a metaphysical force is leading me down a path of its choosing. Because, and it is no secret, I never quested to be a writer, just like I never quested to be a vocalist. These things just happen. Why? I don't know. I don't question the infinite very often; instead, as a finite being, I strive to comprehend what little I can.
End hmm moment
With all due respect,
-S
Click here to read a story on Denver local music booking agent
Mark Sundermeier and The Toad Tavern.