Why I don’t go clubbing

You see, I spent an incredible amount of my lifetime in live music clubs – almost always to play.

I have inhaled enough cigarette smoke to kill a hundred healthy men (in case you never noticed, most club stages put the musicians’ heads pretty close to the ceiling, where the smoke pools up) – sometimes I’d have to bend down to be able to see.

My Rickenbacker 4001 was snow white when I got it in 1977 – it’s nicotine ivory-coloured now. Sometimes I wonder if the inside of my lungs look like that.  (it’s the second one from the left in the pic below)

But the worst part?

If I’m not performing, I feel like I’m on break. I sit at the table with fingers drumming, one eye on the clock, subconsciously waiting for my 15 minutes to be up. Decades of playing live music in clubs has conditioned me to feel like this, and it doesn’t lend itself to enjoying the evening.

If I’m there, I’m there to play – and I give it every fucking thing I’ve got, because it’s all about you.

So – if you invite me to your gig and I don’t come, this is why. It’s just too much like going to your place of work, then just sitting there instead of working.

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