Good Morning Sickness
My name is Neil Klemz. I’m one of the guitarists in this project of ours called Dramaglider.
If you don’t know who we are – and chances are you don’t – somewhere on this site (probably right about here) you’ll find a spiffy little bio that details our brief history, along with some vague and sordid information about each member of the group.
As I’m writing this, dramaglider.com has been up and running for only a couple of weeks. Since it doesn’t appear to have completely self-destructed, I figure now’s about as good a time as any to break the ice and start posting some stuff on this blog.
One of the advantages of being a band that’s new and flying completely under the radar is that we can screw around, screw up, make some blunders, missteps and miscalculations without any real pressure or eyes on us. Which is totally perfect for this blog, because I doubt anyone knows what it’s going to be. Heck, I don’t even know who is participating in this thing! Or if they even want to!
In a very generalized way, our first year together was spent figuring out if all six of us could write, record, perform, and co-exist in a way that satisfied all of our creative needs. CAN we be a band? And in a lot of ways, year two is shaping up to be one spent figuring out HOW to be a band. I don’t know about you, but I find that journey awfully exciting, and I want to share it with you as we go along.
But I need to take a moment here and stop. Again, the sole reason why I’m posting today is to break the blogging ice. So on that note, without further ado, here’s a photo of a fuzzy cat:
I took that earlier this morning while I nervously strummed through our material.
My biggest fear as a performer has always been walking up on stage, getting ready to rock, and then completely forgetting how to play. As a way to combat some of the anxiety that inevitably develops in the hours leading to show time (we’re apparently playing tonight), the morning of every show I purposely strum through the entire set list at mach speed. Depending on how much caffeine is scorching through my veins, I may play great or I may play poorly. But the small victory of getting through all the songs puts me at ease and allows me to worry about other complicated matters like wardrobe, or how I’m going to part that one unruly hair on my head.
I wonder what kind of rituals or routines my fellow Dramagliders go through while preparing for a show…?
Tag. They’re it.