A few years ago, I was asked to write a story for a website called Coffeehouse Tour about what it was like to be a solo folksinger/songwriter playing on the scene. Even after 4 years, these words still hold true as I am once again going at it solo. I thought I’d share this with you all so here ya go:
Straight From The Heart Of A Java Juker – November, 2005
We are really wanting to hear from you songwriters that enjoy playing in Coffee Shops. For that matter…we’d love to hear from the venues too! What inspires you to love it…support it? How can those inspirational Java Huts or musicians make it better for everyone? Our brand new feature effort begins with the voice of Don De Leaumont from Chapel Hill, NC. Don is a friend, peer and wonderfully talented songwriter 
He also happens to be one of the most motivated and dedicated Folk Singers I know. He brings with him a heart of gold and a support that does not lack anything for the Arlo and Bob’s of the folk singing arena He just plain folks! Head on over to his website and listen to some clips. Pop him a note and tell him you read his article and give him some feed back. And all you other Java Jukers out there…send us your stories, we promise to publish them. ~ Annette Warner – Editor
You remember that Bon Jovi song “Wanted Dead Or Alive”? You know, the whole “Rock Star as Cowboy” metaphor describing his life on the road and what not? Well anyways, in that song, he states “I’ve seen a million faces and I’ve rocked them all.” Well, that’s cool Mr. Bon Jovi but when you’re an acoustic solo folksinger, or duo, or whatever, this isn’t always the case. Sometimes I like to say that I’ve seen a million faces and I’ve rocked two or three.
We’ve all been there. You book a gig; you promote the living hell out of it. You use up all of the ink in your printer making flyers, and you hit the pavement and flyer every flyer post, record store, phone poll, bar bathroom that you can get your grubby mitts on. You’ve stapled yourself with your staple gun numerous times, you’ve frozen or sweated your tail off, you’ve been yelled at to not “hang your crap here”, etc. After all that, you get to the gig only to find you’re playing for the barista who’s wishing he/she were anywhere but working and having to hear this po dunk folk singer bitch about the government and how much he/she misses their significant other.
Been there eh? I have been there as well. I’ve been there more than once. So why do I keep doing it? I do it because I love music. I love going out and performing for people. How else would I get to see some of the cool places I’ve seen? The first time I was ever in Hickory, NC was because I had a gig there. It’s a beautiful town. First time I ever went to Greenville, SC was because I had a gig there. The first time I ever saw Chapel Hill was because I had a gig here when I lived in Charlotte, NC. Only by being a musician and having gigs in these towns have I been able to see some great new places and meet new and interesting folks.
I know we’ve all asked ourselves the same questions during the same situation. Gig, nobody there, why the hell am I here? Well, let’s be honest, how often to you play a gig when NOBODY is there? Not very often. How many times have you played a gig that had three folks there and you were disappointed because it wasn’t 30 or 100? Probably more times than you can shake a stick at. That’s just reality and that comes with the kind of music we play.
I had the opportunity to open for one of my heroes, Mr. Kevin Kinney from the band Drivin’ N Cryin’. He was doing a string of solo folk shows a few years back and was doing a show at the beautiful Sylvia Theater in York, SC. I had the privilege of being his opening act this night in front of over 100 people, my biggest audience to date. I remember sitting backstage with him before my set and he asked me, “Hey Don, how are the shows going?” I told him, “Man, kind of a drag. I’ve been doing a bunch of coffeehouse gigs playing to like 2 or 3 folks a night.” He turned to me with this serious look on his face and goes, “Don, when you play a show and there’s 3 people there, you give them the same show and same energy that you would give 30 people, or 300 people, or 3000 people. They’re there so make them happy. Entertain them. Besides, those three folks might know important people that could help you. Or they may just bring 3 more friends the next time you’re in town if you do a good job. Give 100% all the time no matter who’s there. If they’re watching you, you owe it to them.” I will never forget this conversation. This will stay with me for the rest of my life.
When I play a show, I try my best to give 100%. I might not always succeed for whatever the reason but I do try my friggin’ hardest. So I might not be playing the cool songwriter showcases. I might not be playing the swank listening rooms or the trendy house concerts. I play coffeehouses. That doesn’t make me any less of a musician or less of an artist. It doesn’t comprise my integrity and it doesn’t get me down.
I don’t make a lot of money doing this. That’s why I have a day job. I do this because I love it. When a person comes up to me after a song and says, “Hey, I really liked that song. It made me think of a happy time in my past.” That’s what it’s all about. Once a woman came to me and said that I reminded her of a band that she loved when she was in college and that it made her remember how much she loved and missed going to concerts. Another time, after a show a gentleman told me that I made him remember a time in his life when he was young and didn’t have a care in the world. He told me that his life is very chaotic and busy but my song made him remember the simple things; the happy things.
That, brothers and sisters, is more payment than I can ever even begin to ask for. You cannot put a price on that. That is what it’s about. It’s not about quantity, it’s about quality. It’s about giving it your all and loving what you do. It’s connecting with the song and connecting with the audience no matter how many people are present. If they’re not listening, don’t get mad, just keep putting it out there and eventually you may turn a few heads. That’s when you’ll know your making a mark.
Oh yeah, and don’t forget to tip your barista!
I loaded up the iPhone with some Allman’s and hit the road. One of the first things I noticed before I got to Macon was an exit sign for High Falls Road which was so insane because High Falls was actually playing when I saw it. I just smiled to myself and just knew it was going to be a fun trip. My first destination was The Big House. The Big House is the place that the band, their families, and various friends called home from 1970 to 1973. It was such a surreal feeling to be standing on the steps where these guys once hung out with their families, drank beer and just plain out lived. Unfortunately, the Big House isn’t open to the public until December but just being able to see it up close and take in the spirit of it all was a moving experience. I just smiled to myself, took a few pictures and then made my way back to the car.