Postcards
June 28, 2000
Life and Music Beyond the F Train
by Sam Shaber
 Postcards is a journal of life on the road from Sam Shaber, written specially for readers of Harmony Central. Each installment will reflect on the trials and rewards of touring, as experienced by this New York-based solo artist.
When people find out I'm a touring singer-songwriter their first question is always, "What types of places do you play?" And I always have trouble answering them.
 I've been touring for about three years, and for this particular trip I've been on the road for a couple of weeks now. The last few days have been the perfect example of the strange kind of alternative lifestyle I lead. Though based out of New York City (an alternative lifestyle in itself, I suppose!) I'm on tour down South right now. Land of cars with fishes on their bumpers, Waffle Houses, Shoney's, and Steak 'n' Shakes.
Can you tell I'm a little homesick? Gimme the F train any day!
Anyway, the big gig this trip happened Thursday, June 8, at Eddie's Attic in Decatur, Georgia, near Atlanta. Eddie's is a wonderful club focused passionately on the singer-songwriter -- an oasis in the desert of the road. There are three rooms in the club: a patio for eating, talking, watching the game, and smoking; a pool room for eating, talking, playing pool, and smoking, and the music room where there is no talking, no smoking, still food to eat, and lots of great music. A sign runs from floor to ceiling along one panel on the stage, asking people to take care of these traveling artists by refraining from talking, paying attention to them, and respecting their craft. Eddie Owens, the owner of the Attic, stands by his beliefs. Thankfully, he has stood by me as well.
 Thus on Thursday night I was able to open for Michelle Malone and Shawn Mullins as part of a benefit for the locally based Actor's Express Theater. The main excitement for me prior to the show was the chance to meet and play for Shawn and Michelle. But I realized when I stepped onto the stage that the real reason to be there was to perform for a packed house of attentive ears in a venue far from home. The fact that the show was for a good cause added to the feeling, and I had a wonderful set, playing with gusto the two songs I was allotted.
The amazing thing about this business is that two songs played enthusiastically to the right audience can be worth more than any three-hour set in any bar in the world. I sold 13 CDs off those two songs (one of which wasn't even on the album) and added a bunch of names to the mailing list.
And I did get to meet Shawn Mullins, which was a great thing in itself. He apologized for missing my set but happily took a CD from me and chatted for a little while before going on. The feelings were quite mutual in talking about the struggle and frustration of this thing called making a living in music. I talked about a competition I had lost by the skin of my teeth earlier in the week which put me $1,000 farther behind than the winner, and Shawn said, "Yeah, but you're doing what you love. That's something. Beats a stiff job 9-5 with a tie and a desk. Think of all the jobs you don't have to do."
"Oh yeah," I agreed, "I think about that every time I hand change to a tollbooth collector."
"Yeah! Exactly," he replied.
It was also exciting to learn that Michelle Malone had heard my two songs and was impressed. "We should keep in touch," she said. Cool by me, I thought.
But the reality of touring again reared its head when the Borders Books and Music gig in Snellville, Georgia I had booked for the following night fell through due to over-booking and I thought "Yeah, that's the way it works. One night I'm hanging with Shawn Mullins and Michelle Malone, and the next I can't even get in at Borders!"
 So I went instead to the show running at the Actors Express Theater, since they offered me a comp ticket for putting time in on their benefit. And as if I had requested it, the show, a beautiful one-woman piece called The Gimmick, written and performed by Dale Orlandersmith, was all about the artistic struggle. It faced the issue from a Harlem girl's point of view. It followed the fight against drugs, poverty, apathetic and addicted parents, and all the temptations that go along with life in a ghetto, and then the slow rise of art and self-reliance and the gaining of control over a life so challenged. And by the end of the play, the character, Alexis, could confidently call herself an artist.
I was crying so hard by the time the lights went up, that I made a bee line for the door of the building and my car beyond. I had to breeze past members of the Express Theater crew who had recognized me on my way in from the benefit the previous evening. I was so emotionally charged that I knew I wouldn't sleep, so I went to a late-night showing of High Fidelity, which calmed me down significantly. Finally, I headed back to the suburban home of my cousins where I had stayed for the past few days.
Next Page: Saturday brought a whole new set of adventures....
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Sam Shaber is a solo artist who has spent most of the past three years on the road throughout the U.S. and the U.K. Her articles have appeared in Musician, Performing Songwriter, and Home Recording. She is about to release her third album on her own Brown Chair label. For further information, visit www.samshaber.com.
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