Show Recap #2, shows we've done so far (part 2)

We did a show at a Chinatown Food Court that was really affirming, and I hope that my ramblings about community and art being an act of love can be a part of your self-care today.

Hi there.

I hope you’re taking care of yourself as we continue to be collectively traumatized by the state of this world. Your mental and physical well-being is important too. Your personal problems matter too. Tend to them. Maintain the stamina for hope.

I am going to update this substack because I have a duty to my need to have some sort of consistency in my life, and to my dear dear subscribers 😉

Hopefully, this can at least serve as a little break from doom scrolling…

Mott Street Eatery!!!!

As the name suggests, this is not a music venue. It is a foodcourt in Chinatown.

We were booked to play on a Saturday at 6pm.
In a FOOD court. In Chinatown.
Yes, prime dinner time for families.

I have seen music happen in food establishments.
In my experience, it’s usually easy listening piano, maybe a jazz quartet if the restaurant is feeling spicy. At most flamboyant, I have seen an Elvis impersonator sing Sweet Caroline in a room full of people enthusiastically whipping around their napkins at an Italian restaurant.

We are none of the above.

When people ask me “Do you sing in your band?”
I have to respond “Well, I mostly scream I guess.”

Do the families trying to enjoy dinner on a Saturday evening want to be screamed at?
My instinct told me probably no.

My anxiety was confirmed during sound check, where complaints of us being too loud sprung from various stalls. The problem with having a drum kit is that… there is only a certain extent to which we can adjust volume.

The first two acts Immobilizer and Zuriel Waters fit the vibe of the food court a lot better. Immobilize was sweet singing with two guitars, very comfy very Saturday very goes-well-with-dumplings. Zuriel did a solo clarinet thing that I have not stopped thinking about to this day. Half-hour straight of clarinet-ting was once again perfect for the space, as it was both impressive and unobtrusive.

This didn’t help in my fear that we were going to ruin it all.
Perhaps very unpunk of me to be worried about how people feel about our music, but if you pay attention to our lyrics, you know that I take eating very seriously.

The good thing is, stage fright? I don’t know her.

So, no matter how I’m feeling about the situation, throw me on a stage and I will do what I am there to do. The show must go on baby. (I don’t actually subscribe to this hustle culture rhetoric in my theatrical processes, but I digress.)

Once we started playing, the mood of the space shifted. Twice.

First, it was kind of the embodiment of a gasp.
They told us to be quiet! But we were still LOUD!

But then, people started standing up.
Children started head-banging.
Grandmas started shaking their hips.
Grandpas were smiling and clapping.
Someone was bopping their baby in the air above their head Lion King style. (The baby was wearing protective ear coverings FYI.)

Reliving this show as I type this is making me emotional because I actually think these are the kind of shows I really want to keep doing.

Don’t get me wrong, PLEASE I WANT TO DO SHOWS WHERE PEOPLE ARE MOSHING AND LOSING THEIR SHIT. But to me, this was the same energy and effect. Joyful, community gathering, sharing of a moment and people remembering that they can loosen up. That they want to dance. That they can jump and thrash and shout and let go.

The communal power generated in that space by people swaying their bodies over noodles WAS the same heart and freedom that I feel when I am in a fun and safe mosh. It’s all proof that people need art, people want music, and punk rock is love.

I will keep reiterating here that my knowledge of music is very limited.
I didn’t start a band because the ~*~*muuuusique*~*~ was flowing out of me.

The only thing I truly believe in is the feeling of liveness, and that everyone needs it or rather craves it whether they know it or not. Humans want to share frequencies with other humans. This can happen in a myriad of ways, and they’re not always “good” in execution (cults! people connecting over hateful shit!), but the desire is inherently human and to rile that up is all I want to do. Or can do. Hopefully in a positive way.

We have a running joke in FPOJ that we are a “vibe based band” because all decisions I make for our band is based on my intuition with no regard for how “bands usually operate.” I don’t even know how bands usually operate, I’ve never been in one. I’m a theater maker first. I’m not saying I’m proudly choosing to never pick up an instrument, but my main fixation is this nebulous idea of wanting to create a live-ass, carnal-ass space wherever we are playing. In my book, a group of people having an eye opening conversation over coffee can be theater. Making out with someone can be theater.

With zero humility, I know that my strength will never be “an unbelievably beautiful voice” and I can only hope to be above average after a lot of work at any instrument I commit myself to. I will leave the genius instrument playing to the rest of my band.

But I can make people feel happier about being strange. I can make people feel seen and connected to each other and to this world. The harder I work, more people will sweatily hug each other out of solitude.

All Mott Street Eatery Photos by Nancy Choi

When I got off stage, a grandma who didn’t speak English hustled towards me, grabbed my hands and kept whispering 謝謝 over and over looking straight into my eyes.

In crippling moments of imposter syndrome, I try to remember her.
As artists are constantly asked to prove our legitimacy via prestigious awards, grants & opportunities, follower count, financial success etc., lacking all of the above can be discouraging. But I know that I did a really good job at least once. Which means I can do an even better job next time as long as I keep caring and putting in the work.

Of course none of this would have even happened without the people who decided this nerdy little punk band would be a good fit for Mott Street Eatery. Shout out to visionary bookers! Maaaaany arts organizations can definitely take some notes…

Sending you big punk rock love today,
Non