Oooof. Looking for some words of wisdom from the group.
Last night's solo electronic gig did not go as planned. My 3U skiff fell out of my trunk when I opened it at the gig site and the lid broke (but saved the modules, so good job Pittsburgh modular). I checked everything before the show and it seemed to work. I was tempted to open up the case and unplug and replug everything but that would have destroyed the patch, which I would not have had time to test.
There's a button combo to clear the DLD buffer, which I was depending on for transitions among different parts of the set, but somehow it wasn't behaving.
AND I also realized I failed to anticipate something I should know from decades of playing in rock bands: it sounds really different in the venue. I practiced all week for it to be an improv set, brought a menu of things to do, and then tried to do them. I quickly realized the ringing feedback stuff I do that works in headphones or at low volume at home was not going to work with a speaker right behind me. Not without a compressor, which I didn't bring and couldn't quite patch up with the setup I had. Some of my tricks worked, and there were parts that were nice, and I followed the rule of not playing for more than 20 minutes, and changing what I was doing every few minutes, and the sets after me were noisier and weirder, and people said nice things afterwards. I even got invited to a nascent local synth group.
But *I* didn't feel good about the show. Normally I perform, things go as they go, but I'm part of an ensemble, and I feel fine afterwards. This was the most nervous I'd been before a show in many, many years. Took 2-3 hours after getting home for the adrenaline to leave my system.
I know @steubig does high risk improv gigs from time to time. Maybe others of you have similar stories to share. Any advice on recovering from one that doesn't go your way? I've got a rock gig later this week to cleanse the palate, but I am looking at my synths today with wary suspicion.
well this here is a big subject.
following is based on *decades* of doing improv gigs (some solo, some of 2–6 players). for a number of years, the only playing i've done has been improv.
first, you can't control if gear/logistics goes south on you. it's a drag: it *will* color the performance and make things feel worse. same with doing gigs with players and what/how they play. the audience can also color things. you make do and hope for the best.
second, i've done gigs/recordings where i *hated* what/how i played (sometimes the audience liked it, sometimes they said nothing) and came to a recording of it months later and realized it (i) did *not* suck. it's the nature of the beast. (also cross-reference with any possible gear/player/audience issues.)
third, the great thing about improv is that it goes out into the air and then it's done—unless it's recorded . . . and even then, a recording is only a snapshot of your journey/process (whatever you want to call it)—it's not the end-all, be-all. (note to self: remember this when you feel like $h!t after a gig.)
fourth, consider that you're creating something in real time, which implies the possibility of results being somewhere along a continuum of "success" and "failure." next, consider all the composers and artists who have thrown away what they thought were failures. and people grow into their art by doing it—it doesn't start out as genius, ya know?
fifth, your standards are most likely higher than the audience's. there's also the idea of your *expectations* and what you *want things to be* versus what they *are*. as older players, we have a certain amount of expertise, so doing something new that does not live up to our expectations/standards feels really bad (if we care!). it's good to have standards and be exacting in your desire to achieve them (do *not* phone it in.)
imo, improv is a skill that you have to work at—hard. even then it can be a crap-shoot, which is why it can be fun/harrowing/awful/transcendent. as you imply, playing solo is a different animal: you are out there naked with no one to take up the slack, so the stakes feel way higher . . . and the rewards higher as well.
okay, that was a lot . . .
in a nutshell: sounds like you didn't like your first gig. that's not the end of the world, keep at it.