Greg A'd me something

"I've never seen you struggle to hit a note even when singing a cappella. Do you have perfect pitch?"

Want to “Ask Me Anything”? Add your question in the AMA section HERE.

---

Dear Greg,

Oh man - I don’t remember this at all. Not that I don’t believe it could have happened. Trust that if I said those words, it was my own insecurities at play. I was likely deep in the muck of my own head.

It’s hard to nail down when crowd participation became such a crucial part of my show. There were inklings of special spontaneous moments that arrived organically, and I learned to develop them into something repeatable.

By 2011, I’d been badgering people into singing the refrain of Robots for several years. It was a carnival and I was the Ringleader. I’d crowd-surf. Or stand on tables. On more than one occasion, I remember stomping along the bar counter, grabbing a pint glass, pouring myself a beer and trying to drink the entire thing mid-song. Back then, I was on a mission to outdo myself every night. I wanted the show to feel larger than life.

On some level, I’d painted myself into a corner with Robots. It was hard to be larger than life on nights when I felt small. We’d still play Robots, of course, but I wanted to end with something a bit more reverential or emotional. At some point, I encouraged an audience to sing the “ooooh” notes to So Much For Everyone and something just clicked.

I realized quickly how powerful it is to ask a crowd to sing. And not just to “sing along”, but to be the song itself. I’m often right in the middle of the crowd for So Much For Everyone, and when I look around, I see the most magical smiles. People hugging. Tears. Folks who normally feel that they “can’t sing” seizing the moment, belting it out.

There are many elements at play - that the whole can be greater than the sum of the parts; that humans naturally tune to each other; that there is power in numbers; that we can lose our inhibitions when given permission to do so.

Finale Lighting v1 - “The Hammer”

We began finishing each show on the floor amongst the crowd, but in order to be visible, we’d have to turn on the house lights, which killed the vibe. All of a sudden you could smell the spilt beer. So we developed various ways of illuminating ourselves in theatrical ways whilst keeping the halls dark.

Finale Lighting v2 - “The Orb”

I’ve said this before, but I think that after experiencing a great show, we should feel like we want to do things. Climb a mountain. Plant a garden. Write a poem. Call your mom. It should feel like despite the evidence otherwise, the pros of existing truly do outweigh the cons. That things are possible. That’s how I hope people feel at the end of my shows. I can’t say for sure that it works all the time, nor for everyone, but these days, it is the intention.

Finale Lighting v3 - Illuminated guitar sound-hole & lit percussion for the band

I’m not a legendary vocalist. In professional terms, I’m an adequate guitar player at best. I gave up long ago on trying to perform music perfectly. It’s just not in my wheelhouse. But I’ve developed a different skill that feels good. I’d like to think that, through song and through focused intention, I can make people feel invited. Welcomed. Accepted. At least, when I’m at my best and in my skin.

Music remains the vehicle, but those feelings of unity, as fleeting as they may be, is the intended destination. No doubt, the show will continue to evolve over the coming years, but I predict that crowd participation will remain an important cornerstone of it all.

Love,
Dan