My name is Rachel. I found your wonderful site last week. This is very timely for me, as I am in the midst of examining (for the 1,000th time, it seems), why oh why I don't perform for a living. 

I am a singer who has extensive studio experience, having sung dozens of jingles, as well as recording my own original songs. I have performed in bars, in various bands, on the road and at home. I have sung jazz, country, and blues. My experience with audiences is that I am accepted and applauded. I have been told how relaxed I appear on stage. 

Now! If I enjoyed it, all would be well indeed. But, I get so frightened of forgetting the lyrics as I'm singing them, that it prevents me from booking gigs in the first place! Instead, I work at a day job that is less than satisfying and not in the least bit creative. 

In the past when I have performed, I have more than once had the scary feeling of forgetting the very next words I'm about to sing, and have felt an instant rush of panic right up until the words just come out at the moment they need to. This feels to me like tipping all the way forward on a high ledge and being yanked back and saved at the very last minute. Not fun. I can't forget myself long enough to have any fun. So I stop gigging. 

What happens is that I go along for a few months trying to ignore the deep yearning inside, but of course all the while it haunts me that I'm not singing. So I get together with some musician friends and get all fired up about singing again. I write out all the lyrics to all the tunes I want to do, and use them extensively during rehearsals. 

When we book a gig, I'm scared to death. I use my lyric book on stage and when I sing jazz, I just use a music stand and glance at the words as I need them (like a crutch). When I sing country, I "hide" behind my singing partner and just do harmonies, and get most morbidly terrified and jam out of, having to sing solo, unless it's a tune I've been doing forever. I've even been known to strategically place lyrics on amps, etc. 

Needless to say, I think it's cheesy to have to use lyrics on stage at all, and I know that it definitely prevents me from going anywhere career-wise. This breaks my heart and goes against every cell in my body. Please help me. 

Thank you for reading all this angsty stuff. 

Very sincerely, 

Rachel 

Just wanted to let you know I got your e-mail. But I'm just getting ready to go out. I'll read it over again when I come back tonight and have an answer for you by tomorrow. If you happen to get this message before I get back tonight can you give me a little more information:

How long have you been singing? How old are you? Where are you from? What do you do in your day job? And who the hell told you that you have to get the words right? Did you read my "How To Make Mistakes" article?

Go to: http://www.nefsky.com/mistakes.htm

--Art

To follow your dream and work as a singer (apparently with some success) and then switch to a job that is not in your heart because you're afraid of forgetting the words is not only a waste of talent, but a potential tragedy.

This business is tough enough -- with a lot of aspiring singers wishing that they achieve a fraction of what you've accomplished, and from what you've said -- it's not that you've even had a track record of forgetting the words on stage -- it's the FEAR that you're GOING to forget ("fortune telling") -- and then you come through at the last second anyway.

In my classes I talk about two types of people: "fortune tellers" and "psychics". Fortune tellers are the ones that say, "Every time I get into this type of situation I mess up.", or "When I hit this note my voice is going to crack." or, "Every time I get into a relationship, it's over in six weeks. The psychics say, "I know what you're thinking... You probably think I suck! You probably think I'm nuts. You probably think I shouldn't be doing this." (You get my point.)

Please understand that I am in no way invalidating or trivializing your problem. I totally understand and sympathize with you. If the anxiety is so great that it takes the all fun out of doing it, then what's the point?

So, I'm going to do my best to help you. And what's more -- you will go back! You will get your dream again.

As I've said in my correspondence to others, it's much more effective when you're in my classes -- experiencing, rather than intellectualizing and writing back and forth has it's limitations -- but I think it will work.

You're going to have to read very carefully and tell me your thoughts.

If you haven't read these articles that I've written -- do it NOW and then come back to the rest of this.

There are a few points that I want to make.

First of all, the impression that I get is that your brain doesn't trust your body. Your body seems to know what to do automatically but your brain is getting in the way. You're thinking too much.

Let me give you a couple of analogies. I go to the bank almost every day and use the Instant Teller Machine. For years I would go to the machine, punch in my four digit code and do my transactions. I've had a few bank cards with different codes, but for the last couple of years I've kept the same code for all cards.

One day I go to the bank, pop in my card, and all of a sudden, my mind goes blank. I can't remember my access code. The more I thought about it, the worse it got. I tried old codes, shots in the dark, but nothing. I was afraid that if I tried more than three times and got the wrong code, security features would kick in and eat my card. So this is what I did. I went across the street to the Variety Store, looked at a couple of magazines, talked to the owner... bought some candy. Then I strolled to the bank (pretending I was going for the first time that day), and without thinking (going totally on automatic) put the card in the slot and let my fingers press the buttons. Now, I'm not kidding. I still didn't know the numbers, but my fingers remembered which way to go. I literally had to watch my fingers and see what it was doing. It's difficult to explain. I couldn't remember the numbers, but my fingers remembered where to touch. By NOT thinking about it... I could do it.

Have you ever had a job where you had to type? Imagine that you're just zipping away at your computer or typewriter and your boss comes over and looks over your shoulder. All of a sudden you start to get self-conscious, slow down and start to make mistakes. You begin to think that if your boss would just get lost, you would be fine. Well guess what? You're looking over your own shoulder! If you could just tell YOURSELF to get lost, you'd probably be okay.

Moral of the story? THE MORE YOU THINK, THE WORSE IT IS -- THE LESS YOU THINK, THE BETTER IT GETS! (No kidding... it's true.)

Easier said than done though. I have much more to say but I'd rather you read all the material on my site first so that I don't repeat myself. Get back to me with comments and we'll take it from there. Hope I can help.

-Art

I received your mail and thank you for your very speedy response. As you advised me to do, I read your entire site. Bravo! I love your "caring kick-in-the-ass" style. It's what I need, all right. As my dad would say, a swift one. 

In answer to some of your questions, I've been living in "out west" for the past 10 years, coming from Ontario. I've been singing professionally since I was 19, and I'm now 34. The angst has ebbed and flowed throughout my "career". I sang jingles from the time I was 20 till I was 26, feeling safe in the cocoon of the perfectionist's dream, the recording studio. I felt at home from the minute I stepped foot in one. I used to ride my bike daily 7 miles each way (on broken glass!) just to hang out in an up-and-coming studio and be "on-call" if jingles came in. They did, and I built up a good demo reel for myself, making the odd $25 - $75 along the way. I didn't care about the money... then! 

After a couple of years I branched out to different studios and would take the Go-train to Toronto and do jingles at a Toronto studio, and I did a demo. This all seems like several lifetimes ago, and instead of feeling proud of myself, I feel like a failure for not having continued. 

You see, all the while, I was suffering with panic attacks and generalized anxiety. I would panic for 2 hours on the train, get in the studio, and be just fine. Needless to say, I was not at all comfortable on stage. Felt like a fish out of water, but still I did it a time or two in a couple attempts at starting bands. My anxiety always got the best of me and I would stop. I managed to go on the road for a month or so at a time, but in Northern Ontario, it felt like a year! I had a full blown panic attack on stage in Thunder Bay at some disgusting bar. So as you can guess, I wasn't to keen on returning night after night. 

Fast forward to present day, and let me say that I have now conquered my anxiety disorder and never ever get full-blown panic attacks anymore because I have learned how to short-fuse them quickly. Over the years, the anxiety squelched my dream so painfully, that between bouts of giving up on it, I would make wild attempts at getting over it and diving back in, never actually addressing the root of the problem. I would let people hear me sing -- then if it looked like things were gonna take off for me, I would retreat. So I've had a most frustrating and erratic career, if you can even call it that. So you're damn straight when you say that my mind doesn't trust my body. It's my entire history. 

After moving out west, I got a job as a receptionist at a recording studio. I also sang jingles. After a year of that, I met a guy with whom I ended up having one child, then 3 years later, another. So I stopped working AND singing (and being). I am no longer with my sons' father. 

In '93, I met a songwriter and we formed a partnership (music and life), and we booked a few gigs, always with him singing lead and me singing harmonies. We developed a "sound" that way, but really it was me hiding. Because that way, I didn't have to have the spotlight but I could still be in the game. After 3 years of that, my comfort level grew enough to know that I wanted to go solo (singing-wise). Knowing that I'm good enough to have a solo career, (and also, knowing that if I didn't shit or get off the pot soon, the point would be moot, age-wise), I started writing my own stuff in earnest. 

I recorded a tune with my friend Bill ____. THEN I RETREATED. Have you ever heard of such a screw up in all your life????? 

God, Art, if you've gotten this far in this "novelette" I've written, you deserve a medal. I don't know if you think I'm too far gone to help, but let me assure you that I'm over the bulk of my anxiety and am now just working to get rid of the final, nagging, niggly bits. Testimony to this is the fact that I am even contacting you at all. I would not have been ready to tackle this final step before the stage even a year ago. 

Thank you very much for reading this, Art 

God love ya. 

Most Sincerely, 

Rachel