My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

I wish I could play dress up more. Its the only reason I joined a band. A lot of guys think the stage is for showcasing musical talent. Its not. You’ll spend your life standing beside a bookshelf in a coffee shop Open Mic nite if you don’t figure that out.

When you get on a stage you’ve entered the realm of fantasy. An elaborate display is expected. Not just of clothes and music either. You’ll need some rock moves, as Pink brought to our attention. An online presence is crucial if you’re gonna tour. There’s a lot of details I could go into. But let’s get back to dress up.

The important thing to remember is, it’s a “show” People are “looking”. That’s what “show” means. Watching someone play music in a club is boring because what’s to see? You’re strumming and picking is not so fascinating it brought these people out to the tune of $8 to $15 bucks each. They came to look at you. “Look”. Not “listen”. At your hair, your face, the hair on your face, your shoes, your shirt, your socks when you lean down to adjust the knobs on your amp. You’re being devoured by the audience, but not with their ears. It’s about eyes. Dress up.

When you’re unloading your gear from the Aerostar onto the sidewalk in front of the venue, people better not drive by and think you are a roadie. They better drive by and think, “that dude’s a musician”. You better have a hat and some scarves around the hat and some leather on somewhere, even if it is your socks, in which case suede is okay.

People become revolutionary for what they wear. That’s amazing to me. Because most of us, by what we wear, put ourselves in a box. We join the machine. We say, “I’m a truck driver” when we wear a plaid shirt and a vest and jeans and trucker hat. We say, “I’m a business man” when we tie our tie in a four in hand and pull out a Blackberry. We join the army of the everyday. That’s the machine.

It’s the person who goes onto the stage and has something on that belongs to no regiment who is the revolutionary. “What outfit is he from,” the captain of the vice squad asks as they roll past the seedy bar with numerous noise complaints against it as you carry your bass drum inside, a devil’s tail sewn into the backside of your Dickens era top coat. When he says outfit, he reveals how the synonymous our clothing becomes with our politics. “He’s a rocker,” the Captain’s partner says dismissively. But no one knows until that rocker goes on stage how powerful he may be. Only those who make it to a stage have the chance to overthrow something. Don’t take it lightly. Dress up.

Over here in my band the Flagpoles, I’m the worst musician of the bunch. So I’m having a hard time having my fashion concerns heard. It is true, we should at least be able to get through the songs without stopping before we have the debate about matching outfits or not. I want loose cuffs because I’m also pushing for synchronized kicks. Maybe we’ll wear dresses. For the revolution.