Kristeen Young – PRESHOW RITUALS

In this Preshow Rituals segment, the rock artist, Kristeen Young, shares what she does before every show. You can check out her rituals, after the break.

What started out as a good idea 2 months ago is now the last thing in the world I want to do today. I wake up. How many hours until this is over? I am compelled to make things. I was born with a voice I’ve felt the need to exercise, publicly, almost all the years of my life. But, at this point…maybe at every point….I don’t know why I do. I am not a social person….maybe even a bit of what used to be called a “recluse”…or even longer ago “artist”. Do they exist anymore? Are they allowed to exist (with all the personality traits that come with that package deal)? I don’t like talking to people. I will be expected to talk. I don’t like having my picture taken. I will be expected to do that or I am a horrid person. I will be expected to chronicle every step on social media or I haven’t been a good promotional soldier. But, I just can’t. I’m private. I have a lot of anxiety about logistics (where will I park? How long will it take to get there? How will I get there?) I also don’t have a lot of help at the “level” I’m at: the small club, outsider, no one knows where you fit even tho you’ve “gotten” amazing things on your own level. So, everything is on me. Will the house sound person (who really doesn’t want to be there because they’d rather be playing with THEIR band) care enough to make sure our instruments are mixed well? If not, there’s really no point in doing any of this. Everyone will say WE suck. Where will I change clothes? I design and make my own stage outfits (again, I’m not sure why….I am just compelled to make things, OKAY?!) and these small clubs never have a dressing room and if they do it is MOST DEFINITELY not private and doubles as the night’s equipment storage area. Ok, so a bathroom stall is the changing area. Fine. Except there is only one bathroom (with one stall) for EVERYONE in the venue. So, time is of the essence when I am occupying that space. And the floor is wet. Gross. The only good thing about the night at this point is it will all be over in 3 hours, right? Isn’t that about right? Now I have to walk back ….somewhere….to hide so I don’t have to talk during loud music and lose my voice right before I go on. I also don’t want “the audience” to see what I’m wearing before our set (cuz this is a SHOW, remember?) …so despite it being 102 degrees in the humid basement club I put on a coat and search for a dark corner. I take a sip of my vodka in a plastic water bottle I’ve smuggled in because I don’t want to stand at the bar….and I don’t want to pay bar prices cuz I’m losing enough money by doing all this anyway. In between sips of vodka I take gulps of water from the water bottle I’ve also smuggled in (because most venues will only serve people water in cups now and that doesn’t work for musicians because cups get knocked over on stage…subsequently spilling onto power strips and frying electrical equipment). Ok. The band playing right before us is almost finished. They’ve gone over their allocated set time and we are last on and there is a curfew right after we play. We’ll have to set up as fast as we can…in the almost dark…..and in those glamorous, performance art, stage clothes….right in front of everyone. So much for mystery. So much for drama. So much for creating any kind of illusion or mood. We’ll also have to cut our set. But which songs? The vodka has deadened the over-stimuli now. I’m starting to not care. It’s starting to feel dreamlike, warm, and good. I might love you. I talk to myself right before we begin, “It’s a lark. All of this means nothing. It’s all just a lark.”

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(Photo credit: Tony Visconti)