Perfect

I am in a musical right now. It's called An Incomplete List of all the Things I'm Going to Miss When the World is No Longer. 

The other day, before the show, I asked the band to listen to my rendition of the old Skyliners song from 1958, Since I Don't Have You. I don't write music and read it in only a rudimentary way (go up, go down, rest, etc.) But I can follow the rhythm.

I played around with the song one slow weekend last fall. I gave it a bluegrass beat. It's a sad song about yearning for love. I thought giving it a peppy vibe would be fun, and it was. I sang it in my apartment for hours, seemingly, that afternoon, drumming my fingers on the kitchen counter to keep the time. Fun.

The inspiration to do it came, at least in part from stumbling on a bluegrass cover version of the old Bryan Adams song, Heaven. It's by Chad Darou. 

You can hear how it does the same thing. It takes an almost weepy love song and gives it a hay ride. There's a whole new access to it. Chad Darou makes it his own, and gives it a new style while honoring the original. I love this way of doing covers.

Back in the theater, before the show, I went over my version of Since I Don't Have You. The band's generosity -- and my nervousness at presenting something that might suck was almost overwhelming. But I drummed it out on part of the set, sang it, then asked, "Is this anything?" They assured me it was. Then we did it again with the drum, keyboards, guitar and bass. Joyful. I created something new.

Afterwards, I laid down on the stage, looked up into the lights like Natalie Portman in Black Swan, and jokingly said, "I was perfect, I was perfect." But it wasn't all a joke because it kind of was perfect.