New song. It’s a love song about vegetables—and garden pests—tentatively hight “Earwigs in the Eggplant” (after the most-repeated line). Essayed it at the Lotus in Nehalem, and even though rough, folks appeared to like it. I still have the music to finalize.

It was the result of a suggestion: since The Impromptus are doing a gig at the Farmer’s Market, shouldn’t we do a song about vegetables? And rather than search for songs about vegetables, I decided I’d rather write one. I did discover that there was a vegetable, fruit or flower for every letter of the alphabet (except U)—and almost as many different garden pests. The question was whether one could assemble an alphabetical list of plants, couple it with garden pests, and make it come out making sense. The answer is yes. It’s a love song because it had to be about something—a “garden-variety” love song, I guess. And I had time to think about it, because there’s a lot of dead time in the play—my bit part isn’t until the very end, but I’m on hand for the whole performance.

The song came out very Irish—I’ve been hearing a lot of Celtic fiddle music (courtesy of our fiddle player, who knows a lot of it), and I really needed to get the stuff out of my head. I had wanted to write in new genres, anyway—and this is one genre I hadn’t tried. I don’t know whether it’s a reel or a hornpipe (I know it’s not a jig, because those are 6/8 time—I checked—and “Earwigs” is 2/4). It should make a decent addition to The Impromptus’ setlist.

I was asked to help another musician with her setlist (I probably need to help organize The Impromptus’ setlist, too). I think there are a few simple rules:

Start with something that’s both comfortable to play and attention-getting. Comfortable because it’ll set the tone for the whole show, and you-the-artist (or band) need to feel confident about what you’re doing. Attention-getting is the old Pete Seeger mantra; if you can get their attention with the first song, and hold it through the second, you’ve got ‘em, and you can do what you want.

Finish with a crescendo—something that will leave the audience wishing there was more, even if they’ve been there for hours.

In between, mix it up—follow fast songs with slow ones, change keys, change styles, &c. No two songs next to each other should sound alike. If you can tie everything into a theme, great (sometimes that’s not possible, especially if it’s a long show).

I’m fond of Raps between songs, myself: short, pithy, often humorous, and always related to the song that’s about to be played. The Rap prevents dead space—one should never give the audience a chance to become bored by silence. It’s an opportunity to work in unobtrusive pitches for the mailing list, the CD, the next concert, and so on. I script out and rehearse the Raps as carefully as I do the songs—never leaving anything to chance. And people expect it from me now—it’s become sort of traditional. (And I even have some imitators.)

Tailor the set to the audience. I always want to find out what the venue’s like, and what kind of crowd goes there; if there are a lot of families, for instance, or religious folks, I’ll be playing different material than I would in (say) a gay bar. And I want to know way before I get there—I want to make sure I’m giving the audience songs they’re going to like.

Show off available talent, too (if applicable). With The Impromptus, this could be fun—we’ve got individuals who are from completely different backgrounds who are quite good at what they do (and what they do is all different). That’s a tremendous mix-it-up opportunity. The “Earwigs” song is a case in point: I’ll sing it (I wrote it), but it’s an Irish-style tune that’s ideal for the fiddler.

Joe