As I parked my car along the curb, I noticed that the scene was not what I had expected. The place was calm as if deserted. We arrived earlier than the call time, excited maybe but I guess that's how we were trained as courtesy to the organizers. As we were about to check out the place named after the underworld, we saw that the gates were still locked and there was nobody around. All the excitement hyped by the long hours of practice and the feeling of being to perform again suddenly dipped to a low. Where are all the people? Was this just a scam? What the hell are we going to do with all these energy? All these questions raced through my mind. I calmed down when our guitarist said that the organizer texted us that we were just early and we'll just wait for the other performers to arrive. So we decided to linger and wait for the other bands to come.
In a few minutes, people with guitars, equipments and the like, trickled in and where approaching us. A few cars also parked alongside us. And one person asked us if we were there for the gig, as if measuring us when he quipped "tutogtog din kayo?" I admit, we don't carry the persona of "a rock band", our band looked so "ordinary". Anyhow, we just answered the "rocker dude" with a simple nod. A few minutes after, the "possible" owner of the joint below the place told us "parating na yung magbubukas niyan." Suddenly, a long-haired man came opening the "gates of hell". We went up the stairs leading to a room that was screaming with darkness. The walls were painted black, only a few lighted sections illuminated the place. There was this spotlight on the center stage, but the place was really creepy. The loud music coming from the sound system kept the feverish feeling of a natural high in us. The different bands occupied the seats and the then empty room is now filled with smokers making the air damp, stale smelling. Almost all of the people in the place were members of different bands and only handfuls were guests. Fortunately, we had some friends to back us up in case nobody would cheer for us.
At last, the first band where asked to set up. The brave ones usually start up first, and the late ones end up playing last. The first band was good, took a lot of time to sound check though. The next band was different; they look and sound more professional, spiels where automatic. The front man kept on mentioning their facebook page. The next band was even better. Hands down to their guitarist! Soon, we were the next to perform; I snapped out from my spectator mode and prepped for the performance. My day job made me go AWOL from the music scene and it has been quite some time since I held a microphone and sang in front of an unfamiliar crowd. I had butterflies in my stomach, I tried to recall the lyrics of the song and felt it was useless, since I may forget them if I just use my head instead of feeling the music. So I just let these emotions pass and tuned my guitar.
We stepped on the small stage and the spot light kept me safe from the faces of the crowd. I told myself; at least I won't be seeing their reactions. I looked like a newbie, as I fumbled with the cord of my guitar and forgot to attach the cord to the distortion. It took quite some time for us to prep, which is a no-no for any performer. The tension rose and rose, my palms where sweating, and I can't hear myself. I calmed down, took the mic and introduced the band. Then we played! It was not as awesome, but I appreciate how the crowd reacted. Egging us with their applause, as if saying "it's okay, good job!" I felt more relaxed, the crowd was so supportive. I know that it was not our best performance, but they still cheered for us. I suddenly realized, this is the Indie crowd we're talking about. Bands support each other, everybody is given respect. I smiled and realized, the baptism of fire is over. We must rock the house in our next songs, and we did! The hunger to perform and to live the music again is now quenched. But like vampires with the first taste of blood, “we want more!”
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