Performing live is an interesting thing. Some of my favourite moments have been on stage. Some of my most ego-bruising moments, too. I read somewhere that artists swing between the desire to be seen, and the desire to hide. It’s great when the days you are craving the dopamine hit of a performance, and the need for connection through your work, collide with having a concert to do. On the days where you feel quiet and introverted, it can be challenging to show up and put yourself out on a platter for the audience who have bought their tickets, and showed up to support you.
I had a solo concert a few months ago, at a folk club. For those of you outside of Scotland, our folk clubs are a national treasure. They are also nerve-wracking. Often, the audiences are steeped in folk song, and they likely saw my heroes performing at their club in the past: Sheila Stewart, Jim Reid, even Billy Connolly. Often they are run by a group of kind folks who have dedicated their lives to their local folk club. They offer a decent fee, and encouragement, and sometimes a gentle slap on the wrist for a wrongly pronounced Scots word (or two).
When I first started performing, I used to pitch up to a gig with a song I’d written in the car on the way there. I called out Perth and City Council once for their delay in supporting the local food bank, much to the horror of some of the audience, and the delight in others. There was a mixture of opinions about what I had done. It didn’t bother me. That was normal, that was folk music.
Somewhere along the way, I lost my confidence with saying and singing how I really feel about what is going on in the world around me. There is an atmosphere online, that makes it feel as though there is no room for discussion, differing opinions, or opinions that aren’t fully formed yet. But that is the online world. And I’ve been confusing it, for the real one.
A few months ago, I sang a song at a gig that I had written in anger, in the car on the way there. Some of the audience were disapproving of it. Others felt moved by it, and those people sang along with me as soon as they had picked up the tune. It didn’t bother me that it wasn’t to the taste, or political leaning of some in the crowd. That’s normal, that’s folk music.
This experience buoyed me to be a bit more brave, in many areas of my life. Our world is an increasingly strange and at times horrifying place. I feel a need to discuss and analyse the car crash that is 2026. After all, there are many who have no means of expressing the way they feel about the world, through fear and a lack of voice. I am a young woman lucky enough to have been born in a place, at a time, when I have an opportunity to express my worries, anger, my hopes and perspectives.
At the very least, then, I strive to be brave enough to write, and sing, about it all. I’m going to put that song on the new album.
I hope you keep on, wherever you are.
With love in music,
Beth