This weekend, my roommatesand I trucked it to Virginia Beach for a little adventure and much needed sunlight after being back at school for two weeks. (Four months wasn't long enough, honestly). After a day of bumming it on the beach, we took to the streets, walking from shop to shop just browsing and complaining about our sunburns. It was as we were walking out of a store that we heard the song. Someone was singing "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey. Here's the other thing, if it had been any other song it wouldn't have mattered, but as it was, this song in particular held a lot of memories and was, for lack of a better word, ‘our' song.
We drew towards the voice and started singing along with the man performing on guitar. He was actually pretty good, too, and engaging. We were dancing along, probably looking a little bit ridiculous and singing really loudly, but he didn't seem to care. In fact, it looked to me as though we were the first ones to even take interest in his performance. Everyone else just walked by. He finished up the song and we applauded obnoxiously, grinning to ourselves. We figured that was it; he had sung ‘our' song and we would let him continue to sing in peace. It was as we went to turn away that he called out to us, "What else do you guys want me to play?"
Of all the Taylor Swift songs in the world that he could have chosen, he got it into his head to play "Rome and Juliet." Seeing as Michelle was with us and this was her daily alarm, we went pretty wild. He didn't know it, but we were diehard fans by the second song, "Mine." And he didn't stop there: He kept pressing us for requests, admitting to not knowing some and launching right into others without hesitation. It was by his third song that he had attracted quite a crowd. I don't know if it was us, him, or a combination of both, but his easygoing acceptance of our insanity and his willingness to sing Taylor Swift in front of the world got him major points and a crowd. He wasn't playing for himself anymore; he was playing for an audience.
All this got me thinking: Here was this man who was trying to make it in the music industry, and he was singing covers and performing for a group of teenage girls who couldn't give him anything more than their support. But he wasn't stopping, and he wasn't denying us our fun. He gave us a free concert and probably lost some man points for singing Taylor Swift. He slipped us his card after we asked to get a picture with him and said to find him on Facebook. And I plan on following him and supporting his music. It got me asking why more people who want to make it in the industry don't start by hooking the fans. He could have stood up there and just kept playing the set list in his head, could have glared at us for upstaging him with our loud singing, or told us that he didn't know any of the songs we were shouting out at him to play. But he didn't. He looked to us for inspiration, and we were more than willing to play along.
Our world is so driven by individuality and making it on our own, standing with our own two feet, depending on our own two shoulders, but I don't think that always works. Sure, everyone loves a good original beat or person, but people also love to connect and weave webs together that string everyone up in the same pile. People like to feel like they belong in a little niche or share the same interest in music. It's the connections and similarities in life that more often draw us to another person. It was "Don't Stop Believin'" that drew us to him and good old country music that kept us rooted there for an hour. Connections. And now that I've made this connection, I want the individuality and the creative and original beat. This guy's name is Frank Laster, and I think he is going to make it because he knows how to connect with people and an audience. Find him on Facebook at www.facebook.com/franklaster1.
