The road of being a performer is a strange one. It’s a journey unique to its line. I mean, really, there might just be something wrong with a person who wants to be at the center of attention in a room full of strangers, and to get what they are thinking to thousands of people. It’s a little egocentric.

But for all of us who have heard a song by a musician or a band that expresses how we feel - when we couldn’t express it ourselves - we appreciate that drive, even if they are weird or egocentric.

Like many musicians, I was born into music. My first influence in music is my father, David. He, like myself, was born into music. He has been singing since he was a child. I think many of us are born into music. However, I don’t believe any of us are born into being a performer. That is something that takes time, experiences good and bad no matter what God given talent a person might possess.

Performing for me started in church, more specifically, I started singing with my father. When I was 17, I bought my first guitar to be a worship leader in the youth group of the Full Gospel church I went to in Pampa. That, I guess, was my first gig in a way.

My first experience with the real power of a song was when my father and I were asked to sing at the funeral of a good friend and neighbor Doug Winkleblack. It was also one of the largest groups of people I have sang in front of to date. Nearly a thousand people were there to say goodbye. Those are the moments when you sing for a reason - a time that matters. In some way, we tried to help, console and comfort the people we sang for.

In that moment, my father and I sang for a reason. We sang for his family and friends, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

I am a coffee shop guy since I first stepped into The Coffee Shop in Pampa – yes, it’s actually called the Coffee Shop. It was a place where I hung out with my friends and also started some of my musical friendships that continue still today. One Friday night, Mike Fuller – an Amarillo solo artist - came from Amarillo to play our coffee shop. He didn’t know it at that time, nor did I, but that night changed my life.

Surrounded by my friends, we listened to his songs. As he played there barefoot, I silently said to myself, “That’s what I want to do.” So that’s what I did, I bought an acoustic amp, microphone, mic stand and some candles. I put together my first sets, finding songs I love to play.

I played for coffee and tips. Sometimes my friends would play with me - most times I’d play on my own. There is that moment when you close your eyes and play a song you love - that is the most perfect escape.

That’s what hooked me: the feeling that you can express yourself and people will listen, and maybe they will get something out of it too.

I moved to Amarillo when I was 19 years old. The first thing on my to-do list was to find a coffee shop to play at. I found Dante’s. It was a coffee shop in an old Taco Villa on south Bell Street. The first night I went there, I heard a group of musicians who played until 2 a.m. Later on, many of them would become my good friends. I saw a guy playing two guitars, which freaked me out a bit - but it was great! Rodney Branigan and I have also become friends now.

Playing in the bar
Many musicians get their real start in bar. Playing in bars is where you can cut your teeth, especially in Amarillo.

These can be some of the best gigs. They can also be the most frustrating, especially when you try to get the crowd into the performance. My first time to play in a bar was a drunken one on my 21st birthday. Some friends of mine took me out to a bar, fed me drink after drink and asked the guy playing, Nathan Taylor, if I could play a song even though I really didn’t want to. That song, “Black” by Pearl Jam, was my first bar gig.

Even though it sometimes is hard to play a song that means a great deal to you in a bar, the moment when a noisy bar crowd becomes silent to listen to your song is an incredible moment for a performer.

I have found music and performing to be one of my only ways to express myself, which can be a blessing and a curse. Because this seems to be the only way I can express myself sometimes. I guess it’s a good thing, but sometimes I wish I could just say how I feel.

Good music or bad music? Like anything that can be felt, many people feel differently about things from the same source. What to one person may be the best music ever played, to another may be trite or of absolutely no significance. In this monthly column, I’ll write my observations and opinions. They are all I can convey. I tend to call it like I see it. If I think a performer or a band is great, I will say so. If a person needs work, I’ll say it. If they really aren’t worth coming to see I’ll say that, too. But of course, this is all just one man’s opinion. and we all have our own, ya know.

From a show at the Civic Center, or Globe News Center for the Performing Arts, or hearing a solo musician playing a happy hour downtown covering James Taylor, the Amarillo music scene has a great deal of variety to it. There’s more out there than a lot of people think there is. I encourage you to go out look, listen and find an artist or band you like. Find something different!

I have had the opportunity to play with some great musicians here in Amarillo. There are too many to name, but here are a few: Jerry Thompson, Moses Morin, Matt Martindale, Rodney Branigan, Jason Boland, Susan Gibson, Steve Simpson. I have been very fortunate to share a stage with all of them. They’ve helped me define my musical voice, and I have learned to hone my craft from all of them.

I continue to play here in Amarillo, as well as bars and clubs in other cities in other states. And every once in while, I’ll play a coffee shop just to remember why I play.