TOP 5 Ways to Embarrass Yourself at the Campfire

At that point, a musician takes a deep breath because they feel their moment is coming. It's time to leave an everlasting impression on everyone involved. Or rather not? Let's see what pitfalls await musicians in the friendly circle around the campfire.

1. When your ego takes over

It is a well-known fact that many musicians, especially frontmen, suffer from excessive self-confidence and overdeveloped egos. On stage, this is somehow to be expected, and sometimes it can even serve the cause. However, if such a frontman shows up at the campfire, picks up a guitar and forgets that they are not on stage, it can provoke mixed feelings.

A campfire is a fundamentally different concept than a concert. It is a kind of relic from prehistoric times when the whole tribe gathered every night around the fire. There was a community, a tribal identity, a sense of belonging. While a concert is a linear and dynamic flow of energy back and forth between the band and the audience, around the campfire people form a circle in which everyone – figuratively speaking – has the same place. Music is very important, but it is above all something that brings the circle even closer. We quietly hum "Sweet Home Alabama" and we are together.

So if someone suddenly enters this community with a feeling of "I am here! Are you here too?", the whole tribe might politely applaud after a few first songs and then start to discreetly wander away.

2. It's good... maybe too good

There is another, not so obvious but potentially equally embarrassing moment related to the previous point. You've been practising all year, working on yourself, spending dozens of hours in the rehearsal room to be the best you can be. Maybe you actually are pretty good. Or very good. You pick up a guitar and you confidently play and sing... one, two, five, ten songs. Only then do you notice that those who joined you for the first song are no longer singing. Some of them may be chatting a little further. The guy who brought his guitar has packed it up again. People are slowly disappearing. How is that possible?!

As I have said above, a campfire is not a concert, and unlike on stage, where we have to give our best, here it's about something else. If we as musicians pick up a guitar (or other instrument) by the fire, our goal is to connect with the tribe and be a part of it. To feel and support the atmosphere.

If they all want to have a good roar, we join them. We'll play something quiet to go with the dying embers. When a less experienced guitarist shows up, we bring them in and give them space. If we get it right, it can be as intense a musical experience as, say, a concert, and everyone will thank us for a great night in the end.

3. Hey, play one of yours

If everyone knows that you've got a band and you sit down with a guitar at a campfire in the summer, this is bound to happen sooner or later. "Hey, play one of your songs!", or ideally a direct request for a specific song. You know that you normally only sing this song (or you play violin, drums, keyboard...) and you've never played it on guitar. Or that the whole song is based on the drums. That without the bass line in the verse, it's probably not the same. And that you first need to warm up to sing the high notes in the chorus. But there are ten, twenty pairs of eyes looking at you with this irresistibly curious expression... why don't you give it a go?

Don't do it! I can confirm from my own experience that this is one of the situations when it is good to learn to say a definite NO. Yes, we all know that a good song should work with just a guitar. That Dave Grohl can sing a Foo Fighters song with an acoustic with the same energy as a full band playing at Wembley. That it's good to learn how to perform in front of different audiences. But it's good to be aware of your limits, and if you've never played an acoustic version of the song, then consider your chances of getting it right the first time.

4. Stairway to Heaven

I'm sure you've met them too... musical virtuosos-introverts. They quietly bring a guitar, sit somewhere aside and start playing. The opening bars of "Stairway to Heaven," for example. Or other complicated acoustic pieces or parts of well-known songs. Like a little bit for everybody and a little bit for nobody. It works well as a background, but it unites the group maybe as much as having the radio on.

Of course, it's embarrassing for everyone to interrupt such an iconic and complex song as "Stairway to Heaven" with a somewhat mundane plea for "Kumbaya"... So they wait patiently for Jimmy Page to reach a point of the song that is beyond his or her capabilities and pause, and then ask timidly, "And could you also play 'Take Me Home, Country Roads'?"

5. I'm not playing that!

And then the musical virtuoso replies with unexpected vigour: "I never play 'Take me Home Country Roads'!". Why does "and she's buying a stairway to heaven" pass, while "almost heaven, West Virginia..." doesn't? Once upon a time I also thought that some songs were too corny, too silly, too country, not interesting enough or just plain awful and that I just wouldn't play them on principle. This is something that every musician has the right to do, and if you're really sick of a song, there's no point in trying to play it and sing it.

But now I'm referring to a certain kind of pose of a music expert who refuses to play tunes which are too folky or poppy because it's below their level. Yes, when you're accompanying a group of fairly cheerful adults singing "My bonnie lies over the ocean...", a certain part of your musician soul would also like to lie over the ocean so you don't have to listen to it. Still, unlike point 3, I'm learning not to say no in these situations. Believe me, when you get off the imaginary "stage" and play "Take Me Home, Country Roads" and "The House of the Rising Sun" your friends will sincerely appreciate it.

Summer is a great time that also brings a lot of unexpected challenges. I've always found playing around the campfire to be one of the most difficult musical disciplines, even though it doesn't seem like it. It takes a certain amount of confidence and assertiveness to be able to draw in those on the other side of the fire, but it also takes a great deal of humility to create that deep-seated experience of belonging that keeps us coming back to campfires instead of a "one (wo)man show". So may you succeed this year!