The complete idiots guide to approaching me after a show.
Here’s the situation. You’ve just seen me perform my now legendary laptop set. What you’ve witnessed has shaken you to your very foundations, what you once thought of as ‘music’ is now redundant, and you realise that the first 22 years of your life have been meaningless. And now you see me sitting alone at the bar, sipping on a cosmo, looking like James Bond or some shit. Naturally your first instinct is to approach me. But wait! This is precisely the moment in which you need to stop and think. Do you really want to be another face in crowd, desperately trying to verbalise what my soundcard has just done to your brain (which is beyond words!) and mumbling about how much you want to hang out with me and play Canasta and whatnot? Of course you don’t. Just because I am mingling with the general public at the bar instead of snorting miaow miaow backstage with Rusko, does NOT mean that I am willing to have some student nervously spit in my face for 3 minutes.
Let me offer some simple advice, then, on how best to approach me after a show.
Firstly, come in with a strong greeting, delivered with confidence. “Hi, i’m Pierre!” I won’t remember your name, but that’s beside the point. You have set the tone for the rest of the conversation, and put me a little at ease. It might be a good idea to have both of your hands in full view, so that I can be sure you are not armed. This, however, does NOT mean that you should shake my hand - you will be sweating from the momentous nature of the occasion, and there is nothing more awkward than a damp handshake. If you absolutely have to touch me, how about a playful punch on the shoulder, or a gentle rub of the thigh? Use your imagination. Remember, this should be fun for you too.
Now that you have greeted me, and perhaps touched me in some way, we can proceed to the crux of the meeting. This is your chance to tell me what’s on your mind, and it will almost definitely be the only chance you ever get, so make it count. My only advice would be to keep it snappy and succinct. Imagine that you are writing for popular HBO drama ‘The West Wing’, and you are penning dialogue for some important American politics guy. Keep it concise. Maybe you want to ask if you can write your thesis on me? or perhaps offer to buy me a Bloody Mary? I don’t know, but be warned that after 40 seconds I will begin playing Angry Birds, whether you have said goodbye or not.
So there we have it, what has been just another day at the office for me has been the greatest night of your life, and thanks to my instructions you have managed to not embarrass yourself in front of your hero. And as you watch my driver whisk me off to some shit-hot party, a warm feeling flows from your heart to your limbs, temporarily taking your mind off the freezing rain seeping through your windbreaker, and the hour-long night-bus journey ahead of you.