One of my first memories of performing is proudly belting out the lyrics at the age of three to, “The B-I-B-L-E” for an audience of various family members. The first and most influential musician in my life was my grandpa, Calivin Siegrist. He was a band director for over fifty years, a member of the Green Bay Packer band, and the composer of the Bay Port High School’s song. He taught me how to play trombone and funded majority of my music endeavors. It was no surprise he had all his grand-kids taking piano lessons by the time we hit first grade. I’m having flashbacks now, stuck behind a piano, tears and all because my mom wouldn’t let me get up until I finished practicing. Looking back, I can’t thank her enough because when I decided to pursue music in college, the six years of music theory and piano lessons paid off.
College knocked my ego down a few pegs, but it also brought my technique to a whole new level. Constant constructive criticism and review of my performances put music in a complex light. I would focus on what I was doing wrong, and was no longer able to feel the music. Plus it didn’t help that the music was written hundreds of years ago in several different languages. My technical skills as a musician were undoubtedly improving, but my performances suffered due to terrible anxiety and stage freight.
I began pushing past this right around the age twenty after reading a book by Lynn Eustis, called “The Singer’s Ego.” I highly recommend this book to any musician dealing with stage freight. It put the “feel” back into music again. It couldn’t have come at a better time too because this is around the time I met Chris Campbell and Bryan Louis. Bryan was dating a close friend of mine, who invited me out for an open mic at Mikey’s Pub. After some liquid courage, I went up and performed the Janis Joplin classic, “Me and Bobby McGee” with Chris and Bryan. After that night, every Wednesday all three of us would play music together at Pepperoni’s on Holmgren Way. We did this up until it burned down a couple years later (we were actually there the night it did). Soon after, we found a drummer and a bassist and formed a band called, Identity Blues. You would have most likely seen us perform at The Bar East.
I was only eleven credits shy of receiving my Bachelor’s degree from UWGB in music when I had the opportunity to move to Los Angeles. I knew I would regret my decision forever if I didn’t go, so off I went. California was brutal, both socially and musically. It was really difficult for me to make friends. Instead of getting paid to play music, I had to pay venues over $300 to play. I found myself with a lot of time on my hands between school and waitressing. I didn’t have many people to talk to, so I poured myself into writing. I have close to 60 notebooks filled page to page with lyrics and songs that helped me cope with the loneliness. I rarely performed live, when I did it was at open mics. My shining moment was when I was fortunate enough to play at The House of Blues on the Sunset strip in Hollywood.
After six years living in California, I had the opportunity to buy my grandparents’ home in good ole’ Green Bay. I went back to college to FINALLY finish my degree. We got the old band together (Identity Blues); and Chris and I have been able to form a subgroup called, The Rusty Tambourine. The Rusty Tambourine has recently gained a ton of support and popularity within the area. You can be sure to catch one of our weekly performances at many establishments in and around the Green Bay area. There is no place in the world like Green Bay, I feel so incredibly happy and fortunate to be back here in my hometown doing what I love most in life…music!