by Celeste Lindell of Average Jane

The fact that I paraphrased my post title from a Jethro Tull song probably tips you off that I’m past the age of being mistaken for the next teen sensation. Be that as it may, I’ve never given up my passion for music – particularly hard rock. I sing and write lyrics for an original band called Dark Crucible, and I also sing in a cover band called Earthquake Jake.

This is nothing new for me. I’ve been in bands since high school. Back then, my boyfriend and I were the youngest people in the band. He was 16, I was 17, and everyone else was around 27 or 28. We thought they were SO OLD because they were married and starting to have kids.

As the years went on, I graduated from college, went to work, and continued singing in bands (and – I’ll admit it – dating various musicians). I met my husband at another drummer’s house where I’d gone for a jam with my guitarist boyfriend. After I’d extricated myself from the guitarist, my future husband saw an ad I’d put on a music store bulletin board looking for a band. He remembered who I was, called me, and we’ve been together for about 16 years now (married 14 this December). It was about 10 years before we ever actually played in a band together, however. Hmmm…

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve discovered a lot of things about performing that more difficult than they used to be. I have a hell of a time memorizing lyrics now – even ones I wrote. That means I have to depend on printed lyrics on a music stand, but then I have the problem of not being able to read them very well from any kind of distance or in dim light.

Then there’s the equipment: it all seems to have gotten heavier. I recently sold a pair of PA speakers that I’d had for nearly 20 years, partly because it had become a struggle to carry one of the cabinets by myself. Even my monitor is a chore to wrangle into place before practice and it’s only stored about four feet away from where it needs to go.

Things I used to take for granted like running around onstage and jumping from the stage to the dance floor have become potentially bad ideas. I’m pretty sure I never had to soak my feet after a gig when I was in my twenties.

There are advantages to being a more mature performer. I’m much more comfortable with myself and less self-conscious in front of a crowd. I’ve also spent a good deal of time and money on vocal training, which has really paid off. It also comes in handy that I’ve spent years working in online marketing.

I’m fortunate that in this youth-obsessed industry, I’m often mistakenly thought to be considerably younger than I really am. The guitarist in my last band guessed that I was 28. Most people assume I’m in my early to mid-thirties. Perhaps my blue-highlighted hair, Chuck Taylors and Threadless t-shirts have something to do with that.

I used to worry that revealing my real age would cause people to look closer, notice the sparkle of silver roots in my part or the crepe-y skin on the backs of my hands and think, “Well, of course.” However, age has brought me another fantastic gift: no longer caring what other people think.

So sit back and order a beer – I’ve come here to rock this place and you’re coming with me.