Give Liz Snavely a break. Even "American Idol" contestants have ripped lyrics to shreds. What's worse, they've slipped-up in front of crowds exceeding those at a coffeehouse or bar, where Snavely typically performs.
"I've forgotten words," the musician admits. "It used to really bother me; now I just make a joke about it."
The Grand Rapids-based singer-songwriter can't imagine mustering the guts to perform in front of millions of people. Furthermore, she can't fathom flubbing a performance on the ratings-whore talent show.
She laughs, "In that situation: Naughty! Naughty!"
Snavely is far from naughty. The calorie-counter resists sugar-intense coffee drinks (she doesn't even know what a latte is) and she's tight with the elderly.
After school, Snavely visited a 70-year-old lady. Not only did the woman babysit the budding musician, but also she taught her how to play some melodies and a slew of church hymns on the piano. In fifth grade, Snavely took her music-making tips and electronic organ to a nursing home down the street from her house — where she lived with her mother and two sisters — to play them some Christmas tunes.
It didn't matter if it was December or the middle of summer, the elderly folks dug Snavely's holiday ditties. Some of the arthritic-handed women rekindled their musical talents with Snavely.
"They’d actually sound pretty good; a little gritty, but really good," she recalls in a quasi-Southern drawl. "I think for a moment they were really happy."
Well, most of them.
She couldn't escape the cranky ones. And it's hard to imagine Snavely — a chirpy, simple soul who likes her coffee with just cream — morphing into such a person. Her partner, Christina, is an architect and they live with three cats.
When she hits the road for her most-expansive trek to date, The Out West Tour, she'll miss Luna, Whoopi and Mr. Bojangles. "One of the most difficult things about traveling is being away from my cats, as crazy as that sounds. I don’t have any kids, so it’s the next best thing."
Second to her partner, of course.
"Christina is number one, then the cats," she laughs. "Let's make that clear."
When Snavely began making her rounds on the concert circuit, she'd tense up. She worked out anxiety kinks at open mics and while playing for a church band in Las Vegas. But she hasn't completely shaken her anxious ways. "It's not as bad, but it's kind of like being an athlete before a race: No matter how much you do it, you're always gonna be nervous."
Since the release of "Orange Kiss," Snavely and her LVNMUZIQ (pronounced lovin' music, which is the name of her aggressive folk music duo) partner Greg (G-Tech) Lindauer have been jamming in various pubs, coffeehouses, house concerts, bookstores, at festivals and around bonfires at a friend's house in Lowell, Mich.
"We don't do 'Kumbaya' or anything crazy like that," she laughs.
The Out West Tour will take her through Oregon, California and Washington, much farther than the places she typically plays in Indiana, Michigan and Wisconsin. Not only does the tour's name carry a literal meaning, but also it signifies Snavely's ability to branch out as a musician. She's more comfy with her sound. And more importantly, with the stage.
"I'm kind of coming out of that musical closet," she insists.
Who lured her out of her shell? Her mother.
"She never fully lived her life to her potential," Snavely says. "I just want people to know I didn’t want to continue on the same path that she did."
Liz Snavely
The Out West Tour
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