Nerves Are Not the Problem: What to Do About Stage Fright
By Written by Peter McVeigh
Everyone assumes experienced performers do not get nervous. They do. Here is what stage fright actually is, what helps, and when it is time to ask for proper support.
There is a myth in music that the good ones just walk on stage and feel nothing. Calm, relaxed, born to it.
It is nonsense. Most of the performers you admire have felt their hands shake, their mouth go dry and their mind empty out in the last two minutes before the lights come up. The difference is not that they feel nothing. It is that they have learned what to do with it.
Before we get into this, a quick disclaimer: I am not a doctor and I am not a therapist. If your anxiety is serious, there is a section near the end about where to get proper help, and I would ask you not to skip it. What I can give you is a working musician's view of what stage fright is, and the things that make it more manageable.
Nerves Mean You Care
Stage fright is your body's stress response turning up at the wrong time. Your brain looks at a room full of people watching you and decides it is a threat. So it floods you with adrenaline: heart pounding, breathing fast, hands shaking, mouth dry. Singers feel it in the throat. Guitarists feel it in sweaty fingers.
That is a body getting ready to run, which is not the same as a body ready to play something delicate.
Here is the shift that matters. You are not trying to get rid of the nerves. You are trying to get them down to a level you can work with. A little adrenaline actually makes a performance better. It gives you edge and energy. The problem is only when it takes over.
I know that better than most. And the best way I can show you why is to tell you about the worst gig I have ever played.
The Worst Gig I Ever Played
This was very early in my career. I was an acoustic singer songwriter, and I had been booked to play the Kennedy Centre, which is a shopping mall. Not a venue I would normally play. Not my crowd. But a gig is a gig, and I said yes.
About a week before it, I accidentally shaved my head. The clippers came off the guard halfway through, and I was left with a bald stripe and one option. So I shaved the rest. That was bad enough, but it was only the warm-up.
I was supporting a boy band called My Town, who went on to become The Script. Except they were in a rush to get to another show, so they went on first. The place was rammed. Young women and girls were hanging over the railings on the second floor, screaming. It was loud, it was chaos, and the crowd was exactly what you would hope for if you were in a boy band.
They finished up. I walked on, a newly bald acoustic singer songwriter, with a guitar.
And everyone left.
I played one verse and the start of the chorus. Then the guy organising it came over and said, "Here's your money, fella, you may as well just head on."
That was it. That was my set.
It was one of the most humbling experiences of my career, and I still cringe thinking about it. But here is what it gave me. When I think about the worst thing that can happen on a stage, I do not have to imagine it. It has already happened. I walked out of that mall, nothing had collapsed, and I played again the following week.
That is the real secret of getting past stage fright. Most of the fear is about an imagined disaster. Once you have survived the real thing, the imaginary one loses a lot of its power.
Do: Know Your First Song Better Than Your Own Name
Nerves are at their worst in the first few minutes. That is when your brain is still deciding whether the room is safe.
So make the start of your set the strongest thing you have. Pick a song you could play half asleep. Know the intro, the first count and the first line so well that it runs on its own, because when your head is racing, the only thing you can rely on is what is already in your hands.
Put the songs you are least sure of in the middle, not at the start. And if something keeps going wrong in rehearsal, cut it for now. A smaller set played with confidence beats a bigger set played in fear every time. If you want to try different running orders, the Setlist Creator on this site makes that easy.
Do: Build a Routine
Routine tells your brain that this is familiar, not dangerous.
Same warm-up. Same meal, a few hours before. Same things in your bag. Arrive early, walk the stage, stand where you will stand and do a proper soundcheck. Every unknown is something for your anxiety to feed on, so remove as many as you can.
Look after the boring stuff too. Sleep, water and food all change how your body handles stress. Go easy on the caffeine, which makes shaking worse.
Don't: Fight the Adrenaline. Use It.
You cannot argue yourself out of a racing heart. Telling yourself to calm down almost never works. Start with the body and the mind will follow.
Breathe in through your nose for about four seconds, then breathe out slowly through your mouth for six to eight. It is the long out-breath that settles you. Two minutes of that in the green room does more than any pep talk.
Move. Shake out your hands, roll your shoulders, stretch your neck, warm up your voice or your fingers properly. The adrenaline needs somewhere to go.
And here is a trick that sounds too simple to work: call it excitement. Nerves and excitement feel almost exactly the same in the body. Telling yourself "I am excited" is much easier to believe than "I am calm", and it points all that energy in the right direction.
Do: Make It About Them
Most stage fright is really a fear of being judged. You are standing there thinking: how am I doing? Do they like it? Did I just get that wrong?
Flip the question. Stop asking "how am I doing?" and start asking "what can I give this room?" You are there to give people a good night, not to be marked. The moment your attention moves from yourself to the audience, a lot of the pressure goes with it.
Look at the friendly faces. Smile between songs. Talk to people. A room full of judges turns back into a room full of people, and people are far easier to play for.
Do: Make Mistakes Part of the Show
You are going to get something wrong. Every musician does, at every level.
The audience does not have your scorecard. They do not know which chord you meant to play. If you hit a wrong note, keep going as if it was intended and most people will never notice. What they do notice is when you stop, wince, shake your head or apologise.
So do not announce it. Do not say "sorry, I'm nervous" or "that went wrong". Let the room enjoy the song. If your mind goes completely blank, go back to your hands. Play the next chord, the next note, and the rest usually comes back.
I have also played cover gigs where drunk people started fights in the middle of the set. You do not stop and you do not panic. You keep the song going, keep your face calm and let the bar staff and the door deal with it. It is not pretty, but it is survivable, and it is part of the job.
Don't: Do the Post-Mortem in the Car
Your adrenaline is still high and your judgement is terrible. Everything feels worse than it was.
Wait a day. Then write down three things that went well and one thing to work on. Always include the good ones. If you only ever hunt for the mistakes, your brain learns that gigs are where you get marked down, and the fear gets bigger every time.
Do: Get Gigs Where It Does Not Matter
Confidence on stage is not something you think your way into. You build it by doing it, again and again, in small steps.
Play for one friend, then three, then a small room. Do open mics and short slots where the stakes are low. Record yourself, or film a full run-through. It feels awkward, but it gets you used to being watched.
Take the gigs. I said it in another article and I will say it again: the stage is the best teacher you will ever have. The nerves usually do not disappear, but over time they stop being a wall and start being a tool.
Beta Blockers and a Drink: The Honest Bit
Both come up a lot in music circles, so let us be straight about them.
Beta blockers such as propranolol are sometimes used by performers to take the edge off the physical symptoms, the racing heart and shaky hands. They are prescription medicines and, in the UK, they are not licensed for performance anxiety, so a GP would be prescribing them off-label. They have side effects and they are not suitable for everyone, for example some people with asthma or low blood pressure. They do nothing for the worry in your head. Never take someone else's. If you are thinking about it, talk to your GP.
A drink takes the edge off for about an hour and then works against you. It hits your timing, your memory of the songs and your judgement. And if you reach the point where you cannot get on stage without one, that is not a plan. It is a warning sign, and it is a good reason to ask for help.
When It Is More Than Nerves
Everybody gets nervous. But it is time to talk to someone if:
you are turning down gigs, or avoiding performing, because of the fear you get panic attacks, or feel sick, dizzy or overwhelmed before shows the anxiety is affecting your sleep, your work or your relationships it is getting worse over time instead of easing you are leaning on alcohol or other substances to get through it
None of that is weakness, and it is very treatable. A good first step is your GP. In England you can also refer yourself to NHS Talking Therapies, which includes CBT, a type of talking therapy with a strong record for anxiety. It is worth checking what is available where you live in Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland.
If you work in music in the UK, there is a service built for exactly this:
Music Minds Matter, run by Help Musicians, is a free, confidential helpline for anyone working in music. It is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Call 0808 802 8008, or text MUSIC to 85258. Samaritans are there any time on 116 123, free from anywhere in the UK and Ireland. If you or someone else is in immediate danger, call 999. In Ireland, call 112 or 999.
You do not have to be in a crisis to ring. Wanting to feel better about performing is reason enough.
If you want more support for the mental side of a music career, have a look at the Mental Health & Wellbeing resources in the Apps section of the site.
Finally
You are going to have a bad gig. I have had a few, and one of them involved a shaved head and a shopping centre. You take the bad with the good. And the good, for me, has been about 99 percent of the gigs.
Stage fright does not mean you are not cut out for this. It usually means the opposite.
Know your first song cold. Breathe out slowly. Make it about the room, not about you. Keep going when it goes wrong. Be kind to yourself afterwards. And ask for help if the fear starts running the show.
That is most of it.
Disclaimer
This article is for general information only and is not medical advice. I am not a doctor or a therapist. If anxiety is affecting your life, please speak to your GP or one of the services listed above.