My Second Week as a Musician in Myrtle Beach

Week two in Myrtle Beach is officially in the books, and if the rest of this journey continues at this pace, I’m in for one of the most exciting chapters of my musical life. When I packed up and moved here, I hoped things would unfold gradually — that I’d meet people slowly, feel out the scene, and find my footing one conversation and one gig at a time. Instead, the opposite happened. The city wasted no time inviting me in, and I’ve been working, playing, practicing, connecting, booking, and learning nonstop. It feels incredible — energizing, validating, joyful, and at times even a little surreal.

I knew I was ready for a change, but I don’t think I realized how ready the change was for me.

The simplest way to describe this week is that momentum arrived early, and it arrived fast.

My first jazz gig in Myrtle Beach

The first major milestone of the week was booking my first official jazz gig here — a private holiday party happening next week. It’s the kind of opportunity every newly arrived musician hopes for, and yet you never assume it will come so soon. What made it even better was being able to hire a bassist and the son of a very well-known saxophonist in town, both of whom are already making names for themselves in the local jazz scene. Getting to collaborate with musicians who are plugged into the pulse of a new city instantly helps you feel less like a visitor and more like a participant.

It was one of those quiet but powerful victories — the kind that says, “Yes, you’re meant to be here. Keep going.”

Saying yes to Rendezvous

Another major highlight was auditioning for a rock band called Rendezvous — and not only auditioning, but being offered the gig on the spot. It was one of those great musical moments where the personalities, the playing, the energy, and the overall vibe fell into place almost immediately. They were gracious, welcoming, and enthusiastic, and I felt the same way.

But because I’m still so new here, I didn’t want to commit blindly and accidentally close myself off from other opportunities, musicians, or directions I haven’t even encountered yet. So after some honest conversation, we all agreed on a three-month trial period where we could get to know one another, test out musical chemistry over time, and see how it evolves. No pressure, no expectations — just music and curiosity.

And before the ink was even dry on that verbal agreement, they booked me for New Year’s Eve and multiple shows between March and May. I’m genuinely excited to see where it leads. It feels like the perfect blend of structure and openness — committed enough to build something, but flexible enough to grow organically.

Sometimes the right opportunities show up before you’ve even figured out how to ask for them.

The Star Tavern connection

One of the most rewarding parts of week two wasn’t a gig itself, but what led to one. I had gone out to play at the Star Tavern, and a drummer who was there reached out afterward wanting to book me for a gig right near my house. Not only that — he sent over a list of 46 tunes they regularly perform. Luckily, I already knew about two-thirds of them, but the remaining dozen-plus songs required some score study, transcription, and chart-making.

And truthfully, I loved it.

There’s something deeply satisfying about preparing for a new situation with intention, care, and musicianship. It’s like building trust before even meeting the rest of the band. You show up ready — not because someone demanded it, but because you respect the music, the people you’re about to play with, and the audience you haven’t even met yet.

The most fun part of that prep was spending several hours working on the George Benson and Al Jarreau arrangement of “Summer Breeze.” It’s one of those deceptively smooth songs — effortless on the surface but dense with detail once you start digging into the harmony, articulation, phrasing, and orchestration. And as usual, online resources were incomplete at best and wrong at worst, so I rolled up my sleeves and transcribed the thing myself, top to bottom. It took time, but it was a blast — a reminder that curiosity is always the best teacher.

I’m especially looking forward to performing this gig because I’ll be handling both melody and harmony behind the singer — no piano this time. That kind of guitar playing is harder, riskier, more exposed, and yet much more rewarding. You have to think orchestrally, rhythmically, and tonally — provide support without crowding, supply harmony without overplaying, fill space without filling all the space. It’s a balancing act, and it’s one of my favorite musical challenges.

Sometimes the gigs that stretch you the most are the ones you haven’t even played yet.

Two jazz jams, dozens of musicians, and a whole new network

This week also included two trips to a local jazz jam — one last Sunday and another yesterday — both run by a fantastic trumpet player with equally great pianist and bassist holding down the house band. The musicians who showed up were warm, talented, curious, and welcoming, and each night turned into its own unique musical hang. I recognized instantly that this jam was more than a chance to play — it was a gathering point for the community.

I approached it with intention — not just playing well, but engaging, listening, showing respect, asking questions, and initiating real conversations. At multiple points, I simply handed musicians my phone and said, “Put your info in.” It may not be glamorous networking, but it’s honest, human, efficient, and effective.

Music builds relationships faster than small talk ever could.

An organ trio takes shape

I also played for the second time this week with an organ trio, and that experience reinforced one of the main reasons I moved here — musical possibility. The chemistry was there, the communication was there, and so was the shared desire to start booking gigs. Nothing is solidified yet, and that’s perfect — it’s at the stage where ideas and potential are still fluid and exciting.

If week two reminded me of anything, it’s that opportunities don’t always come one at a time. Sometimes they arrive in clusters, and your only job is to stay open, prepared, and grateful.

My friend was Right

Before I moved, my friend Cliff from New York told me, “Once you get there, you’re going to be insanely busy — maybe even too busy if you’re not careful.” At the time, it sounded like a friendly prediction.

Two weeks in, it feels like prophecy.

But it’s not overwhelming — at least not yet. It’s the kind of busy that feels purposeful, aligned, affirming. The kind of busy that reminds you that you are doing what you’re supposed to be doing.

If the challenge is learning when to say no, that’s a challenge I welcome.

Building Guitar Lessons Myrtle Beach

Live performance isn’t the only thing ramping up — teaching is too. Several of my longtime students from the town I used to live in have transitioned seamlessly to online lessons under the Guitar Lessons Myrtle Beach umbrella, and I’m deeply grateful for their loyalty, support, encouragement, and trust. They’ve been part of my musical life for years, and continuing with them gives the transition a sense of continuity and grounding.

On top of that, I had multiple free-trial lessons this week with local residents interested in lessons, and a couple have already signed up. The teaching community is beginning to take shape, and watching it grow piece by piece is incredibly rewarding.

Teaching keeps me connected to the joy of learning — and that joy fuels everything else.

Sunlight, ocean air, and gratitude

Beyond music, lessons, gigs, charts, rehearsals, jams, and networking, week two brought something I haven’t experienced in late November in a very long time — sunshine and warmth. Temperatures climbed into the mid-70s and even touched 80 degrees, and at one point I sat outside in short sleeves thinking, “It’s almost Thanksgiving — how is this real?”

It may sound small, but the weather affects your spirit, your energy, your creativity, and your internal rhythm. It feels good to wake up in a place where the air itself feels like possibility.

I’m not just building a musical life here — I’m building a life-life here.

Two-week reflection

It’s only been fourteen days, but so much has happened that it feels like months — in the best possible way. I’ve met incredible musicians, booked gigs, joined a band, prepared charts, attended jams, started new collaborations, expanded my teaching studio, and absorbed the culture of a place that already feels welcoming and musical.

Every day I wake up grateful — for the work, the people, the opportunity, the sunlight, the challenge, the unknown future, and the privilege of being able to build something new at this stage of life.

I moved here because I believed something extraordinary might be waiting. Now, only two weeks in, I can already feel it unfolding.

And I can’t wait to see what week three brings.

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