Indie Folk-Pop Artist

Shows in August!

8/4 Friday at Mix Up Bar Royal Palms

Scottsdale 6-9pm

8/5 Saturday poolside at Omni Resort and Spa

Phoenix 11-1:30pm

8/6 Sunday brunch at The Living Room

Ahwatukee 12-3pm


8/10 Thursday Trio at Kaz

Scottsdale 9-Midnight


8/17 Thursday at Skeptical Chymist

Scottsdale 6:30-9:30

8/18 Friday Duo at The Yard Cigar Bar

Chandler 7-10pm

8/19 Saturday poolside at JW Marriott

Phoenix 5-9pm

8/20 Sunday brunch at Living Room

Ahwatukee 12-3pm


8/21 Monday at Hyatt Gainey Center Stage

Scottsdale 7:30-9:30pm

8/24 Thursday at Casual pint

Chandler 6-9pm

8/26 Saturday poolside at JW Marriott

Phoenix 5-9pm

8/27 Sunday brunch at Rock Lobster

Chandler 12-3pm


8/31 Thursday at Kazimierz

Scottsdale 9-Midnight


Where to find me!

Hello Lovelies! 

I am struggling to figure out how best to communicate with all of you! Until I am long overdue to redesign the website and find a way to utilize this space properly, and for that I apologize. In the meantime I'll try to post my schedule both here on the blog and under the Tour Dates portion of the website. If you're interested in more music or information on whats going on with me personally I highly recommend looking up @KorbeSings on Facebook, instgram, and Youtube, its where I'm most active! 


Shows this week in December

Full schedule for December will be up later today!   This week is wonderful though!   12/8 Thursday trio show at Kazimierz world wine bar 9-Midnight   12/9 Friday solo show at Twisted Lizard Tavern and Grille 8-11pm   12/10 Saturday solo show at 5th and Wine 6:30-9:30pm   12/11 Sunday solo show at Rock Lobster: The Sushi Room Reinvented 12-3pm      See you lovelies there!!

Full schedule for December will be up later today!

This week is wonderful though!

12/8 Thursday trio show at Kazimierz world wine bar 9-Midnight

12/9 Friday solo show at Twisted Lizard Tavern and Grille 8-11pm

12/10 Saturday solo show at 5th and Wine 6:30-9:30pm

12/11 Sunday solo show at Rock Lobster: The Sushi Room Reinvented 12-3pm

See you lovelies there!!

The Art of Asking

There are two books to which I credit a majority of my growth as an artist. One is a book called The Artists way by Julia Cameron, which if you've spoken to me for longer than 10 minutes any time in the last two years I've probably insisted you buy. The second is a TED talk which eventually grew into a full book called The Art of Asking by a woman named Amanda Palmer. I will delve into my rabid enthusiasm for The Artists Way in another blog, but I wanted to take a moment to share this TED talk today because I really needed to listen to it today, and I wanted to bring it to the attention of anyone else that might need to hear it too. 

When I first saw this talk, well before it was a book, I was used to shaking like a leaf on stage at open mic night, living my life for those three songs a week and convinced that I was never going to grow beyond that as a performer. I wasn't good enough, I didn't deserve to make money doing this, there were way too many people that were way better than me so why on earth would I even bother to try. I watched this video, and it triggered something in me. My perspective on my performance shifted from beating myself up about being a bad guitarist to trying to connect with as many people as possible. I started making eye contact while on stage, I tried to not let my social anxiety stop me from talking to other performers and audience members both on stage and off, I started singing more original material even though I was terrified about being that vulnerable in front of a large group of people. 

Now, a few years later, I'm on my own independent tour in the middle of the country, making money and living comfortably thanks to the beautiful people that come to my shows and generously give when I ask them to please donate what they will in exchange for a copy of my CD. I'm couch surfing and being welcomed into the homes of people who are simply interested in doing something kind and connecting with a new human. I'm meeting incredible people and trusting that as long as I continue to do the work and connect that I will have what I need to get to the next place. And I have not been disappointed. 

But sometimes I slip back into those negative thought patterns from yesteryear. Its been a gloriously gloomy day in Fredericksburg, TX. I woke up for the first time since I left home for tour and did not want to leave my bed. My melancholy was quite persuasive. Eyes fixed on the grey skies outside of the window I started to think about how insanely wonderful the tour has been so far. I've found a greater degree of success than I really thought was possible for an artist like me. Then I started to wonder if all of this is fair, if I deserve it, if there aren't more skilled musicians and entertainers than myself who have practiced longer and harder than I have who really truly deserve to be in my shoes. Why do I get to follow my dreams? Why do I deserve all of this support? Why me? Why not someone else? 

I let that thought process play for a little longer than was probably necessary, but then again this was a different kind of spiral than I was used to. The pattern I used to be stuck in was that I wasn't worthy of even trying, it was filled with the belief that even if I did try I would be nothing but a failure. Now I am trying and not only surviving but actually finding success. And oddly enough that is almost scarier than deciding to not try at all, because if I can be successful at this level, whats the next step? I anticipated working a lot harder for a lot longer to get to where I'm at right now, I haven't even thought about what the next step really looks like, I barely feel like I deserve to be where I'm at. 

After I forced myself out of bed in search of some breakfast. I walked a bit. I journaled a bit. I breathed a bit. When I came back to my room I didn't feel quite so downward-spiral-y but I didn't feel up to do much before my show, I wanted to disengage but I didn't want to completely check out, so I compromised with myself and decided to watch some TED talks, they are inspiring and educational and can be watched while swaddled in blankets and pillows. 

Which of course brought me back to this brilliant piece by Amanda Palmer that always reminds me just how important the act of connecting is. I am traveling around the country cultivating the art of connection and vulnerability through music and that is important and of value. It isn't about how well I play guitar, it isn't about what my range is, it isn't about whether or not I can stick to a regular posting schedule on my blog or whether or not people recognize the songs I play or what my hair is looking like or any other insecurity that I use to tear myself down. What matters is that I come from a genuine, authentic place every time I get on stage, that I make eye contact and really see the people there and let them see me and if they want to talk to me that make sure they feel heard. If I can do that and people feel that connection and feel inclined to help financially support me so that I can continue to make that connection for others, that is fair. That is important and of value and worthy of compensation. Can you tell I'm working on some new affirmations? 

When I think of it that way I'm reminded of anecdotes of snowflakes I've heard since I was small. No two snowflakes are exactly alike, no two people are exactly alike, no two pieces of art are exactly alike. I realize that no one can connect exactly the way that I can. My art is going to resonate with different people in different ways than any other artists. Yes, there are many musicians with a greater degree of skill, but that doesn't mean that their degree of connection is going to be greater than mine because connection can't be quantified that way. I may not be the greatest guitarist who ever lived, but if I can sing one song that moves one person to feel something then what I'm doing is important. 

I sometimes need to be reminded of these things, and I wanted to share this video in hopes that it might resonate. I think it will. And if it does I highly recommend you get the book (I have two copies, one of which is signed) or the audiobook which Miss Palmer reads herself (I've listened to it 4 times since it came out). Its a beautiful and inspiring story. 


Tonight I write from the comfort of my bed with a hot cup of tea next to me while swathed in the comfort of my kitschy Kimono style robe that I picked up in Chinatown during my stay in Los Angeles. It is good to have my own space again. Not that I for a second wasn't happy in the homes of my hosts or hostel stays, everyone was so wonderful and made me feel right at home, but its different when its not technically your home. For the first time in a month I don't feel like I'm in the way, I don't have to ask where things are, I know how things work, I don't have to wonder about any house rules or protocol. 

Its nice.
Its familiar.
But boy is it messy. 
Living for a month with nothing but what I had in my car has made me realize just how chaotic my space at home is. There is so. much. stuff.

Before this trip I had never had to be organized before; at least not in a way that really mattered. My room in its current state is a mess of clothing and accessories and musical instruments and memories surrounding an island of a bed in the corner. 
On tour everything had a purpose, a function, and a place. Each part of my life had a bag or pack that it belonged in. If I needed something I went to the appropriate pocket, dug it out, used it, and put it back IMMEDIATELY because if I didn't I would inevitably forget it. I learned that last lesson the hard way, my glasses are still at a friends apartment in Los Angeles. 

Despite the monotony of packing and unpacking and repacking and moving again, I love being on the road. I love who I am on the road. More confident and solid. I found for the first time a sense of comfort in being perpetually outside of my comfort zone. I established a sense of trust with myself that I don't think I've ever felt before.
I think I used to rely on the space around me to bring me comfort, lots of things to make me feel safe, lots of stuff in case I needed it. But I have realized that I don't need it anymore, I can thrive on much, much less. Comfort isn't something that comes from an external source, but an internal state of being. Now that I recognize how much of my space is dominated by excess, I get to purge and create space for more adventure in my life. I get to decide what is important to me and make spaces to honor my music, my art, my health, my work, my style. 
So now its time for me apply some of the lessons from the road to my life at home. 
My wardrobe has already been halved and I plan to go rack up some mad store credit at the local thrift store tomorrow. A real desk and comfortable chair to work at are absolutely in my future. Maybe a filing cabinet, or something home-office-y to organize my papers. Easily accessible homes for my instruments and recording equipment will streamline the writing and recording process.

I'm really excited to see what this mess looks like when I'm done. I've done a lot of growing these past few weeks, and I was a little nervous about coming home and getting stuck in old habits, but I'm definitely less nervous now. I've got too much to do, I've grown too much, its only up from here. 


There are many stories from the road that I will share, but I want to leave you with this one. 
This picture was taken at sunrise from a natural rock formation overlooking the town of Ashland Oregon. 
Shivering in my flowing blue dress and light coat that I'd worn to my show the night before.
A late night jam session which turned into an early morning tour of a city I'd never been to but couldn't shake the feeling that I knew.
A hot cup of coffee in one hand, and my trailing skirt in the other as we forged through the brush, racing the sun as it started to light the sky.
We made it just in time, as the sun broke over the top of the mountain and spilled across the town and the hills that surrounded it. 
Warmth found its way back into my bones as I stood there in awe of life and how incredibly lucky I was to be living it.  

Ashland Sunrise


Song of the moment:

On the Road

I've been trying to put into words how transformative this trip has been for me so far. I have never left home on my own on a trip like this before. Yes, I moved to New York City when I was 18, but it was orchestrated by my family and my school and most of it was entirely out of my hands (which was a good thing, because 18 year old me wasn't equipped to try to make anything on that scale happen). I lived in my Brooklyn apartment and I rarely strayed from my set paths from home to school to work and back. The trains took me from A to B and I walked a predetermined route to my destination and that was that. I knew my favourite Chinese food place, and the bars I could go to that didn't check ID's, and the stores with the cheapest junk food. But outside of that there was very little adventure for me, and I wasn't bold enough to create any adventure of my own. 

This is the first time I've ever gone on a real adventure all by myself. I did the research, saved some money, and jumped in my car. Just went. Granted I've known people in basically every city I've been to thus far, so I've been far from lonely, but those wonderful people have been like safe harbors on my voyage of one. Going from city to city, with hours by myself, all executive decisions falling to me without having to worry about what other people are going to want or think about it. If I make a judgement call, and things don't go my way, I have to fix it myself or suffer the consequences and that is completely on me. But then again, if I make a swift decision to change my route, or make a stop, or decide street perform for awhile randomly, and something amazing happens (which has been so much more the case than the former scenario) I get to own that success as mine, and not the doing of someone else. Its an odd kind of self empowerment, one that I've never experienced before. 

To be self-reliant, to go where the wind takes me, to live with a sense of adventure instead of a sense of fear and anxiety. This is all so incredibly new and freeing. I think its definitely been influencing me as a performer. I've been connecting with myself, with my songs, and with my audiences in a different way than I did back home. Without the confines that I've created for myself in Phoenix I'm getting to rediscover my music with each new city and group of people. 

I can't wait to come home and show everyone what I've learned. 

Love you all!

Copyright Korbe Canida 2015