Tag Archives: Booking

Here’s That Link I Promised

Getting re-booked at a venue very much depends on you not being a royal pain.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

That guest post for Schwilly Family Musicians is here. Articles like this can be a little uncomfortable for the reader, but they can also help you to avoid shooting yourself in the foot.


Between The Velvet Lies

The music business has a surprisingly low incidence of people being paid to be musicians. There are a good number of people being paid to “draw,” though.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

The big, red note is what musicians think they’re getting paid for. Actually, most musical acts are paid for their ability to bring out the people in the foreground.

If you were listening to rock radio in the late 80s and early 90s, you almost certainly heard “Holy Diver” by Dio. (I personally prefer “Rainbow In The Dark,” but what can you do?) “Holy Diver” has a line that – probably unintentionally – sums up the music business:

“Between the velvet lies/ There’s a truth as hard as steel”

There are a LOT of “velvet lies” in the industry.

“It’s one huge party, all day and all night!”

Actually, it’s a lot of work and heartache.

“It’s a sea of money!”

Actually, it’s more like a black hole that eats money. And time. Also souls, in some cases. A dark, howling vortex of – yeah, you get the idea.

“Everybody will love you!”

Actually, a lot of people will hate you, talk trash, snipe at every little thing you do and say, and be filled with vicious envy for any success that you have. Also, the hate grows proportionally to your level of success. Don’t forget to smile!

I could go on.

The point is that there’s the popular portrayal, and then there’s the real thing.

The “velvet lies” don’t just apply for the surface elements, though. The deep, critical concepts of music as a career are just as subject to falsehood. In fact, these falsehoods that touch “the innermost workings” are the most entrenched lies and half truths you’ll find in the biz.

You know why they’re so profoundly embedded? It’s because they’re the lies that we, as music industry people, tell ourselves and each other. Over and over. For years.

One of the biggest ones has to do with getting paid – or, more correctly, WHY musicians get paid.

The Velvet Lie: Bands are paid to play music.

The Truth As Hard As Steel: Some bands are paid to play music. Most bands are paid to bring a crowd.

I understand that what I just said is uncomfortable. It may even have made you steaming mad. Before you run off, though, please hear me out. This isn’t a judgmental thing at all. Heck, I’ve believed this lie myself. What I think, though, is that once we’re over the initial sting of the truth, ceasing to lie to ourselves actually makes us a lot happier.

Here’s what I’ve come to believe.

History

Decades ago, music clubs were media outlets. Before the Internet was a household appliance, before there were a million TV channels, and before consumer video playback, high-value entertainment (that wasn’t TV) meant going to a physical place. If you wanted to hear new music, that meant going to a record store or going to a bar/ club/ theater/ whatever. If you just plain wanted to be social, that meant going to a bar or club.

As such, the music venues had something of a captive audience.

Actually, it was only the good venues. I’m convinced that there were a bunch of craptastic music clubs back in the 60s, 70s, and 80s, and they’ve just been forgotten or glossed over.

Anyway.

People went out to the clubs and bars because they wanted to be entertained in a way that they couldn’t be at home. The venue drew the crowd, and then paid bands to play music that entertained that crowd.

Yes – that’s correct. In that situation, the band WAS paid to play music. The bands that kept people happy and dancing, and that helped build the club’s reputation were booked more often and paid more coin. As far as I can tell, this is when the basic bar and club pay scales were formed.

What was also formed was the idea that bands in bars and clubs were paid to play music. At the time, this idea was true – or at least, true more often.

Now, though, fewer bars and clubs have a “capacity” captive audience. Just about every place has some regulars, but the “salad days” of your local venue being a media outlet are over. Still, there are situations where musicians are paid as providers of music. These situations are easy to identify. They occur…

…When Somebody Else Brings The Audience

If you want to boil this down to a universally applicable rule, this is about as close as I think you can get:

Musicians are paid as players of music when an event’s audience will be present for reasons independent of the music.

Okay. What does that mean?

Weddings. Birthday parties. Corporate events. Fashion shows. Festivals and conventions. Fireworks displays.

In all of these cases, the crowd’s primary interest is in something other than the provided music. Sure, the music may be an added sweetener – maybe even a very strong one – but the main purpose is something else. The event planner selects and books acts that they feel the event attendees will enjoy. Indeed, they may even choose an act that they hope will tip a “maybe” attendee towards being a “definite.” Even so, if there were no band there would still be an event. The implication, then, is another rule of thumb:

When the music provided is a secondary part of an event’s “draw,” a musician can rightly consider themselves a contractor who is entitled to guaranteed pay per hour or per appearance.

There are some music venues that CAN operate via this model. However, to the best of my knowledge they are a relative rarity. If you’re a musician who intends to play mostly in bars and clubs, then the assumption you should make is…

…YOU Are Expected To Bring The Audience

In these days of “superabundant” media, bars and clubs just aren’t THE destination anymore. To fight against this, bars and clubs bring in attractions.

The point of an attraction is that it attracts people. (Also, the first rule of Tautology Club is the first rule of Tautology Club.) If an attraction fails to bring patrons to the bar, club, or all-ages room, then it’s not much good as an attraction. That’s pretty obvious.

The thing is, though, that this change in the bar and club entertainment model was never explicitly communicated to the musicians. Heck, it was never explicitly communicated to the venue operators. I’ve been a venue operator, and I’ll tell you that a lot of things I did were essentially instinctual. It wasn’t until after the fact that I stopped to think about why things were the way they were.

So, anyway, the the no-longer-true idea that musicians in bars and clubs are paid to be musicians has hung around, caused misunderstandings, started fights, broken up friendships, and just generally made people unhappy. The “velvet lie” is so uncomfortable because it causes a mismatch between expectation and reality – the musician expects payment commensurate with their work as a musician, and the venue expects to pay in a manner commensurate with the act’s draw.

To avoid expectation mismatch with reality, I would thus propose the following:

When the music provided is the primary factor in an event’s “draw,” a musician can expect their pay to be proportionally scaled to their ability to attract attendees to a particular place.

Okay. Now you’re pissed at me, right?

Let me be clear.

I long for – THIRST for – a world where art has intrinsic value. I’ve made music myself. I make visual art myself. I believe that an artist’s time is valuable. I wish, and wish desperately, that any artistic work could be converted to a predictable amount of currency (or other buying power) at will. I hunger for a reality where the intrinsic value of human life is tangible at all times.

If I could build a venue where anyone could get booked, and everybody who was booked made enough money to live in luxury until they were booked again, I would do so without hesitation.

Unfortunately, all of us are stuck with the reality we have until that reality changes.

So, what can we do?

The main step is to stop cuddling up with velvet lies. For most of us, the hard truth is that the value of a musical act is based upon attractional power. This is a tough pill to swallow for folks in the small-venue world, but once the pill goes down it gets a bit easier to manage.

Another bit of salve for the sting is that, at the highest levels of success and stardom, value based on power as an attraction is still the norm. Huge artists that get paid a flat rate from, say, Live Nation, are paid that guarantee because their proven draw is enormous. The risk to the promoter is relatively small in a situation like that, especially if the promoter has a lot of other big-name acts on the roster. Fundamentally, this is exactly the same at all show scales. This brings me to a closing thought for this article:

When the music is the main attraction, a musician’s pay is based solely upon the tangible value brought to the venue, minus the overall risk that a payout presents to the operator.

That’s the reality of the small-venue world. It isn’t velvet-soft, but it is the truth.


The Post In The Booth

I only speak for myself, and bands should always feel welcome when I’m on duty.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Back in high-school, we had a piece of paper tacked up in the sound and lighting booth. To this day, I still quote it:

“I know you understand what you think I said. What I’m not sure you realize is that what you heard isn’t what I meant.”

Just a few days ago, I posted an article suggesting that bands do a lot of homework while looking for venues to play. As I was writing it, I (of course) knew exactly what I meant. However, it was later pointed out to me that the presentation of what I meant might not be clear to everybody. The issues are:

  1. People might think that I was making an authoritative statement about booking policies and business practices at Fats. (Yikes!)
  2. People might think that bands without a big following aren’t welcome. (Also yikes!)

What people heard isn’t what I meant.

If you read that article, and your feelings were hurt, I apologize – big time.

Also, let me say the following:

  • I’m now including a disclaimer in my articles that states that the opinions on this site are mine alone. I probably should have done that in the first place.
  • I talk about Fats a lot, because that’s the context that I work in. I also talk about Fats because I want to get the word out about live music there. I don’t speak for Fats as an organization, and I don’t represent the ownership or anybody else in any official capacity. Also, I don’t have booking authority, and I don’t have the final call on how shows are put together. Anything you read here is just me “callin’ it as I see it from FOH.”
  • In my opinion (just my opinion, now), there is exactly one way to tell if a band is welcome at a venue: The band is at the venue. Really! In my mind as an audio tech, if you’re booked you have my full support. If you don’t know how a night might go at a venue, but you still want to play there, you should definitely try to get a date. What I’m advocating for is that musicians go into a gig knowing exactly what to expect from the venue, so that surprises and disappointments can be avoided. That’s all there is to it.

So, with that out of the way…on with the show!

Act Like A Rockstar, The Right Way

You should definitely act like an A-list rockstar when it comes to prep, planning, and execution of your shows.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

That picture up there is Jason Giron’s “Extra Extra Large” drumkit. He, along with the rest of The Floyd Show, are a great example of “acting like rockstars the right way.”

We’ve all heard it, right?

“Act like a rockstar before you’re a rockstar.”

In the past, I’ve hated that advice. When people actually take it, it seems to produce musicians who act like they own everything they look at, abuse stages, act as though their every whim is paramount, play way too !@#$ing loud, get annoyed if it takes a tech more than 2.5 milliseconds to interpret an ambiguous request from the stage – well, you get the picture.

The “rockstar attitude,” as we’re used to it in popular culture, is bad at every level. If you actually are an A-lister, it means you’re a jerk. If you’re still playing small venues, it also means you’re a jerk, AND it makes people want to take you down a peg.

Although…I will totally make exceptions in certain cases of “being a rockstar.” There was this one time where a band rolled up to Fats in a van. The space that would normally have been occupied by gear was being filled by attractive women in their early twenties. Seriously, I think two guitars and a combo amp comprised the entirety of the cargo. The drums showed up a couple of minutes later, stuffed into a hatchback. It makes me smile and chuckle just thinking about it. The band was pretty easy to work with, too, so I’m willing to label the whole thing as “Dude, that was pretty rad.”

Where was I?

See, this whole time, we’ve believed a lie. The lie is that, if you project the attitude and the swagger, you ARE the attitude, the swagger, and everything associated with it. (That is, “successful, loved, and able to get a monitor mix that peels paint.”)

That’s a load of crap, of course.

But that’s not the end of the story. See, I think that “act like a rockstar” can be redeemed as an idea.

What Acting Like A Rockstar Actually Means

The thing is, honest-to-goodness rockstars prepare, plan, and execute their shows very seriously. A ton of work goes into absolutely every aspect of the experience. Gear packing is specified down to the mic-clip. The experience that the music is going to bring to the audience is rehearsed for weeks – maybe even months. When hiring in a local audio contractor, the required gear is specified exactly. Venues are carefully researched for suitability – as is the local market for the show. To the appropriate degrees, the crew and band know exactly where everything needs to go, and how it comes together. Gig compensation is hammered out in advance, and is as unambiguous as possible.

That is what acting like a rockstar really means. The show is serious business, and it’s treated that way.

Seriously, do you think U2 and their associated organization remembers that they have a show at Rice-Eccles with, say, two days to go, and then just shows up a day before with a multi-ton set? Of course you don’t think that, but that’s how some bands treat their gigs, proportionally.

There’s good news, though – with just a bit of effort, you can plan and execute like a rockstar. (Well, like a rockstar and their associated organization, to be fair.)

The “Act Like A Rockstar” To-Do List

1) When booking, take the time to actually vet the venue thoroughly.

  • What’s the pay scale?
  • If your band doesn’t have a strong following, what’s the situation with regulars and walk-up traffic?
  • How early can load-in be?
  • Is there a PA?
  • A lighting rig?
  • An onsite tech?
  • What’s the SPL (Sound Pressure Level, i.e. Volume) “speed limit?”
  • How much power is actually available for backline and other carried production?
  • Who do you e-mail with info, questions, and concerns?

2) Take the time to actually tell the venue who you are and what gear you would like to have for the show. This is especially helpful if there is a tech onsite. Even a very basic input and monitor mix list can be a huge help. Seriously, I can’t count how many times I’ve had to Google bands and hope their Reverbnation pages are accurate descriptions of what’s going to show up at the venue.

Yes, techs should do their homework, but we shouldn’t do it alone. We especially shouldn’t do it alone if your online presence states that you’re a guitar, bass, and drumkit trio…but what you’re actually planning on doing is bringing all your friends for a superjam featuring four electric guitars, two acoustic guitars, a banjo, a mandolin, temple bells, five singers, one singing drummer that “only sings on one song,” a bass guitar AND a standup bass (no pickup on the standup bass), a musical llama that sings via severe flatulence, oh, and this one guy who will DJ on breaks – you have RCA to 1/4″ adapters, right?

C’mon, guys. We can totally pull this off, but you have to tell me in advance.

Anyway.

3) If the gig has multiple acts, figure out exactly who is going to play, and in what order. It’s perfectly okay if the order will be dynamic, based on the crowd, but please tell the venue in advance. Also, have a clear start time – it’s also okay if that’s dynamic, but it really helps if the venue knows that’s the plan.

4) Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse. Also, practice what you’ll do in the event that something goes wrong. Have a backup plan. Know your material so well that you can do it in the dark, with no PA. I mean it.

Robert Plant was doing a show a while back where the FOH console committed partial suicide. His incredible preparation, poise, and comfort with the gig meant that he basically shrugged it off and kept the crowd entertained. His crew was also prepared to go into damage-control mode while things got sorted out.

5) Have all your equipment and merch organized so that leaving something behind is virtually impossible. Know your setup and teardown such that you can do it by rote, in a hurry, without thinking. Know exactly what the setup priorities are, and have a good idea of what can be cut if you run out of space or are pressed for time.

6) Be where you said you’ll be, when you said you’ll be there.

7) Remember that real, top-of-the line rockstars are polite, aware of their own mortality, concerned for the people and gear around them, and look out for their fans.

8) Overall, remember that the point of good planning and extensive rehearsal is to remove the emotional component from the business and technical aspects of the show, so that you can pour all of that feeling into actually connecting with your audience. Emotional energy that you’re spending on being flustered by a piece of gear, or a venue problem, is completely wasted.

Act like a rockstar.

Ask Before You Book

If you wait until the night of the show to find out if the venue gets busy, you’ve waited too long.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

I love musicians, so it kills me when people treat them poorly.

It also kills me when they treat themselves poorly, or trip themselves up. Being a musician is incredibly tough (I know – I tried to be one for a while), and the last thing you need is to be putting obstacles in your own way.

A huge obstacle that I see musicians throwing in their own paths is executing their booking and gigging process haphazardly, or lazily.

A major example of this can be found in a question that I’ve fielded all too often at Fats (and other places). It’s almost always posed during load-in, or directly afterwards.

Musician: “So, does this place get really hoppin’ on weekends?”

Me: “Well, it really depends on who’s interested in checking out the band that night.”

Musician: “Oh…”

Immediately, the gig doesn’t feel as good as it did just a few minutes before.

Now, I know bands and solo artists already feel like they’ve got a mountain of work to do. Songs have to be written, instruments have to be practiced, gear has to be carted around…I hear ya. Here’s the thing, though. If you don’t have a manager to wrangle booking for you, you will have a much happier time if you work like a really killer manager as you do your booking. This doesn’t mean just throwing more effort in random directions. It means focused effort in the right places.

If a band needs foot-traffic/ walk-ups/ regulars to have a good night at a venue, then a really killer manager focuses their effort on sussing out that part of the venue’s potential before the gig gets booked. If the venue isn’t what the band needs, then it’s “no deal.”

Sadly, what seems to happen is that bands and artists negotiate only the “first layer” of gigs, and don’t dig down any deeper before committing. Once you’ve figured out if there’s a stage and a PA, and what the basic payment terms are, then you need to give yourself permission to ask for even more info. If your act isn’t built around bringing a following to the room, then it’s critical that you figure out who (if anyone) is likely to stop by the venue on your gig date. If the answer you get isn’t satisfactory, then there’s no need to pursue that booking any farther.

This kind of negotiation and homework is especially critical at venues where pay is tied to door money or liquor sales. If you don’t have a committed crowd that follows your act, then the venue must have a committed crowd that follows them. Otherwise, it just won’t be worth it for you, and you’ll leave the gig having worked for peanuts. Some bands can do very, very well on “percentage” gigs, and for some it’s a horrifically bad deal. Know thyself, and then figure out if the venue is a good fit.

Please – do take the time to ask the tough questions about a gig. The questions that tell you more than just the basics. You might not set up as many shows, but the dates you do put together will be much more fun, and much better for your career.