While no job is perfect, and most occupations have their fair share of frustrations, I'm struck nearly every day by the nature of the obstacles confronting a typical working musician. Joseph Heller coined the phrase and titled his first novel Catch-22, a mythical bit of military fine-print that, with Kafka-esque logic, causes the solutions to problems to be paradoxically self-negating. For example, Heller's protagonist Yossarian is scared to death of flying any more bombing missions over WWII Italy, but knows his only hope of avoiding further missions (short of getting killed) is to be relieved of his bomber duties by reason of insanity. His superiors reason that there is obviously nothing wrong with his sanity if he fears for his life on bomber missions. Meanwhile, if he claims to want to fly more missions, feigning insanity – he would simply be seen as a willing participant and his missions would continue. This is just one example of dozens of “catch-22” scenarios in the book – and there are more than a few in the music business as well...
By the way – while this probably isn't the sunniest blog I've written, it's not due to a turn of mood or recent revelation. It's just the nature of the business, and it may be illuminating to non-musicians out there. My next blog will deal with the other side of the coin – eureka moments that inspire. I like to balance my mopes with hopes whenever possible...
Good sidemen/women=busy sidemen/women
I've been a gigging musician for decades now, and I've had the opportunity to play with some highly-skilled and talented people. Naturally, those who are most skilled, professional and easy to get along with are in greatest demand whenever a gig comes up that requires someone who plays their particular instrument, and few in-demand musicians are in a position to turn down well-paid work. The result: yes, I've got an amazing band with devastating technical and artistic prowess. No, we're not available for a goodly chunk of the summer as my guys are gigging in other outfits in order to make ends meet. I certainly don't begrudge them in the slightest – everybody has to eat, an originals act simply can't fully support a working musician, and even a weekly local gig would likely risk over-exposure. Solutions? Have a stable of substitute musicians at the ready (problematic and undesirable for such technically-demanding, chemistry-driven music such as mine); Tour, grow enough of a following to support bigger and/or better-paying gigs (like that hasn't already been the point of this for years!), grin and bear it. Guess we'll do the latter until we can do the former.
Good management will find you when you don't need them anymore
Behind every great band from rock's golden age is a great manager. The Beatles had Brian Epstein, the Stones had Andrew Loog Oldham, the Who had Lambert & Stamp, Zeppelin had Peter Grant, Kiss had Bill Aucoin, Floyd had Steve O'Rourke, Rush still has Ray Daniels, the Police had the drummer's big brother Miles Copeland, and the list goes on. These managers made massive investments of effort and trust (if not personal fortunes) in their artists, betting the farm on the act's eventual success. Rarely is an artist who is worth his/her salt as an artist any good at music management – the skill sets are just too disparate. Still, all of the examples above are exceptions to the rule that management tends to take a far more cold-blooded, mercenary approach to its artists, and will generally not touch an act unless the act has proven it is highly-professional, already in huge demand and easy to manage. In short – managers seek acts that have already proven they can handily manage themselves, or who have at least crossed the biggest, hardest hurdles already. Finding an Aucoin or an Epstein, who backed unproven acts mostly on a hunch about their band's potential, is probably less likely than becoming a lottery millionaire. Solution: keep building what following and management skills you have, and invite potential management to your gigs regularly. Just be sure the management can do more for you than you're already doing for yourself.
You must build a following of drinkers, but not record for them
Most musicians are, for better or worse, in the entertainment industry – not the 'Arts Industry'. The public associates what you do with having a good time, even if you sing death metal ditties about the oncoming environmental holocaust. As with most forms of public entertainment, alcohol accompanies. Entry-level gigs and beyond usually take place in bars and clubs, and the chief source of revenue in such places is liquor sales. Therefore, if you're an artist that brings the drinkers out to your shows in good number, you'll likely be hired back by the establishment often. You could be the next Beatles, but if you're not bringing drinkers to the club, you'll have a hard time getting hired back. Some bands simply become great crafters of drinking-music. Arguably, ZZ Top, AC/DC and Great Big Sea did just that. Some bands lead double lives, playing very simple, tuneful songs live, but developing original music for recording that might not grab the average drunk. Some bands just do their thing and hope/suspect the drinkers will eventually get it, or that they'll soon be an opening act on some major act's tour. By that point, the artist might not have to worry about playing for drinkers...they'll most likely be drinkers themselves.
Music that lasts usually isn't music that initially pleases
I find pop music is like food: junk music, like junk food, is designed to be immediately (if superficially) tasty. There's not enough nutritional value to sustain you, and consuming large quantities of it is hugely unhealthy, but it answers (if not satisfies) a craving...and those conditioned to consuming it often have a much higher tolerance for it than those who avoid it. Unfortunately, the music industry has moved toward a quick-gratification-or-die model for reasons stated in a few of my earlier blogs. The days when a band like Pink Floyd, Supertramp, Cheap Trick or Yes could put out two or three poorly-selling initial albums before hitting the mother lode, are long gone. To put it succinctly, this really sucks. Few bands ever reach the point of being seasoned writing and recording collaborators, and fewer still have the opportunity to have a label work tenaciously at turning the public onto their sound. Solution: Indie doesn't have the resources of major labels, but at least the labels can now be more easily sidestepped by the public and artists. It's hardly a solution equal to the problem, but it's all there is presently.
Nothing Succeeds Like Success
Almost any musical artist or band you can think of had a rough start to their career. Celebrities who transfix the world with every little utterance now once suffered days when no one showed up to their gigs, no one returned their calls, and anyone who had heard them could think of a thousand reasons why the act wouldn't succeed. Sting and Supertramp both claim they had about three people show up to their first gig, and have since had hundreds of people who claim to have attended those very shows. They may have been performing material that was every bit as good and catchy as the stuff that made them a household word, but people are more likely to go see an act on the basis of how many other people are going to see the act – not the actual quality of the act. Nothing succeeds like success – and therefore nothing prevents success quite so effectively as a perceived lack of success. The first major rock concert I ever attended was Kiss in Vancouver, 1979. The opener was a badly chosen band of nobodies named...Loverboy. They had yet to release their first album, and they were roundly despised by the crowd. I couldn't count the number of cups, cans and toilet paper rolls that hit Loverboy that night. Months later, their “Turn Me Loose” single was trouncing the charts, and soon Vancouver's mayor was declaring a Loverboy Day (which I guess did not become an annual event...). I personally know a few Kiss fans who bought the Loverboy album and loved it. A hit single getting airtime all over the US and Canada does wonders for credibility...
You can gig for little/no money and help drive down the standard wage; or not gig.
Some companies require an initial start-up cost. If you've invented, say, self-cleaning clothes, you've still got to come with a whole whack of cash to build the factory that will produce this brilliant creation. A musician's investment is perhaps on a smaller financial scale: you invest a relatively huge amount of time learning your craft, a relatively small or moderate amount of money in instruments (classical players have it the worst in this regard), and then play a lot of gigs for embarrassingly small wages in hopes of gradually building a following. In Vancouver, most venues that offer original live music arrange for the soundman to take home a reasonable wage and the band to split a portion of the proceeds from the door (i.e.: the cover charge patrons pay at the door of the establishment). This is great news if the venue has a core of regular patrons...but few do. Most rely on the followings of the bands to provide band payment and bar revenue. Most musicians find this a frustrating situation, but there are few alternatives. Without a following, one has no bargaining power, and it's quite a challenge to build a following and a good live show if you never gig. If all bands united and held out for a better deal (which is unlikely in the extreme), it's most likely that the venues would just bring in canned music/DJ's (who get paid significantly better than musicians, on average). For a few years, Pay to Play gained prevalence in the LA area, as bands were willing to pay large sums to get up on stage in the hopes of being 'discovered' by industry bigwigs. I'm happy to say that practice never picked up much traction locally, but I'm sure there were a few club owners who salivated at the prospect. Even those who were former musicians themselves...
Did I mention I'm just putting finishing touches on a new song called “Cannibals”?
Cheerier stuff next time, folks – I promise.
By the way – while this probably isn't the sunniest blog I've written, it's not due to a turn of mood or recent revelation. It's just the nature of the business, and it may be illuminating to non-musicians out there. My next blog will deal with the other side of the coin – eureka moments that inspire. I like to balance my mopes with hopes whenever possible...
Good sidemen/women=busy sidemen/women
I've been a gigging musician for decades now, and I've had the opportunity to play with some highly-skilled and talented people. Naturally, those who are most skilled, professional and easy to get along with are in greatest demand whenever a gig comes up that requires someone who plays their particular instrument, and few in-demand musicians are in a position to turn down well-paid work. The result: yes, I've got an amazing band with devastating technical and artistic prowess. No, we're not available for a goodly chunk of the summer as my guys are gigging in other outfits in order to make ends meet. I certainly don't begrudge them in the slightest – everybody has to eat, an originals act simply can't fully support a working musician, and even a weekly local gig would likely risk over-exposure. Solutions? Have a stable of substitute musicians at the ready (problematic and undesirable for such technically-demanding, chemistry-driven music such as mine); Tour, grow enough of a following to support bigger and/or better-paying gigs (like that hasn't already been the point of this for years!), grin and bear it. Guess we'll do the latter until we can do the former.
Good management will find you when you don't need them anymore
Behind every great band from rock's golden age is a great manager. The Beatles had Brian Epstein, the Stones had Andrew Loog Oldham, the Who had Lambert & Stamp, Zeppelin had Peter Grant, Kiss had Bill Aucoin, Floyd had Steve O'Rourke, Rush still has Ray Daniels, the Police had the drummer's big brother Miles Copeland, and the list goes on. These managers made massive investments of effort and trust (if not personal fortunes) in their artists, betting the farm on the act's eventual success. Rarely is an artist who is worth his/her salt as an artist any good at music management – the skill sets are just too disparate. Still, all of the examples above are exceptions to the rule that management tends to take a far more cold-blooded, mercenary approach to its artists, and will generally not touch an act unless the act has proven it is highly-professional, already in huge demand and easy to manage. In short – managers seek acts that have already proven they can handily manage themselves, or who have at least crossed the biggest, hardest hurdles already. Finding an Aucoin or an Epstein, who backed unproven acts mostly on a hunch about their band's potential, is probably less likely than becoming a lottery millionaire. Solution: keep building what following and management skills you have, and invite potential management to your gigs regularly. Just be sure the management can do more for you than you're already doing for yourself.
You must build a following of drinkers, but not record for them
Most musicians are, for better or worse, in the entertainment industry – not the 'Arts Industry'. The public associates what you do with having a good time, even if you sing death metal ditties about the oncoming environmental holocaust. As with most forms of public entertainment, alcohol accompanies. Entry-level gigs and beyond usually take place in bars and clubs, and the chief source of revenue in such places is liquor sales. Therefore, if you're an artist that brings the drinkers out to your shows in good number, you'll likely be hired back by the establishment often. You could be the next Beatles, but if you're not bringing drinkers to the club, you'll have a hard time getting hired back. Some bands simply become great crafters of drinking-music. Arguably, ZZ Top, AC/DC and Great Big Sea did just that. Some bands lead double lives, playing very simple, tuneful songs live, but developing original music for recording that might not grab the average drunk. Some bands just do their thing and hope/suspect the drinkers will eventually get it, or that they'll soon be an opening act on some major act's tour. By that point, the artist might not have to worry about playing for drinkers...they'll most likely be drinkers themselves.
Music that lasts usually isn't music that initially pleases
I find pop music is like food: junk music, like junk food, is designed to be immediately (if superficially) tasty. There's not enough nutritional value to sustain you, and consuming large quantities of it is hugely unhealthy, but it answers (if not satisfies) a craving...and those conditioned to consuming it often have a much higher tolerance for it than those who avoid it. Unfortunately, the music industry has moved toward a quick-gratification-or-die model for reasons stated in a few of my earlier blogs. The days when a band like Pink Floyd, Supertramp, Cheap Trick or Yes could put out two or three poorly-selling initial albums before hitting the mother lode, are long gone. To put it succinctly, this really sucks. Few bands ever reach the point of being seasoned writing and recording collaborators, and fewer still have the opportunity to have a label work tenaciously at turning the public onto their sound. Solution: Indie doesn't have the resources of major labels, but at least the labels can now be more easily sidestepped by the public and artists. It's hardly a solution equal to the problem, but it's all there is presently.
Nothing Succeeds Like Success
Almost any musical artist or band you can think of had a rough start to their career. Celebrities who transfix the world with every little utterance now once suffered days when no one showed up to their gigs, no one returned their calls, and anyone who had heard them could think of a thousand reasons why the act wouldn't succeed. Sting and Supertramp both claim they had about three people show up to their first gig, and have since had hundreds of people who claim to have attended those very shows. They may have been performing material that was every bit as good and catchy as the stuff that made them a household word, but people are more likely to go see an act on the basis of how many other people are going to see the act – not the actual quality of the act. Nothing succeeds like success – and therefore nothing prevents success quite so effectively as a perceived lack of success. The first major rock concert I ever attended was Kiss in Vancouver, 1979. The opener was a badly chosen band of nobodies named...Loverboy. They had yet to release their first album, and they were roundly despised by the crowd. I couldn't count the number of cups, cans and toilet paper rolls that hit Loverboy that night. Months later, their “Turn Me Loose” single was trouncing the charts, and soon Vancouver's mayor was declaring a Loverboy Day (which I guess did not become an annual event...). I personally know a few Kiss fans who bought the Loverboy album and loved it. A hit single getting airtime all over the US and Canada does wonders for credibility...
You can gig for little/no money and help drive down the standard wage; or not gig.
Some companies require an initial start-up cost. If you've invented, say, self-cleaning clothes, you've still got to come with a whole whack of cash to build the factory that will produce this brilliant creation. A musician's investment is perhaps on a smaller financial scale: you invest a relatively huge amount of time learning your craft, a relatively small or moderate amount of money in instruments (classical players have it the worst in this regard), and then play a lot of gigs for embarrassingly small wages in hopes of gradually building a following. In Vancouver, most venues that offer original live music arrange for the soundman to take home a reasonable wage and the band to split a portion of the proceeds from the door (i.e.: the cover charge patrons pay at the door of the establishment). This is great news if the venue has a core of regular patrons...but few do. Most rely on the followings of the bands to provide band payment and bar revenue. Most musicians find this a frustrating situation, but there are few alternatives. Without a following, one has no bargaining power, and it's quite a challenge to build a following and a good live show if you never gig. If all bands united and held out for a better deal (which is unlikely in the extreme), it's most likely that the venues would just bring in canned music/DJ's (who get paid significantly better than musicians, on average). For a few years, Pay to Play gained prevalence in the LA area, as bands were willing to pay large sums to get up on stage in the hopes of being 'discovered' by industry bigwigs. I'm happy to say that practice never picked up much traction locally, but I'm sure there were a few club owners who salivated at the prospect. Even those who were former musicians themselves...
Did I mention I'm just putting finishing touches on a new song called “Cannibals”?
Cheerier stuff next time, folks – I promise.