Life Beside the Stage

"So you're not in the band?"

I hear that same question every time one of my bands plays. The funny thing is, I can also predict how good or bad a venue experience will be by how they treat me after hearing my answer. After explaining that I only manage and placed my band on this bill or put together the entire bill for the booking team or owner, the good venues' door guys normally say something along the lines of, "Right on, bro. Hop in, grab a beer and come back here so I can tell you my band and give you my demo." The bad venues will say, "If you're not playing onstage, either give me $5 or get out of here." The door guys at the truly terrible venues have to ask their bosses.

I really don't mind paying the cover. My bands usually pay me back since I work for free, but there are principles involved. Besides, I do a lot of work on these shows. Free admission to see some of my favorite bands, including my own guys, is my only reward. A good venue knows that a guy like me, who does this strictly as a hobby, forms relationships with a lot of local bands and is good to know when an out-of-towner cancels three hours before a show because the van broke down in Richmond. Good venues also take care of their bands, either by booking them on bills that make sense, giving them a decent sound check, free beer, or even a full meal, not to mention money. I have yet to see a venue pay any of my bands over $200 for a small club show, but that's just how it works at this stage in their careers. The good smaller venues make up for the lack of money with the little things, even when they don't have a built-in crowd. In one extreme case, a bar in Baltimore gave a touring band enough healthy food to fill their van cooler for 3 days since the club couldn't give them much money. The band's drummer almost cried. (Drummer are ALWAYS hungry.)

On the other hand, bad venues treat everybody terribly. The door man's the kind of guy who saw "Road House" too many times. There's excessive "Security." The bartender's too busy flirting with coeds and doesn't fill half the orders he should. The bathrooms haven't been cleaned in two weeks and rats live under the stove. There's absolutely no show promotion from the club, not a even a free ad mentioning the show in the local alternative weekly. While customers are not happy with the bar, it's not like the bar cares because the customers aren't regulars. There are no regulars. On top of this, the sound is horrible, with no PA, no monitors, no sound guy (leaving the band, or even worse, me to do all the mixing), and there's usually either some cheesy light fixture bought in haste at Radioshack or huge, white lights that could fry eggs. Finally, the bad venue pays out only the barest minimum to the band, while refusing to reveal the trigonometric equation used to determine the amount paid. I've seen more than a few bands walk out of a bad venue with a mere $4 for two hours' work.

Different bands handle the low pay in a variety of ways. Lately, there was a famous incident at a local club (one of the good ones actually) where an out-of-town band, disappointed in their low pay, stole almost $1000 worth of mics and other equipment. Not only did the club owner call the next six stops of their tour and have the shows cancelled, but the staff appeared at the band's next appearance in Baltimore, threatening to beat the shit out of the band unless the equipment was returned. The band got so scared that they essentially called the cops on themselves. The next day, the thieving kid returned the equipment to the club, with the news that not only had he been kicked out of his band, but their tour was completely cancelled and they were limping home to Georgia. Instead of choosing this terrible route, bands should realize that the only way to deal with a bad venue is to never play there again. Eventually, the club will dig itself into a hole with the local music scene and either change themes or close down. Bad venues never turn into good venues, unless ownership or management changes hands. While nearly every club is a mix of both good and bad, the key is finding the ones that suit your style of music with the most good qualities.

*Just one caveat here. I personally love the dirty rock club, as my friends can attest. It's in a basement, smells terrible, everybody smokes, people are taking whiskey shots and talking jive or dancing oddly, teenagers are smoking pot in the awful bathrooms, there's something heavy onstage, be it the band or the 10,000 megawatt sound artillery system, and everybody, even the arrogant record store employee, is loving every minute of it.*

Of course, at any show, the best part of the night comes when my band hits the stage. Not only am I watching them, but I'm keeping an eye on the crowd. Which songs make them dance? At what point in the set does everyone herd towards the bathroom or bar? Which songs make people want to smoke? Which songs provoke the DC-patented "I'm not dancing but my knee, neck and shoulders really like this song" response? I only point out these specific things because every set for any musician has a bathroom break song, a "time for a beer" song and finally, a "let's all light a smoke" song. The last one always cracks me up, because the smoke song usually comes after the best song, like the audience has just collectively got done having sex. Don't believe me? Watch for it at your next concert.

However, the most important thing I do is look for the crowd members who seem to be enjoying the show the most. I always talk to those people and their friends after the set and usually introduce them to the bands. This is the best way to build a fanbase. Any time a casual fan can tell someone else that they "know the guys in the band," they'll come to every show and bring their friends, unless they were friends with the band before they started gigging. Those guys will only show up for the first two or three shows and then they're on their own.

Sure, a few things about managing bands sucks. First, you have to deal with a lot of ego. Rock n Roll has fulfilled Lester Bangs' prophesy by becoming an "Industry of Cool." Cool is an almost palpable commodity, and dealing with people who buy into it can be a pain. The only way to beat this is to stay relentlessly natural. Second, I used to get stuck soliciting email addresses for the mailing list. I've cut this out, mainly because if someone wants to sign the list, they'll walk over and do it themselves. Otherwise, most people just look at me like I have a nametag reading "Spammy McGee." Third, and possibly the worst, sometimes I'll get stuck sitting through some Blink 182 rip-off band or an acoustically-armed Jason Mraz wannabe with songs bad enough to make the hair on my arms stick straight up. However, these problems are easily endured with a little patience and some high-decibel count ear plugs. Everyday I get to test my intellect and talent to solve ever-changing problems. Most times, patience and persistance are my best weapons.

The biggest payoff comes when seeing my bands blossom into a great live act. There's nothing better than seeing a room full of people caught up in the moment of one of their songs, eyes closed, dancing, laughing, or sometimes even singing along. At that moment I realize why I do this; I'm helping bring something wonderful out into the open. After really good gigs, I walk up to help the guys offstange and give them the silliest grin that no amount of posturing can hide. I hope they appreciate it when they see it. It's the highest compliment I can give.

Finally, my absolute favorite part of doing this is all of the great people I get to meet. Whether they're other musicians, booking for clubs, making posters, or projecting films onto the sides of skyscrapers from moving vans, these people always have some great piece of advice or some new philosophy to explore, both professional and personally. I want to thank them all as they really make this whole experience worthwhile and hope that even when I stop managing (which will probably be sooner rather than later with grad school application time approaching), we'll continue to forge amazing friendships.