But isn’t that the underlying goal of having a performance on Saturday? And what’s the point of having them show up at 9pm? If they wanted to hear your songs at 9pm they would open up Spotify.
Your responsibility at 9pm is to move people. If you got up there, played zero songs, but moved the people in the room, no one would complain.
The great artists and performers understand the boldness, confidence, honor and responsibility of believing the first sentence of this post, and insert it into their conscious and subconscious.
I’m going to move you at 9pm on Saturday. Man that sounds arrogant. Waaaaay too over the top. Borderline narcissistic.
Think about your next show. Think about the people coming to the show. All 10 of them or all 10,000 of them. Now deliver the message to them in your mind…(and even more powerfully) say it out loud…
When I got out of college I did a lot of interior painting. I was able to get pretty good in the course of about six months because I knew a guy who owned a big apartment complex, so as people would move out I would go in and repaint the units.
It was cool because, since they were pretty dingy apartments, it didn’t matter if I made mistakes. At first I made lots of mistakes (including spilling 5 gallons of paint on a kitchen floor), then I made less, and by the end of the summer my mistakes were few and far between. And I was fast.
So it was time to venture out of the apartment world and begin bidding and painting jobs on my own.
I painted homes for people in Nashville, Brentwood, Franklin, Belle Meade…anyone who would hire a painter who wore skinny jeans.
I would go in, do a GREAT job painting, but you know what I got the most fanfare for?
When I put the light switch plates and outlet covers back on, I always lined the screws up vertically. Perfectly vertically.
THEY WOULD COMMENT ON THE FREAKING SCREWS!
I just got done doing a magnificent job, a job that took months to learn, painting their walls and trim and doors…and it was the screws.
I was paid to paint, but remembered for the screws.
Paid for 99% of the job, remembered for 1%.
You’ve spent months or years making your great record, you’ve rehearsed a gajillion hours for the tour. There’s your 99%.
What’s your 1%? Cause it’s all great. The whole thing is great, now we just need something to remember it by.
Most of the time sentiments like these are thrown around in the studio to give validation to an individuals desire to change or not-change something.
The desires are completely relevant, the reasons (well, the ones that are usually verbalized) are not. The reasoning falls apart.
Own your desires. Your opinions are valuable in the studio, in and of themselves, because they are YOUR opinions, and you have the magic touch.
Trust your gut. State what you want. Communicate what you hear in your head.
Magic doesn’t need a reason.
Here are some all too common studio sentiments…
1. The kick drum (or insert any other instrument) needs to be turned up for radio.
If you’re in the studio talking about what will or will not work on radio, but you don’t have a radio team, who cares. If you do have a radio team and you ACTUALLY want their input on your track, I’m sure they’ll give it to you.
2. The vocal needs to sit on top for tv/film.
Most of the time the sync company will require an instrumental version of the song and then a separate stem of the vocal so the TV show can mix the vocals as loud or soft as they’d like.
3. We need to get to the chorus faster for the passers-by who happen to click this song.
This is a scary road to go down. Stop worrying about the people who might hear it and consider the people who WILL hear it.
4. We need to add mandolin and a cheap keyboard to attract some of the indie crowd.
Again, this is a scary road to go down. Stop worrying about the people who might hear it and consider the people who WILL hear it.
5. Let’s keep it under 3 minutes for a million reasons.
According to StatCrunch who did a study of the iTunes Top 100 Chart, the current average length of song is 3:43. The last time the average song was actually under three minutes was in the 1950’s and 60’s.
6. If it’s good enough for the Beatles it should be good enough for us.
For every example of something working, there’s an example of it not working. The feedback at the beginning of the Beatles “I Feel Fine” defines the track! But how many thousands and thousands of songs since then have started with feedback (because The Beatles did it!!!!!) and it’s just stupid.
1. Always Hook Up The Trailer. It’s a really good idea to secure the trailer tongue to the ball on the van. In addition, make sure to cross the chains and hook those to the van too.
That way when you don’t secure the tongue to the ball properly and the trailer falls off the van while you’re going 65mph on a four lane highway, the chains will help steady the trailer as it scrapes and sparks along the asphalt and you’re honking and absolutely losing your mind trying to get the now dubbed “death box” to the shoulder.
2. Always Close The Trailer Door. Closing the trailer door once it’s all packed up is super professional. And applying the lock to the door is an even more professional move. Go ahead and do both.
All of this supports the idea that having the trailer door fly open during rush hour traffic in the middle of a big city is neither beneficial nor enjoyable. And not even humorous until many months later.
3. Pack The Trailer Well. This rule really could be dubbed rule 2a, but I didn’t want to mess with sub bullet points. Pack the trailer well, with nothing pressing super hard against the door of the trailer.
That way when the door flies open because the guitar player thought the singer checked it, the singer thought the bass player checked it, the bass player thought the drummer checked it…and the drummer definitely didn’t check it, nor will he ever be the one to check it…less stuff will fly out of the trailer and into traffic.
Food for thought anyway.
4. Always Employ A Shotgun Rider. Have someone sitting shotgun at all times. Also, as a part of signing on to the position, they have to remain awake.
Some might call this rule old-fashioned. I call it shotgun-rider-saves-van-full-of-people-when-he-sees-the-van-driver-is-sleeping-at-wheel-and-wakes-driver-up-before-driver-veers-van/trailer-into-ditch-at-70mph.
5. For goodness sakes, step up and buy a garbage can for the van.
p.s. To answer your question, yes, I have experienced what it looks, feels, smells, sounds and tastes like to break all of these rules. May you learn from my past blood pressure spikes and clenched butt cheeks.
Tonight I hosted an incredible group of people for the first Artist Leaders meeting of the year. The goal was by the end of the night for each of us would work out how to complete the following two statements…
In 2016 I will…
In 2016 I will not…
It wasn’t very easy, and it took a while before each of us landed on something.
To get our brains in the appropriate headspace, we started with a list of questions. Here were some of them…
When you know you have to get something done, what is the first thing you do instead?
What’s the best decision you made last year?
Are you willing to quit something you’re good at in order to pursue greatness in something else you are also good at?
What are you the worst at?
Talking through these questions was eye opening. It was great. Good questions have the power to spur new responses, inspire action, and also to solidify what is already known…but often forgotten.
By the end of the night we all made declarations, finishing those two statements above. And we wrote them down in large handwriting. A giant piece of neon green tag board for the things we will do, and a equal size neon red sheet for the things we won’t do.
You can do this. Neon tag board can help.
p.s. I’m extremely proud of the artists who came out tonight and were willing to share and be a bit vulnerable, and pursue this type of growth, on purpose. These are exceptional people.
If you’re interested in being a part of the Artist Leader meetings, email me: gabethebassplayer@gmail.com
