20 Feet from Heartbreak

Hi there,

I know I'm not the only singer who went to see '20 Feet From Stardom' and felt the way I did - I sat in the cinema staring at the final credits rolling by, gulping back tears and trying to recover from the blow to the solar plexus the film served me. 

The lump in my throat was partly for the singer who received no credit for a No.1 hit she recorded that was released under someone else's name. Years after, she happened to hear the song on the radio - she was cleaning someone else's house to make a living at the time. The tears were partly for some of the most devastatingly talented singers I've ever heard and their disillusionment in the industry they loved that at times treated them so roughly. So many home truths, so much heartbreaking reality. 

Of course the tears were also for me. The documentary introduced us to singers who dreamt of being artists in their own right only to find after years of playing the support role for established acts, their dreams had passed them by. I spent years as a backing singer working with well known artists: Wendy Matthews, Richard Clapton, Powderfinger, and many more. Did all that work for others mean I didn't pour my heart fully into my own career? It sure was fun being on the road with some of the names I grew up with, appearing on TV, performing to full theatres and in auditoriums. Surely those experiences helped hone my own artistry too? 

I'll never know what would have happened if I'd taken a different path but I've decided not to dwell on what might have been but to see that glass, ideally with bubbly contents, as being half full. In the words of the diva with one of the most heartbreaking stories of all, je ne regrette rien! 

See you next time,
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

'Take the Money and Run' Gigs

aka The Corrimal Leagues Club Syndrome

One day I got a call from ah...Mr S, offering me a gig at a leagues club down the South Coast of NSW. Mr S's regular singer had a family function on this particular night so he needed a replacement and a friend of a friend had recommended me.  The gig would be a duo gig - I'd be singing along to backing tracks with some guitar strumming courtesy of Mr S, most likely surrounded by poker machines and disinterested punters. I said yes to the gig, even though it was far from the type of work I wanted to do. At this time, I was in the middle of recording my first album and I was doing lots of wonderful band gigs with talented musos in great Sydney venues. But as a freelance singer relying on the ups and downs of work in the music world, I sometimes filled the gaps with what I called 'take the money and run' gigs like this one.

Anyway, a month later - two days before the gig - Mr S calls me to say his regular singer could do the gig after all so I would no longer be needed. Now to describe how I felt at this... I didn't really ever want to do the gig, but I wanted to be the one to say no! I thought I was above the gig - yes arrogant I know - yet I was the one being rejected. Mr S actually said, 'look I'm sorry, but this is not just any gig, it's Corrimal Leagues Club you know. I don't want to lose the gig by using just any singer.'

Now I'm going to name drop here but I need to put this into perspective. At this time, I had just performed with Powderfinger at the ARIA Awards at The Entertainment Centre and was about to go on tour with Wendy Matthews. I was speechless when Mr S made it clear he didn't think I was good enough for his corner-of-the-pokie-room gig. But I did manage to regain my voice in time to spit out the most impressive parts of my musical cv down the phone line. And I do remember finishing with something like: 'so I think I could probably handle Corrimal Leagues Club don't you?'

I didn't handle the situation with much grace, and I know it was my fault I was in the situation at all. Mr S didn't know me from Adam and he was only protecting his turf. He shouldn't have cancelled me last minute but if I thought I was so good, what was I doing accepting a gig that I considered so far beneath me? I would have been better off leaving myself free in case another, 'better' gig came along.

In a similar situation a few months later I took a gig with a Mr H. He didn't cancel me last minute - unfortunately. I did the gig with my eyes on the door the whole time - worried someone I knew might walk in and see me. After the gig, I got in my car to head the hour and a quarter home. Ten minutes into the drive my car broke down. I sat by the side of the road waiting for the NRMA for over an hour. Did I mention the torrential rain? I had to be towed to a mechanic near my home and the towing charge cost me $20 more than my gig earnings that night.

I did eventually learn my lesson and I now call this the Corrimal Leagues Syndrome. And whenever I get asked to do something that doesn't feel right for me, but I'm tempted to do just for the money, I remember Mr S!

Disclaimer: Corrimal is a nice place and I'm sure they've got some great entertainment at their local Leagues Club :)