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 :)
