You're an Artist, not a grey flannel suit!

Hi there,

I see lots of posts on Facebook saying: 'hey come and play at our venue!' 'And please bring the sound system! Oh, and the audience too!' We're not talking only newbie bands here either - there is a certain expectation, particularly in the original music scene, that a venue simply provides a space and everything else is up to you as the performer. 

Somebody I just met, when finding out that I was a singer, asked, 'so what do you during the day?' Working musos are well aware that the time we spend on stage is a fraction of the time we need to put in, in order to get up on that stage. It means ongoing practice and rehearsal, as well as the admin all small businesses deal with. But alongside being experts in our fields, apparently we must create the audience if we actually want to be paid for our expertise. Isn't that tantamount to a chef in a restaurant having to bring their own oven and pots and pans, and the diners as well? A chef is hired for their expertise after years of training and experience.  Just like us. As original artists we have the same workload as the gigging cover muso with the added task of actually creating the material we are performing as well! So all of this and then you can add the hours of promotion it requires to get the bums on seats in order to display the art and that expertise? Isn't this all really unfair? 

Well, yes! It is also a reality of the career we have chosen and I think it's important to understand our responsibilities. We can choose not to work with the venues who give artists absolutely no support or even better, try to work with them to educate them on how we can make it work better together. But even then, we have to think of marketing as a joint responsibility, whether we like it or not. 

I've co-produced and performed in a couple of shows at the Sydney Opera House and their internal marketing is excellent. They do email, online and printed marketing campaigns to an extensive database. They do onsite video, poster and flier promotion - all of which you have access to as long as you are not afraid of being just a little bit pushy. By the way, even though all this is offered, you still have to provide them with the actual promotional materials. But still, surely all that is enough to sell out a show? Unfortunately no. Even a show at the premier cultural venue in the country relies on the show itself to do their own extensive marketing. In most cases there is no budget for a promoter, so this means the artists must do it. 

And of course not every venue is the Opera House. And I'm certainly not saying that artists should put up with shitty deals and work their butts off at venues that don't pull their own weight. We should be choosy and support those who support us! But we also have to educate ourselves in the realities of doing shows. A Facebook post promoting your show here and there helps but that on its own will simply not cut it. Contacting local print, online media and community radio should be the bare minimum. Gig listings and constant and engaging social media work really helps. Phone calls, flyers and old fashioned mail still works. Email is very effective, particularly if it's personalised. There's plenty of marketing advice to be found via Google and personally I'm over that enduring attitude of: 'I'm an artist, I don't do business'. Business and marketing can be very creative. Let's harness those powers to fill up our venues again! Instead of just bitching about the state of the scene, let's get proactive and help it grow!

On that note, a great bunch of artists I know ;) are doing a show at The Basement in Sydney on Friday week, October 20. It will feature a slew of local pop, electronic, soul and swing artists and all to raise money for a great cause: A Billion Beats for the McGrath Foundation.

See you there!
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

Now if I were Mariah Carey...

Hi there and happy new year!

Did you hear about Mariah's NYE show? She is blaming the production team for sabotaging her set in Times Square when her in-ear monitoring failed to work. Whether the lack of foldback was intentional or not, I know for sure that the quality of sound a singer receives on stage is an absolute maker or breaker of a performance. Audiences hear something quite different to our sound so sometimes it is hard to get their sympathy but I really feel for Mariah.  We know that not being able to hear properly can potentially make us sing off key and usher in such insecurity that a great singer becomes a terrible one. But as Mariah said herself in this particular show's aftermath, 'shit happens'. The trick is to pull yourself out of it smelling like roses. While we may not all possess her vocal gymnastic ability or star power, I actually think we gigging singers have one thing over Mariah Carey. One of the benefits of not being a multi million dollar megastar is the multitude of less-than-perfect gig conditions you get to experience! Being thrown into difficult situations over and over again tends to prepare you to jump just about any hurdle and still land on your feet.

I was in a kids show where we three girls performed to an audio visual track that, at one particular venue with an outdated system, started to skip noticeably and eventually froze. So we girls created acapella singalongs and dance competitions on the spot. While it was very obvious to the audience we were suffering fairly major technical issues, we kept them involved and onside and noone complained. If anything, we got extra credit for handling ourselves well under pressure.

I once did a nationally televised Christmas gig that had a huge live audience as well. I was one of two backing singers for a band that was to support some well known Aussie artists and celebrities. About 20 minutes before the show started, we were told we would be leading the live audience in singing Christmas carols during the commercial breaks of the live telecast. We were to follow the autocue. My fellow backing vocalist warned me she was not hugely familiar with carols and we had zero time to prepare. But the idea was we two girls would sing with the band and the crowd would sing along following the booklets of lyrics they had all received. I think someone forget to tell the audience because when the band played the first carol, we were the lone voices. That wouldn't be so bad except the keys of the songs were completely female unfriendly and so, in front of 30,000 people, we were jumping up and down octaves and throwing in harmonies on the spot to make the songs sound decent. We were doing OK with the first couple of well known tunes when the next song showed up: 'Good King Wenceslas'. At its appearance on our autocue, my fellow backing singer gave me a look of panic. Ok, so I was on my own for this one.

Now I love my Christmas songs but I wouldn't put the Good King at the top of my list and was only vaguely aware of its work. But all was going fine until the end of the first verse when the autocue froze completely. So in front of 30,000 people I winged the rest of the song, largely repeating the first verse over and over again! I don't think many people were any the wiser although I'm sure no one would have blamed me for shutting up completely if they had known the situation. But as performers, we are more than just singers, and I think we have a contract with our audience to entertain them the best way we can, in any situation.

I'd love to hear what you would have done in Mariah's position. What I wouldn't have done is walk off stage mid performance, however tempting that might have been. That kind of thing only punishes your audience and hurts your own reputation. I would have let the audience know what was happening, to make them really feel involved. I would have told the production guy - over the mic - to turn off the backing track because my audience and I were going to sing in the new year together. Then I would have led them in an acapella version of the songs. I think it would be pretty cool to say that you rang in 2017 singing along with Mariah Carey, don't you?

I'd love to hear some of your gig horror stories...

All the best,
Amanda

Just wear the Friggin' Hat!

Hi there,

Anybody watched the 'Nashville' TV Series? The portrayal of some of those music industry shenanigans are quite realistic I think. Anyway, I heard a story recently about an Australian Country Music star who was being groomed for US Stardom some time ago, but he was told he would have to wear the old 10 gallon cowboy hat to really make the grade. He refused. Another much lesser known (at the time) country artist stepped up to the plate instead, having no issue with the required head attire and he is currently selling out stadiums on his world tour.

I'm not suggesting it's always that simple but I do believe clothes maketh the man and woman. And is there a career where that applies to more so than the entertainment industry? There are uniforms and sartorial expectations for most jobs, but in a business called 'show' surely it is critical? I think it's about dressing appropriately and extremely. Give me a sparkly gown and a set of false eyelashes and I'm as happy as a clam - and if it made sense to dress up as a clam I probably wouldn't argue about that either. I guess it's all about making an effort and standing out. I mean there's a reason they put you on a stage and shine some lights on you isn't there? Live performance is a visual medium and I think a bit of exhibitionism is part of the job description. 

Of course you have to do what suits you as an artist - if your thing is indie grunge, then neck to knee sequins probably aren't quite right. Looking like you just rolled out of bed and onto the stage could well be - but then you should be wearing the extreme variety of 'just rolled out of bed'. Because if you haven't made an effort as a performer, why should your audience?

Now there's a hat...and the rest!

I was involved in a show recently which involved a band hired to back a group of artists. It was in a prestigious venue and we were going for a look that could be described as 'vintage theatrical'. The band were asked to wear a (pretty cool, appropriate) hat of the era and one member refused - he was just too cool for school. Now you can't have all-but-one member in headwear, it spoils the uniformity - so in this case, in my opinion, we lost something in our visual styling. 

We should want to make live music more than just about the actual music - it should be an experience that people take in with their ears and their eyes...so just wear the friggin' hat!
Till next time,
Amanda

Would you Take a (Music) Stand?

Hi there,

A photo from I gig I did recently was posted on a Facebook page and someone commented snottily underneath (I might have imagined the 'snottily' but I don't think so!). 'Why are there music stands on stage?' I don't like them either - they take up valuable stage real estate and take the performer's gaze away from their audience. But! Sometimes they're necessary.

So you know, Mr Snotty, why there were stands on stage in this instance? Well, we were doing a gig called 'Exile on Main Street' where we played each and every track, in order, from the critically acclaimed Rolling Stones opus of the same name. Even the Stones haven't played most of these songs live. So unless you're a huge Stones fan, you're probably now thinking, 'hmm, which songs were on that album again?”. Well that's just my point. There was one single you might know, but only because Linda Ronstadt covered it (Tumblin' Dice). After all, 'critically acclaimed' really means 'no singles' right? And it's a double album too - 18 songs. I have fallen in love with this album but let's face it, there isn't a huge audience for this gig and we are lucky if we get to perform it once a year. It's a huge amount of work learning 18 unknown and not incredibly accessible songs as it is, for one gig every year or so, let alone doing it without cheat sheets.

Artistic use of music stands - the NSW Police Band

We are professional musicians after all and do sometimes need to actually make money from our art. I worked out my hourly rate for a gig like this once. When you take into consideration all your time to learn the songs, rehearse with the band and then perform the thing, it is often in the region of $1 an hour – now that would make even Nike blush! Not many of us are musicians for the money of course and having to learn songs is far from a hardship, but give us a break Mr Snotty!

I think nowadays with the gadgets we have available, we can be smart about this. Unless it's an all-singing all-dancing cabaret-type show (where I believe music stands are an absolute No No) I think an electronic tablet (I'm allergic to Apples so I'm not going to say 'ipad') has such a small footprint that it is allowable. I think a glance at it every now and again is forgiveable. I don't think that's the same as being lazy if it's used in moderation.

By the way, we got overwhelming praise for our Exile gig and nobody mentioned our use of music stands – and I don't remember seeing you there Mr Snotty?

Till next time...
Amanda

No, I Don't Want To Wing It Anymore

Hi there,

When a punter comes up to say nice things about the band at the end of a set they often ask how long you've been playing together. I used to wear my response like a badge of honour: 'Oh we just met tonight at soundcheck'. 

I spent years making most of my living from freelancing - and that often meant stepping in for other singers at the last minute. No rehearsal, no meeting before the actual gig. Luckily there was a lot of the same repertoire going around and I would pride myself on looking like I belonged with each band, listening out for the changes in arrangement that each band inevitably makes as I busted a disco move to cover up any hesitation.'Winging it' definitely gives you great skills and they have come in handy. But I think I became a bit addicted to the adrenalin of performing on the edge, flying by the seat of my black leatherette pants (freelancer uniform in those days). And I just may have enjoyed a rescuer mentality - my eleventh hour jamming was getting the band out of their jam and they were usually very grateful. 

Every few years I seem to move into a different phase of work and I rarely 'wing it' nowadays. But recently I got a call, a blast from my 'fill-in' past and I wanted to get a fix again. Only I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as I used to. In fact there were times I felt downright uncomfortable. The thrill had gone and I was left hoping that no one I knew walked in and saw me because I simply wasn't at my best. So there it is, I've decided the sensation of a job well done turns me on most of all.

See you next time,
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

But that's MY gig!

Hi there,

I received an email recently asking me to quote on providing some regular entertainment at a local venue. Not long after I did so, I found myself pulled into a conversation thread that included an email from an irate entertainer. The entertainer was the one currently providing the music I was asked to quote on, as it turned out. His email to the booker went along the lines of: 'How f@#$&*$n dare you ask this Amanda Easton to quote on a gig I have been doing for years! This is my gig and you have no right to offer it to anyone else...' etc. I didn't hear from the venue again but I did wonder about the fate of that infuriated incumbent. Do any of us have any right of ownership over 'our' gigs?

I have semi-regular longstanding gigs, that because of overseas trips and the like, I've had to 'dep out' for a night or two. I always recommend the best possible replacement of course, out of respect for my fellows musos. I did this recently and next thing you know I see the advertising for this same show, but a different date (one I would have been available to do) featuring the dep instead of me. Hmm so I guess I lost that gig then.

I must admit there is a bit of 'what about me?' when that happens - reminiscent of that feeling I got when boys on the school bus would overlook me in favour of my prettier friend. But in the creative, transient and esoteric world of showbiz I don't think there is too much that is permanent or predictable and that's precisely what keeps it so enthralling. And, I have been that dep that's ended up becoming part of somebody else's regular show. Instead of thinking any performer is 'better' than another, I really believe 'everybody got their something' and sometimes somebody else's something is more suitable for some shows than others...and anyway, I'll be quite happy waiting for the next musical adventure to come along and sweep me and my something away.

See you next time,
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

When Sound Engineers Suck

Hi there,

Now let me start by saying that I have a lot of admiration for a skillful sound engineer and I count plenty of them as friends.  I make this disclaimer lest last week's rant also featuring a (different) sound guy (For the Love of Mike) paints me with some kind of prejudice! In my mind, the audio engineer is a vital part of the team - and let's face it, they have your sound by the short and curlies, so it pays to be respectful.

However... recently I had the displeasure of working with a very uptight sound guy and I had to do a lot of tongue biting. It all seemed to start when I stepped up to the mike during soundcheck and saw it had a wind sock covering it. Those black foam mike condoms are usually used for outside gigs to limit the interference of wind or other background noise or even reduce breath noise in radio or recording studios. In my experience (I've never counted but I've done an average of 3 live gigs a week for about the last 15 years) a mike with a wind sock is almost never used in a live show that is staged inside a venue. That inch of foam breaks my communion with my beloved mike and I hate it! I had also noticed that only two of the four vocal mikes on stage had wind socks. They had to be there by mistake right? So I took mine off. Well a voice from the control room at the back of the auditorium boomed, 'put that back on!' I did so and was duly put in my place. 

I don't know if that exchange coloured the rest of the events at sound check but it seemed I, along with most of the (very experienced) performers on stage that night, couldn't put a foot right with Mr Persnikety on the faders back there. In this particular show - like many that I do - I perform as backing vocalist throughout the show but leave that side-of-stage position to perform lead at different times throughout the set. So of course it is important I check my sound from my backing vocalist position as well as from other spots across the front of the stage. I'd like to add here that the sound was average to poor through my own foldback wedge and no amount of knob twiddling or suggestions/requests from me (!) improved it. When I dared to move towards the middle of the stage, my foldback ranged from atrocious to non-existent. When I raised the issues (I was trying to be polite, really I was!) he gave me a very condescending explanation of how sound systems work and nothing improved. 

The moral of the story? Well if my blog today is anything more than just a rant, the lesson could be 'the show must go on' or perhaps, 'don't piss off the sound guy'. 

By the way, it doesn't end there. I did a gig in a venue at the end of town weeks later and who should walk backstage? I smiled sweetly at Mr Imperious thinking he wouldn't particularly remember me. I was wrong, ladies and gentlemen, very much mistaken. Stay tuned for our next encounter...

Cheers,
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

For the Love of Mike

Happy New Year,

There is a lot of gear pornography in musical blogs. Guitarists in particular have a world of electronics they love to show off and discuss - guitars, amps, pedals and the rest. We singers have one vital piece of gear that isn't talked about too much - the microphone. 

I have moments when I walk on stage, the audience in darkness, and just one thing greets me in the circle of light. It draws me closer and promises to listen and share every sound I make. 

Of course we all know that the quality of the sound system and the sound engineer have a huge bearing on the audio, but it's that mike sitting atop the stand that is the only tangible thing there for me. 

I love that I can whisper to him and he'll listen to every nuance. We have our own secret communion  - and at the end of our lovely dance I treasure the metallic taste left on my lips as a memento of our moments together.

I personally love a Shure 58 - it's the most common live performance mike around my parts - it's inexpensive, robust and I for one like the sound I get from it. I usually have a Shure 58 in my handbag although I often find, in the venues I play, the sound engineer will have their own mikes tuned to their own system and would prefer to use those. 

However... recently at a gig, this conversation transpired:
Sound Engineer: Do you have your own mike?
Me: I do, but actually didn't bring it this time sorry - last time I played here I was told it wasn't needed.
Sound Engineer: You should own your own mike.
Me: Oh I do, I have 3 of my own mikes and usually bring one. Sorry, but I usually find sound engineers prefer to use their own.
Sound Engineer: You can use my mike but you should go out and buy a Shure 58, they're not expensive.
Me: I actually have three Shure 58s, love them.
Sound Engineer: Think of how much money all these musicians have to spend on their musical gear. The least you can do is go and buy your own mike.
Me:...

My point here? Never undervalue the mike - and beware the deaf sound engineer! 

Cheers,
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

Secret to Success: Turning Up

Hi there,

(Now guitarists, when I say turn up, I don't mean turn up to '11' a la Spinal Tap). 

I'm just going to go ahead and put it in writing - I love Dr Oz.  If he told me to jump I probably would. And he says one of the secrets of life is 'turning up'. He means you've got to participate in life, be part of it. I mean that too but I'm being even more literal. 

I was speaking to a muso friend of mine this morning who did a high profile gig on the weekend. Ten minutes before the band were due to perform for the masses, two of its members decided it was time to get a cup of coffee at the bar nearby. So at the moment the event organiser came by and asked the band to start, the singer was left hanging out to dry with just a drummer and trumpeter. Needless to say, the usually calm, polite chanteuse who had booked the band, let loose on the two strays when they returned, which was well after the preordained starting time. She also turned to my friend and said that next time she would simply book mediocre players who turned up, rather than go through that again. 

Having run a function band for years myself, I feel her pain. I'm still recovering from a moment many years ago when the guitarist that I hired for a wedding band came stumbling down the aisle right after the bride, holding his shoes, trailing his leads and dragging his equipment. The rest of the band had been set up an hour before the first guests had gathered. Great guitarist, lousy organisational skills. The stress is simply not worth it. 

I truly believe that punctuality, preparation, respect and enthusiasm are at least as important as actual music skills in a professional entertainer's arsenal.

Of course if you are a great musician that turns up on time as well, you've got it made!

See you next time,
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

...like a hole in the head!

Hi there,

In the last couple of months I've been lucky enough to fall in love with Finland, be amazed by Estonia, be brought to tears of joy and admiration by Russia and then to reignite my wondrous affairs with Thailand, France and the Channel Islands - in short, had the time of my life with the people I love best. But I missed one thing (apart from you lot of course). I really truly missed singing! I came mighty close to wrestling the microphone from the band singer at a Bangkok riverside restaurant and I more than flirted with the idea of finding the closest karaoke joint in numerous European cities. I decided in the end to delay my gratification since I knew I was going to be greeted by a lovely full gig calendar at home. 

I often wonder what I would do if I didn't sing. Not just for a job, but I find singing to be the most wonderful release. Emotions, stress - the world just feels like a much better place once I've let it all out over the microphone. 

I have a favourite acupuncture point on the top of my head. When that needle goes in, it feels like pressure is released - like letting a trickle of air out of an over-filled balloon. Singing feels a bit like that for me. 

So, I guess you could say, I missed singing...like a hole in the head!

x

Just learn to sing man!

Hi there,

I think I have the best job in the world but the problem with doing something that looks like so much fun (it is) is that people think it's only fun and that it's easy (it really isn't). 'The Voice' judges on TV gabber on a lot about the importance of singers 'telling a story' and 'making a connection'. As important as that stuff is, they don't seem to talk much about technique and the practical side of learning to actually sing properly. I have heard gigging singers say, 'I've never had a singing lesson' - well don't boast about it! Lack of training, at the minimum, usually means a voice that will blow out after only two gigs in a row...let alone lack of breath control and weak projection. 

If you had a natural flair for a volley and a mean backhand and were aiming for the professional circuit, wouldn't you get a tennis coach pronto? There probably exists the rare warbler whose voice is so good that training can't improve it - but I'm yet to hear them. Now you may tell me about a guy called Bob Dylan - never had a singing lesson. I would say, as a singer, Bob makes a mighty fine storyteller. And you may tell a story better than Hans Christian Anderson, but that does not a singer make! 

I can't help but get personally offended when people get up on the professional stage without a lesson behind them (I am a Cancerian so I do take most things personally!) You think so little of this pursuit that you're not willing to put everything into it? It's an art, sure, but it's also a craft - please respect it and get thyself to a singing teacher!
See you next time!

How to get the Clap

Hi there,

'Grease' at Taronga Zoo Twilight Series 2013

I was lucky enough to do a gig recently to an audience of over a thousand enthusiastic people. It was on a huge stage with all the lighting and sound set-up you'd expect from a well-produced live music event and a great time was had by all - both sides of the stage. Throughout the entire event the crowd went wild - applause and cheering could be heard for miles.

I did another gig recently to an audience of about 50 people. There was no stage and no lighting. People had to say 'excuse me' to walk in front of us - to get to the bathrooms. Throughout the entire event the crowd went mild - you could hear tumbleweed rolling down the main street.

So what's happened to clapping peeps? The latter style of gig can be bread and butter to many professional musos and I've noticed more and more recently that clapping is a dying art at such shows. Now you may be thinking, people aren't clapping because they aren't enjoying the music. That's the first conclusion I jump to - and I can tell you it's no good for the fragile artistic ego. But then almost without fail, something strange happens after the final song. People from the audience come up to offer their compliments on the performance and press us for more! Ah, so you loved what we did but remained silent in that traditional space left between songs to show your appreciation? 

My theory is that if the venue doesn't show respect for its performers - by offering a proper performance space - then an audience responds accordingly. An audience seems to need cues to do their job properly - and those cues include lighting and a pedestal on which to view their performers. Ideally far away from the toilet door.

The more venues shove performers in the corner on a piece of carpet, the less impact their performances will have. And the more we'll hear venue managers say that live music just 'doesn't work'. And then we'll all be listening to the sound of one hand clapping. 

See you next time,

Amanda

For Singers: On Being a Bitch

Hi there,

Since it's the season of goodwill, I thought I'd talk about the importance, as a singer, of being nice. Niceness is underrated. People almost have an expectation of diva-ish bitchy behaviour from female singers, especially if there's more than one of them on the same stage. I ran 'PopTarts', a weekly female singer-songwriter night, for almost 10 years - dealing with female artistes en masse - and I completely disagree that un-niceness is the norm. I was always impressed at the warm camaraderie between the singers and not only do I think it's the right way to be, I think it's good for your career.

I do a piano bar-type gig once a week, largely attracting international tourists. It's quite common for visitors to come and get their photo taken with the piano player and I, at the end of the night. Recently, a family came up to the piano and I got my best smile ready. Instead of posing with us, the mother glared at me, snarled 'excuse me' as she pushed us to the side and deposited her 20-something daughter at the piano. Mother instructed daughter to place her hands on the piano as if playing and then directed her (also snarling) son behind his camera phone, in what became a mini photo shoot. 

 Just after they left, my boss approached us laughing. Apparently this family were his guests this particular night. He had invited them because the mother had enquired after the singing gig for her daughter. The venue hires singers every night of the week so he is always interested in new performers. When my boss sat down with them for a while, during my performance, he asked the group what they thought of me. Apparently they stuck the boot in. There were harumphs and comments like 'oh she's very average'. Perhaps this is what they really thought, but is this the way to get yourself a gig?

Well you'll be pleased to know it didn't work. When the mother asked Bossman when her daughter would be able to start, he said something to the effect of, 'you can have the gig when this singer is finished with it and that could be another 20 years, so don't hold your breath.' Didn't she realise she was not only putting me down, but also criticising the judgement of the person that had hired me, ie Bossman himself? The Maitre d' told me the group had been disparaging of me to him as well! So with all the staff talking about it, and laughing at what they considered their transparent efforts to land the gig, they had managed to absolutely guarantee that no kin of theirs would ever work at that venue.

In any industry, people want to work with nice people, right? It makes life run more smoothly. Anyway, everyone knows Santa strikes naughty people off his present list, so here's to nice!

Merry Christmas everyone,

xAmanda

Best Way to get to the Entertainment Centre?

A. Practise! Practise! Practise!

Hi there,

When I released my first single, titled ironically 'Celebrity' I managed to pick myself up a little, ah, stalker. A harmless one of the variety, I believe, but who nevertheless managed to find my phone number and call me quite regularly for chats. He was a teenage boy who wanted to be a pop star and was really looking for advice on how to get there (I guess he couldn't get hold of Kylie's number!). We had a conversation about 'popstar'dom. I encouraged him to take singing lessons, learn a musical instrument or at least find someone who could play one so he could start writing songs etc. He got quite exasperated at this, saying, 'No, no, I just want to be an image-based popstar, not do all that musical stuff!'. So I gave him Kylie's number - just kidding!!

Anyway, my point is that a lot of people want to get somewhere - particularly in music - without putting the work in. I've always felt that I was a hard worker, but what if I practised, say, 20% harder - would I be able to legitimately hand out popstar advice from the lofty heights of my personal experience?

I've just finished reading a book called 'The Brain That Changes Itself' by Norman Doige. Apparently, we can repeat processes - even ones we find virtually impossible - so many times that the brain eventually rewires itself. 'Practice makes perfect', in other words? You think you weren't born with musical talent? Work hard enough and maybe it doesn't matter.

Here is the conclusion I've come to:  Talent + Hard Work = Success; Little Talent + Hard Work = Moderate Success; Talent + No Hard Work = Little Success.
Since the new resolution-forming season is upon us, I've decided I'm going to stop accepting that I'm as good as I'll ever be...and just practise! Practise! Practise!

My latest songwriting practice follows:

Time to Pop the Cherry

Hi there,

I find it pretty intimidating playing brand new songs to someone for the first time. It’s one week until my first original gig of the year – where I’ve committed to perform some brand new songs destined for Album no 3...

It was a bit easier for me in the past when I mostly co-wrote songs. Like a trouble shared is a trouble halved, so the blame for a dodgy verse structure or naff lyric is not entirely your fault when more than one person has authored a song. This time, as part of the whole ‘do something that scares you’ routine, I’ve decide to write the whole bloody album by myself. The audience at Lizotte’s next week won’t hear entirely virginal songs, however – they will have been heard first, of course, by my fabulous accompanist.

I thought I’d try to make his job easier by recording rough demos of the songs I’ve written so far. A bit of midi drums and even a bass line, to give him the vibe man.  After his first listen (while I watched my knuckles turn white in another room), he said he didn’t ‘quite get’ one of the new tunes. But that one is supposed to be my Goldfrapp-esque dancefloor hit! He said it sounded like monkeys had played the drums in the opening. Things took a turn for the even worse when he started talking about my show tune. SHOW TUNE!? Oh you mean the sultry tear-jerking blues number? Oh dear. Things thankfully did improve when the songs were stripped back to the vocals and chords and his arranging skills were added on top.  Percussion-loving simians have now been banished and Minnelli-like melodrama has melted away.

Note to self: do not under any circumstances attempt to be a music producer. Don’t give up your night job!

What Do You Hate Not Doing?

What do you hate not doing?

I love this question. It seems easier to talk about what you love doing, but for me, it's the things in life you can't do without that really matter. I've had a helluva year and while things seem to be on the up now, I've never thought more about the things I would miss if I weren't around anymore! I saw this blog from Derek Sivers (founder of CDBaby and all round smart bloke). I've also just finished reading his fabulous book 'Anything You Want'. 

Things I hate not doing? Definitely in order: 1.Being with my family and friends. 2.Writing music and singing. 3.Eating. I love lots of other stuff but they're the only ones that really matter. Here's Derek's blog, below (from http://sivers.org/blog).

'We've all asked ourselves, “What do I really love?” or “What makes me happy?”

I've wrestled when the emotion-based answers conflict with expectations. (I'm a musician, but I love working alone. Does that mean I should be a producer instead of performer? I'm an entrepreneur but I hate doing business deals. Does that mean I'm more of a CTO than CEO?)

Last week I thought of it a different way, that I like better:

What do you hate NOT doing?

(What makes you feel icky, irritated, annoyed or off-track if you don't do it enough?)

I hate not programming.

Programming, to me, is the ultimate purposeful creativity. I have so many ideas in my head of websites that would make the world a better place if they existed, services that could help people. It's just a matter of taking a thousand hours to type it all out and turn ideas into reality. Any week not programming is a disappoinment to myself and maybe to others.

I hate not writing.

There are so many things I've learned that I think would help other people to know. Things I wish someone had told me sooner. Things that have made my life better, brighter, or wiser. I want to tell everyone these things before I die, in a well-explained way so they're not misunderstood, and easy to pass on to others. And more new ones are added every week. So I have to keep writing to get them all out. Any day I'm not writing, I'm falling further behind in this goal, which I makes me feel worse.

I hate not biking.

I love the adrenaline rush of riding my bike. I love knowing it's good for my health, and making my legs and cardiovascular system stronger so I can bike across India soon. I love it so much that when I don't do it for even a few days, I get annoyed. When I see other people biking, and I'm not biking, I get jealous.

I hate not talking with friends.

I'm in my own head so much, that I love hearing what my friends are thinking about instead. I love how my friends think. I care about them and feel icky when too disconnected from them for too long.

Asking the double-negative seems to be a better indicator of what I really love doing, than asking it in the positive.

Anyway - I'm probably overlooking some of my own, but now I'm more curious to hear yours.

What do you hate NOT doing?'

Before You Die, You Gotta Play This Gig

Hi there,
Reverbnation just published the results of a survey on the venues where most artists want to perform. Top of the heap in New York? Madison Square Garden. Number one in LA? Whiskey a Go Go. Top dog in London? Wembley Stadium. No surprises there.

That would be that place in Sydney? It's not necessarily the biggest venue that holds the most appeal for everyone. For me, it was always The Basement - Sydney's iconic Circular Quay venue. It's dark but classy. It's the kind of place you could turn up and always know you'll see really good live music. Audiences know that and so artists on that stage always seem to be treated with respect. If Prince is coming to town with his stadium tour, he'll make sure he has time for a secret gig at The Basement. 

I have seen countless gigs at The Basement and I had always dreamed of playing there myself one day. I remember one night, quite a few years ago hanging out after watching a show there. Another singer girlfriend and I knew some of the guys in the band so we stayed on with them playing pool, after the rest of the audience had gone home.  

After quite a few drinks, my friend and I decided to explore. We snuck away from the rest of the group with a cigarette lighter showing our path through the now darkened stage area. With mischievous grins to each other (because I wasn't the only one who had always wanted to be on that stage) we opened the door to the backstage area. We marvelled at this cavern of gig posters and outrageous graffiti. After a few excited moments in the artists' den we decide that since we'd gone this far...we spotted the hole in the wall that led to the actual stage and giggling like schoolgirls, rushed each other to go through to the other side. When we got there we paused for a few moments in revered silence then jumped up and down (I believe there was some tap dancing and other Young Talent Time-style choreography) with absolute glee. We had been on the Basement stage!!
The Basement may well always be at the top of my heap. By the way, yes I did get to legitimately perform there - in fact I'm lucky enough to do so regularly, and on each occasion I still relive a bit of the thrill of that very first time.