Listen to your Mother

Hi there,
 
At what point do you get so good at doing something, there is very little room left for improvement? Or, when exactly is a dog too old to learn new tricks? 

The poster from my first ever cover band.

One of the comments, supposed compliments I hated getting in the early part of my singing career was: 'you've got so much potential'. I just wanted to be there, not always feel like I was just 'on the way'. But then, over the years and after hundreds of gigs, I could feel myself improving and I saw it all more like a steep hill you had to climb in order to get to that pesky 'potential', where you could surely afford to take a breather. 

But then my mum came to see me sing the other day and when I sat down with her in the break, she looked at me (or perhaps it would be more accurate to say 'looked right into me' like only a mother can) and said: 'you sing differently now'. I held my breath, steeling myself for criticism. She continued: ''I like it much better. You sing higher notes I didn't know you could and the notes move around more. You're a better singer,". I didn't like what I was hearing, because if I really had improved, there must have been something lacking before - and I thought I'd already climbed that hill! 

On reflection (OK and prodding from my husband) I realised what she said was great news - not only because being a better singer can only be a good thing but also, if I'm still learning then I mustn't yet be an old dog!!

See you next time,
Amanda

www.amandaeaston.com

5 Reasons NOT to Sing Covers

Hi there,

I’ve spent a lot of cyber inches defending the practice of singing ‘other people’s songs’ but today I’m going to be the Devil’s Advocate. Here's why you should not sing covers if you want to be an original music artist:

Amanda Gaga

     1. Branding Badly – The pilgrimage from disco queen territory to cool indie princess land is a long and arduous one. If you want to make a decent living from singing covers, chances are you will be singing pop and dance hits from the last three decades. Once you establish a reputation – among punters and industry – as this type of performer, it’s hard work shaking that image and establishing a new one at the other end of the spectrum of cool. 

2. Sullying your Style  – Becoming an original artist is all about finding and honing what is individual about you. On the other hand, the best cover and session singers can sing just about anything and do it convincingly. Cover singers spend so much time in Lady Gaga’s songwriting shoes that it can drag their skills and style in everybody’s direction but their own.

3. Distracting Habits – A few gigs a week, a few sets a gig adds up to lots of other people’s songs to be learnt. And if you want to stay in that game you can’t rest on your repertoire. It needs to be constantly refurbished and revised. Precious time that you could be spending writing your own masterpieces.

4. Losing the Love – sweaty, sleazy punters (show me one cover singer who’s never heard ‘Show us Yer Tits’ during a normal night’s work); a sound system from 1975 that makes it almost impossible to hear yourself sing; being on stage in front of a Spinal Tap-worshipping guitarist making it almost impossible to hear yourself sing; venues that make you sit in a broom cupboard in between sets and then ‘forget’ to pay you…you get the picture and I’m only scratching the surface of this particular image. If you were doing your own thing you might see a light through the end of the tunnel of poker machines, but sometimes singing Beyonce and Britney night after night just doesn’t make this scene worth it!

5. Showing your Bad Side – When you write for yourself, you custom the songs to suit you. You don’t have to try to sound like Ke$ha to please the punters.  Your own lyrics reflect the way only you would express yourself and you can manoeuver the melody to sit in your sweet spot. You’re presenting a brand new piece of art that is all you with no compromises and shows you at your best.

Next time: ‘Five Reasons You SHOULD Sing Covers’.

As usual, love to hear what you think,

Cheers,

Amanda

www.amandaeaston.com

Length IS important

Hi there,

It's an age old dilemma - do we choose quality or quantity, width over length?

I'm not sure when it happened in the music industry here, but one day I woke up and agents were telling me that if my band wanted to compete, we had to play longer. The standard - I'm talking covers bands, in pubs and the like - was to perform 3 sets of 40 minutes. But then some bands started offering to do 4 or even 5 sets of 45-50 minutes for the same fee and of course many agents and venues were hiring them instead. Fast forward to now - those same venues are saying: 'Live entertainment doesn't work - it doesn't bring in the punters'. 

Well I disagree - 'Rubbish entertainment doesn't work'.  And even good entertainment wears thin after about 3 hours. There is such thing as too much of a good thing. People go out to socialise and that's hard to do with almost constant live music. It gets to the point where punters have had enough, the excitement wears off and they drift off to talk to their friends in another room or tune in to the delights of the one arm bandits. Live entertainment then becomes little more than elevator music. And that's no fun for the band either - without a dedicated audience it's hard to give a great performance. And while stomping the stage is an exhilirating thing to do, it is also physically and emotionally draining (when done well) so after about 3 hours the audience is not getting the best out of a band anyway.

We all want the best value for our money but I think PT Barnum of the 'Greatest Show on Earth' (Barnum and Bailey Circus) knew a thing or two about great entertainment. He said 'Always Leave Them Wanting More'.

So, until next week...

'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 :)