On being yourself...and playing the pan flute.

Hi there,

I did a cabaret gig today. I arrived at the venue early enough to catch the last 15 minutes of the act that preceded me. He was one of those old school entertainers who seem to be good at everything. I heard him play the piano, sing and even play the didgeridoo within the space of a few minutes. He played and sang a rousing version of 'We are Australian' that hit the audience right where they wanted it. He knew his crowd and had them in his palm - they were in raptures. But it was when he pulled out the pan flute that I really started to worry. That little insecure version of me living inside my head was saying  'All you do is sing! Listen to how they're clapping and cheering, and you're going on after him. How are you going to follow that?'

Then that little devil came out of my head and made herself quite comfortable on my shoulder, so she could leer and belittle directly into my ear: 'You'd better think of something you can do that's different and special or you're going to be a big let down!'

One of my favourite carpets. But is it enough to
make up for my lack of pan flute expertise?

It was a seconds before showtime and all I could think of that was special about me was that I had purple hair and a cool collection of carpet photos. I know, I could enter the stage walking on my hands? Except that I was wearing a long sequinned dress. And... I can't actually walk on my hands. 

So with no more time for thinking or listening to internal party poopers, I launched on the stage and into what I normally do. Which is just sing (people really clapped and cheered!). And tell a few funny stories about growing up and dates gone wrong (people really laughed!). 

One lady from the audience stopped me on my way out after the show and said, 'after that young man opened the show today, my friends and I were all feeling really sorry for you, knowing you would have to follow him, and him being so wonderful! Then she squeezed my arm and said, 'But you came out and we could tell you were just being yourself and it was wonderful in a different way.'  Aww, wisdom from the mouth of...well a wise older person.

I don't have to spell out the moral of this little story, do I?

Until next time...
xAmanda
www.amandaeaston.com

When Audiences Don't Like You

Hi there,

A singer friend of mine once joked (in that way things are said when they are absolute truth and no joke at all) that performers become performers because they crave the approval of others. That's a bit too scary to contemplate for me right now so perhaps that particular can of worms can be prised open another time. But I will agree that applause is pretty damn nice.

But have you experienced an audience that doesn't like you? Maybe they don't like the colour or your hair, tone of your voice, choice of repertoire or simply don't dig the cut of your jib? It's hard to please all of the people all of the time and how do we know what they actually think about us anyway? 

I recently did a piano bar gig where I couldn't help but notice an older gentleman in the audience giving me a definite look of distaste. He was facing me square on with his arms folded and a sneer on his face and every now and then he would say something into the ear of his companion - obviously about me. Of course this made me try even harder. I feel like I'm pretty good at matching a repertoire with an audience and so I looked at him and tried to chose songs I thought he'd like. I smiled extra big and tried to be extra charming. But I got nothing. No smile, no clapping, no positive response from this guy at all. Then at the end of the night as he was walking out the door, he pressed a $US100 note in my hand and said 'great job'. Whether that situation says more about my own insecurity or about how audiences often don't react as they feel, I don't know!

I worked with a very experienced professional comedian recently who was so completely put off by the punters' reserved response that he fluffed his lines and really struggled to stay on his game at all. As much as we love our applause and feed off an audience's reaction, surely our experience should allow us to override negative vibes and continue tap dancing as fast as we can?

I think we owe it to our audiences to deliver our best performance possible, regardless of their reactions, but it ain't easy! I'm sure we've all experienced cultural differences at shows. In my two years performing in Japan I got used to crowds who sat very passively, politely clapping in between songs but otherwise very unresponsive, only to have to wave away fanatical expressions of undying love and excessive praise from the same people, after the show had finished. 

I heard someone say recently that Aussie audiences are the rudest and least 'giving'. What do you think? If you tell me your story I promise to clap very hard and respond enthusiastically!

xAmanda
www.amandaeaston.com

Put me on the Door?

Hi there,

I've said 'Put me on the door?' many times myself and it seems such a small ask, doesn't it? Please just write my name on that precious piece of paper - the one in possession of the door biatch - so that I don't have to pay to get in the club. There was one period of my life and career that I wore as a badge of honour the fact that I never paid to get into any gig I wanted to go to. It was my selfish 20-somethings and I felt that my industry somehow owed me that.

I'd like to think that passing years have made me wiser and less selfish but truthfully, it has been my experience on the 'other' side of the velvet rope that has really made me think differently. When you ask for free entry to a gig, who is really paying the price?

I am now often the promoter of the shows I perform in. The promoter is the person at whose feet the financial responsibility ultimately falls. Depending on the deal, too few tickets sold can directly hit the promoter in the hip pocket. Venues are less willing to take financial risk nowadays, so will often offer 'door deals'. That means a promoter gets paid only by receiving a percentage of the ticket prices and out of that, must pay the band, possibly the sound system and engineer, promotional costs and any other expenses. Obviously in this situation, any tickets given away are tickets that can't be sold to help the promoter make costs. 

When you're an indie artist putting on your own gig, you're a promoter whether you like it or not. If all your friends and family ask to be 'put on the door', what chance have you got to break even let alone actually get paid for your work? For an indie gig I promoted at The Basement a few years ago, I worked out that even with a house almost full of paying punters, if I included all the hours I had spent working towards this event, my hourly rate would make even a Nike factory worker blush! 

I once invited an agent to see a show I was in, and I offered to put him on the door. He said he would be happy to come and see my gig but insisted on paying his way. His belief was that it was our duty to support each other in this industry and always paying to see gigs was one way to stop live music being devalued. That was the first time I had heard this particular point of view, and I eventually adopted it as my own.

So, is all this to say that no smart businessperson would ever give away tickets? Not at all! Recently I was working with an international act in their first time to tour in Australia. One of the venues for this act was only half sold, two days out from the show date. In this case, the act's promoter had negotiated a guaranteed fee, so the financial risk lay with the venue itself this time. As part of the deal, the venue had offered the promoter a small number of 'comps' which they had duly given to various industry folk - but they found they needed more freebies than were offered. Obviously the venue would prefer to sell than give them away so they decided to cross their arms and refuse to give the promoters any additional free tickets. But in this case, that is exactly what the venue should have done. In fact, they should have been giving away tickets with gusto! A full room is in everybody's interest. A full house creates the illusion of success - it's more exciting for the artist and even audience members prefer the atmosphere of a well attended show. Giving away unsold tickets is such common practice (I was lucky enough to see Pink at the Entertainment Centre as a result of this strategy) that it has a name - it's called 'Papering the House', and it is an art. Don't do it too early and risk losing last minute sales - and when you do do it, be discreet so that paying audience, media and reviewers don't suspect!

The bottom line is that giving away tickets directly affects someone's bottom line one way or another. We all know there is no such thing as a free lunch - we need to also realise there is no such thing as a free gig!

All the best for Christmas and a safe and successful 2016,
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

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

Do you want to ride The Beast or the Ladybird?

Hi there,

When I was starting out in this business, I sang in a Top 40 Dance Band with another female singer. She also did regular gigs in cocktail bars and even sang at weddings and parties. She had gone to a Performing Arts High School - like the kids in 'Fame'. To me, she had it made and I looked up to her. She had what I wanted - she lived off her music and even owned her own microphone. I felt I was on my way to living the dream she had already achieved. 

But she always seemed restless and after a few weeks she sat me down and told me she was leaving the band. Why would anyone want to do that? We had a gig that was highly sought after by every other covers band in town - a well paid residency to big crowds in a classy venue. But she looked at me knowingly and said, 'look while you're 21 this is all great but I'm about to turn 25 (!) and it's time I got on with life.' She wanted a real job with a real income and some stability. 'You'll be the same when you're 25, you wait.'

Well I'm not going to tell you how distant a memory my 25th birthday is, but let's say that things are still looking green and lush from my side of the fence. I experienced a solid wage and security thanks to the corporate jobs I took after uni, so the lure of that life was never that strong for me. 

I recently overheard a muso saying something particularly wise to another after listening to him bitch bitterly about our industry (we've all been there). The wise one said and I paraphrase, 'As professional musos we sign up for the rollercoaster. Our lows can be really low but our highs are right up there. If we wanted safe we would have got on the Ladybird ride but that just wouldn't be much fun'. 

I'll take one ticket to white knuckled exhilaration and stomach lurching intensity with the earth teetering beneath my feet, thank you. By the way, I now own three microphones.

See you next time,
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com

Agents...who needs em?!

Hi there,

Why would you use an agent to get you gigs?

It's an agent's job to have strong relationships with venues, event bookers and even other agents. A good one will harness these contacts to get you work you might not otherwise get - and then manage the booking so that you can focus on just entertaining the masses. It's quite a luxury, well worth paying for in my book, that allows you to just be a performer and leave the business to the business people.

Now before you get the wrong idea, I'm not hear to praise all agents from the rooftops - it is an occupation up there with car sales and real estate in the trustworthy stakes, in some cases. However, one of my pet hates is entertainers constantly bitching about their agents (not suggesting I don't indulge in that sport myself occasionally). I booked a weekly singer songwriter night (PopTarts) for almost 10 years and while I wasn't strictly an 'agent', I certainly did a lot of the same work they did. And I can tell you, it's bloody hard! Dealing with publicans who measure entertainment success in terms of schooners sold and entertainers for whom the notion of promotion is a nebulous one can be frustrating and soul destroying. So before pissing on your promoter, try doing their job for yourself.

The problem is, a business hat doesn't always sit comfortably alongside an artistic hat on the same head - not everyone is cut out to balance books and belt out a ballad as well. But I do believe everyone needs to pull their head out of that creative soil just briefly to at least learn the basics.

Like many of my fellow songstresses, I've been doing this long enough that I have a pretty good idea what venues and event organisers are after. We should know how to do our own promotion and paperwork and understand the importance of being a business buff as well as polished performer. No one knows better than the act themselves, what they need, so could we just cut out that middle person - oh and save that at least 10% agent fee? Yes and No.

It's a tenuous world of work that I inhabit, where a gig can disappear on a whim. So I book about 50% of my work directly and the rest through a handful of agents I have built a rapport with - I like to share my eggs around in different people's baskets. I guess I just have to hope I get to deal more with competent cockerel types than the cocks.

See you next time!
Amanda
www.amandaeaston.com