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

How to Sing Harmonies

Hi there,


I've worked with lots of great lead singers who say they can't sing harmonies. I reckon if you can sing at all then you can absolutely learn to sing harmony. A music teacher would probably train you in intervals, but I'm going to leave that to the pedagogs and give you tips from the shop floor instead.

1. Treat a harmony like a shy melody.

A good backing singer will be able to pick the obvious harmonies to a melody out of the air and won't need to be told what notes to sing exactly. But if that doesn't come naturally to you (yet), just treat your harmony line like a melody – learn it by itself as a tune and then slip it in with the melody once it's in your head. Go to a site like www.karaoke-version.com where you can customize karaoke files and download your song with the lead vocal muted. Listen to that over and over. Once you've got that down, download the track again, this time adding the lead vocal too. If the lead vocal is not pulling you away from your part, you've got it! To truly test yourself, download the entire track with everything bar your backing vocal line and slip it in yourself as you sing along.

2. Tune in on the Wavelength
You probably sing along to the melody of songs on the radio - that's what they're designed for after all. Try to tune into a backing vocal line instead – chances are it will repeat, so by the end of the song the harmony will start to grab your ears. The more you tune your ear to the 'other' vocal lines in songs, the more obvious they become, the more patterns you'll start to notice and the easier it will be to sing harmonies yourself.

3. Make the Bass your Buddy
Some people practise the harmonies at home and feel secure but then imperfect stage sound, nerves and booming Marshall stacks throw them off the scent when it most matters. Ask the sound engineer to put some bass guitar in your foldback wedge. While the guitars and pianos are off playing all sorts of fancy shmancy lines that might throw you, the bass player is playing one note at a time and that note will sometimes be yours.

K-PopStars Girls' Generation, know all about Taking Off.

4. Getting a Smooth Take Off
Lift offs and landings are nerve wracking, right? But when a plane reaches its cruising altitude, it just...cruises and we all breathe easier. As a harmony singer, you need to get the first line right, then once you're in the zone it's pretty easy to stay there. So your first note is crucial. Listen to the intro of the song when you're practising – maybe the lead singer passes by your starting note on the way to the chorus. Keep it in your head until you need it so it you're not just grasping for it out of the blue. Repetition of course always helps - and it will create muscle memory. You need to listen and sing along with your part until it sticks. Then, even if you start freaking out and reaching for your oxygen mask on the big day, you can just breathe and trust that your voice actually knows where to go.


See you next time,
xAmanda

www.amandaeaston.com

Try Hard but don't be a ..Try-Hard

Hi there and happy new year!

Try Hard. It used to really bother me that these two words, when used as a noun, could be negative - how could there by anything wrong with trying your absolute hardest? Call me a try hard and shouldn't it be a compliment? 

But I think I get it now. Recently a newbie pop artist directed me to their YouTube videos. I saw an impressive stage, custom-made sets, multiple back-up singers and slickly-choreographed dancers - all there to support this artist who strutted the stage, changed costumes multiple times and... sorry, but could barely sing in tune! I respect and almost envy the confidence he has to organise and finance what were obviously his own productions, but it all looked very, well... try-hard! Some style perhaps but very little substance.

He was skipping all of the vital steps - he had some of the trappings of the popstar but none of the goods, yet at least. Talk about putting the cart before the horse - and I know a thing or two about going bass ackwards, having announced my CD Launch before actually recording the CD!

Do you remember the 'Marcus is Coming' campaign of the late '80s in Australia? Those three words adorned hundreds of billboards and bus-sides - one of the first examples of a teaser campaign that went viral, before the internet even existed. So much attention ensued that when this singer-songwriter was finally revealed and his song launched, it was slammed viciously from all quarters. It had no chance of living up to the hype.

It might be something to do with our instant celebrity culture, but this kind of thing seems even more common nowadays. Kids (I know, that makes me sound old doesn't it?) want the end result without all the hard work, all the trying hard! 

I say, let it flow naturally man and those set designers will soon be knocking down your door. 

See you next week,
xAmanda

Money for Nothing and your Chicks for Free

Last blog, I talked about Amanda Palmer's recent hoo haa in the hornet's nest - caused by her attempt to cadge free musos on her world tour. Could be she's simply not high enough up the rockstar ladder to get away with it. I had the chance to examine the relationship between celebrities and money close up, this one time at band camp...

It was the late '90s and Bryan Adams was on a world tour. In each city he played he would recruit half a dozen models to strut the stage with him in his opening number. At the time, I was working as a cover band singer, six nights a week in Japan. An American model friend of mine invited me along to her casting and a few hours later I found myself stalking along the catwalk of the Nagoya Entertainment Centre in front of thousands of people with one of the most popular rock performers in the world. (I phoned my own band and begged for forgiveness - I'll be a bit late for my gig tonight because, well, I've got a show with Bryan Adams.) Bryan personally made sure we girls were very well looked after throughout, even sitting down with us for a dinner provided by his personal chef. 

After prancing around during 'The Only Thing That Looks Good on Me is You' we were asked to gather on a set of bleachers set up behind the band and just jump around and enjoy ourselves - thus providing 'colour and movement' for the show. The crew were very friendly and one, knowing that I was a professional singer, gave me some headphones. I was now listening to the same live mix Bryan had in his in-ear monitoring system - cutting edge technology at the time. After the concert I told Bryan that I might need a late note for my own show and so he  - along with his entourage, band, crew and the posse of models - agreed to come to my gig as proof of my excuse.  I've got to admit to never being a particular devotee of Bryan's brand of rock but my Japanese band were fanatical about it and we had at least six of his songs in our repertoire. All of which got trotted out in front of our hallowed audience, once the shock of his entrance had subsided (they hadn't believed a word of my excuse until that point). Some of Bryan's band even got up and jammed with us. When we performed his hit tune 'Everything I do I do it for you' Bryan gave us a standing ovation and yelled out, 'you do that better than me!' 

Did I mention how much we girls got paid to work as part of Bryan's show that night? Now I appreciate I am no professional mannequin but even the kosher models felt the same as I did. What we got out of the whole Bryan Adams experience was worth so much more than any dollars or even yen, the thought of being paid anything at all never crossed our minds.

I talked about currency in my last blog - it's not always the hard stuff. Bryan and co. gave us memories (and bragging rights!) far more valuable than any paypacket and at no time did we feel shortchanged for working for 'free'.

When Bryan and his party left my club in the wee hours, they said their goodbyes and glided right past the cash register where bills, including the $60 entrance fee per person, is usually settled.  I tagged Bryan's manager as he left and he stopped, smiled and shrugged, saying, 'Sorry, but Bryan doesn't pay to get in anywhere. Just the way it is.'  As the rarefied atmosphere of the rockstar party disintegrated, I was faced with the ferocious glare of my boss through the club's everyday smoky haze. His finger was angrily stabbing at the - not inconsequential and not paid - bill. 

To give you an insight into my sudden change of fortunes, let's just say that rumours abound about Yakuza-ownership of nightclubs in Japan.  I don't know for sure if that were true in this case, but a lot of my club owner's cohorts were missing their full complement of fingers. My usual mediocre grasp of the Japanese tongue now completely deserted me so I just gaped at him. I then realised my boss had been outside the main part of the club the whole night and probably hadn't even recognised Bryan. I started singing 'I got my first real six string...' pointing at the receding backs of the entourage as I sang. By the time I got to '...was the Summer of '69' I was thanking God and even some Shinto deities, that music is a universal language. And Bryan's star did shine particularly bright in Asia. Some suitable Japanese words tripped back on to my tongue and in no time my boss was clapping his hands with excitement and looking at me as if to say 'Ah, well why didn't you say so?!'  And I still have all my fingers.