Inspiration means it makes you think

I go to a lot of shows.  Some nights it’s a job hazard and some nights a pleasure.  It is especially delightful when a show inspires me. 

Because when you work in entertainment for a living, going to a show can be like eating at the restaurant you cook at.  You work with the ingredients so much that you can’t really taste the food anymore.  But on nights when it’s so good you can still taste the food anyway, it’s astounding.

Lately I’ve found that it’s not the shows that try hard that are inspiring me.  It’s the shows that are leaving space in the night for the audience to think and feel.  The shows that focus on perfection of execution but that don’t try too hard to keep me occupied the whole time I am experiencing.  The shows that give me a little credit for having a mind of my own, an imagination of my own.

Recently, Alvin Ailey’s show at the Wang (sorry I mean Citi Center), did just that.  In each of the three segments, I found myself thinking, feeling. 

Nothing was in a hurry. 

Nothing was trying to make me laugh or cry or jump around. 

The music became rhythm became movement became dancing became thoughts became dancing became movement became rhythm became music again.

And in between the movements, the thoughts that came in were surprising.

During the first segment, a tribute to the Harlem Renaissance, I found myself thinking about culture.  About tribes.  About our individual desire to belong to something important and meaningful.  As the dance explored the humor and festive celebration of Harlem in that time, I couldn’t help thinking about other movements that have centralized on a neighborhood.  The Castro for Gay People.  The Village for Folksingers.  New Orleans for Jazz.  Hollywood for Film.  Detroit for Motown.  San Francisco for the Internet.  Places that represent movements and historic periods of time.  I came from a place like that, that meant something.  Lexington Massachusetts - a place of Revolution.  And I lived/worked in San Francisco during the Dotcom Boom/Bust.  I think both coincidences have very much informed my opinion on things.  Those thoughts led me to consider how important that is to me – to live in places and times that are memorable.  Places and times of change.  And it led me to consider what that next place should be.  And it made me want to go there, and start that new movement, right away.  A great performance can do that!

During the second segment, an exploration of the influences on modern dance in which the dancers showed how movement from African dance has migrated to current movements, I couldn’t help thinking about the beauty in collaboration.  I thought about one of my former bosses at an ad agency, who was an Alvin Ailey dancer before working in advertising, and how much that must have informed his sense of what it means to be a team.  How I had no idea that was what he was trying to do with my team.  And now I know why he inspired me so much when we worked together.  I thought about how rare it is to see true collaboration in the singer-songwriter world, and how important I think it is to find a way to fund and create safe space for that collaboration.  How cool it would be if a music company could be created like a theater company.  In which there certainly would be power dynamics and leads and choruses, but imagine if some of our country’s greatest songwriters were asked to work together in team collaboration for an extended period of time to create something instead of constantly duking it out one by one for individual “success.”  I thought about orchestras and choruses, theater companies and dance companies.  How hard it is for them to get funded and earn a living, but how transcendent the work is. 

I’ve been focused lately on how great shows can change our lives, make us see things in ourselves we did not see before.  A show is not just a sum of the songs and in between banter.  Too often artists think of the in between as extra stuff they say.  But the in between IS the show.  The pacing of a show can have so much to do with how inspired an audience feels.

Getting Big

When independent music started being a “trend,” fans loved this idea that they might “find” an artist “before they became big.”  And somehow, even though the world has changed, fans still have this concept in their head.  That they might know an artist and see them in a small venue today, and then two years later they might be playing a stadium.  And they can point to the artist and tell all their friends, “I knew them when…”

C’est d’hommage, my friends.  If anything, it’s the other way around now.  You might hear an artist in an amphitheater and then that builds enough of an audience to sustain them two years later playing in small theaters, clubs and listening rooms.

All the time, I hear fans say to an artist, to their face, usually after a show - “You’re amazing.  You ought to be bigger.”  They think it’s a compliment, but for most artists that’s just a crushing thought.  In their mind, they’re doing everything they know how to do to get known.  But today it’s up to the fans to make an artist bigger.

So as an artist, you have to ask yourself,

“What type of fans am I cultivating?

“Are the people who listen to my music the types who share their favorite music with others, or the types who hovel in a corner and hoard the the things they love?”

“What can I do to help them help me?”

And as a manager, I have to ask myself,

“How will the fan mindset change as it sinks in that people don’t ‘get big’ like that anymore?”

“How is fan behavior changing, now that they feel so overwhelmed with all the different and new music being pummeled at them on Facebook and Twitter today?”

“What is it that still makes a fan feel open to and excited about something new?”

Grammys and Oscars

I couldn't stand the Grammys - that show made no sense.  It did not give any feel for what the real, feet on the street music industry is today.  It left America as confused as ever about what music is good and worth buying, much less shaping our culture.  I stopped watching after Pink's performance cuz I figured that was probably as good as it would get.  And I couldn't even tell you if she had a new album I was supposed to know about...

The Oscars, as Lefsetz aptly put in his blog about the Oscars, did a good job pointing out the movies I didn't see and made me want to see them.  But I had mixed feelings about it – and it only made me think about all the things the film industry does to further the craft that the music industry does not do.

I watched the whole darn Oscars show because I was waiting to hear the great acceptance speech that never came.  Which might seem disappointing.  But interestingly enough, I believed the actors might have something inspiring, history making to say.  And that means something.  I’m not sure that even occurred to me when watching the Grammys.  I don’t really think many musicians being elevated today have that much that’s interesting to say.  Not sure they are encouraged to be that self-aware, much less craft aware.

I listened to the radio simultaneously on my iPhone during The Oscards, ‘cuz the interview they were doing on WXPN in Philly was more interesting than giving Oscar full attention. I’m not sure if that behavior is old fashioned - like my Dad listening to a ballgame on the radio while watching with the TV muted because the radio talk was always better.  Or if I’m newfangled – like the kids who are gaming, IMing, VOIPing, Facebooking and listening to music at the same time.

The one thing I will say for the Oscars that the Grammys does not do is present a sense that these people are career artists working on their craft.  In the Lefsetz blog he said "in music we expect you to get better and better" - but frankly, I think Lefsetz might feel that way, and I feel that way, and probably a few others agree, but I don't think the Grammys suggest a music industry that believes that AT ALL.  If anything it minimizes the genres in which artists sustain careers long enough to get better and better over time.  And during Grammy-season, those genres are infiltrated by celebrities who pop in for a year just to get the prize and disappear.  The true heroes of these genres never get recognized on a national, publicized level.

The Grammys doesn't really think about the music or musicians being celebrated.  The Grammys applauds artists not for doing well, taking risks, leaping new bounds, or creating daring/compelling new recordings.  They just present a front that music stars still exist in our culture, and they do it to feed a big fat irrelevant beast.  In hopes the public will buy it.  But the public is getting bored with all that.  And boredom is the first telltale sign of demise…

Music is stuck in a rut.  And has been for a long time.  We’ve been glorifying old acts that only sell volume because labels put money into them in the '80s.  And we’ve been pushing over-polished, uninspired acts that have nothing in particular to say.  It used to be an artist "sold out" in order to get mass appeal.  Now with the thriving niche, and how lame it is to seem mainstream or inauthentic, I'm not sure "selling out" is even worth the trouble, stalkers, detox and mental breakdowns anymore.

So how do we find a way, in this new world of music, to actually reward the artists who are doing well? 

There is simply more music out there.  More musicians recording and touring than ever before.  And audiences have diverse taste.  They’re listening to 5 different genres in one afternoon.  They get excited about a new artist for a period of time, but since there are so many new artists everyday, it’s nearly impossible to retain mindshare.  Doing well means something totally different than it used to – and The Grammys are stuck in the old music world.

The film industry’s response to burgeoning independence has been promotion of independent film outlets/taste makers like IFC, Sundance, Cannes.  Festivals and networks that choose – and sanction which independent artists should get the most exposure.  Which makes it more viable to invest in independent films.  And look what, in a relatively short time, the support of those films has done to the major productions!  Do you see the influence of independent filmmaking on The Hurt Locker?

And speaking of the best film of the year…  The Oscars, at least, reward movies that represent heavy, thoughtful material, creative risk-taking and people with real talent.  I’ve been watching all those movies I missed – as kindly prescribed by The Oscars show programming.  And every film I’ve watched so far has been new, unique, compelling.  The best actors’ performances have been inspired and truly award-winning.  The collaborations happening in that scene elevate the craft.

In the Grammys, and the music industry at large, we haven't had the guts to reward something intense, thoughtful and courageous in a very long time.  Which is why we haven't had anything amazing happen in a very long time.

Can we do something to change that?

Reality Television Ate My Culture

In any job, there are days when you feel like the mountain is unmovable and days when you feel like you are in charge. 

Working in music, everyday is a negotiation between these feelings. 

In this regard, Music industry gurus will go on and on about power, and leverage, and networks, and conglomerates – the difference in response you get as a music manager/agent working with acts when they are yet-to-break or already known and in demand.  Or the difference in being part of a large agency or management network, as compared to flying solo.  And sure, we take all that in stride, believe in our clients, and trudge through.  Because every artist in demand was once an unknown.  Because artists who are already known have to reinvent themselves to reach more people.  Because we either like being part of a big machine, or being nimble and independent – it’s something we know about ourselves – and we are willing to pay our prices.  Keeping a balance in these things is good.

But lately I’ve been obsessed with a different kind of mountain.

Authenticity.  And the lack of it in our culture.

I had an email exchange with a friend of mine the other day about reality television.  What would a reality television show for Folk music look like?  And would it be compelling?

I remember the year American Idol came out – I found myself conflicted about whether or not the producers and judges really knew the meaning of the word “Idol” and what it meant to be and American Idol.  Now, seasons and international syndications later, the term “American Idol” has taken on its own meaning.  Three years ago, I would have said to be an “idol” you had to have staying power, creativity, uniqueness, and you had to have the guts to push American people to believe in something they didn’t know they believed in.  But now, I’ve learned that “idol” doesn’t mean that at all.  Three years ago, I would have said Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen, Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, Stevie Wonder and Bob Marley were idols.  But now I don’t think that’s what “idol” means anymore.  Because of this show.  Wow.  The machine moved me.

Still, so what is Bob Dylan if not an idol?  Neil Young?  Meatloaf?  John Denver?  Paul Simon?  Ozzy Osbourne?  James Taylor?  Janis Joplin? 

You know, Janis might be a good person to start with…  She’s a great example of an artist who reached (and still reaches) mass audiences based on pure, authentic, raw Janis.  She was imperfect - her band was out of tune, she said whatever was on her mind whether or not it made good press (and that’s what often made the press), and she was a self-proclaimed ugly misfit.  But man did she mean something to people.  And she is considered one of the quintessential artists of the hippie era, so she will always have a voice.

I can’t help thinking today almost none of these people I’ve mentioned would get heard.  In the past, our idols weren’t pristine, pretty, singing nice songs, spending 3 hours in hair and makeup before the show.  They didn’t worry about what HDTV would do to their complexion.  They weren’t honing their performance to appease 3 of 4 judges – they weren’t even thinking about that.  In fact, some of them weren’t even thinking about the fans.  Most of the time they thought about doing their own thing, saying what they had to say, being what they had no choice but to be – because it was really (for the most part) them. 

I’m not going to say work and marketing didn’t go into creating the personas our idols were.  Certainly there were business machines a turnin’.  But those machines took risks, and there was pride in bringing something truly new to light.  Primetime wasn’t reserved for artists who already had legendary status alone – the Superbowl wasn’t about bringing back classic rock bands who already sell records.  Events like those were about breaking new talent.

The people who influenced our culture most in the ‘60s, ‘70's, ‘80s, even ‘90s were sometimes ugly and raw.  They wrote songs that were tonally imperfect but culturally imperative to their moment on the airwaves.  They had things to say that we didn’t always want to hear.  We didn’t know why we loved them so much – we just knew we did.  They made us feel like the world kept changing.  Like some things would always remain.  And most of all, like we were alive.

As a manager, I meet so many fine artists.  All slogging it out in this newly fragmented media world, all cultivating their niche audiences like fiends, and doing everything they can to get their music heard.  I am inspired by these artists every day.  And I feel lucky to know them, to watch them grow, to celebrate their successes, and commiserate when times are rough.  But I just can’t help thinking – our culture is missing out right now.  In a time of great political debates and upheaval, war, environmental strife, natural disasters – we are not calling on our troubadours AT ALL. 

Today’s Bob Dylan is accepting friend requests on Facebook and hoping he can afford to fly to Chicago instead of driving. 

Today’s Joni Mitchell hasn’t had a free moment to herself because she’s been redesigning her web site and can’t figure out how to create a decent photo gallery without making a million little thumbnails and resizes. 

Today’s Meatloaf is working an office job and hasn’t played a gig since ‘99 because his name was just too much to overcome.  And forget the loss to music… What will Broadway do without him?

Today’s Tracy Chapman plays music when she can, but being shy just isn’t possible in this business anymore. 

Today’s Bob Marley has a loyal cult fan following, and does really well in 3 or 4 cities, but can’t seem to get his music out beyond that niche audience.  Radio won’t return his calls.

Today’s Elton John sounds great and everybody tells him so, but he can’t seem to get out of the cabaret rooms. 

Today’s Janis Ian had a video on YouTube that got 300,000 views, but there was no promoter standing in the wings saying he’d support her no matter what the audience thinks, so she’s on her own.

Today’s Sting had some instrumental from one of his songs put in a snowboarding video game, and he’s thinking maybe he should write more songs like that, and maybe find someone who knows how to develop on open source so he can release a Hero game to his fans.

Today’s Woodstock happened and the lineup was killer but nobody got in their hybrid vehicles to drive there.  (Really, it happened in Maine two summers ago.  Were you there?  I didn’t think so…)  Anyway, none of the artists got paid, even though they played their hearts out.  It’s just not kosher for an artist to require getting paid in advance since marijuana can no longer be blamed for “flaking out.”

So, what’s my point?

I dunno.  Maybe we need an American Troubadour reality television show to remind America how our stories get told.

Another reality television show I watched recently was RuPaul’s Drag Race on MTV/Logo.  In that show, drag queens compete for the title of the next super-drag queen.  And RuPaul’s criteria are Beauty, Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent.

Hmm…  What would be the criteria for the American Troubadour show?  And who would be its Tyra Banks?

Labels and managers and agents don’t do the work for you

I read an article the other day about a new, up and coming musician.  I read a lot of articles like this, I suppose.  Like it’s my job.  Wait, it is my job.  Anyway, I read this one start to finish.  Which I don’t usually do.  But I had heard this artist, knew some of his music, but really didn’t know that much about him and I wanted to.  So I read it. 

All was going swimmingly in the article – he grew up in the middle of nowhere, traveled the country picking up stories and songs in his travels.  He never thought he’d get paid to make music, but he needed the money and he finally found a way to make a living that he loved.  But then something terrible happened.  He got a manager and an agent and a label to do the work for him, so now he can be an Artist.

What??

All of a sudden my bullshit radar kicked in and I couldn’t read on. 

I mean, if you are a musician who has partnered up with a label and management and an agent in this day and age, no offense but - you’re either naive or on crack if you think that’s the way you get to be left alone by people to be the artist you want to be. 

You’ve just invited the fox, the bear and the elephant into your kitchen.  Ahh, isn’t it lovely and quiet in this kitchen?  Wait, the fox is digging through your cupboards and the bear is pooping everywhere and the elephant keeps breaking things and can’t forget the good old days.

Now, that might be an overstatement.  But my point is, my friend, if you hire others to work with you in the expansion of your music business venture, you will not suddenly have all the business taken care of for you so you can be an Artist.  You are just as responsible as you were before, if not more. 

You will have MORE work to do.  Any artist in this position can attest. 

Suddenly you have three people to answer to.  You have to keep them all up to date, keep them on board, and keep them inspired.  Sell them on what you are doing.  You have to guide them and manage them on what you want them to do for you, and on which of their ideas you like most.  You have to give them something to go on – all the time.  You have to respond.  Dear god, respond.  To more emails than you can possibly handle.  To more emails than will fit on your iPhone or crackberry.  Sometimes you need to redirect their attention to what you REALLY want them to be doing, so they don’t run amuck with your career.  So they are spending their time on the things you think will have the most impact.  You have to negotiate with them, bother them, sometimes even have conflict and argue with them.

Now I’m not saying these relationships are bad things to have.  But please know – when you expand your operation, you are still the CEO.  You are in charge.  The buck stops with you.

On saying thank you...

Could it be that the time of gratitude has passed?

At lunch the other day, I found out a friend's company (major global corporation) actually instructs people in new employee training sessions NOT to reply in email to thank people. In an effort to reduce the size of people's inboxes, the company has across the board eliminated thanks. Talk about SCROOGE.

As a bold move of quiet rebellion, my friend simply added "thank you" in her signature. Maybe she's the ghost of gratitude past... But now she thanks everyone!

Have we become so inundated with content in our culture that we find gratitude to be unnecessary and superfluous? An annoying task that should be omitted to save time? Sometimes the occasional thank you is my favorite email to receive. It makes all the other emails worthwhile. Gives a feeling of closure. Completeness. Meaning in life.

As in... "Yes, we did it. And I couldn't have done it without you. THANK YOU."

*sigh* A momentary memory of what business used to be. What our culture used to be. Now we just expect people to watch our Facebook newsfeed to see if we appreciated them. And if they don't notice us when we Twittered about how cool lunch was, then screw them. It's their fault they don't know we care.

We must strike back, folks! We must stop this madness of not thanking people before it spreads further. We must fight for the right to thank people for their hard work, dedication, patience, and good humor. Thanking people is an integral part of the œpursuit of happiness afterall. Right? Don't you think??

So I say screw the rules. Don't listen to scrooges. Go forth and appreciate!

By the way, thanks for lunch...........

Ten pointers for performers

1.  EYE CONTACT
Looking up is ALWAYS good.  No matter how funky or mysterious a vibe you are trying to create - eyes closed, looking down/away, low brim hats, sunglasses, hoods, hair in your face – all of these things create distance between you and your audience.  Distance that is never positive, and for 999 out of 1000 performers, cannot be overcome with any amount of cool. 

I know I sound like your mother on the first day of school, but pay attention anyway.  REMOVE all barriers between you and your audience, not matter if there are 50 people in the room or 50,000 people in the room.  Practice like hell so you don’t have to look at your instrument while you are playing.  Open your eyes.  Stop looking at the back wall.  Even on a jumbotron, the audience likes to think they might see your eyes. 

If you are still in the camp that thinks appearing evasive on stage is cool…  Trust me.  When a creepy/eery/mysterious artist looks up at the audience, it’s piercingly the most direct and intense way to portray that vibe you are trying to create. 

2.  OVERSHARING IS A BUZZ KILL
While there are artists who have built a following because of their tendency to confess things that are considered taboo, unless you want that to be the very basis of your business/persona, keep your recent experiences on the toilet, picking your various body parts, or discussions in bed with your significant other to yourself.  Really, most audiences will not become more endeared to you and your music if they know it was written on the toilet.  Or worse yet, that it was dropped in the toilet and recovered. 

Stick to the stories that can be universally understood and appreciated – those that are entertaining.  And those that you know will add to the experience of your music.  We’re not in 2nd grade anymore.  Farts no longer need to be a huge part of our repertoire. 

Now, if you decide to make oversharing your connection strategy, then keep in mind…  Artists who succeed at this usually do so because they speak for people who have not otherwise had a voice.  They say and sing about things marginalized groups of people experience but never talk about – usually out of intimidation or fear to do so. 

I once heard a label A&R exec say, “People like to hear an artist describe something they have felt or thought but they have never heard it said aloud before.  Or at least not put quite that way…”

Just remember, if you are approaching performance in a way that includes a lot of personal detail commonly considered mundane, there needs to be a sense that what you are sharing is universal within the niche you are addressing.  Something that commonly occurs within that particular community – that outsiders might not understand – but because your fans are on the inside with you, they do.  That’s what makes the story special, and that approach succeed.

3.  DON’T BE BORING
On the other end of the overshare spectrum is stage banter that makes audiences beg to be put out of their misery.  Don’t feel like you have to talk. Similar to what your momma used to say, “if you don’t have something nice to say, say nothing at all.”  But for performance, “if you don’t have something interesting to say, just fucking PLAY.” 

4.  EXPLAIN WHAT NEEDS EXPLAINING
Don’t feel like you have to explain what the song you are about to sing means.  I’ve heard performing songwriter Susan Werner say in performance workshops that if you have to explain the song in order for the audience to understand it when they hear it, then you better go back and rework the song, cuz it’s not written well enough.  You know, I tend to agree.  As an audience member I don’t really want to hear what you think the song means to you – I want to be able to suspend the disbelief of what it means to me.  And if you’ve already painted four of the colors on my canvas with your introduction of the song, then I don’t really have that liberty anymore, do I?  I might be interested to know what inspired you to write the song – but ONLY if the inspiration is in itself interesting and adds, not detracts, from the song’s integrity.  Remember, many audience members will think about the things you said on stage every time they listen to you in the car.  If your story about the song is going to undermine that experience, well, proceed with caution.

5.  CRAFT THE AUDIENCE JOURNEY
The songs you sing should be presented in context with the overall experience you are trying to craft throughout the night.  And in context with what may be happening in the world or in the lives of the audience that make these songs most timely and meaningful to them in that moment.  Consider that journey as you think thru your possible commentary for the evening. 

No need to script things, but do consider the general ebb and flow of the evening.  Too often I have seen artists just think about when to play fast or slow songs.  Or when to play the totally depressing number so they can recover with something chipper.  Or when it’s easiest to tune to that key.  Or when it’s easiest to get the drummer back up on stage.  (Gee, this is sounding like it might make for a whole other blog posting of it’s own…) 

Think about the emotional and sonic journey combined with any barriers the location or time of show might present to you achieving that journey.  And craft your commentary to support that entire journey, not just each song by song.

6.  IT’S ALL NEW TO THE AUDIENCE
This is one of the hardest things to remember, especially if you perform 80-150 dates/year, and especially if you are a truly inspired and talented musician.  Because with creativity comes a necessary restlessness.  You will simply need to find a way to channel that drive to create more new now into on stage spontaneity on stage and writing off stage.

Do NOT feel like you have to vary your set list and song order every night to keep things fresh.  Do NOT feel like you’ve failed if you tell the same story one night after the next.  Do NOT feel like you have to play a different guitar solo every night. 

Craft and refine your set list over time – only making changes because something didn’t work the night before or because you think something might work better.  If a story you told in San Antonio went over well with the audience, by all means tell it again in Austin.  Like they say, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it…  If you play an instrumental section long enough to finally get good at it, for god’s sake don’t change it just because you think that makes you some sort of guitar hero.  Famous guitar riffs become that by being repeated night after night after night after night to audience applause. 

Just remember, while it may not be new to you, whatever it is, it IS new to the audience TONIGHT. 

Many artists only think about their set, their show, their band.  You be the artist who acknowledges that the audience is new every night.  THEY are to be your source of spontaneity.  Let the newness come from the other people in the room with you – experience what is unique about them in real time and you will really be onto what makes live performance so thrilling.

7.  COUNT YOUR PITCHES
While I do encourage you to repeat things you’ve said or played night to night when they work and the audience responds well…  I will also say if you are going to do this well, there are a few things you should keep in a notebook about each gig to make sure it all remains new to the audience.  (You DO keep notes, right?) 

In baseball, pitchers and catchers mentally keep track of what each opposing batter does each time they are at the plate.  That is why with each new at bat it becomes increasingly more difficult for batters to hit well.  The catcher knows before a batter even comes up to bat if they pull the ball, if they are fast enough to bunt for a base hit – essentially what worked on the batter.  And they also consider where the batter is in the lineup (1, 3, 5 or 7) to anticipate how their manager thinks they are best capable of contributing.  But pitchers also know that if they throw the same sucker pitch every at bat, the batter gets wise.  (and bored)

Performing is no different.  For all of the shows you play, mentally, in your iPhone notes or on paper, keep track of…

• who else was on the bill with you
• who you brought for accompaniment
• what your setlist was
• which major stories you told
• what press/radio/media attended

That way you can always look back at what you did, how the audience responded to it, etc, to help you avoid any repeat performances.  Groupies who follow you in their car from DC to Philly to NYC won’t mind hearing the same stories in all three shows.  But if they hear them again six months later, they’re gonna start thinking you don’t have enough material to keep the show fresh.

8.  INTRODUCE YOUR BAND
Pretty simple.  Don’t forget to tell people who those talented instrumentalists and backup vocalists are.  And try not to wait until the end of the night to do this.  All of the people on stage with you are an integral part of your presentation.  Especially in small rooms.  If the audience feels connected to the players at your sides and to you, they will have that much more of a meaningful experience.  So you figure out how you want to do it.  Some people play one song with the whole band and introduce them right up front as a sort of - “here’s who’s up here with us tonight…”  This is usually done if the side players also have vocal mics and are likely to talk.  (It’s always awkward when someone talks on stage who has not been introduced yet.)  Some people introduce one at a time after they have a solo on different songs – the jazz way of doing it.  You will find what works best for you and your band.

9.  THANK PEOPLE
Before your last song, if you haven’t done so already, thank the audience, the venue/presenter, any media or press who supported the show, and don’t forget the volunteers, wait staff and engineer/sound person.  This is a business in which many people work very hard for very little pay.  And they do it for music – and for you.  And if you want to come back to the room, and continue to build in that market, these are people you need on your side for years to come.  You’d be surprised – this type of goodwill goes a long way. 

10.  OH GOD THE ENCORE
Don’t assume you are going to have an encore. 
Don’t play two or three songs in an encore. 
And for god’s sake get the hell off the stage and fully out of sight.

Wait for the audience to express a desire for you to play an encore before going back out there.  I don’t care how small the club is or how long it will take you to get off stage and back on again, or if there is no back stage and you have to go outside on the street to make your departure.  If you don’t leave the room, it’s not an encore.  It’s just another song you tacked on because you felt like it. 

There’s nothing worse than an artist playing an encore when all you want to do is get on the train or in your car and go home.  I know everybody does it, but don’t be that way, too.  It’s ungrateful, it’s self-absorbed, it looks bad, and it is evidence that you do not care what your audience is thinking, or even know what an encore is.

An encore is when you play an additional number because the audience demands it.  Please do not take that lightly.

An encore is one song.  The word encore means “again” not “again and again.”  If your audience calls you back 3 times, I’m fine with that – play three songs.  But make them call you back.  Don’t just get up there and play three more songs.  Nobody asked you to do that.

At the risk of sounding like Col. Tom Parker, who never let Elvis do encores because he wanted the audience to always leave wanting more, I do not think every show should have an encore.  In fact, I think very few shows should have an encore.  Encores should be special things – given as gifts to special audiences – after a particularly special night.  They should only happen when the audience has been so moved that they are either brought to their feet or rendered immobile in their seats and refuse to leave.

I once witnessed Ani Difranco remain off stage for 15 minutes before returning for an encore.  In that time, the audience went wild.  They quite simply did not want the night to be over.  They clapped, they yelled, they banged on the floor and their chairs.  As a member of the audience, you got the sense that Ani came back out so as to stop the people in the far aisles who had started hitting their hands on the newly and expensively renovated walls of the old Somerville Theater for fear it might actually fall to pieces.  But let me tell you, that is an encore I REMEMBER.  And I thought that night, yeah that’s the way it should be done.

Now that said, I know this will change your set list…

Many people save their fans’ favorite song(s) for the encore.  So you have a decision to make.  You are either okay if you don’t get to play it or not.  If you are not, then it means you use something else for your encore.  But another thing to remember is, if you get a reputation for not always doing encores, and you also give audiences an idea of the song you play in your encore and they know they didn’t hear it – it may be another way you can court your audience to engage and become a more vocal, responsive part of the show.

When an audience performs

The good, bad, ugly, and amazing things audiences do…

I have been managing musicians for ~ten years. Not long in the management world, but long enough to go to probably eight hundred shows. And when you are the manager at a show, you are watching the audience as much as the artist. Who’s smiling. Who’s laughing. Who’s bored. The heads that are nodding. The toes that are tapping. The two or three people who’s reactions can influence the other concert goers. And sometimes, the eery silence and still of awe.

On very special nights, the audience performs just as much as the people on stage. The best performers invite this engagement and know how to shape it into magical nights of memory.

As a musician, it can be scary when the audience invites itself into your show, and really it is all in how you handle them that makes the difference. So first we’ll talk about some of the ways musicians have handled poorly behaving audiences, but if you read on long enough, we’ll also get to stories of a few of the shows painted by a magic that only engaged and interacting audiences could have created.

BUSKING
While listening to a busking musician once, I watched a child walk up between songs and drag his sticky fingers across the strings of her guitar. Astonished, I watched as the child proceeded to strum strum strum and the mother did nothing to stop this intrusion on the subway performer’s personal space and property. As if the act of performing converted her to public property. The imaginary bubble around the performer was not only severed, but the instrument of the songwriter’s great work was being handled so carelessly. It seemed like a great assault to me. But the initial alarm passed from the performer’s eyes when she realized it was a child doing this, and she immediately distracted the child by playing a song – at which the child resumed his seat on the bench beside her – and just like that the problem was solved. The show went on. As a manager, I learned that an artist can handle just about any situation, provided they prepare themselves for inevitable things that will occur because people will be people – and provided they keep their cool.

AHA LEARNING: The best reactions to audience assault come from artists keeping their cool. Even if the artist still determines to admonish or complain – if they do so thoughtfully, it can have desired effect.

TALKING PEOPLE
In the movies, invariably you will see the scene of the opener desperately struggling with the rowdy people in the bar. Screaming and laughing and fighting and doing everything but listen to the artist. They came to this bar to see the band, for sure – but they came to see the band because they always have a good time when they do. And sometimes the good time gets loud.

While most of the things in movies aren’t exactly as they really occur in life, it is true that there is no shortage in the world of rowdy bars with stages in the back. As a hard-working touring musician, sometimes you will know you are walking into one of these gigs, and sometimes they will take you by surprise. Either way, you will have nights you can stand it and nights you can’t. Nights when you feel the audience is creating a unique, fun flowing, rowdy vibe that you are totally in the mood for, and nights when it just feels like one hour-long battle with the din of laughter, 75 people pretending to whisper, the poorly timed whoosh of the espresso maker, and even the clinking glasses start to irk you.

I have seen musicians handle this many ways. Some focus their attention on the people who are listening – who drove an hour or two to be at the show – who are equally annoyed by the rowdy folks – and who are most impressed by the grace and composure the artist maintains. Other artists completely lose it, and tell people off – a tactic I have seen have variable results. I find it particularly interesting that I have seen the same tactic backfire for one artist and work wonders for another – which I will share in brief…

In 1994, Natalie Merchant performed a mostly seated concert at Tufts University. While most of the students were quiet, there was a gaggle of latecomers in the back of the room who were talking. The noise annoyed Merchant, and she also read the room anticipating that it was annoying the audience members who were enjoying the show as well. Unfortunately, she misread the room. She was surprisingly abrupt and shouted at the students to “shut the f!@# up” – an action which backfired in the end. Not only did she disrupt the positive vibe she had created at the concert, but also for several years the campus was a buzz about how she couldn’t handle a few hecklers. Her outburst did not seem cool, but rather disappointing to previously loyal fans. Also unfortunate for acoustic music lovers on campus, the incident led the concert board at the university to withold from booking similar shows for several years.

It’s just not cool to tell off your audience outright like that. There are ways to do it, but “shut the f!@# up” is rarely effective.

Interestingly enough, in 2008 I was amused to witness another musician employ nearly the same tactic in a bar not two miles from where the Merchant played, to completely the opposite response. The bar was packed with people who came down to see this artist perform, but as described earlier, sometimes fun gets loud in small venues, and people started to chat. This time, the artist had invited guests to join her on stage. So before one of her guests started to play a song, she told the audience to “Oh please shut up. I don't care if you talk thru my set, but I really want to hear her - and if I can't hear, neither can you."

Somehow the audience seemed actually relieved to be scolded. Was it something to do with this artists’ personality? This artist is edgier than Merchant in character. The age of the fans? The second audience was college age and older. The fact that it was a request on someone else's behalf and not her own? Expectations? She’s not on a major record label. Changing times? Almost 15 years in social/cultural change have passed.

Any of these things could explain why one audience would be hurt and pissed off by an artist taking this approach, while another became more endeared than ever before.

AHA LEARNING: There is no right answer to the situation you are in. Only your answer. The one that is true to who you are. In that space. In that time. With that audience. Every night is different. You are the best judge of the room. The more you train yourself to pick up on signs of the group psychology of the particular room you are in, the easier you will find it to maintain casual control over the “vibe” and hence experience your audience is having at your show.

PHYSICAL NEEDS -or- NEEDING TO BARF
If you tour heavily to support your career and build audience in many regions, inevitably you are going to get sick. One of the most difficult decisions a musician must make in these times is whether to tough it out and play the show or cancel. In general, cancelling dates is frowned upon - there really is a "show must go on" in the entertainment business. But it's up to you to know your boundaries and what you are capable of doing. The one thing I would say, is that you probably are capable of doing more than you think. The body and adrenaline is a powerful thing. Just keep yourself in check and make sure you are doing what's right for you.
As you build experience on the road, you will get a lot better at telling when you are well enough to still perform or when you really shouldn't go out there. Namely, whether you are going to still be able to give a good show - or whether you will risk all the good people who bought tickets coming out again to see you in the future. You will also get better at telling whether you should keep your maladie to yourself or let others know.

Some of the coolest venues have no green room, no bathroom, nothing but old beams, a sound system, a grateful and eager audience, and plenty of cookies and character.

On one such evening, a songwriter I know was waiting in the wings to take the stage. While the presenter made announcements and began to introduce her, the songwriter faced the unfortunate reality that the food allergy she was experiencing was not going to give her an hour and fifteen minutes of peace to perform. She surveyed the scene around her. This venue was situated on a hill, and had no green room or restroom nearby - so she would literally have to get in her car and drive down to the house below if she needed to "have a moment" to compose herself. She had a decision to make: take the stage and quite possibly barf right there in front of the audience; or excuse herself and make the trek back down the mountain to “base camp” where she could visit a restroom. After her name was announced, as the audience sat anticipating her appearance, they all heard her van start up and drive off down the road. Five minutes later, she appeared, explained the situation with humor, and endeavored to play a brilliant show – which endeared the audience even more.

I witnessed a related moment at a Beck acoustic show one night at Sanders Theater in Cambridge MA. The pre-show meal had not arrived on time, and Beck had to proceed on stage hungry. He performed his first few songs without a mention, and then just gave up on discretion and let us all know that he was really hungry. Would we mind if he had some dinner? Well it was absolutely hilarious. At first. He ran down to the green room (which I knew was not very near the stage) as the audience sat and waited. He returned with a full plate of some sort of noodle dish, spaghetti or something kindred. He ate the entire noodle dish right there on stage while we all watched.

My only critical thought about this move, is to keep things like this short and sweet. There is a point at which the surprise and delight of something unusual like this happening turns into taking advantage of the performer/audience relationship. And audiences don't like that. In other words, the first half of the plate was funny, unusual and entertaining - but there came a point where this went on so long that we all wondered why we paid good money to watch Beck eat. The good news (for him) was that half of his audience had the munchies too, so they understood and went along. I'm pretty sure I was an outlier. The fella sitting in front of me just laid down across the seats and took a nap, waiting for the show to resume. Wouldn't work for everyone, but it seemed to work for Beck that night...

AHA LEARNING: Have courage that your fans are there because they really DO want to like the show, and because they like you. If you tell the audience what is going on, where you want them to go, they will follow you lead in the journey you are taking them on. They are there with you, not against you - your job is to keep them with you. Sometimes the things that seem unspeakable to you are what actually make the audience feel like the night is special. Remember – people do not come to a live show to hear you play like your record. They come because they want more insight, the live experience, and because live is unique, spontaneous and never repeated again. The best shows make the audience feel like they have participated in a one-time event.

THE UNEXPECTED PLAYER
There are some things as a performer that you will do on the spot, but you would never say you would do it if someone asked you before the show. One of the most transcendant moments I have personally witnessed during a show was so cool that some folks at the merch table and on message boards after the show speculated that an audience member may have been planted.

Susan Werner did a tour to support a new release called "Classics" in which she rearranged pop songs from the 1960s and 70s for strings, and incorporated well-known classical pieces within the songs. During these shows, there was usually a segment of the night where she would open up a discussion about classical music. The classical cellist she hired for the tour, Julia Biber, would pull a microphone over and Werner and Biber would discuss classical music, culture, fans and instrumentalists. And in a tongue in cheek sort of way, teach the audience a few things they may or may not know about the classical genre.

For people who don't listen to classical music much, it was fun and made classical music approachable for folks who don't always listen to it. During these sections of the show, Werner was always watching for Classical music fans in the audience, on the lookout for reactions. One audience member in Cambridge MA must have appeared particularly pained, because after this section of the show, Werner called out to her asking if they'd totally tramped all over the Classical genre.

"Are you a classical musician?" And the woman replied shyly that indeed she was.

"Are you a cellist?" Nooo.

"Strings?" Nooo.

"Ohhhh.... You are a pianist..." The inflection in Werner's voice, herself a pianist, in a moment of friendly competition, was palpable.

Werner went for it.

After much prodding, Werner enticed the audience member to come up on stage and play something. The audience hushed, afraid of what might happen. What if this person was awful? What if she couldn't play at all?

But she wasn't awful, of course. She was brilliant. And we were all treated to 3 minutes of classical in one of the oldest and most legendary folk listening rooms in the country. Because Werner had the guts and confidence to let this audience member run away with the show for a moment, we all had the feeling we had seen something that nobody else could see - we participated in a special moment of time. A moment to tell other people about.

And Susan accomplished her goal - of making Classical music palatable and enjoyable to people who don't usually listen to it. And presenting the notion that more people play Classical music than most people realize. Even in our own hometown. Everywhere we go, people know how to play instruments - some very very well.

AHA LEARNING: Take risks. Believe in your audience. They will surprise you as much as you surprise them.

Things to think about when opening a show

One of the many things a new, unknown artist does to get in front of audiences is open shows for already established acts. While opening’s effectiveness at building your draw is debatable, and often varies from city to city and venue to venue, it is invariably something you will do not just at the beginning of your career but throughout. So it’s worthwhile to think thru how you approach opening shows, and evaluate how you are doing at it.

Openers are sometimes called “support” or “guest” in terms of how you are billed at any given venue, and sometimes the terminology differs based on how advanced or well known you are – or frankly, arbitrarily. Whatever you call it, generally it translates to be a 25-30 minute or 4 or 5 song set at the beginning of someone else’s show. After the audience has seated (for the most part) and is quiet (hopefully).

You might come to open a show because the venue took a shine to you and asked for the headliner’s approval for you to support. Or maybe the headliner took a shine to you and asked for the venue’s approval. An agent booking a tour may have asked the artist and venue to approve. Heck, some opening spots are even won by participating in song competitions. Knowing how you got there is kinda important – as it informs WHO YOU SHOULD REMEMBER TO THANK. It also informs the likelihood of your ability to secure other dates on the same tour if you ask for them.

However you got there, once you get the gig, you’ve got to stop thinking about how cool you are for having gotten the gig and start thinking about how to do it well – and what you want to gain from the experience.

Many inexperienced artists think opening is all about seizing your 25 minutes of fame, and that’s it. These artists are absorbed in their own desires to move up the ladder, and to be able to say they opened for so-and-so, or played at such-and-such venue. They confine the extent of thinking about the gig to which songs to sing and where to celebrate after with their friends who come see them shine.

Here’s the thing – opening is an important part of your job. It’s as close to apprenticeship as you can come. And there aren’t many professions out there that still have apprenticeships. So take advantage! Watch that headliner, learn. Ask questions (without being annoying).

Here are some quick dos and donts when opening:

1. THANK PEOPLE
   DO express your appreciation for being offered the opportunity to open – and if you are a fan of the artist you are opening for, don’t be too proud to say so. The people you are singing to in the audience are coming there as fans, too, so they will understand the feeling and it may endear you to them. But if you don’t know the headliner’s music, don’t lie. Thank the person who got you the gig, whether or not they are in the room. Chances are your appreciation will get back to them.
   
2. KNOW THE TIME, DON’T ASK PEOPLE TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH TIME YOU HAVE, AND DON’T YOU DARE GO OVER
   DO bring some sort of time measuring implement – either affix a watch to the mic stand or your tuner or know where there’s a clock in the room that you can see, preferably without the audience being able to detect that you are peeking. I have seen some musicians wear watches backwards on their wrist, so they can see the time when they look down at their guitar frets. Know precisely how long it usually takes you to play your songs, and whenever possible actually take LESS time than you are offered. If the headliner is gracious enough to give you 45 minutes take 35; if they give you 30 minutes take 25; if they give you 25 you probably do need that full time. But if you get to ~17 minutes and are picking between one or two more songs, just play one. In fact, whenever in doubt about time, just play one more song not two. Headliners will never fault you for going short. They will think you’re a pro if you get on and off the stage quickly, and if you They will be more likely to ask you to open for them again if you don’t eat into their set or make their show go late. It’s very important that you get good at this.
   
3. ONE INSTRUMENT, TWO TUNINGS TOPS
   (unless your whole schtick is multiple instruments)
   I’ve known many songwriters who use non-standard tunings in many songs – and when they headline they often do need to use multiple instruments to cut down the amount of time they spend tuning on stage. Unless you are opening on a major tour in which there are stage hands to help, and it is clearly acceptable for you to travel with more than one instrument, don’t. You should have 5 songs in similar enough tuning that you can avoid instrument changes and excessive tuning that takes up your already short time with the audience. Keep as much of your focus on the audience as you can, and they will stay focused on you. If you start tuning up and tuning down, they’ll start tuning out. Think thru tunings when you are figuring out your set list with this in mind. And in general, stay out of the way of the headliner’s setup – don’t move your things after soundcheck.
   
4. KNOW WHAT SONGS YOU ARE GOING TO PLAY
   For god’s sake. Make a set list and stick to it. When you make your set list, think about how long the songs are, what tuning they are in, and especially choose songs that you think represent any kinship you might have to the headliner that would entice their fans to also like you.
   
5. START WITH A SONG THAT LET’S YOU WARM UP
   This actually goes for your own full length shows, too. Your first song, whenever possible, should be one that has a hook and “sounds like you” – but also consider your vocal range, and how much you need to warm up before singing it. Some musicians like to start with a song that crosses their vocal range because they warm up best that way. Some like to start with a song that they could nail in their sleep, without any warm up (tho you SHOULD warm up). As it gives them a chance to get a sense of the room and relax into the set.
   
6. TALK BUT DON’T TALK TOO MUCH
   People want to hear your songs. Mostly. Definitely let your personality come across, but make sure you do not lose a precious song by talking too long. You don’t have to tell them everything about yourself on the first date. If you leave them wanting more, they will have plenty of time to get to know you.
   
7. BE THERE FOR THE HEADLINER’S SOUNDCHECK IF THEY ALLOW YOU
   Some headliners like privacy during soundcheck. So you don’t have to ask permission (unless it seems natural to do so – as in you’re talking with the headliner before they go check), but if they ask you to leave don’t feel rejected or offended. It’s just one of those things. Some people like everyone to be out of the hall when they soundcheck. But definitely try to slink off in a corner and watch not only how the artist describes what they want in terms of sound, but also the tricks the sound engineers implement to handle different things, and train your ears to hear what happens when the engineer responds to the requests of the artist and/or their road manager. You’ll learn quickly what frequencies are, what low end, high end, mids and reverb is. You’ll learn that some people like a lot of themselves in the monitor, a lot of instrument or vocal – and hearing these preferences will help you understand what you like. You’ll also learn what rooms have engineers that are amazing pros, and what venues have engineers who are still learning themselves. You’ll see what type of direction engineers like and don’t like. And you may even build rapport with engineers by asking questions about how things they did work, after the soundcheck is over. (Don’t get in the way! That’s a sure way to get asked to leave.)
   
8. STAY FOR THE HEADLINER’S SET
   Drinking with your buddies or hanging out in the green room or having a long drive ahead of you are not good excuses to leave the show before it is over. Not only does it make the headliner think you are not serious, but it also makes the club manager settle up specially for you (which means you’re high maintenance) and it just makes it obvious that you don’t know what it means or why a person opens shows. Watching various headliner’s shows is the way you learn to create your own show. You can watch what the audience reacts to, what they don’t react to – and most importantly the difference between a quiet audience that is enthralled and a quiet audience that is bored. You can see what tricks of the trade headliners have picked up over the years, and decide which of these might be helpful to you – and which don’t feel authentic to you. Like in grammar and most things, it’s always best to know the rules in order to break them.
   
9. BE GRACEFUL WHEN YOU’RE GIVEN ADVICE, EVEN IF YOU ALREADY KNOW IT’S WRONG
   Sometimes the advice you get when you are opening will feel wrong. You’ll know it in your gut. It’s offered with your best interest in mind. But it just doesn’t feel like something right for you. No matter. Right when that defensive voice rises in you, just remember it’s a small world and it’s ok to beg to differ but best to just say thank you you’ll consider that and move on. Could be that advice will never come in handy. Or could be that advice just isn’t right for you right in that moment. Sometimes advice that doesn’t apply to you now will become useful to you 5, 10, 20 or even 30 years later.
   
10. OBSERVE GREEN ROOM ETIQUETTE
    Okay, here’s the deal. You have to be very perceptive, and be confident but courteous. At some venues, you will have your own green room or dressing room area. But most venues has only one green room, so you will be sharing with the headliner. Do not mouse around like you don’t belong there, or feel like you have to kiss ass. You are performing that night, so it is totally reasonable for you to expect that you can be in the green room and that the provisions of the green room will be made available to you. However, the way you carry yourself and level of professionalism you profess will go a long way. Oftentimes it can be the thing that a headliner remembers about you. And what you remember about the headliner. SO, don’t be afraid to eat the fruit, but if there’s opportunity, definitely ask permission or make sure there’s no reason you shouldn’t. If the artist and/or their band are drinking alcohol, then that is an indicator that it is ok to do the same. But if you really want to be a professional, you will do so very subtly. You should by NO means use recreational drugs or other substances that produce scents or evidence in the green room unless the headliner literally hands you the joint. And I really don’t think they will. If they DO offer you a smoke, and you don’t smoke, you should feel totally comfortable saying NO. Really. Just be yourself. In general, it’s always best to have your beer after your set. Focus on your performance. If the headliner is running through songs with their band, and everyone stops when you come in, just casually ask “ok to be in here, or do y’all need alone time?” Most headliners generally hang from soundcheck to showtime – might take a nap – and if they’ve been doing this a long time and they want you out, they will not hesitate to tell you so. In general, follow the way of the indigenous people to that green room. :)

Things to consider when trying to book/secure opening slots…

EVENING WITH
Important terminology for you to know, when trolling calendars looking for gigs you might open on venue calendars, is if you see “Evening with” before the headliner’s name, it generally means that the show was intentionally booked with no opener. So it’s probably not worth inquiring about those ones. Just annoys the venue if you ask about gigs that are clearly marked to not have support.

HEADLINER’S PERSPECTIVE
Headliners like to support artists they know. So it’s important that you not take it personally if a headliner doesn’t approve you right away, especially if they haven’t heard of you or your music before. Give them time to let them get to know you and your music (and hear about you through the rumor mill about who rocks). You have to remember – the headliner is giving you 30 minutes with their hard earned audience. For your purposes, imagine they are giving you 30 minutes with their mother. Don’t be offended if they say no – but be honored if they say yes. And be especially honored if they talk about you during their set – that’s the type of endorsement you really want. Sometimes that can go just as far as you up there playing when it comes to folks visiting the merch table at intermission or after the show.

Most importantly, HAVE FUN and BE INSPIRED!!

On being who you are...

"Stage presence" doesn't mean be someone else for 60 minutes....

Or does it?

If you are a touring musician, you will find no shortage of advice for how to perform. Out there on the road, there are people who will try to tell you how to be. Fans, presenters, your mom…

Some of the advice you receive you should listen to as openly as you can muster, and some you should hear but politely disregard. Sometimes, they’ll tell their priceless advice to your road manager or agent or manager, and that person will hopefully practice good judgment to determine if the information will be vital/helpful, or a distraction from what really matters in getting you on your way.

If you're out there toughing it on your own, try to be open to what people have to say - but also remember that criticism is subjective. While everyone’s a critic, only you will be able to ascertain when criticism should be considered and acted upon. When something is worth internalizing as something to grow on, and when it is coming of that person's own issues and concerns and may not be universal.

Remember the audience.

I tend to find one of the best guides to hold criticism up to is Joe The Audience member. (Joe The Plumber joke intended) But seriously, take what a person said to you and try to imagine three other audience members saying it to you or to one of their friends. If the advice still sounds realistic coming out of their mouths, in your imagination, then it is probably worth thinking about more. If the advice is so subjective that you can’t imagine it coming from another audience member in that or any other room, then take it with a grain of salt and stay your course.

Self-awareness, experience and confidence are a huge part of your development path...

As a performer, and as a person, you live somewhere on a Kinsey-like scale of your own confidence level in what you do on stage, not to mention your confidence level in who you are – on and off the stage. Over time, as you grow, the way you feel about this will change. It’s different for everybody, but above all, don’t feel like you have to have a fixed opinion and stick with it. Your relationship with yourself as a performer WILL inevitably change the more you learn.

Chances are, right now, you can either handle talking about your “show” directly, or to you thinking and talking about how you behave on stage intimidates you. You might feel it undermines "the magic" for you and discussing it only makes it harder for you to navigate. Because of your character, or because of where you happen to be in your own development of self-awareness as a performer and a person, just have patience with yourself.

All of these things take time, openness and practice.

It doesn’t matter what type of person you are, or where you are in this development process. But it does matter that you recognize and accept the way you are – at any given point in time. Where you are in development may greatly change the type of people you should look to work with, what communication styles will work best with you, and what you expect and what you need from them in way of support. How direct or nuanced they should be when they communicate with you about these topics. Whether they should push you or let you be.

Who are you on stage?

Or the real question first is… Who are you?

There’s an ongoing debate I’ve had with various musicians I have worked with over the years. And there may or may not be a right answer - but it is a fruitful debate and one you should consider for yourself. It is the debate over whether or not the person on the stage and at the merch table at shows is the same person who gets into bed at night back at home.

Is the person who performs and peddles the music the same person who lives the daily life of the musician? And if those people are separate, then who writes the music?

Some musicians claim they protect themselves a little when they perform, by placing an intangible layer of distance between the character they play at shows and the unedited person they are at home. They do develop a character that is based on who they really are – they just play up the elements of their personality they figure the fans most admire, the elements that make them feel best able to perform, and they keep some of the other, more vulnerable, complex, or even objectionable parts of who they are for home and personal use only. For people inclined to work this way, having that differentiation helps them plan and play their shows, helps them know how to "be" in interviews, helps them know what personality to channel and portray when fatigue and road wear make them really just want to be on a couch watching TV somewhere. Musicians in this school of thought claim doing it this way not only creates a buffer so they feel like they still have retained part of themselves that is private, but they also say it helps them maintain the energy level that is required for a life on the road.

Now on the other hand...

Other musicians find the creation of a “stage persona” to be exhausting – like keeping up a series of fibs and not being sure how to remember all the things they’ve said in order to keep up a lie. They prefer to be entirely themselves on stage – and contend that their fans really want that person anyway. Otherwise, why would they come out to shows? This approach to celebrity is certainly in part in response to the 24 hour news cycle and the way social media and other forms of instantly updates sources have created a new era in fandom - the papparazzi-like masses. In a world with instant media, it can be hard to keep up any sort of persona. And so, artists in this camp tend to believe the best thing they can do is be their authentic selves - and hope that is good enough to be adored. That in any flaws or misunderstood moments will be an element of truth that the fans will trust in a way that they can't trust the constant performer.

On face value, if asked, most people would say truth is best. It is considered better to be honest than to lie. It is considered better to be the real thing than to be a fake.

Right?

We all want to think that who we really are is good enough for people to love. And in our private space, that is absolutely true. But what about when we turn our personality out to the public?

Welcome to the mixed message that is consumer response!

I once heard an agent say:
“The audience wants you to be real, but not TOO real.”

What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?

When you’re just being you, trying to do your thing, how do you know if you’re being real or too real? People don’t work that way… A musician can’t be constantly analyzing how they are being. Then nothing will be real. And everyone will get all caught up inside their heads, unable to create, perform or drive to the next gig.

A manager once pulled me aside at SXSW and asked my opinion of his artist’s showcase performance, “Do you think she’s being too cutesy? Like, not grown up enough?”

He seemed almost scared – as if cute was the kiss of death. Tho I’m not sure if he was scared she was not grown up or scared she was pretending to not be grown up or scared people wouldn’t like cute. I tried not to BARF at the sexist inclination of his observation and focus on the question he was asking for my comment on. To me, it just seemed like she was behaving as the creative, theatrical performer she is – which in my opinion is what is so special about her – to fans and industry folks alike. I told him so, but have no idea what he did or didn’t say to the artist. Ugh... What did he say to the artist? (Yet another future entry topic – how business people navigate communication with creative people.)

Every artist navigates the extent their public persona matches their “at home” persona in their own time, in their own way.

You will find your balance point of accessibility with the audience while still enjoying some level of personal comfort zone. If you are an indeed an artist who thrives in live performance, and keeps your show fresh and new for the audience over time, you will likely revisit your boundaries on this front many times over the years in different cities and environments.

Wall Street versus Art Street

One of the most challenging things about a life in music is the inevitable and perpetual need to navigate the delicate balance between business and personal. Between music being your job and music being your love. The need to pay the rent versus the need to do what you love and believe in. The desire to have long term financial and life plans versus the ongoing challenges of paying for gas, paying the band, feeding the band, airplane tickets, the fee for a one way drop rental car, and that unexpected speeding ticket just trying to get home from the gig.

All of the noise and clutter the daily debate creates can make it hard to see the tree for the forest. And when you finally get a moment with your friends, who love you, all you want to do is be safe from all the decisions and worry. But then you are faced with the question of whether and how to tour with them. Because as much as you try to avoid it, inevitably y’all get to talking shop…

Music is a life that breeds collaboration, in fact, screams for it and needs it. People in a room making sounds that move us, inspire us. cheer us, worry us, and ultimately bring us together. In your fellow musicians and songwriters you find inspiration, and you inspire. All of the greatest periods of creativity in human history were also times, coincidentally or not, when the greatest artisans of the time collaborated and competed in ways that compelled them even further in their craft.

Communities of songwriters thrive in cities from Seattle to Atlanta, Austin to Boston – and that’s just the USA. Here in Massachusetts, we have a wealth of songwriters who know and admire one another, and often work together here or on the road. Some come here chasing the heritage of Cambridge, because of the world-changing folksongs that were bred here. They tirelessly labor after a new sound, a new Cambridge – retaining the truth and courage they find in being in the town where Joan Baez and Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell and others collaborated. Some are after the community that has been nurtured here. Because you really can go into a handful of small joints in Cambridge on any given weeknight and find some of the nation’s best players, songwriters and collaborators playing together. It’s like a Harlem renaissance of honest music. I’m pretty sure it’s what people think they will find if they go visit Nashville, but little do they know they would find it if they just wandered the streets of Porter or Harvard or Inman Squares on the average Thursday night.

So, with all this community comes Collaboration.

And of course it’s fun cousin Competition.

As you grow and build, you may silently feel disappointed in yourself to find that you start to think… Your friends are competitors. And your competitors are friends. And you hate that – about the business of making music, and the fact that you even think about it. But it’s true nevertheless.

As you realize this, you determine you are part of a finite ecosystem. And the choices you make about where you tour, who you tour with, how you promote, who you align with – all seem to impact your path and plight in the ecosystem. And you then begin to navigate for yourself the things you value most, and the balance you keep between driving your music career forward and remaining true to your community of fellow artisans – who are all also making their own choices of priority.

So when the beast of business rears its head in the middle of your song circle, what should you do?

Should you feel guilty and ashamed when someone you personally love and admire asks you to play shows with them and you don’t know what to say? Should you pray at the altar of Woody Guthrie and the gods of hootenannies that you won’t be punished for immediately thinking about the fact that your friend is unlikely to sell tickets?

We like to pin business on the big labels, the old ways, and the bad guys. We assign business the archetypes of evil things – money, greed, ambition, maneuvering, distrust. And we assign craft the archetypes of good – virtue, honesty, purity, meaning, worth, sacrifice, giving. It may seem a clear black-and-white ethical debate, but real life is so much grayer.

Well let’s see, what do you do?

You can get a manager, agent or other business partner, and assign them the task of being “the heavy.” They look out for your best interests and by nature of their job description. They keep you on a business path while you keep you fight for artistic integrity. Ahh the lovely friction.

You can piss off all your friends, tell them they aren’t as cool as you, and travel thousands of miles with strangers for five years, only to find out that your friends are the people who are still in the business ten years later and you really wish you’d done more with them when you started out in the first place.

Or, you can take these things as they come to you. Make these decisions and navigate on a case by case basis. Stumble sometimes, apologize sometimes, and be relieved you did. You just gotta find your own way to be honest with your friends about your goals, and honest with yourself about what you may need to do (or not do as the case may be) in order to achieve them.

The best thing you can do for yourself is get a plan. If you have a plan, then making decisions like these becomes a lot easier. Even if the plan changes. And changes often. Get a plan.

Oh, that means I’m gonna have to write an entry about how to get a plan, doesn’t it? Hmm… Okay…

Gig swap rules of the road

Don’t just swap. Swap smart.

THE DOs and DON’Ts of GIG SWAPPING…

1. Don’t swap with someone whose music you don’t like. It’s not a very nice thing to do to your audience.
   
2. Don’t swap gigs with people who have the same fans you do. As in IDENTICALLY the same people who came to their gig last night came to your gig last week. Or even 50% crossover fans. It defeats the purpose. Mix it up a bit. Swap with people who are kindred but not the same.
   
3. Swap gigs with people who are strong in markets you actively WANT to pursue (as in, don’t just go there because it’s a gig and you didn’t have to book it yourself). Think carefully about what markets/venues you want to build in 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, 2 years. And be realistic about what you think you can achieve, so you select the right gigs to get there.
   
4. If someone offers you their hometown, try to give them your hometown or a market where you can draw what is the equivalent of what they are offering you – it’s only fair. Especially if their hometown is difficult to gain audience in.
   
5. If you take a gig with someone now with the promise of a future gig with you later down the road, don’t forget and let the gig never happen. That’s rude. Even if it never seems to work out, at least follow up for a while to make sure you’ve tried to make good on the deal. People don’t like jerks.
   
6. Seriously, I meant what I said in rule #1. I don’t care how polite you are, how much you like the artist personally, or how desperately you need a gig in that market. Don’t do it. Afterall, chances are their fans won’t be people you’re gonna want to return to in 6 months anyway. And you’ll be kicking yourself when you drive 5 hours to get to the gig and play miserably because your ears hurt.

I’m sure there are others, and I will add as they come to me…

What is a manager?

The business school answer:
It depends.

The Monkey's answer:
It's not what everyone makes it out to be, but that's not such a bad thing...

I read it in a book somewhere...
Donald Passman does a decent job describing the official textbook role in his music biz book called "All You Need To Know About The Music Business." He suggests a young musician look for someone who's connected as a Business Manager and someone who's organized as a Personal Manager. He threw in something about trustworthy, won't steal from you, and ruthless negotiator for good measure. But even so, the whole thing still confuses the hell out of me, especially with how quickly the business of music has been turned upside down...

I mean, what does it mean to be connected in this day and age anyway?

It's not what everyone makes it out to be, but that's not such a bad thing...
The music manager of the future is not the proverbial rainmaker, as "Hit Men" manager lore and music industry magazines will have you think. It's not a buncha back slapping, hand shaking, and napkin back deal making anymore. Not that I've seen, anyway. The managers of tomorrow are professional, tech-savvy, entrepreneurial marketers. They generally know more about music and creativity than they let on. And they network of people they bring to the table is very different from managers of days gone by. They people they need to know are often unexpected.

There used to be unsurmountable barriers between indie musicians and mass marketing channels. And managers were in place to help scale those barriers.

It used to be an artist had to...
- sign their soul away to a deep-pocketed label,
- wheel and deal with a clunky distributor,
- nose their way onto a big booking agency roster,
- insert a catheter for a payola-pushing radio promoter,
- beg and plead for a percentage of sync from their vaguely (i mean vastly) networked publisher,
- play anywhere for anything just to get people to hear the music.

The artist rarely had a say about expenses, but was expected to recoup nevertheless. Reports were generated monthly (sometimes) by the label, distributor or manager. Figures sprayed across dot stipple-printed spreadsheets as if they actually came from real data sources, and yet somehow nobody ever audited the labels or distributors. Only the artists were audited. Cassette tapes grew on trees, but no matter how many albums sold somehow most were still returned to the distributor and/or destroyed.

Return? Destroy?

Young managers and artists think that is some kind of joke. Like, "I used to walk 5 miles to school uphill in the snow..." Really, it happened. Return. Destroy.

What about the future? No more returns. No more stocking fees. No more shelf position. No more wasted inventory. Essentially, no more mass market blanketed PUSH.

"Push" marketing is much easier than "pull" marketing because it's just basically throwing money and reach/frequency at artist development. New forms of pull marketing - digital and social media, and other of the most measurable forms of direct marketing - they all can get complicated. And that is why managers of the future must be marketers.

I find myself with every new client that comes to Market Monkeys pausing to ask, "What's my job again?" The answer always comes back in some form of why I got into this business in the first place...

My job is to get songs into the ears and artists into the lives of people who will love them. Every listener and every listen matters.

In order to understand what a new music industry manager does, it is important to understand what's changed so much to make new managers necessary. See the new manager in his/her natural habitat, if you will.

Okay, here's the part where I pontificate on the future of music. So if you're sick of that stuff, I highly recommend skipping to the manager's list of survival skills below...

The future of music is a smorgasbord of all things good and evil in the history of our great(ly troubled) industry. Mainstream music's Managers, Agents, Labels and Publishers will continue opportunistic ventures that stifle a great majority of our nation's talent, and elevate a small minority of artists/albums in initiatives that stimulate the top (but not the bottom) line. It is important to understand the economics of these ventures.

The music industry has historically been about cash flow, short-term gains, and revenue (top line)... NOT net income/profit (bottom line). The Internet boom in America did more than just rapidly develop a new technology to facilitate digital music distribution. New technology is created every day.

The dotcom boom of the late nineties did much more than just invent digital downloads for musicians, though most people don't recognize it. The Internet boom rattled personal, public, corporate, and governmental awareness of the importance of bottom line financial results in business. Somehow we had gotten fat and happy for a spell there, and we were dazzled by the big figures at the top of our Income Statements. It created a shiny diversion, keeping us distracted from the part of business that has something to do with profit. The dotcom boom and bust taught venture capitalists a lot about qualified investments and dissemination of capital risk. The growing national deficit is fixing to teach us this lesson even more so in the next 3-5 years, so pay attention to this. It affects you!

Why is this important?
Because the time has come for the music industry to learn these lessons, too! And what better time than when it's terribly hip in the business and financial world to do so? Record label execs are nothing if not fashionably dressed, party-going and gift-receiving venture capitalists. They have to start thinking, investing, and behaving like it. You can be sure as the likelihood of an American football stadium name changing in 1998 that the VCs are watching SG&A (Sales General and Administrative expenses) nowadays. Labels should, too. As should artists.

(What did she just say? Artists should look at SG&A?)

Musicians are the CEOs of their entrepreneurial ventures. Some are small, sustainable ventures. Some are large, risky, and ambitious. Some are combinations of these and other elements. Music careers are like snowflakes. Whatever the goals and scope of a musician's business venture, the path is difficult and MUST have a determined and committed artist CEO at the helm.

Musicians are no longer hired by the labels. They are hiring the labels - letting the labels in on the deal, and partnering with labels to assemble the best possible team to promote their music and their brands. Musicians hold the assets, and if they can manage to leverage themselves enough to take on the bulk of the risk, they will reap the bulk of reward. But to do this, it must be a conscious decision to take on risk. And don't forget that the words "manage to leverage themselves" includes the word "manage" - while it's more lucrative than the old way, it takes a lot of work. And for some musicians, this means learning skills they never knew they would need, just to keep owning their songs.

The musician must assemble a team that supports his/her business goals. He/she must have a mission, brand, product, packaging, pricing strategy, event planning, promotion, distribution, marketing, and if possible they must advertise. The team members a musician hires to help their venture soar must be chosen carefully for their relevant intellectual property, experience, relationships, goodwill, and most importantly for their strategic plans and ability to execute.

You heard me right. Musicians are CEOs.

So, just as labels will no longer hire musicians, managers will no longer push musicians and other industry players around. Really. Managers shouldn't even try. It's embarrassing...

The music manager can't get by just being good at wearing black, hanging out with lawyers, A/R people, DJs, and promoters, and throwing weight around anymore. They can't make a business pulling the wool over people's eyes with promises of grandeur followed by an intimate walk down an unlit back alley. Managers can't strongarm, snub, sweettalk, or charm their way to success. They can no longer make a living out of writing contracts that artists sign out of need for the cap feather manager. The artists write the contracts now. And the manager signs. (Well, maybe it's not that severe. But certainly, the artist and manager define the relationship together and at the end of the day it is in the manager's best interest to manage the artists' expectations along the way.)

Don't get me wrong. I am not saying Managers are obsolete or no longer helpful. I am just saying Managers are being held to new standards of performance. Managers, Labels and Musicians still have places in one another's lives - but as equal business partners with shared goals... Make and evangelize great music.

New managers have to be superheros in strength, stamina, passion, confidence, intuition, and intellect. In short, the modern day manager's gotta hussle.

Here are just the first twenty survival skills of new music managers that come to mind...

1. Representing the artist with pride, professionalism, and integrity at all times.
2. Understanding what the artist is trying to achieve, and sharing the same goals.
3. Being open about what they are personally/professionally trying to achieve - I mean, it's only fair, and a manager's interests can impact the recommendations they make to musicians
4. Boiling down brand strategy and messaging, so it's easy for everyone on the team to know what to say about the artist, the album, the tour, the article, the interview, the what-have-you...
5. Understanding the artist's target market and fanbase - both in demographics and in common personality traits/behavioral characteristics.
6. Project management and interpersonal skills to mobilize a full team of people (both hired and volunteer) with diverse expertise to execute a fully integrated marketing program - usually on a small budget, with severe time limits, and with people who are not accustomed to being "briefed" or "managed"
7. Over-communicating, over-planning, over-analyzing, and over-reporting (meaing doing it a lot, not to be confused with over-stating)
8. Utilizing ALL forms of communication, having a sense of, sensitivity to, and respect for the forms different people in the business prefer to utilize (i.e. Snail Mail, Phone, Fax, Email, Blackberry, iPhone, IM, Text Messaging, Facebook, etc.)
9. Constantly innovating - always being willing to try new tactics, trespass unchartered territories with confidence and patience, and encouraging the CEO to do the same.
10. Dynamically weighing the pros, cons, and priority level of every new initiative and adjusting strategy to remain current.
11. Not only prioritizing what projects are most important, but also constantly auditing the best use of his/her own time to be sure every effort has anticipated return (in fanbase growth, fan lifetime value, or relationship-building, if not in short term gains)
12. Valuing past learning. Just because the industry has changed does NOT mean that all learning from the "old guard" is obsolete. I can't imagine anything further from the truth. Afterall, the first vinyl record sales happened similar to the way Hear Music has sold CDs in recent years... Through unique in-store product placement and creative distribution tactics.
13. Honestly accepting responsibility for mistakes and/or failures - and actively seeking to learn from these events. Sometimes accepting responsibility for the artists' mistakes and/or failures - but only when it has been clearly and mutually decided that the manager will do so.
14. Reading people. Understanding their interests/intentions. Knowing when it's the right time to fight a battle, and how is the most advantageous way of approaching such a situation.
15. Ability to talk to the artist about anything, bring up subjects others are afraid to approach, and do so with tact and the interest of the music/artist in mind (just as a chief operating officer would with their CEO).
16. Respecting the expertise of other team members, especially hired experts. (Basically, the manager shouldn't BS when there's someone in the room who actually knows what the heck they're talking about.)
17. Listening, leading, learning, deligating, motivating, executing, and continuously planning.
18. Running the artist's web site like a B2C retail ecommerce sales engine - with prioritized profit channels, sales goals, acquisition cost targets, customer lifetime value knowlege, regular analytics reporting, and ongoing optimization to enhance user experience and conversion rate.
19. Insisting on measuring anything and everything measurable all the time everywhere, and unabashedly throwing tantrums whenever a musician balks at record-keeping tasks.
20. ... And when necessary, recognizing the human need to stop pushing for a moment, leading the team in a collective deep breath, and reminding the artist why they took this all on in the first place.

Happy Managing,
mc

P.S. An afterthought posted a couple days after the initial publication of this blog entry... I realize that I have usually provided outside reading suggestions in my previous entries. There's plenty of more reading on the subject of managers, past, present and future. Recently, a column written by Janis Ian for Performing Songwriter was brought to my attention - it's called "Managers and Messengers" and it's on her web site (www.janisian.com). While the column appears to be 10 years old, it's still relevant. It is a great study in mutual gains negotiations/relationships between musicians and managers. There are always things to take and leave, as with any article. Let's hope this trend continues, for the good of us all and the music!