Something Wal-Mart This Way Comes
I despise Wal-Mart. I also despise that they sell the brand of diapers my son uses cheaper than any other store, so I am forced in my constant state of financial burden to shop there.
While rushing my way through the store the other day I noticed a large display stand over by the mens’ clothing. It was a whole stand of shirts and CDs from AC/DC. Seriously, AC/DC is being peddled at Wal-Mart. A shiver went through me when my brain realized what I was looking at. Right next to the Wranglers jeans stands an AC/DC CD display at Wal-mart.
I wonder what Bon Scott would think of this blasphemy.
I heard through the Internet grapevine that the Australian rockers are selling this release EXCLUSIVELY through Wal-Mart. Apparently the Eagles did that with their “Long Road Out of Eden” release which went septuple-platinum.
In a time when we’re hearing about the recent successful trends of bands like Radiohead and Nine-Inch-Nails releasing their albums independent of labels via the Internet, AC/DC decided to limit themselves to one store chain. Not a very intelligent decision, I think. They’re only reaching a certain demographic and not reaching important consumers in New York and Los Angeles (who don’t have Wal-Mart).
Wal-Mart doesn’t sell CDs that have the “Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics” sticker on them. Rather than sell CDs that have this sticker, Wal-Mart forces the record labels to produce edited versions of CDs for sale in their stores. So we know that the Eagles and AC/DC aren’t throwing around any F bombs in their lyrics (not that they would anyway), but for being bands that have stood out over the last few decades you’d think they would want to be innovative and reach out to a younger, and maybe newer fan base by not handcuffing themselves to Wal-Mart for a guaranteed buck.
This kind of stuff hurts the music industry, especially in towns such as Vacaville where there is only one mom and pop record store because of the retail giants.
This financial sell-out isn’t just limited to music. I also found a rack of “Miami Ink” t-shirts. So, not only can you build your rock-n-roll personae with a whole lot of edited CDs, but you can buy your trendy tattoo style koi or skull shirt, trucker hat and tight girl pants there, as well. All for under $20 I’m sure.
Every time you buy a CD at Wal-Mart a rock-n-roll angel loses their wings.
The Girlfriend Factor
Girlfriends and bands mix like oil and water. Depending on the type of girlfriend, they tend to not be soluble.
I am at a disadvantage with being romantically involved with my drummer. Because my significant other is IN THE BAND, our interests are the same, and I’m not very understanding when someone else’s significant other gets in the way of the bands’ progression.
I’ve heard horror stories of one band member’s girlfriend sleeping with another band member, or one guitar player’s wife having an affair with another band’s bass player. I’ve also heard of girlfriends giving ultimatums to their guys of “It’s the band or me!” None of these situations end well.
I’ve been lucky enough to not have these types of girlfriend situations occur during the life of my band, but I have silently watched as some pretty lame situations have occurred, which affected my band.
There was once a couple of members whose girlfriends were former best friends, and would do everything to avoid each other at shows, while still supporting their respective guys. Like Sweden, I tried to stay neutral, but soon became a spy sending each messages from the other. I’m not one that usually likes petty nonsense, so as soon as I realized that it was none of my business I stopped, and let them ignore each other from across the clubs we played.
Some girlfriends are completely soluble and totally understand how the band/girlfriend mixture work. We had one band girlfriend who came to our shows and worked the merch booth for us, completely professional, and we didn’t have to pay her. We had another band girlfriend who takes amazing photos take over as our band photographer and neither situation affected the band negatively.
At the beginning of a relationship the girlfriends want to be at the band’s practices, at the shows, and all the band business so they can see their guy at work (or to make sure the hordes of groupies don’t steal their man away). There’s nothing wrong with silently watching or silently admiring, but the minute a girlfriend’s opinion or presence starts to hinder the work of the entire band, that girlfriend becomes a thorn in the side. And, eventually, the band member will either realize the effect she’s having, or the band will have to speak up and that never ends well. Most girls who date band members like the guys BECAUSE they’re in bands, but then something clicks later on down the road and they can’t handle the dedication or the amount of time they spend with the band and they get jealous and want to be the center of their guy’s world.
So I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: if you’re a non-soluble oil type of girlfriend who can’t handle silently admiring your boyfriend’s band or being away from him a couple hours a week so he can practice, or if you can’t handle not being the center of his attention, then don’t date a guy in a band. You should read the disclaimer before you buy the product.
Again with the Promoters
Back in January I wrote a column about promoters and my frustrations with the few in the scene that aren’t doing their jobs as promoters. I received some comments about that column from other local musicians feeling the same way, so I decided to revisit this frustrating topic.
Right now in Sacramento there are too many promoters doing bad business, and too many bands getting the short end of the stick from these promoters.
See, the local club owners like to hire promoters to book shows so they don’t have to handle it. These promoters are expected to book the bands, promote the show with flyers, advertising and Internet presence. It’s also a promoter’s job to set the show’s door charge and to pay the bands after they play.
Lately I’ve been hearing from a lot of bands that they’re playing shows with a decent crowd and then not getting paid.
We musicians have to pay for a lot already. The last thing we need is a greedy promoter taking money from us, too.
Doing the math for some of these shows, it’s utterly ridiculous that this is happening.
So, let’s paint the picture: 200 people at a show pay $8 to get in, and the total is $1,600. Let’s say there’s a sound person who charges $300, and that leaves $1,300. Then, let’s say that the promoter deserves 10 percent of what was brought in, and that leaves $1,170. So, the four bands who played should get $292.50 each. In a perfect world that’s how the shows should be handled.
However, a few crooked promoters have been pocketing the entire amount and not paying the bands or only paying $20 to $40. About 90 percent of the time the owners of the clubs have no idea this is happening.
Promoters, QUIT RIPPING OFF THE BANDS! We’re not idiots and we pay attention to how many people show up and pay.
Now, to my friends the bands: When booking a show, take the time to ask the promoters what their costs are ahead of time. Don’t let them stiff you! Get it in writing and when these shady promoters try to rip you off, bring the writing to the club owners and let them know what’s going on.
We need to take back this scene and make sure these shady promoters are not ruining venues. We’ve lost some great venues due to shady promoters doing bad business.
There are a handful of promoters doing great things in the scene and the bands know who they are. So, please don’t think I’m bashing every promoter, just the shady ones.
The Breakup
Being in a band with three men is similar to dating three men all at once.
They, the guys, can be as vague and elusive in their band relationship as they are in their dating relationships.
Two nights a week we get together in our practice studio and practice our songs. We work on new song ideas and all throw in our input. On occasion opinions clash, but overall we work it out so everyone is happy with the songs we’ve written.
Getting guys to talk about their feelings, even their feelings about their own music is as arduous as learning Latin.
I’ve become a little bitter, like any scorned woman would after some bad breakups.
My band has had some bad luck with guitar players. They keep quitting.
Every time I feel like they’re saying "It’s not you. It’s me!"
But half the time THEY DON’T SAY ANYTHING, AT ALL!
The first time a guitar player quit on my drummer and I, I was devastated. Much like the first time I was dumped.
We were doing so well. We had just released a CD and were getting interest from a record label in Los Angeles. We had big plans, and then POW! Like a punch to the gut we got a phone call from the management at the rehearsal studios saying we had to come get our gear, because our guitar player was quitting the band and needed us to leave. (We’ll call him Gut Puncher.)
Much like getting a call from a boyfriend’s best friend saying "He’s breaking up with you."
A year later we had formed a new band and were doing well again. We had been nominated for a Sammie and we were getting radio play like crazy. Then POW! Another punch in the gut. Our guitar player left us a breakup note in the practice studio, with no real prior evidence to him being unhappy. (We’ll call him note leaver #1)
We found another guitar player within a few days, and he stuck around for two years.
Then, in the midst of fearing for my return after pregnancy, he too, wrote a breakup note and left it in the studio. (We’ll call him note leaver #2)
Now, note leaver #1 returned, but then had an expansion in the family a year later and actually left amicably, with fair warning. Which was a good breakup.
Then note leaver #2 returned for a few months, then left again, amicably as well.
See, like a girl bent on reconciling with every boyfriend, or seeking closure, we allowed everyone who ever quit to come back.
Then Gut Puncher from the first band returned about six months ago. We wrote some songs, played some shows, and then POW! Again, with no inclination of unhappiness in the relationship, our guitar player quits. But, this time, with nothing in the form of communication other than vacating the practice studio when no one was around.
Really. NO note, no phone call, no voicemail, no text message or e-mail. Nothing.
Imagine how bitter this breakup could make. However now, I’ve gotten numb to the whole thing. I look at it like an insecure, jilted lover, it’s just a matter of time before they leave me!
We found a new guitar player already. This one looks promising. Unfortunately he’s got a lot of my jilted lover baggage to deal with, but he’s pretty amazing so far. And seems to actually appreciates the band.
Wish us luck.
Reunion
March is a big month for me this year. Not only do I get to celebrate the year anniversary of my dream of being a professional magazine editor, but I get to celebrate my 10 year high school reunion, and my 28th birthday! Read more
This One’s For The Promoters
Every kid who picks up a guitar or a microphone dreams of one day fighting off the paparazzi and swimming in dough. But then the harsh reality of life kicks in, probably around their mid-teens, early twenties, and that dream gets shattered when they realize it’s not as easy as playing one show, getting signed, and moving to LA.
Most bands who’ve “made it” earned their dues by playing crappy bars, scraping by for gas to get to one town or another, and playing those shows where only two or three people actually show up. That’s the life of a local band. Hardly ever do we actually make enough money to cover expenses, or profit. Hardly ever do we find a club or a promoter who pays fairly and does their job of really promoting a band or show. Hardly ever does the ride go smoothly. Hardly ever do we give up after a bumpy ride.
In today’s scene there are so many people trying to get a piece of the pie that is live music. The business of being in a band is as difficult as ever, and the business of playing shows is just as daunting.
The bands that are doing it right are paying for a rehearsal studio, gas, gear and the maintenance on said gear, ads in local magazines, flyers, stickers, merch, etc. And then when we play a show for a crooked booker/promoter we get stiffed when pay-out time comes and we get excuses as to why they can’t pay even though we brought over a hundred paying friends and family to the club at $8 a head. Sometimes after driving over 60 miles in four different vehicles.
Granted not all bookers/promoters are crooked. Some understand and pay the bands no matter what, even out of their own pocket at times. Some promote their shows and do their job right. Some promoters love the music so much they take care of the bands and have a real talent for doing all they can to make the scene better (most can be found in these pages). Certainly me ranting about this will ruffle some feathers, but I’ve been in this scene for going on eight years, and have a long list of crooked promoters I just flat out won’t deal with any more, all of them know who they are.
These crooked promoters have to know that in the local band community, you stiff or unfairly treat one band, a lot of other bands will know and not want to deal with you.
I wrote about what the bands can do to better the scene and now I felt the need to write about what the promoters could do.
Quit taking the bands for granted! We put a lot of money, hard work, blood, sweat and tears into all that we do. Do your job of promoter and promote your shows, if you truly want to use that title.
We know you have expenses too, but all of those should be laid out on the table when the show is booked, not any later.
It’s a hard enough life as a local musician already, like we need more snakes in the grass nipping at our heels.
If you’re in it for the money, you’re not a good promoter.
The Devil Has a MySpace Page
A little over a year ago while I was on maternity leave and my band was working on new songs, a nuclear bomb hit the band and myself. It was slow yet devastating, via dial up. After three years of networking, booking shows, and uploading songs to our myspace page, it was deleted.
At first I though someone hacked it. I emailed Myspace’s customer service twice and never received a response.
Fuming with frustration at losing over two thousand five hundred friends and all the contacts we had made over three years, I started another account. Twenty four hours later, it was deleted. I e-mailed customer service again and still didn’t get a response. We didn’t break any of their rules/standards so I requested a legitimate reason for our account to be deleted again.
With no response and no idea why we kept getting deleted. I tried again to start up a new account. Twenty four hours later, the same freaking thing. At that point I was beyond furious, and hormonal.
I did a search on Myspace to see if some of the other bands with Bipolar in their name were having the same problem. A month prior, there were three pages of bands with Bipolar in their names, We were, however, the first Bipolar that registered with Myspace and had the cool URL to prove it. Then, after all the drama there was one.
One band in New York with the name Bipolar popped up after my search. Only being on the site for less than a year, I knew they had some hand in our page being deleted. I had an insticnt it had something to do with them trying to claim rights to a name we had held since late 2002. I called them. Left an angry voice mail, letting them know who they were screwing with and what proof I had of us using and recording under the name for the past 5 years.
I then started a new account. That account is still going strong.
This whole ordeal made me realize how much of a phenomanom Myspace has been for bands. The site offers networking, exposure, a free web identity, promotion, and community to the bands of the world. Without a Myspace page, your band pretty much doesn’t exist.
However, a band can’t depend just on Myspace as their sole promotion tool. Crap happens that can ruin your sole promotion tool, hackers, crappy bands trying to lay claim to your name, servers crash, etc. If you’re all dependent on a website, and you have a show to promote what are you going to do if that fails??
Here I am bringing this scene a magazine to use as a marketing tool, for networking, exposure, and community. Yet we’re just a sliver of the giant forest at a band’s fingertips.
There are dozens of magazines, thousands of websites, locally driven radio stations, and show promoting outlets besides Myspace.
Get off your asses, make some flyers, attend other bands’ shows to promote your own, make demos to hand out, sticker the world, and support the scene outside of the internet.
The Band Curriculum
Being in a band in the Sacramento scene for the past seven years has been like attending college. The Sacramento Junior College of Rock/Metal. I think I earned my Bachelors a couple years ago, and have no idea when I’ll reach my Masters.
The first two years of being in this Junior college was all fun and parties. Playing every weekend in crappy bars, getting so drunk we (the band) could hardly stand up straight on stage, having random after parties at our downtown apartment, barely getting paid $40 a show and sometimes even getting paid with alcohol. At the beginning we practiced in a storage unit. It was stiffling hot in the summer and freezing in the winter, but it was the only affordable option with none of us having garages and not wanting to deal with the neighbors complaining to the cops. Kind of like dorms.
Then we moved up to a professional practice studio that was less affordable. We started to learn what clubs to play and not play, what marketing tools really worked and how valuable a well produced demo and merchandise really was. We chose our major and cracked down on doing our homework.
This scene has changed since 2000, however, some standards remain the same for every band and now, as I’m reaching my eighth year in this scene I have some advice to hand down to the freshmen who are willing to learn.
1. PROMOTE YOUR SHOWS. Don’t complain that no one showed up to your gig when all you did was send an event invite over Myspace. Flyers are more valuable that you realize. Personally handing out flyers is the best way to personally introduce yourself and your music to someone who might otherwise never hear of you. Get your shows on every show calendar possible, there are three music magazines counting Fringe out of Sacramento, radio stations and even more internet show calendars you should be sending every one of your dates to.
2. PLAY LESS SHOWS IN YOUR HOMETOWN. If you have two or three shows within two weeks of each-other in the same town/area, you’re playing too much. Nobody these days can afford to see your band two or three times in one weekend, and nobody probably wants too, with exception of your mom, or your girlfriend. It’s called Supply & Demand. If you’re supplying your fans with too many options in a short time frame, there’s not a strong demand for your music.
3. BE DIFFERENT. There are hundreds if not thousands of bands from the greater Sacrament/Solano areas and they’re all aiming for the same fanbase, venues, and radio stations. If you sound and look like every other band out there, you’ll be bottom of the totem pole. What makes your band different? What do you offer the scene that every other band doesn’t? I’m not saying have a gimmick, I’m saying step up your game!
4. MARKETING. Bands that don’t have t-shirts, stickers, buttons, hats, etc. aren’t marketing their band correctly. With so many online printing companys there’s no excuse not to have these things. Not only do they pay for themselves after you sell a few but the money can sometimes make-up for the non paying gigs. Also, how cool is it to see Jane Doe rocking your band’s tee when you’re randomly mall shopping?
So these are the first key points in my lesson. If you have any questions email me personally, I may be able to bestow upon you my vast wisdom, or whatever. E-mail: charlie@fringemag.com
How Not To Sell A Vacuum…
One downside of living in a house and not in a van down by the river, is solicitors. We get Mormons, Witnesses, children selling candy, but recently we got quite the anomalous visitor.
At 8:30pm on a Saturday my husband answered the door and failed at shooing away a door-to-door vacuum salesman. He tried to tell the guy to get lost, but after offering him a deep carpet cleaning of any room, my husband crumbled handing over the torch to me the “lady of the house”.
I thought door-to-door vacuum salesmen were extinct. Apparently, these relentless beasts only come out when you’re cooking a late dinner and trying to play video games as your 10-month-old son is finally asleep.
They sneak in offering deep cleaning but wreak havoc trying to convince you to buy an $1800 vacuum and making you feel like the filthiest person alive with their special filters and transmission powered shiny metal suckers.
The poor 20-year-old kid offered to clean one room for only an hour of his sales pitch. We agreed out of pity (and wanting our carpet cleaned for free).
Now, I understand the young man trying to sell us a vacuum was only doing his job, and even though we greeted him at the door with a “No WAY can we afford that,” he tried his damnedest to convince us otherwise.
He vacuumed the carpet with our own trusty affordable vacuum first, then set up his machine of humiliation. Vacuuming over the same area, he pulled out a filter and showed us what looked like a 8-pound hairball made out of dirt and dust.
He then said 10 words, “Do you really want your son crawling around on this?” as he looked at me I could have chopped off his head and buried him in the dust and dirt the vacuum had just picked up.
My glare probably convinced him of his utter doom and he then tried another approach. “But it’s not your fault, you’re only as good as the tools you use, and your current vacuum is at fault.”
Little did he know I was still plotting his demise and wondering what type of flowers I could plant in the soil he’d be six feet under.
He continued to fill up filters and show us how great the machine he was peddling really was. He told a story about how NASA had developed the shiny metal motorized vacuum head that was powered by a real transmission.
He then used an the upholstery attachment on our 4 year old couch, and got a small amount of dust and dirt and claimed it was “Fart Dust.”
Once again I was plotting his burial under my garden.
He tried and tried, but we had warned him before he took his first step into our threshold. “We cannot afford an $1800 vacuum, no matter how great it works.”
He offered us a payment plan and I assured him, “Unless it’s free, no way.”
By this time, over an hour had passed and my dinner was cold. He wrapped up his pitch with “When you can afford it gives us a call.”
I almost kicked his poorly dressed butt out the door but refrained out of pity.
The One Where I Gush…
My husband and I both agree that we have a successful, happy marriage.
We were friends, we dated, we moved in together, we were engaged for four years, we got married, we were married for two years and then we planned on having a child together. When I write it like that, the real romance of it disappears. But in our heads we did things “right.”
Not that people who didn’t take the same steps as us are doing it wrong, but just that we did things right for us.
Everything flowed the way it was supposed to — naturally.
We’re completely in love with each other, with our child, and with everything we have. In the almost eight years of our relationship, we’ve never spent an entire day apart. When we tell people that, especially married people, they call us crazy, and say snide things like, “That won’t last, eventually you’ll get tired of each other.”
Yes, we get tired, but never of each other. Yes, we are far from perfect. However, we both have very fulfilling lives and we’ve made them fulfilling together.
We are (separately) very independent people, so don’t think we’re both codependent slags that need to have someone else to make us happy. That whole cliché “you complete me” comment doesn’t apply to us. We completed ourselves before we met and now we accent each other with just the perfect fit.
It may seem like I’m just gushing, but really I have a point.
We fell in love with each other for who we are, not who we were pretending to be.
My husband has this theory called “the threemonth rule.” At the beginning of a relationship you’re all about the person you’re with. Everything is new and fresh. You can’t get enough of them.
Then, as you spend more time with them, approximately three months, the true colors start coming through, and they may not be the original hue you thought you picked out of the crayon box. Instead you realize that person put up a front and now they aren’t who you thought they were. You fight or you cheat. You break up and move on.
We know a lot of other couples who aren’t happy with their lives or their significant others. My husband’s friends complain about their women nagging, not having enough sex, or how their kids stress them out. I hear from women about how their men don’t take responsibility, not having enough sex, and about how they never get help from their men with their kids. And now for my unsolicited relationship advice.
If you’re not happy, talk about it! Tell the person you love why you’re not happy and come to a solution together, a compromise.
Relationships are a compromise. You’ve heard this crap on Oprah. Use it.
If the other person isn’t listening or if you’re arguing instead of having a conversation, then counseling might help.
Counseling doesn’t have to be going to a shrink. Counseling can be a day at the spa, a long walk together, a date night, anything that soothes the nerves and alleviates stress together.
Our biggest success secret in our marriage is communication. We talk about everything. Even things we don’t want to talk about. This has made us each other’s best friend.
Another bit of BIG advice is never go to bed mad at each other.
Unsolved problems just pile up and eventually take over like the smell of bad trash. Even if you have to admit when you’re wrong it’s worth dropping a grudge instead of carrying it around in your relationship. These are just tips not prescriptions. I don’t know you or your significant other, and I’m sure-as-hell not a doctor. However, I am happy — happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
