Where gigs come from

So today was a much better day. As I remarked to my mom this morning, it's truly amazing how quickly things can turn 180 degrees. Yesterday, I had just missed a Sunday gig due to being stuck in traffic (not a great practice, but it was one of my regular church gigs and they are pretty chill about such things - not like a wedding or anything - I wouldn't have been playing a show upstate in the first place if that had been the case); then I was offered a gig Monday morning that fell through. I haven't made the money I needed to this month, and that's always frustrating.

But today, I went out to Queens to play soccer with a Venezuelan friend who has given me work in the past. And he offered me a very lucrative recording gig for mid August. A gig lucrative enough to by itself pay 80% of my expenses for the month (rent, subway, internet, food). He also offered me a potential gig in September that I may or may not be available for. The point is, one day one can be feeling frustrated and wondering how to pay the bills, and the next day the answer can just come out of the blue.

This of course in no way detracts from the validity of yesterday's posts. The NYC scene is indeed a cruel place. But not always.

Anyways, on the commute home I was thinking about how one gets gigs in this city, and I realized that about 90% or so of my gigs have come from only two initial sources: craigslist, and a cellist colleague of mine from Mannes. In her case, she left town and sent a number of people she works with my name. This led to both my regular church gigs, as well as work with some excellent bands. While working with one of those bands I met a violinist, who knows a composer, who wrote some string arrangements for a folk singer who then needed quality string players to record for him. Several degrees of separation, yet yielding some very good work.

As for Craigslist, much of the work I get directly, as in someone posts a message looking for a cellist, I send them my materials, and I'd say about 40%-50% of the time, I get hired. However, one also tends to meet people during these gigs who can end up being excellent connections. For instance, the guy I was playing soccer with who offered me this most timely of recording gigs was someone I met while doing a not so well paying gig for a church that posted on Craigslist. I recently was asked to do a film score by a friend of a singer-songwriter I used to work with, whom I met via craigslist.

All this goes to show that no matter what, you HAVE to get yourself out there. Relying on music school and people you meet there can sometimes work out, but the reality is that having as broad a base of contacts as possible is absolutely key. Even if at first you have to take a lot of free or low-paying gigs. I got my second church gig while playing a service that, at the time, was ostensibly a free gig (I was later paid, but I was told beforehand that I wouldn't be). That's not to say that one should ever undervalue their talent; if you're going to play a free gig, at least make sure it's worth your time, either through quality of musicianship (working with great people is its own reward, as far as I'm concerned) or for a good cause. However, especially in a big city, it's unwise to always turn up your nose at a gig just because it's in an odd part of town, requires a long commute, and/or doesn't pay well. You never know, the people you meet may be the only thing between you and needing to get a day job.

Recordings

A friend of mine recently posted on youtube some recordings of performances we did together about a year and a half ago. There is no video (only nice pics of the two of us) but the audio quality is pretty good, and the performance of the Brahms Sonata was, I would have to say, one of my strongest to date. So for your listening pleasure:

Brahms Sonata in F:

movement I

movement II

movement III

movement IV

Messiaen, Louange a l'eternite de jesus

The problem of big talkers

So I thought about grouping this post with the previous one, but really I think it deserves its own heading. It's on another subject that's been bothering me lately.

Hey, if you want posts on happy topics, go talk to someone living in a room that isn't 6' X 10'.

Now, I'm sure to many who know me, the title will inevitably lead to accusations of potcallingkettleblackitis. And they would be absolutely true and well-founded. However, I'm in no position to really affect anyone's livelihood, so frankly I can talk all I want. I hope that, some day, when I'm more successful, that I remember this time in my life and choose my words carefully when discussing things that affect livelihoods, and to never make promises that I have no intention of keeping.

That last point is essential. When I was first getting into rock music, I took everyone at their word. If they said they were going to hire me again, I was filled with hope that they would actually do so, and that more gigs would be coming my way soon. The sad reality, however, is that almost nobody does this. Not even many musicians. Musicians, of course, are not nearly as guilty of this as industry types, but they do it all the same.

I once did a BIG gig for a guy. I mean big as in 6 rehearsals or so over the span of a month, and then a 5 day mini tour. I should have been paid double what I was given, but I agreed to do it in exchange for this certain well-placed individual's promise to pass some work in my direction. This was a necessary stipulation of our agreement, since the expense of staying in NYC for that extra month was about double what the gig paid, so I figured it was a fair deal. So I did the gig (and quite well, I may add - the bass player still occasionally calls me to this day, so clearly I performed up to and I'd say beyond all expectations; it was a HARD gig). The group I was working with assured me that this person would keep his end of the bargain when he returned in the fall. And so the months went by, and eventually I did hear from him again, once, for a wedding gig. It was a $200 gig, and so I was pleased to get it, but it was far from what we had agreed upon. I sent him a few more e-mails after that. He said he may have another gig for me, but after that I never heard from him again - he wouldn't even respond to my constant inquiries on whether or not I even still had the gig he said I should be possibly ready for.

This experience taught me a very valuable lesson: never take anything for granted, not even when every indication points to the honesty of the person. To this day I am still upset with the person in question. I feel he used me to get out of a commitment, and then when I demanded fair value for my service he very much failed to live up to his end of the bargain.

I suppose this was the worst example of people making promises they were unwilling to keep. In all the myriad other cases, it was producers, engineers, recording artists saying they would love to have me back, in some cases saying they already had a project lined up for me. They, however, didn't explicitly owe me anything. They were just talking.

Now, part of this has to do with the inherent uncertainties in the industry. I remember once, about a year ago, Emanuel and the Fear was offered an opening slot for a band called the New Pornographers, a very famous indie band, for a college show in Nebraska. Of course, we were all excited about this and made sure we kept the date open. However, as it drew closer and closer, things kept going wrong. First the New Pornographers dropped out, and were replaced by the Decemberists. They dropped out, and were apparently replaced by Spoon, who then also decided against this concert, and so the whole thing was scrapped. Frankly, I don't know any details about why or how all of this happened, and I'm not sharing this incident to point to flakiness on anyone's part, only to point out that such things are in fact common in the rock business.

That said, literally every time I'm in a recording studio, SOMEone says that they have more work for me, or will soon. And NO ONE ever calls again. Oh, there are rare exceptions, but they usually involve the same project. For instance I once laid down some string tracks for a pop album, and the album's writer had me back in the next week to lay down a few more backing tracks, but he said he'd definitely be calling me back for other projects and a show in the fall with the artist I was recording for, but no dice.

At first it bothered me. Now, it still bothers me, but I take it for granted. And I always hand out my business card and pretend to be enthusiastic and friendly, but really I know that their words are just empty talk, until proven otherwise.

Bitterness and the NYC scene

So I've heard reports recently that some folks actually enjoy reading my blog. That's a reason to write. So here I am, writing. Plus, well, today I felt a desire to write about a topic that's been coming up a lot recently in my life. Thus the title.

The simple reality is that being a musician in NYC is HARD. Really hard. Of course it's quite easy for some, or at least easier; those with Broadway gigs in popular shows (Billy Elliott, The Lion King), those with regular teaching jobs or substantial private studios, and of course those lucky enough to play with the symphony. Other than that, however, the majority of New York musicians are freelancers like myself. Most have day jobs; those that don't are often unsure about where their next rent check is coming from (my situation), and in effect sacrifice security for a much greater chance at achieving their goals.

However, I'd first like to focus on a third group of musicians: the visionaries. I suppose that's a rather flattering way to put it, but what I'm referring to are those who write music, organize bands, and then try to turn the project into something they can use to support themselves. Obviously quite a few of them are far from visionary, with egos far surpassing their meager talents. But then again, in a city like New York, there are a great many who are brilliant musicians, writing in many genres. Some few are successful. A depressingly large number of the musical mediocrity manage, in some cases, a great deal of success (even one of them is too many in my book; it takes opportunities away from the truly creative).

For a relative unknown such as myself (I hope that's changing, but it's hard to tell), I generally end up working with artists who can't afford to spend a lot of money, which means I can be choosy about whom I work with (for only $50, I won't work with a hack). Also, the type of songwriters who envision cello in their project generally have a greater understanding of, and desire to make compelling, original music than many. What this boils down to is the fact that, generally speaking, I end up working with a lot of brilliant, yet unsuccessful songwriters.

This brings me to the title of my post. Lately I've been noticing a strong streak of bitterness in these people, a sort of jaded cynicism. And it's completely understandable. For someone in my situation, I make my living by working with a great many projects, and being paid for my endeavors. A songwriter, however, to form a successful project, must devote him or herself entirely to that project. It's true they may do one-offs once in a while, but the simple truth is that I've seldom met songwriters who were also professional freelancers. One I work with quite a bit teaches quite a few students on various instruments to support his project, but most of the others I work with have day jobs. This is mainly because of the simple reality that the club scene here in NYC is truly a barbaric industry.

Here's how it works: band talks to booker at a club. Booker offers random slot, probably 9 or 10 PM on a weeknight. Booker then talks about pay. A typical deal , for instance, is the club will take the first, say, 7 cover charges, and the bands get some percentage of the remainder, never less than 50%, rarely 100%. However, the catch is that you also have to bring out a certain number of fans, or else the club will likely never book you again. Some mid-size venues (capacity 200-300) want you to bring out at least 75, most smaller clubs will be happy with 15-20, especially on weeknights and holidays. Another sad reality of the NYC scene is that people generally only stay for the band they come to see. So a typical club will have 3-5 bands most nights, with a constant turnover in the audience. Some clubs push this by making you pay a cover charge for each set, or by instituting a drink minimum that applies to each set, although I haven't seen too much of this.

What this boils down to is, for a new band, a really difficult uphill battle. For a new band, the fan-base will be friends, and pretty much only friends. And, given the realities of the club scene, it can be extremely difficult to expand that fan base, since no one sticks around across sets. This also means that most initial shows will have very little, if any payout, meaning that a band must either be comprised entirely of members dedicated to the project, or have the band leader be willing and able to fund it (this is generally how I make a lot of my income).

This produces a lot of bitterness. I've heard two amazing songwriters recently (one I've worked with for 3 years, another I played a house concert with) mention that they are thinking about just giving up entirely. Years of playing gigs for no money, knowing that the quality of the music that they are making far outshines much of what "makes it", tends to breed first frustration, then resignation ("well, I may not be making any money, but at least I'm doing what I love), then cynicism. Many of us freelancers go through similar stages (I don't know where I'd fall currently - but at least I can basically pay my bills doing nothing but music, so I really can't say I have THAT much to complain about), but I know for a fact that it's harder for the songwriters, who have to deal with the catch-22 of needing money to really get a project off the ground (band members, demo recordings, rehearsal space) and yet not having a built-in system in place to make it possible to make money.

It seems things really are different in Europe. When on tour, I met many club owners and promoters who were doing what they were doing simply for the love of the music. One man, I think Andy was his name, in the town of Middlesbrough, was absolutely thrilled to make $20 on the show. Another, Paul Jackson in the city of Hull (owner of the New Adelphi) told us that he was simply unwilling to book big artists - his mission is to bring new, undiscovered music to people, and he makes enough to live on doing it that there's no reason to change. I have yet to see a club like that in NYC. It could be because expenses in the city are so high that no one can afford to. However, I think it simply has more to do with the fact that that philosophy doesn't exist here. And it's a real shame. And it will continue to drive more and more brilliant people away from making the music they love.