Rehashing

"I used to be with "it", but then they changed what "it" was. Now, what I'm with isn't "it", and what's "it" seems weird and scary to me. And it'll happen to you."

-Grampa Simpson

Lately, I haven't been buying all that much in the way of new music. I'm sure there are more than a few reasons for this. One big one is that I am slowly moving away from prime marketing age (generally 18-35, but for music usually 14-21) and therefore no one in the industry cares what I think (as opposed to the internets), so no one is trying to promote music that they think I would listen to. People were trying to market to me in the 90's, and it worked; between 1994-2001 I could listen to the radio or watch MuchMusic and be almost guaranteed to hear or see something I would like.

Now, having been stamped as a non-consumer by the powers that be, it's up to me to do the research to find bands that I like. Lately, I can't be bothered. In the last six months I've discovered two bands that I really like (not counting artists that I met at my own shows): The Do (check out "Stay Just A Little More") and The Bird and the Bee, and both of those have come from other people (Krista and Mandie, respectively).

So what, you may ask, am I spending my music money on?

Something I always said I wouldn't.

Compilations.

In the last couple of months I've bought both the Beastie Boys and Matt Good anthologies and they're in my car's player pretty much 24-7 (ask Krista, she knows). I also own the Barenaked Ladies' anthology and would shell out for best-of's by Green Day, Radiohead, and almost any other "classic" band of the 90's (except the Tragically Hip). I'm actually ashamed of being this guy. I remember working at Sunrise Records and judging the people who came in to buy all the 80's compilations, or who could sing every Prince lyric but had no idea who Bradley Nowell was and why it was such a big deal that he was dead (at the time, it was because Sublime could have done so much more: Now it's because the Long Beach Dub All-Stars probably would never have come to pass). A real music fan, I thought, would remain "in the loop" and would appreciate something that was current.

I have definitely become the person on the other side of the counter. To paraphrase Homer Simpson in "Homerpalooza" (the same episode that spawned the quote above), rock attained perfection in 1994. It's a scientific fact: Green Day's Dookie, Nirvana's Unplugged, Moist's Silver, Our Lady Peace's Naveed (the only less-than-craptacular album they have ever done), and so on.

I like (but am saddened by the fact) that I get the same rush listening to "Everything is Automatic" driving to work in my Focus as I did busing to school with my Discman. I can't remember what I read in almost any of my classes, but I totally remember the lyrics to "Sure Shot". Am I totally analogous to the dude who would come into the store and tell me about how Metallica or Slayer hadn't released anything good since the eighties (he was right about Metallica, at least)? No, I am not! The 80s had SO MUCH to be ashamed of: Flock of Seagulls (and the resulting haircuts), Soft Cell, Newcleus, Hall and Oates, Tiffany, glam rock in general, etcetera. The 90's were cool (as long as you discount Lou Bega, the Macarena, Vanilla Ice, MC Hammer, Butt Trumpet, and everything that came out of Seattle except Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Soundgarden). To this day we look cool, with our flannel shirts, Doc Martens and carving "Kurt" into our arms in 1994. We started emo, and our dudes didn't need to dress like girls to make it happen (although our girls did kind of dress like dudes).

So to conclude, I'm cool with being pegged as a 90's guy 'cause the 90's were awesome. All the kids will think I'm cool because of it. For serious.

I wonder if being OK with this now will make it OK for me to give up on new music altogether later. My dad was totally like that. He knows every song written in the 50s and 60s. There are forty or so songs he likes from the seventies. The eighties were unkind to him. He liked some stuff, but not The Smiths or the Cure or anything like that: he more went for "We Built This City" by Jefferson Starship and "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart. By the nineties he couldn't be bothered to listen to anything except "Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba and anything that would appear on a "Jock Jams" compilation. Is this the natural and inevitable progression of my musical interest? I don't think so. What's the double-naught version of Chumbawumba? I don't think it's the White Rabbits.

Eventually, I'm sure it will come to pass that my brain will be too full of music and I will wave the white flag. It happens to everyone, and quite frankly it seems like it happens to most people before the age of 28. So please think kindly of me if in ten years you catch me in my basement hunched over a discman in my flannel instead of listening to the computer chip in my brain (yeah, YOU think it won't happen). I wasn't always that way, you know.

In honour of today's topic, here are the 5 best bands you don't remember from the 90's (no particular order):

1. Rusty
2. Glueleg
3. Econoline Crush
4. The Killjoys
5. Royal Crown Revue (remember the swing revival?)
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IN OTHER NEWS!
Played a bunch of shows last week and will probably post about them on Friday. Also, I was in Toronto last Thursday and picked up not only a man purse MESSENGER BAG, but also broke down and picked up the Will Currie album when I found it in Sunrise. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to think yet and I'm kind of not digging it. I have to sort out if I don't like it because I don't like it OR if it's because I already have most of the songs OR if it's because the old songs were remastered and I don't like that, and so on. I'll let you know when I've figured it out.

Promoter's Commandments II: Thou Shalt Not Expect People To Come Just Because There's A Show

Hey, kids. Due to getting back late on Friday from a day trip I didn't do the post I thought I would. So this is the second in my “Promoter’s Commandments” series. Yep, I have a series. drummerthoughts is epic, I tells ya.

Unless you’ve booked Elton John because there are a lot of tasteless people in the world (that’s for fans of the other blog…kidding!), chances are you won’t be able to just throw up a couple of posters and wait for the crowds to start rolling in. Most lay-promoters are people who are either in a band or who love music and aren’t in a band, so it makes sense that they are friends with musicians and want to book local talent. This is great. But you have to realize that unless your goal is to get the ten or fifteen people in your scene to show up (HINT: It shouldn’t be!) then you need to do more.

You’re the promoter: your job is PROMOTION. That means hand fliers, posters, and cold-calling every newspaper, radio station, magazine, etc. you can think of. I did some promoting for two Runaway gigs, one in Hamilton, one in Kitchener. I had to call six newspapers to get mentioned in one, and I called five radio stations and got mentioned on none of them. This is a very crappy and demoralizing part of the job, because most people will treat you like dirt for bothering them. If it’s a pretty underground show look to your local alternative weeklys, as they’re usually apt to cover any show that’s happening (and you have a good chance of getting an article rather than just a mention in “Upcoming Events”). No point in not trying the majors, but don’t be surprised to get stonewalled.

The age of cyber-networking has made things a lot easier to advertise, but there’s a false sense of security in this sort of thing. Like I said in my first Commandment, a good general rule is to use your own experience as a measuring stick for setting up your show. How many group/event invites do you get on Facebook or Myspace that you ACTUALLY read? And of those that you read, how many do you ACTUALLY respond to? For me it’s in the 75% region, and that’s only because I don’t get many. Don’t get me wrong, definitely set those things up as a “hub”, but that’s not enough. You should personally invite as many people as you can via email, messages, phone or talking in person (weird, I know).

Bands, always always ALWAYS make sure to ask the promoter what she or he plans to do to promote the show. This is, in my experience, the easiest way to separate those who are interested in having a good show from those who are content to set up a sound system and drink with their friends in the other band. And if the promoter is “looking for your help” with promotion, make sure you’re getting a flat rate AND a percentage of the door, because you are now doing two jobs.

Promoter's Commandments I: Thou Shalt Not Break Even

This is the first non-review I’ve posted here (as, you know, the second post) and I need to clarify something before I go further: I am not a music guru, nor would I consider myself such. I have never been full-time in the music industry and I cannot claim to have made a lot of money doing it. These are just personal opinions formed over playing shows and being around the industry for 10 years or so.

I played a show last weekend that I had been pretty excited about. It was a festival, and festivals generally mean lots and lots of people. I can’t say for certain that every musician thrives on getting up in front of large amounts of people to ply their trade, but I will say the majority of us love it for one reason or another. Some are extremely pragmatic: “The law of averages says one in five people will buy my CD after my set, and I counted twenty-five people here, so I’m goin’ home with $50, baby!” Most others, like me, are simply performers by nature and love the chance to entertain, interact with, and impress an audience (and even entertainers, the potential for $50 in sales doesn’t hurt. Band’s gotta eat.) So festivals = lots of people = band excitement.

Unfortunately, when I arrived at this festival just after noon (it had been going since 11) there were a grand total of three non-staff at the grounds. Three. There were literally more people on stage than there were in the audience. We went on around 7 or so and the crowd had swelled to 20, but it was still a bit disappointing. And hurtful financially.

This seems to be a common theme throughout my “career”: shows you think are going to be well attended that wind up barely drawing flies. I think a lot of this has to do with promotion, and why some people should never do it.

I appreciate people volunteering to put on shows and provide places to play, but I really don’t think people understand how music works and why promotion is possibly the hardest thing to do. As a promoter, your job is to sell the show. You have to generate interest and compel people to come out. I’ve only promoted 5 shows in ten years, mostly because after the first one I recognized what a time-sucking money hole it is. Not that being a musician isn’t a time-sucking money hole, but I enjoy performing. I don’t enjoy promoting.

So this is going to be the first in my series of Promoter’s commandments:

THOU SHALT NOT EXPECT TO BREAK EVEN

This is the very first truth you have to realize as a promoter: You are going to lose money. Fact, fact, fact. Get used to it, because everyone else in the lower-paid echelons of the music industry (roughly 90% of us) already have. Posters are expensive. Sound equipment, hall rental, etc. are expensive. And yeah, you can get some of it back by charging $15 - $20 at the door for four local bands and not paying any of them, but odds are most people will be turned off by the price tag, and having people out to listen is kind of the whole point, right?

As a band member you often hear promoters throw themselves at your mercy saying they “didn’t break even”. This may seem harsh, but that was not, is not and will never be the band’s fault. Unless you had an agreement with the band that they would co-promote with you (and what good are you then?) the band’s job is to show up to play. Yours is to get people out. If this freaks you out, then feel free to promise the band a percentage of the door in lieu of a fixed amount. WARNING: Most established bands will run fast and run far away at the mention of a “percentage” payday. You get what you pay for.

So how will you lose money? Let’s run a cost analysis:

SOUND SYSTEM RENTAL: Minimum $150
HALL RENTAL: Anywhere between $100-$1,000 depending on size and length of time
POSTERS/FLIERS: Minimum $50 ($150 if professionally designed, which everyone should do)
GAS FOR THE BANDS: If local, about $10-20 each, so around $30-$60
SOUND PERSON: $50

So even at the lowest end you’re looking at being $400 in the hole before you’re out of the gates.

This is especially relevant to fundraisers. Fundraisers can work if everyone from the band to the hall owner to the designer to the sound guy agrees that they will take no money. But you still have to make sure you do all the other stuff right to ensure you get a crowd, and therefore, you know, raise funds.

OK! So now no one wants to be a promoter. I’m still going to post some other “Commandment” blogs later.

IN OTHER NEWS!!!!!

My awesome girlfriend Krista just got back from Europe and she brought me a CD by a band called The Do. I like it enough to review, so I may post that next week. I think on Friday I’ll tell the story of the best show I ever promoted. Stay classy.

Review -- We Are Scientists' Brain Thrust Mastery

So first of all, welcome to my new blog. The idea is that I'll be posting all the music related stuff that doesn't fit on the Haus Hlog: reviews, thought on the industry, my own experiences, etc. My best intentions will be to update twice a week, definitely on Fridays and once some other time during the week. Right now, I am the only reader. Let's see how long that lasts!


Ask anyone I hung out with last summer -- all I ever wanted to listen to was We Are Scientists' With Love and Squalor. I barely missed them on two tour stops (once I didn't find out until after the show, the other I couldn't find anyone to go with me to Toronto), and I'm feeling like I might not get that opportunity back. Obviously WAS will come back to TO at some point, but I doubt I'll go see them after Brain Thrust Mastery.

Yes, I understand the easiest thing in the world is to pan a sophomore album. There's less time to write it, more pressure to have it do well, and it's hard to keep from playing it safe; conversely, you can't go too far from what worked (and yes, I know WAS had a disc or two before Squalor, but that was their first LP).

At some point before Mastery was recorded, drummer Michael Tapper left the Scientists to pursue "other things". There are a lot of bands that could get by with any drummer at the helm (most of my bands can say this), but We Are Scientists is not one of them. Tapper's frantic, focused, outside-the-box drumming was an essential equal third in the attack and edge of Squalor, and it's extremely noticeable by its absence. Don't get me wrong, session drummer Garrett Ray is more than competent, but he's not a part of the songwriting process and is limited at how far he can go. His beats and fills are very predictable and have nothing resembling the percussive craftsmanship that Tapper applied to each song.

Granted, there's not a lot of room to be creative when everything slows down to mid-tempo toe-tapping rock. For the most part, Squalor was too fast to tap your foot to; you had to dance. Everything here is just plodding by comparison. No jittery guitar, no teeth-gritting vocals, no invincibly pounding bass lines. Melodically, everything sounds very poppy and hooky, which is not a crime, but is somewhat disappointing.

The production is tough to swallow. There were very few studio add-ons on Squalor, barring the odd keyboard or tambourine. Mastery is awash in synths, strings, saxophones, cymbal washes, and layered guitar parts. No surprise, considering Ariel Rechtshaid (who me and Wally remember as the lead singer/keyboard wizard of 90's ska underground sensations the Hippos) pushed the sliders on this disc. I loved the Hippos back then, even when they were rocking ridiculously 80's synth pop on their last album, Heads Are Gonna Roll . I'm not at all sure who thought marrying those sounds to WAS was a good idea.

If I was still writing reviews for free CDs and to see my name in newsprint professionally, I would have to talk about the individual songs at some point. Thankfully (for me, not so much for you) I am my blog's editor, so I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. And I don't want to try and find the defining characteristics of what amounts to eleven similar anthills in a row. If I had to pick a song to recommend, I'd pick "Chick Lit" as it comes closest to the intensity and grand sense of personal failure that characterized WAS when I wanted to make sure everyone I knew had heard them.

Downer way to start the blog (mlog?), I know. Sorry. I still want to review Tokyo Police Club's sophomore disc, because I love it a lot. If I can find a store in town that's carrying it I'll also cover Will Currie and the Country French's A Great Stage. I've also got a lot of shows coming up and some backlogged stories about shows I've already had this year.

If you want to catch me live, I'm playing at the Freeway Cafe in Hamilton this Wednesday (June 4) with the Runaway. Thanks for stopping in!