Flyer for tonight's gig. Designed by Mark Jason. |
As I sit in my mother and father-in-laws house in Ann Arbor
typing this, Mark Jason is getting started playing a gig I was slated to play
at Handlebar in The Grove. In an uncharacteristic lack of foresight, I
booked a happy hour show for the Friday before Memorial Day, the precise
weekend my wife and I had been planning on visiting her family.
When push came to shove, Mark, who had been scheduled to
play the middle set between my sets, boldly took on the whole three hours (which
I suspect may have been more than he bargained for when he accepted the
gig). Luckily, however, Mark found
someone to open for him, who is probably just getting off the stage as I type
these words.
This turn of events has a magnitude that I think is more
profound than it seems at first, one that speaks to the connectedness of all of
us. Mark comes to my last open mic,
thoroughly impresses EVERYONE and is offered a gig as a result. That gig’s main act, having another engagement
to attend to, must bow out, and Mark is thrusted into a position where he can
give someone else an opportunity. That
short chain begins with me, and someone I don’t even know benefits from
it. This seems to be the great
serendipity of life.
Mark Jason performing at the last OMP. |
My start in St. Louis came about in a similar way. I had been meandering around town from open
mic to open mic for about 3 months, and in that time I had met a fellow open
mic officianado, Billy Croghan. At Luna
Lounge one night, where Billy was running his own open mic at the time, I was
picking his brain about booking gigs, a feat that was still outside my purview. It was then that Billy offered what would
become my first gig since college, first acoustic solo gig ever and the first
of my over 100 gigs in St. Louis. Billy
gave me 30 minutes to play his break at Tin Can, Morgan Ford.
That gig, on September 17th 2011, made all the
difference. It was in a very real way
the catalyst for everything I’ve done since.
My residencies, ArtWalk, my various bands, Open Mic @ Plush—the LBJ
experience in STL might have happened very differently, or not at all, had I
not befriended Billy Croghan and been given a shot to entertain with him.
So, I see this kind of collaboration as essential to
building lasting alliances and strong careers for musicians in our local scene,
especially those just starting out. It’s
important for us to help and develop one another, and one way we can do that is
by playing gigs together—those of us with experience giving opportunities to
those without.
A lot of folks wouldn’t want to offer a co-bill to a brand
new artist. Presumably, they have no
fans, no network. Presumably, they will
be shaky, unprofessional, make rooky mistakes. I can only imagine how my set at Billy’s gig must
have seemed to an onlooker. I brought a
total fan base of 1, my wife (then fiancée), Lindsey. I was sweaty and nervous and had an
underdeveloped stage persona. I forgot the
lyrics to one song and made different ones up on the spot. I was limited in my ability to respond to the
crowd.
Billy and I at the first SLSA showcase, Nov. 2011. |
But all of that was okay.
Billy could do all of those things, I was there to support and to get my
sea legs. It’s important that we provide
those opportunities for one another because few venues would hire a performer
like the sorry spectacle I proved to be at that gig. Folks like that would be confined to playing
short sets at open mics and long sets in front of the bedroom mirror, making
slow progress. But, the surest way to
become a truly skilled and magnetic performer is to play full sets in front of real
audiences. The time it takes to close
the gap between “okay” and “WOW” diminishes 100 fold when real crowd experience
comes into play.
Not to mention there can be benefits for the experienced
performer who lends a helping hand to a new comer. If my first stage (punning stage as a step in
a process and as a platform for performance…clever!) was getting gigs by the
kindness of strangers (I have a really cool song called Stranger, just fyi),
then my next stage was booking my own gigs that were populated almost entirely
by friends, family, and fans of the people who I gave an opportunity to play
with me.
You see, not all new performers are like I was when Billy
gave me a shot. I was new in town; the
only people I knew were my coworkers at Barnes and Noble and other
musicians. I couldn’t offer Billy a big
cadre of supporters. But, when Bob
McMahon played a middle set at my residency at Historic Crossroads, I saw yet
another application of that timeless promotional maxim, “People you know know
people you don’t.” Bob, who by his own
admission hadn’t played out in quite some time, filled the house at Historic
Crossroads. He brought with him a group
of people that would have otherwise not been exposed to my music, giving me an
opportunity to win their fandom.
Bob McMahon in a particularly red hoodie performing at our first gig together at Historic Crossroads, January 2012. |
So, offering a gig to a new-comer or a back-comer isn’t an
altruistic undertaking. It’s
cooperative. It’s mutually
beneficial. Chances are, this person has
been playing his or her music with a small yet adamant group of supporters
backing them the whole way. So offering
this new artist an opportunity is in itself an opportunity to reach a group of
people who might become your fans as well.
To some, this will no doubt seem cynical, but this will be the crowd who
mistakes it for selfishness. It is my
personal philosophy that the best possible arrangement is not for me to benefit
and you to suffer (selfishness) or for you to benefit and me to suffer
(altruism) but for you and I both to benefit (cooperation). After all, it’s not a zero-sum game. A person can remain your fan and become
mine. Let’s share!
There are several considerations when putting together a
bill, be it for a simple happy hour show, a showcase, or a bash like my friends
and I are throwing next Saturday. People
expect you to play with bands that are going for a similar sound or idea. Usually you’ll want to play with someone who’s
been grinding for a while and have something of a following. You want to play with people you enjoy
working with and being around. I would
ask that you add to your criteria people who have potential, people who need a
shot, people who need exposure. These
same folks might give you some unexpected exposure. But if not, you’ve made a new connection that
could enrich your life in ways yet unforeseen.
When you pay it forward, you never know when the good will might find its
way back to you.
It’s your scene.