Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Beware "The Promoter"!!
One thing I learned very early on in this business, is that Music Event Promoters and Agents are invaluable to the working musician, but require a fair amount of vetting, as there are a good number of them that are only in the business of promoting their bank balance... as well as their skill of rapid escape and reinvention of themselves in different locations as needed. Don't get me wrong, I've worked with many more hard working, honest ethical promoters than the "Crooks", but unfortunately, it's the later that leave the biggest mark!
It was the Summer of 2005, and our road schedule was pretty flush. We were excited about not only the shear number of dates, but the quality as well. We had managed to land several big dollar Corporate gigs, a good number of Fairs & Festivals that allowed us to route fairly easily on down the road hitting one at a time without a bunch of overland zig-zagging and more Rodeo dances than ever before... I should have been content with the schedule as it sat! RIGHT!!
In early June, I received a direct call from an Event Promoter attempting to book us for a "Last Minute" engagement for mid July. It was pitched as a "New 12,000 sq.ft. concert venue grand opening". Well, obviously I was very interested, and it just so happened the location (in Eastern Washington) was right on our routing plan for the next set of gigs!! WHAT LUCK!!
Well, there's a reason that over the last 4 or 5 centuries, great thinkers & learned scholars have coined little sayings like, "If it seems too good to be true...", "A fool and his money...", "Luck is foolishness gone right" or "Fool me once shame on you...", well you get the idea. The unfortunate thing here is I was more focused on that other old adage, "Never look a gift horse in the mouth"... Hmmmm! Funny how that works.
I did research this fella a bit and discovered he had been connected with several large Music Festivals and promotional events in the Northwest, and seemed legit. My investigation of the venue was a bit less informative as the web page just said "Coming Soon - Site Under Construction". I even went so far as to call the local Country Radio station, and they had heard "something is happening over there", but since we were dealing with a "Grand Opening", venue history was basically non-existant. With both feet we jumped!!
Long story short, after 4 or 5 back-and-forths with the "Promoter", we came to terms and contracted for 2 - 90 minute sets, 3 double rooms, meals and beverages for band & crew along with our standard tech rider at a bargain rate under $3000... Ultimately a HUGE BARGAIN!!
Well boys and girls, have you ever seen that movie "Crazy Heart" with Jeff Bridges? Remember the scene in the beginning when he rolls out of his Suburban, pants unbuttoned, beer bottles clankin' on the blacktop and he looks up and says, "S%#t, another f%$#@&g bowlin' alley...". Well, he stole my line, I said it first!! The only difference between the scene in the movie and my true life version, is in my experience, the marque out front read, "Senior League Tonight"... was I in the wrong place, did I get the date wrong, am I on candid camera, have I crossed over into The Twilight Zone... Nope!! I'm livin' the life of a Honky Tonk Man!! SHEESH!!!
After some lookin' around and askin' some sarcastic questions, we learned that we had arrived!! The first sign was the photocopied 8.5"x 11" hand written "Poster" on the bowling alley door that read, "Grand Opening July 12th, Bob Manning & The Honky Tonk Show - $20 at gate". As we went on in to inspect this "12,000 sq.ft. Concert Venue" we couldn't even locate a bandstand much less a concert venue. Eventually the gal working the "shoe counter" walked us through the snack bar and into a construction zone behind a wall of clear plastic with a sign affixed to it that reads "Pardon Our Dust". YEAH!! PARDON THE FEAR IN MY EYES! At this point I'm reminded of the website notice that said "under construction"... they were serious I chucked to myself!
Okay, with all of it said... I'm still okay!! I have a contract right? RIGHT!? Even though the ENTIRE bowling alley might be 12,000 sq.ft., and the partially completed "Concert Venue" might seat 100 people max, and the stage is still under construction, the sound system that was supposed to be in place in no where to be seen, the venue staff was unaware of the "Event" and there are wires hanging out of the ceiling where stage lights should be... I HAVE A CONTRACT!!
Well, let me tell ya, the 3 people that came to the show that night got the show of their life... I kept referring to it as their own "Private Little Party". The "Promoter" was there for about 30 minutes, just long enough to collect his $60 at the door and inform me that he was "headed to the office to get my check"... His office must be a long, long ways away, because I'm still waiting!! I think something horrible must have happened to him, because after that night his phone no longer worked and his address ceased to be... Gee, I hope he's okay!!
Ya know, as I look back at the whole affair, we still did our job! Yes, I had to pay the band out of my own shallow pockets, I got suckered into somebody's scam (or ill-conceived Venture), we got stuck paying for our own rooms and I fostered a good bit of rage for a few years, but when it's all boiled down... we collected another valuable experience courtesy of The Honky Tonk Trail!! In my mind, we don't do this for the money, OBVIOUSLY, we do this for the folks and the love of the music... the money just continues to feed the beast, and the beast has to eat!
And as a bonus... After the show I bowled a 241 while drinkin' beer and eatin' vending machine egg salad sandwiches!!! NOW THAT'S HONKY TONKIN"!!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Lessons Learned, Scars Earned
Well boys and girls, welcome to the first blog post of Bob Manning's Honky Tonk Trail. I'm not certain if this is going to be a daily thing or a weekly thing, but I'm sure I'll post something new when I have something to say.
My plans for this blog is to share thoughts, stories, ideas and hopefully some good 'ole country wisdom that I've gathered over the years while traveling around this country playin' my songs. In my 30 some years as an entertainer, I've met a lot 'o folks; seen a lot 'o things and put up with a bunch 'o crap from a lot 'o people... and every bit of it falls in line with my philosophy that "Life is nothing more than a constant collection of experiences, and the one with the most at the end wins". I've never been a good loser, so I try to collect as many experiences as possible. With this blog, I hope to share some of my experiences, and give y'all a little peek into the life, and mind, of a modern day Honky Tonk Man.
For my first entry, it only makes sense that I go back to the beginning. It was the Summer of 1981, and man what a Summer it was. I was 16 years old, playin' up-right bass in a really bad country/rockabilly band, enjoying my first car (1967 Plymouth Barracuda), dealing with the reality of my first girlfriend and livin' the life of a guitar playin' cowboy. It was, for me, the Summer of "Freedom".
Our little band, for which I've even forgotten the name, had played a couple gigs that Summer, but nothing of great consequence. One of those unremarkable shows was at a local Ford dealership during a live remote "Summer Sales Event" covered by the local Country Station. During the event, I became pretty chummy with one of the DJ's in an attempt to be "recognized" by local radio (I would love to know today what he REALLY thought of our music then... Haha!), and that ladies and gentleman was my first mistake.
It was later that Summer when I got the fated call. That local radio DJ called me in a panic, asking if I was available to "...fill in for a no-show bass player down at the fairgrounds". He also asked if I had a "bass guitar" as well the big upright? I told him I did, but it was nothing special (1970 Lyle Hollow Body sportin' some fancy black tape wound strings... complete with a green "Peace Sign" painted on the case) but I had one. He said, "Great, grab that guitar and get to the fairgrounds... you started 15 minutes ago". I told my mom I was headed to the fairgrounds to "sit in with a band" and off I went.
Now, let me explain somethin'. I was 16 years old, had been playing bass "guitar" for a couple months, and thought I was MUCH better than I was. So when I got he call, I was just a bit on the over confident side, because after all... the local radio personality called ME to bail this band out of a jam. HELP was on the way!! Uh-huh...
As I recall, my entrance at the fairgrounds was quite dramatic. I roared through the "Exhibitors Gate" in my 4 wheeled, midnight blue stallion with a fish on the grill, headed for the rodeo arena wielding my might 4 stringed ax... well, I did have to stop and explain why I was NOT just trying to "sneak" in the back gate like I had tried to do 100 other times, but eventually, the radio guy showed up waving his arms and yelling, "let him through, let him through!!". So I was off!!!
I was escorted to the side door of the rodeo arena and told, "hurry up... everybody's waiting, lets GO!!". Into the arena I strode, standing tall, walking briskly, packing my bass guitar with the peace sign on the case, to be met by the turning of 2000 heads and the gaze of 2000 sets of eyes... and an eager looking band who had taken their places behind an even more eager David Frizzell & Shelly West!! OH CRAP!! At this point I was handily accosted by 2 greazy, long haired neanderthal "roady" types who stripped me of my guitar, led me to the stage, told me where to stand, strapped & placed my guitar in my hands, slapped me on the back and said, "good luck little brother"
As my young, inexperienced, extremely overwhelmed mind was attempting to process everything that was happening, I heard the familiar clicking of drum sticks striking one another and a faint male voice, "One, Two, Three, Four" coming from the direction of the drummer, then another voice invaded my consciousness about 2 bars into the song saying, "Oklahoma, You're The Reason God Made Oklahoma... D, Key of D!". Instantly I was awake, aware, conscious of my surroundings and on the verge of throwing up. It was at this moment that I realized I only knew how to play 12 songs on the bass... and this wasn't one of them!!
Well, that first song was a complete disaster. I MAY have hit 2 or 3 of the right notes, but by the look on the stage managers face, that might be a bit kind. The reality of this little nightmare really hit home when the man himself, David Frizzell, turned to me and said, "come on son, pull your head out and play that thing". OH!! THAT HELPED!!
The next words that make contact with my ears are, "Silver Threads" (I still get a bit nauseated when I hear that song). It's probably not all together necessary to explain the fact that this song is a bit more difficult than the first one, but I will say that for a 16 year old kid that only knows 12 songs... "Silver Threads" is nothing short of nuclear physics to a 2nd Grader!! I made it half way through the first chorus with fumbling fingers and ALL the wrong notes before I violently unplugged my guitar, dropped the cable on the stage and ran out of the arena without my case, got in my car and drove home. Bad day!!
As I look back on that fated day, I can honestly say that was the beginning of my experience collecting in earnest. It impressed upon me several things that I hold absolutely true to this day.
Bob Manning
Bob Manning & The Honky Tonk Roadshow
http://www.nashville-west.com/
My plans for this blog is to share thoughts, stories, ideas and hopefully some good 'ole country wisdom that I've gathered over the years while traveling around this country playin' my songs. In my 30 some years as an entertainer, I've met a lot 'o folks; seen a lot 'o things and put up with a bunch 'o crap from a lot 'o people... and every bit of it falls in line with my philosophy that "Life is nothing more than a constant collection of experiences, and the one with the most at the end wins". I've never been a good loser, so I try to collect as many experiences as possible. With this blog, I hope to share some of my experiences, and give y'all a little peek into the life, and mind, of a modern day Honky Tonk Man.
For my first entry, it only makes sense that I go back to the beginning. It was the Summer of 1981, and man what a Summer it was. I was 16 years old, playin' up-right bass in a really bad country/rockabilly band, enjoying my first car (1967 Plymouth Barracuda), dealing with the reality of my first girlfriend and livin' the life of a guitar playin' cowboy. It was, for me, the Summer of "Freedom".
Our little band, for which I've even forgotten the name, had played a couple gigs that Summer, but nothing of great consequence. One of those unremarkable shows was at a local Ford dealership during a live remote "Summer Sales Event" covered by the local Country Station. During the event, I became pretty chummy with one of the DJ's in an attempt to be "recognized" by local radio (I would love to know today what he REALLY thought of our music then... Haha!), and that ladies and gentleman was my first mistake.
It was later that Summer when I got the fated call. That local radio DJ called me in a panic, asking if I was available to "...fill in for a no-show bass player down at the fairgrounds". He also asked if I had a "bass guitar" as well the big upright? I told him I did, but it was nothing special (1970 Lyle Hollow Body sportin' some fancy black tape wound strings... complete with a green "Peace Sign" painted on the case) but I had one. He said, "Great, grab that guitar and get to the fairgrounds... you started 15 minutes ago". I told my mom I was headed to the fairgrounds to "sit in with a band" and off I went.
Now, let me explain somethin'. I was 16 years old, had been playing bass "guitar" for a couple months, and thought I was MUCH better than I was. So when I got he call, I was just a bit on the over confident side, because after all... the local radio personality called ME to bail this band out of a jam. HELP was on the way!! Uh-huh...
As I recall, my entrance at the fairgrounds was quite dramatic. I roared through the "Exhibitors Gate" in my 4 wheeled, midnight blue stallion with a fish on the grill, headed for the rodeo arena wielding my might 4 stringed ax... well, I did have to stop and explain why I was NOT just trying to "sneak" in the back gate like I had tried to do 100 other times, but eventually, the radio guy showed up waving his arms and yelling, "let him through, let him through!!". So I was off!!!
I was escorted to the side door of the rodeo arena and told, "hurry up... everybody's waiting, lets GO!!". Into the arena I strode, standing tall, walking briskly, packing my bass guitar with the peace sign on the case, to be met by the turning of 2000 heads and the gaze of 2000 sets of eyes... and an eager looking band who had taken their places behind an even more eager David Frizzell & Shelly West!! OH CRAP!! At this point I was handily accosted by 2 greazy, long haired neanderthal "roady" types who stripped me of my guitar, led me to the stage, told me where to stand, strapped & placed my guitar in my hands, slapped me on the back and said, "good luck little brother"
As my young, inexperienced, extremely overwhelmed mind was attempting to process everything that was happening, I heard the familiar clicking of drum sticks striking one another and a faint male voice, "One, Two, Three, Four" coming from the direction of the drummer, then another voice invaded my consciousness about 2 bars into the song saying, "Oklahoma, You're The Reason God Made Oklahoma... D, Key of D!". Instantly I was awake, aware, conscious of my surroundings and on the verge of throwing up. It was at this moment that I realized I only knew how to play 12 songs on the bass... and this wasn't one of them!!
Well, that first song was a complete disaster. I MAY have hit 2 or 3 of the right notes, but by the look on the stage managers face, that might be a bit kind. The reality of this little nightmare really hit home when the man himself, David Frizzell, turned to me and said, "come on son, pull your head out and play that thing". OH!! THAT HELPED!!
The next words that make contact with my ears are, "Silver Threads" (I still get a bit nauseated when I hear that song). It's probably not all together necessary to explain the fact that this song is a bit more difficult than the first one, but I will say that for a 16 year old kid that only knows 12 songs... "Silver Threads" is nothing short of nuclear physics to a 2nd Grader!! I made it half way through the first chorus with fumbling fingers and ALL the wrong notes before I violently unplugged my guitar, dropped the cable on the stage and ran out of the arena without my case, got in my car and drove home. Bad day!!
As I look back on that fated day, I can honestly say that was the beginning of my experience collecting in earnest. It impressed upon me several things that I hold absolutely true to this day.
- You are NEVER as good as you think you are!
- Practice doesn't make perfect... but it'll get you through the rough spots.
- A "played with" credit is not always a good thing.
- EVERY experience we collect in life has value... even if it is a painful one.
- And... I STILL hate "Silver Threads & Golden Needles".
Bob Manning
Bob Manning & The Honky Tonk Roadshow
http://www.nashville-west.com/
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