Anatomy Of A Gig

It still astounds me to this day that people are visible riled to pay £4 to get in to a gig. Four bloody pounds. It is a symptom that seems  highly prevalent in the Indie crowd. Folk, Americana, Jazz and the like have crowds willing to pay for quality. But the culture in Indie / Rock has the money disappearing from all sides.

Last November Rhubarb Bomb organised a gig featuring a band we absolutely love. And right here I am going to pull apart the financial figures of that gig to show that no-one is making money out of this live music thing and that goodwill and love of it are the only things keeping it going.

When talking money it’s not too appropriate to mention the band by name, though many of you will know the details anyway and it’s not too hard to find. So I hope they won’t mind.

So, I booked this fantastic band. The Wakefield date was part of a quick three date tour, also including London and Liverpool. The band did not tour that often. They had never played Wakefield before and Leeds only twice in the last four years. Six months previously they had released their second album on a legendary record label and it had received amazing reviews across the board. They aren’t huge by any stretch but as responses on forums confirmed, they are an amazing live band who win followers wherever they go. Their music is accessible and upbeat, on the whole, and isn’t a million miles from the rather popular Indie-Pop bands that were / are seeing some success.

I paid them £250. I also put them up for the night at my house. I spent about £50 getting them a drinks rider, making them a vegetarian chilli and feeding them a fried breakfast in the morning.

I put the gig on at a city centre music venue. As a zine writer, I have good links with local venues and was thrilled that they let me use the venue and PA for FREE. This was essential in making the gig even close to being financially viable. On the whole, for a third party promoter, it is incredible difficult to not lose money when there is a room hire cost because the absolute majority of money made at a gig, by anyone, is across the bar.

The venue at that time had a capacity of 100 people. I spent around £30 on posters and flyers. The poster was designed for free by my girlfriend.

The support acts were not paid. As a matter of rule I believe support acts should always be paid. However, the support acts were friends of the band and were happy to waiver their fee to have their friends play in Wakefield. Also, they were releasing a split EP, so had a chance of making money from that.

So my total costs to put on the gig were:

Headliner: 250

Support Acts: 0

Room / PA Hire: 0

Riders: 50

Promotion: 30

Poster Design: 0

Accommodation: 0

My Fee: 0

Total: £330

I chose an entry fee of £4. This is what the venue would usually charge for a four band line-up of local artists. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that, with a capacity of just 100, I wasn’t going to be making any money from this. The only way to make my margins more attractive would be to either not promote it, or scrimp on the riders. A big thing for me when having a band visit is that they have a good time, think Wakefield is a good place to play, meaning they will hopefully come back. So neither was an option.

The night of the gig arrives. We’ve had some presales on See Tickets and across the bar of the venue. Excluding other band members etc, we sell around 50 tickets, so the venue is half full. People arrive to see the gig but when asked for £4 to get in, a couple look at me like I am basically asking politely for their watch, phone and car keys. Downstairs in the venue, a covers band is playing the usual shite. That is free entry.

With that sales figure on the door, let’s see how much everyone involved made from this gig:

Rhubarb Bomb: Lost £130. Promoted the gig and ran the door for free. Imagine if I’d have had to pay for the room or PA aswell?

Headliner: £250 plus merch sales. Split four ways. Minus £40 for petrol costs. Around £50 per person. They inevitably spend money on food and drink additional to the rider.

Band’s Driver: Free entry to the gig and a bit of vegetarian chilli.

Support Bands: Zero, plus some merch sales (the many costs of the record would fill another article, but it is safe to assume those sales amounted to about zero too)

The Soundman: £50 for the evening

The Venue: If we say, on average, every person bought two drinks at an average of £3 then the bar takings were a minimum of £300.

The Barman: £6.08 an hour for about four hours equals = £24.32

Poster Designer: Zero, free entry to gig.

Local Printers: £30 for poster printing

I am positive that when this person on the door hands over their £4 (or not…) they think it goes directly into my back pocket for a pissup later in the evening. The above shows the breadth of people having a financial interest in the gig.

Who does best out of it? Anyone connected with the venue comes out top, as their fee is guaranteed whatever happens. It shows why it is so hard as a third party promoter, even in this case where I was given the room for free.

Next on the ladder is the band themselves. £50 each – not bad? Actually, it’s pretty awful. This is a three date tour. Presuming other gigs run to a similar level that’s £150 a week. This is a band with two acclaimed albums under their belt, on a very well regarded label. That’s not enough to live off. What about additional tour costs of guitar strings breaking, equipment malfunctions, food and water between gigs, cleaning their clothes, toothpaste, taxis to accommodation, let alone something to have a party with after the show. How are they going to pay their rent, let alone find the money to pay for rehearsal spaces to write new songs, or for a studio to record them in?

The local printers is a chance beneficiary. Next on the ladder are the people working for free. The support act were happy to play for free and it is a good show in gaining new fans. But the show will end up costing them, in terms of getting to and from the gig, food and drink for the evening. On this occasion, the whole night was an excuse to have a good time with friends. So as a hobby type thing, it is fine. But it’s not the right kind of support network Rhubarb Bomb wants to create, so they lost out here.

And finally Rhubarb Bomb itself. This article may seem rather negative. Of course it is. But I want to note that this gig was one of the most fun I’ve put on. We had an amazing night. We took the band to Inns Of Court and the Pie Shop afterwards and then they came back to ours and we had a house party til 5am. It was properly one of the best nights I’ve had, with some brilliant people. So for that, it was worth every penny to me.

But looking at it from a position of cold hard logic, the zine lost £130. That’s maybe a third the cost of an issue. That’s a lot of begging for advertising. It’s also a lot of work for zero financial reward. It would make more sense for Rhubarb Bomb to just let the local venues put stuff on – as proper businesses they can take the hit. But can you really rely on your local venues to get those obscure but great bands you love to your town? Or is it the zines and the hobbyist promoters that see the possibility in something that is perhaps a bit riskier financially?

So my point is? Don’t be as obsessive as me, but when you are going to these smaller local gigs, think about where those few pounds you are asked for are going. Because, in an ideal world, it should be going directly to the people on stage, with any leftover going to the person who was willing to work for free to get em to your town. But more often than not, that simply isn’t the case.

And four pounds? It’s just over the cost of a pint. It’s less than the pizza / kebab you get at the end of the night. It’s less than a taxi fare. It’s half a cinema ticket. It’s a quarter of a theatre ticket. It’s a DVD rental from Blockbuster.

Or it’s three hours in a gig venue hearing some wonderful music from far, far away. It’s a way to keep live music going in your town. It couldn’t be easier.

Dean Freeman

The Amazing Spider-man

The Amazing Spider-Man

Director: Marc Webb

Like many, I felt this reboot had arrived far too early. Only ten years after the first instalment of the last trilogy is, quite frankly, ridiculous. It didn’t really help that the trailers seemed to play on the similarities more than anything – the swinging around New York, hanging upside down, doomed relationships and ‘great responsibility’. Same old, same old.

But it’s worth remembering that Spider-man was one of the early successes of the superhero genre now reaching saturation level. Only the original X-Men precedes it in this modern era and since the first Spider-man film Marvel have released 22 superhero films up to and including the recent Avengers. It would be fair to say, on the whole, the quality has improved, so perhaps Spider-man, with all Marvel have learnt, is once again fair game.

Whilst The Amazing Spider-Man doesn’t quite match the jump from Batman ’89 – ’97 to the Nolan trilogy (not does it try to), the differences are there, albeit in a lot more subtler form. It’s thankfully not taken the now predictable ‘darker’ route but has performed a similar trick to Batman Begins by at least making the world a lot more believable. The film could easily have been called Peter Parker, for it is he that is the real focus here.

The first half of the film is the definite winner, with the story progressing quickly without even a mention of the S word. Peter is that typically American hero of opposites: he’s a skateboarder but he’s really uncool, he’s a geek but gets the beautiful girl. But Andrew Garfield gets him spot on. He has the shy, slightly rude demure of a pubescent teenager, stuttering and grumbling in the face of authority like an emo Hugh Grant, all overly polite and painfully ignorant at the same time. There’s no angst here – at least, not yet – and at first the gaining of Spidey’s powers seems secondary to all else that is happening – a well thought out idea that makes Peter’s initial experimenting with his abilities believable and entertaining.

Naturally a ‘super-villain’ is required, as this IS a popcorn movie afterall. The Lizard initially seems a rather disappointing choice. Although Rhys Ifans performance as Dr Curt Connors is nicely low-key, the actual beast, once unleashed, is not so satisfying. As a villain for the opening of what will presumably be many more films, the ‘scientist gone mad’ cliché isn’t so strong, but within the context of the film, he plays an important role, akin to Scarecrow in Batman Begins. He is the right villain for the film, because of what we learn and what Spider-man learns about himself, despite this resulting in the story slipping into fairly well worn territory for the last third.

As Peter Parker fights The Lizard in his high school, it struck me that, stripped of all the history and expectation of the Marvel universe, this could have made a pretty decent ‘outsider comes good’ film akin to the ‘80s Teen Wolf. Such is the strength of the setup at the start, and of the characterisation. It doesn’t overblow it – there are still recognisable elements such as a battle on a bridge, Spidey trying to get a shot of a villain, and a Stan Lee cameo. But the last third brings in the usual ‘whole city in danger – who will save us?’ routine and it falls back on familiar ground which, with some kids under ten a few rows in front of me is, I guess, only right.

And the high school setting makes more sense to me than Spider-man as a photographer for the Daily Bugle (which isn’t even mentioned). Spider-man was always a bit of a cocky bastard and after seeing the reserved Peter take a beating from school bully Flash Thompson, you begin to see why he would be. And it’s perhaps as a film showing the transformation of a boy into a man that this works best. It isn’t far off being a great film in its own right – one compact story across one film. But of course, these things are ordered in trilogies now and it will be interesting to see how the series progresses and how much the angst is piled on.

Without the previous trilogy as a comparison this would likely be heralded as a great screen adaptation, with excellent performances, a confident pace, a strong narrative not reliant on set-pieces and a believable hero. But once that costume is put on, the feeling of déjà vu is inescapable, despite the excellent accomplishments elsewhere and the series may have to work harder on setting itself apart from Sam Raimi’s original vision.

Dean Freeman

Den Svenska by Hilary and The Democrats

Hillary And The Democrats

Den Svenska EP

Despite the title, Hillary And The Democrats are a four-piece from Liverpool; although there is a certain Nordic pop element in the mould of The Cardigans in evidence from the opening bars of the bouncy, jaunty opening track, Let’s Play Kubb.

Harry Nilsson has a playful almost Beach Boys swagger to it, while Vinaigrette moulds wilfully awkward lyrics and lovely bright guitar sounds to create a skilful, soaring, melodic, modern Mersey Beat track.

The EP closes in confident mood with Excuses, Excuses; if there was to be a soundtrack to summer 2012- should it ever arrive- these guys would be in the running for a place on it. Yes they’re a bit geeky and ever so cheerful, but this is the time and place for that, even if we haven’t got the weather for it!

Matt Rhodie

Oops! Helping Children Learn Accidentally by Hywel Roberts

Oops! Helping Children Learn Accidentally

Hywel Roberts

Independent Thinking Press

People of an artistic, creative leaning can sometimes find themselves travelling down the false avenue of working in the public sector. I know, for I am one such person. The draw of The Civil Service or Local Authority is that your time is spent trying to help people and for a soul full of joy and empathy such as mine, that is an important decision.

My experiences of such things have been rather negative as it turns out. I am not at liberty to divulge my current employer – not for matters of national security or anything so grand – but because I have been made aware that they employ a media / PR company, at vast cost to the taxpayer, to monitor all social media and related areas for ANY mention of their name. So if I mentioned them here, I would likely lose my job.

But like many that decide to work for the emergency services, I went in with the best intentions. It doesn’t take long to see that something has gone terribly wrong. Bureaucracy has run rampant. Structures of power are labyrinthine in complexity and there’s this vague idea that no-one knows what is happening. And the people who have been there the longest, people who in a private company would be treasured for their knowledge and experience, are soulless, defeated wrecks, the last of their passion, commitment and yes, empathy, long since drained.

I have a lot of friends and acquaintances that are teachers and it has become apparent from many of them that they see themselves as the fourth emergency service. What they are doing might not save lives but in fairness, it can make them a hell of a lot better. It has led to some uncomfortable (for me) biting of the lip but in a way, a more abstract way perhaps, what they do is equally important. At least, it should be. But as with my own experiences, it’s a profession ravaged by those in charge seemingly putting as many obstacles in the way as possible.

Oops! Helping Children Learn Accidentally is a book aimed at inspiring teachers. It’s not aimed at me but I’ve been forced to endure enough teacher chat to get a general gist of the challenges they face. Like others in the public sector, it is a calling that has very idealistic origins. Like a paramedic that just wants to save lives or a police officer who wants to make their community a safer place. The harsh reality is that, for paramedics, a lot of people you see are drunks or timewasters. For police officers you may spend as much time behind your desk as out on the beat. And for teachers, it seems, it is the dull rigidity of the curriculum and a bizarre, counter creative inspection culture that can paralyse their efforts.

This book makes clear the unique and vital position teachers hold. The mass monolithic beast of state control is less of an all consuming worry because, when it comes down to it, there are just two groups of people in the classroom: teachers and kids. And rather than let the sometimes negative aspects of the whole setup get you down, this book hammers home that you can take control yourself and really make a difference.

Oops!  is a thoroughly engaging read: no heavy academia or dry, endless essaying. For the academics out there, it makes enough references to works such as Mantle Of The Expert but on the whole the style is dictated by its author and his very personal (and personable) view of his profession.

Having worked in all manner of schools, Hywel has braved the world of freelancing as a method to pass on his experiences and enlightening view of teaching. That’s a thing that requires a great strength of personality, and that shines through with his honesty (worries that keep him awake at night), humility (his own mistakes and how he learned from them) and humour (numerous references to his favourite film, Jaws).

Some of it is refreshingly basic. “Smile at your pupils” is one such example. As it progresses it looks at other ways of engaging children, using a lure to ‘trick’ them into learning. The intro nails it best: “Good teachers are great liars.” But it is the creation of these false realities that get the kids thinking without realising. The book is full of cunning ruses that always raise a smile. It made me think back to my own school days and the teachers who I can now see were employing similar things. It goes without saying, those are the teachers I remember and the lessons I enjoyed most.

Of course, I am not a reliable source to explain how good a teaching aid this is. But I can say that if I were a pupil, this is how I would want teachers to engage with me. It’s a truly inspiring read, championing positivity, creativity and passion which will appeal to teachers just starting out, or those that feel they’ve lost their spark. The structure is sharp: short condensed sections and paragraphs passing simple ideas and anecdotes, lots of quick lists and examples, things to try. Best of all, I think it makes you take along hard look at yourself and your place amongst your peers. That works in any profession or organisation. Are you a shadow or a face? Are you a radiator or a drain? How do you need to change to get to where you want to be?

A teaching aid that is actually enjoyable is not something I expected I would ever read. It is very much a book for those with a key interest in teaching but to return to my opening points and thus conclude this review in an efficient manner, the purity of the ideas here and their relation to an unfairly criticised profession ring true in wider circles. If the comparison weren’t so violent, Hywel would be the Dirty Harry type character, arriving in your backwards, demoralised workplace and cleaning up the corruption and the mismanagement and instilling some belief in people who initially signed up for some incredible noble reasons. The person you want to be, but for some reason can’t. Why not?

In fact, more appropriately: Hywel Roberts is to teaching what Batman is to crimefighting. He doesn’t have any super powers or any easy answers. He’s just a man with a whole load of tricks and ideas and a sense of what is proper and right. And the kids love him. Strongly recommended to all teachers out there, the perfect way to refuel your enthusiasm, rediscover your direction, and learn something new about yourself whilst you’re at it.

Dean Freeman

Runaround Kids vs We Are Losers EP

Runaround Kids / We Are Losers

Runaround Kids vs We Are Losers

Philophobia Music

A split 12” vinyl featuring Philophobia flagship band Runaround Kids (this is their 5^th PHOP release) and label newcomers We Are Losers, who are based in Ireland, this is a nicely balanced EP, showcasing the best elements of both bands.

Those following Runaround Kids ambitious cross medium release schedule for 2012 will not find anything here as immediate and head turningly defiant as their standalone You’d Feel The Same or Undress which appeared on Rhubarb Bomb’s own compilation a few months back. In fact the most striking song here is their cover of We Are Losers’ The Narcassist, with its punkier, simpler structure and dirgy guitar walls all sitting under a group vocal refrain.

If anything, their own songs hark back to their pre-album days of simpler structures, the songs developing more in waves than patterns and with any deeper sense of pathos (see I Tried or Last July from their Linked Arms album) largely absent. Lesser Loved gives a suggestion of this with its mid song sigh of “Cling to me so desperately, coz I’m lost.” It’s neither here nor there as a good or bad thing – they’ve picked the right tracks for singles and the right tracks for the EP - but it suggests the band are focussing on the live element of their show and on producing records that accurately reflect that. With every instrument seemingly ramped to the max, these tracks certainly purvey that exceptional energy, a desperation expressed through more aggressive vocal stylings, like one screaming at the summer sun (which so coated their debut album) in an attempt to stop the season ending.

We Are Losers mix a hazy, lazy afternoon vibe with a similarly buoyant live enthusiasm, so it seems apt their cover of an RKs track is an acoustic version of Can’t Lose Lover (complete with whistling solo).

Their own works are anthemic and supremely poppy without even slightly sucking. It’s a trickier thing to pull off than you might think. Talk is all long-drawn arm in the air choruses, a sincerity evident in the knowing naivity tied to its circling and catchy refrains. We Vampires could easily be the work of a different band were it not for the pop sensibility shining through once more. Calypso rhythms, hand claps and a fair amount of Ooo Ooo’s make this rather a jaunty number and in fairly sharp contrast to the RKs side of the record.

It makes sense that this EP was launched with both bands touring together as, despite the bands being pretty different, all the songs here clearly relate directly to the live experience. Production is unfussy and focuses on the raw essence of the songs. If I’d bought this after seeing the tour, I would be very happy with what I got. Equally, picking up this EP will definitely push you into seeing the bands live.

It’s also great that Philophobia is looking outwards to add talent to its roster. We Are Losers clearly share a lot with a range of PHOP bands, in particularly a hardcore passion hung over deceptively poppy songs. As the fanbases of RKs and WAL are very likely to be two separate entities, at least prior to the tour, both will be incredibly pleased with the songs they know, and will also have found a new favourite band on the flipside.

Dean Freeman

The Social Network vs The Human Network

It’s an unhappy coincidence that a lot of people I know happen to be teachers. Close friends, old friends, partners of friends… It feels like if I dialled a wrong number I’d get through to a school these days.

Why is that a problem? Well, they like to talk about it don’t they. An awful lot. Which is tricky, because to see people so passionate about what they do is admirable, and in most other cases would be contagious too. But in this one it just isn’t. Quite possibly, it is because my job is terribly dull so I don’t like to hear others talk about theirs. Perhaps if I delve deeper, some form of jealousy or even guilt arises. I’m not sure. All I know is that, on the surface, a certain percent of my social time is taken up avoiding that subject.

This attack on teachers, and good friends of mine, is not to make any direct point about the profession, but instead about the human network and my personal place within it. My girlfriend could make the exact same claim about being part of the musical network through my connection to Rhubarb Bomb - something she never asked for, yet is forced to contend with every day. This human network is what takes place in our real, day to day lives. The people we see and spend our time with. The antithesis of this is the social network.

Social networking is a phenomena that has eradicated the previously worrisome detail of geography and instead brought into focus our interests, wants, concerns and beliefs. Facebook is flawed, currently, because it is built upon the idea of friends keeping in touch. This ends up with the inevitable guilt connected with deciding whether to cull that person you’ve not spoke to in five years, but you once worked in a sandwich shop with and had a great laugh and – who knows? – you might bump into them. Twitter, which is instead built around the idea of sharing knowledge, news, gossip and wisdom amongst people with similar interest and understanding, is a far more accurate expression of who we are and what we want to do. I also think it is the piece of technology that points most towards the future

The human network is an odd mix of the two. Part shared interest, part routine. Taking the teaching example, I clearly have an above average amount of them as acquaintances. That could be down to whole range of factors: class, social standing, the quality of the schools in the area… I’ve tried to figure it out and I’m not sure. My only inkling is that I come from a generation with little to aspire to in terms of set career pathways. We’ve been encouraged to aspire for more, but then someone forgot to make things worth aspiring to. Hence, a lot of clever, aspirational people end up as teaching because nothing else came along.

Whatever the reason, I am part of a network of people who are part of a profession that doesn’t interest me. And because of the personal ties, I can’t break that connection. I can’t ‘unlike’ teaching. It’s part of my life. To which you might say “big deal” and you know what? I say that too.

But I had a rather terrible vision of the future last week. I was at a charity gala at a very busy country pub. It was a lovely sunny day with all manner of people stood around drinking, chatting and having fun. We managed to find some seats around the back of the pub, close to a bouncy castle setup for the kids. I often forget I’m not in my early twenties any longer, but I looked upon these adults, all a lot younger than me, all with children in tow. Either crying, or running away, or spilling something, or shitting themselves, or falling over, or demanding something, or wiping their hands on me. And I suddenly realised this was my future. Because regardless of which path  I choose in relation to breeding (currently FIRMLY in the ‘no’ camp) this will be inflicted upon me by the majority of the people that are part of my share of the human network.

I would rather hear about government inspections and Key Stage 3 thingbobs til the end of time than be forced to coo over somebody’s newly hatched youngling. I can be happy for them when it arrives, just like I am happy when someone gets a new job and wins a holiday. I just don’t want every detail forced upon me. But it shall be because we are intertwined. I can’t face it, it’ll ruin everything.

To be fair, the onset of parenthood will likely remove them from my immediate circle anyway. For about 21 years. And that is the flaw with the human network. Your life is completely out of your hands.

Hence the attraction of the social network. It’s clear now in the compartmentalisation of much of our society. Every genre of music has its own digital station. Every niche cultural expression has its own channel. Social networking allows us to smokescreen any part of life we don’t agree with. We can block it out and slowly thicken up the walls of our own bubble.

And I think, in the long term, that is a more frightening concept. It will make us less accepting of people who think different to ourselves. It will limit, not expand, the range of places from which we receive the information that forms our ideas. Geographical boundaries may crumble, but idealistic ones will rise higher and higher. The human network and the social network will become more incompatible as we struggle to marry the signals we are getting from both.

The above example of my fear of my life being taken away by hoards of rampaging little consumers will lead me to the seeming utopia of a social network where everyone thinks the same as me, and gets all the in jokes and shares in my pessimisms. That is why they have taken off in the last ten years to such a degree. The lie is that Social Networking is an expression of a global society but that’s not true: it’s an antidote to it. Couple that with the fact that human beings are complicated and an awful lot of hard work at the best of times, whilst social networking is just so damn easy, and you get that social networking is simply an escape from reality. No, it’s more than that. It’s not escaping reality, it’s reality altering, in a possibly very destructive way.

But the ease of it: that’s why I think the social network will ultimately win out and that’s how society will radically change in the next fifty years. But for me, as unpleasant as some aspects of the human network are, they contain something incredibly important; the unknown. I may have to put up with every school term being ‘a really difficult one’ and with only ever seeing my friends when they can get a sitter but hey, least I’m seeing a different aspect to life. I’m expanding my outlook, testing my stubborn beliefs. I’m seeing things from other people’s perspectives. I’m accepting I don’t have all the answers. And if not all that, at least I’ve got something to react against.

Dean Freeman

The Bomb EP by Robert Vincent

Robert Vincent

The Bomb EP

The Bomb EP offers a tantalising glimpse of Robert Vincent’s potential; he offers a poignant, frank view of the world through his fairly traditional, country-tinged song writing.

He creates some pretty bleak images in The Bomb and November, yet his writing also retains both a sense of humour and perspective; it’s all about the song and while he doesn’t waste time with extraneous over-production. There are some lovely touches in the mix- rich guitars and a ticking clock merge to reinforce The Bomb’s message, and the well deployed harmonica and sad, almost locomotive drumming on November evoke the wide plains and broken dreams of America’s depression era, like the soundtrack to a hobo love story!

Vincent says he knew he wanted to be a rock star at five years old and, living the life of a working band member since leaving school, he has endured personal and professional setbacks. Now he has finally arrived at the brink of achieving his aim through simply writing and performing the songs he wants to; I hope his self-belief and faith in the power of dreams pays off, because it means there’s hope for all of us!

22^Nd July sees the release of his next single, My Pill, a version of which is the closing track of this EP. Both are available from his website, why not have a look?

Matt Rhodie