Wednesday, July 02, 2003
SHAKING DOWN KIDS FOR THEIR LUNCH MONEY
The advertisement on page A19 of the June 26 edition of the New York Times screamed this headline in big block letters:
NEXT TIME YOU OR YOUR KIDS 'SHARE' MUSIC ON THE INTERNET, YOU MAY ALSO WANT TO DOWNLOAD A LIST OF ATTORNEYS.
Well, I would certainly call that threatening, wouldn't you? It's the latest volley in a synchronized effort to head off the rising tide of music piracy over the internet. Nothing else has worked, not running Napster out of business, not acts of Congress, not education, not legal rulings. As record sales shrink to 15-year lows, the music industry, led by the Recording Industry Association of America, or RIAA (they do the Grammies), are bringing out the big guns in one last all-out fight to the finish. It sort of reminds me of the end scene of the movie "Scarface", where Al Pacino brings out this grenade launcher and shouts, "Say hello to my little friend!" He's able to kill lots of people at once, but there's one tiny little problem:
He gets shot in the back by a lone sniper and falls headlong into his inside swimming pool to his death, the water turning red the moment he splashes in (I always liked that touch).
Well, my prediction is that's what is going to happen to the recording industry, even with the very real, very doable threat of essentially prosecuting teenagers and college students, even upstanding model parents. Even if this isn't merely a scare tactic (and probably a very good one - I've already talked to several of my criminal pirate friends and they've indicated they are on to other amusements) and even if it does produce the desired effect (less piracy, more sales) it's not going to save the industry. As history has proven, when new technology arrives, it usually changes the playing field around it. The printing press, the telegraph, moving pictures, the phonograph, radio, television - all new technology provides new opportunities and most importantly, renders even the most stable of industries irrelevant, no matter how inconceivable that might seem at the time, unless said industry can speculate correctly on how to use the new technology to its advantage. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
First, though, let me say a few words about internet piracy itself, from my perspective. I myself have never pirated a song online. Personally, scofflaws kind of bug me - in a law and order, three strikes you're out world, I'm increasingly perturbed by those who flout traffic laws for no other reason than they can get away with it. On the other hand, I haven't bought a new release CD in about three or four years. I'm not contributing to either the problem or the solution. I am, you might say, a non-entity as a consumer. Not to say that I don't harbor some interest in the outcome. I've spent the better part of 20 years in a band, aspiring to be a member of the good part of the industry, you know, the part where you amass riches, but that has been mainly a quixiotic quest. Not that I've given up, no sir. In fact, what interests me the most in this situation is how I might be able to take advantage of it, in a legal market-driven way, for my own purposes, however selfish they may be. But for now, let's just say that I am a detatched observer.
And I'm not necessarily saying that what the RIAA is doing is bad, or wrong, or bull-headed (well, maybe a little of that). The recording industry is one of those amazing success stories that not only owes its life to technological change, but has repeatedly thrived on numerous succeeding changes. In fact, the biggest spike to the industry came with the invention of compact discs. CD's ushered in a period of growth almost staggering in its longevity and resilience. But that period of growth, almost 20 years, has come to an equally staggering halt. CD sales are down, way down, in the last two years, to almost pre-CD levels. When you support such a huge network of artists and musicians as the recording industry does, when these artists and musicians are almost wholly dependent on the industry for their livelihood, and vice versa, then you bet your life (literally) that you're going to do your best to identify the problem and attack it. And you cannot fault anyone involved for this type of action, a last ditch desperate action. Everyone, from top to bottom, has a stake in it.
That said, I'm not particularly rooting for the RIAA either, nor am I impressed by their rhetoric. If the end result of the industry's brainstorming is to institute the equivalent of the schoolyard bully shaking down kids for their lunch money, then I know that the extent of this straw-grasping is to cover up a more insidious reason for the downturn of fortune - the industry, bloated with arrogance and myopia (along with avarice and greed), has simply flat out blown it. They miscalculated the extent of the threat, they have speculated wrongly on market trends, and for all their talk about developing and protecting artists, helm an art world almost completely devoid of compelling figures.
But it's not enough to just allege this. After all, I'm just a bitter crank, right? If I had a real stake in the business, I wouldn't be saying this would I? Perhaps I should go to the RIAA web site and find out what this is really all about, right? After all, the industry would lie to me, right? They would present facts and testimonials that back up their philosophy and make me understand better the gravity of the issue. Done and done. Let's take a look.
And what better way to find out about music piracy than to consult the RIAA Press Room and dial up the page labeled "Some Facts About Music Piracy." And yes there are plenty of facts:
"Computer users illegally download more than 2.6 billion copyrighted files (mostly songs) every month."
"As of July 2002, Kazaa boasted 100 million registered users."
"North American sales of blank CDs shot up by more than 30% in 2002 --outstripping sales of music CDs by a more than 2-to-1 margin."
Also included is poll result that says consumers indicate that they are downloading more and buying less, and that teenagers especially download because of the ability to get music for free.
My reponse to this is - so what? I don't know if the recording industry has noticed but just about every business that relies on disposable income, from gambling to tourism to air travel, you name it, has fallen dramatically in the last two years - a consequence of massive layoffs and the 9/11 terrorist bombings. What makes the RIAA think it's so special? Sure, if you can get it for free, why not? People very rarely stop at stop signs either, if they don't have to. So although these are truly facts about music piracy, they don't necessarily prove a link between the piracy itself and shrinking sales, although it obviously accounts for a certain percentage. However, that percentage is completely unknown and it's highly doubtful it could be proven.
And those are just the music piracy facts. On the same page the RIAA throws out several other facts, not a one of them having anything to do with piracy, but useful nonetheless:
"The music industry worldwide has gone from a $39 billion industry in 2000 down to a $32 billion industry in 2002 (based on U.S. dollar value of shipments)."
"Releasing an album with major distribution costs a record label at least $1 million; of the thousands of new titles released each year by major labels, fewer than 10% are profitable."
While having absolutely nothing to do with online piracy, these figures show the scope and breadth of just what a humongously inefficient industry we're looking at. One million bucks for a new release, huh? And you can only get one in ten to be profitable? Sounds to me like the problem here is not one of stealing music, it's one of picking the wrong talent. To be considered a good hitter in baseball, you can fail at least seven times out of ten. But fail nine times out of ten and you won't be getting too many more chances. This is the deal, even before the internet the hit to miss ratio was this low. And it generally had nothing to do with the nine misses being complete failures - it had more to do with throwing all the support and resources behind the one perceived hit and standing all the rest at the altar. This has always been how the industry operated. Go find the story on Mary's Danish, if you want to wretch over band-busting business practices. And they actually had a hit record.
Besides, what then to make of all the kid bands trekking across the country, with little to no resources, surviving if not thriving at their art, selling so few units as to even be on anyone's radar? This is what you might call the Warped Tour model. I was on the tour, back in 2001, and I saw these kids, saw how they were living, what they had to go through. Hell, I was those kids for a month and it about killed me. But it works. And they do it on less than a thousand dollars, let alone a million. So what gives? This is an example of not speculating correctly - here is a much more cost efficient model that seems to produce a much higher ratio of hits. Yet, the recording industry seems to insist on bloated advances and incomprehensible accounting as a better model (all those "weasels" have to be paid you know). (For the record, I have some problems with the Warped Tour model, in particular the flattening of talent and the fact that it rewards marketing over performance, but I will address this issue at a later date)
But let's move on. The RIAA has more than "facts" at its disposal. It has a whole cadre of dependent children, well okay, artists (who have children) who can be counted on to provide emotional and sympathetic testimonials concerning the possible dissolution of their profession. It's hard to argue with this, and not all of the testimonials are full of crap. When you get to Mike Negra, president of Mike's Video, and read how music piracy (allegedly) has reduced sales at his store by "80%", it does give you pause. (However, I'm still wondering where they get their figures)
But after you read about a dozen or so, you see two assertions stick out like sore thumbs, and they go like this:
"Artists deserve to be compensated for their work."
"When artists no longer get compensated, there will be no art because no one will put the effort forth to do it."
Yikes! Where to begin on this? First of all, let's get one thing straight - every artist everywhere, in the course of pursuing their dream (of riches) has, in effect, "given it away." Either in the form of a free performance or a demo recording or what have you, every artist or musician at one point or another has received little to no compensation for their work. To get compensation an artist must create value for their work. How easy is this? The answer is: virtually impossible. That's the trick, geez, duh. Create value for your work, sell it, and you may just be able to make a living. However, realize this - no artist is entitled to any kind of compensation, at any time. This includes artists that have received it for more years than they could possibly remember. How about all those silent film stars, huh? When the talkies came most of them were shit out of luck, weren't they? Yes, well, this is a bit different, they say. If there was no interest in the work, why would people bother to steal it? I don't know, probably for the same reason they watch TV or listen to the radio - it's easy and it's free. Ironically, piracy can actually give an artist value (if they have none to start) by exposing it to areas the artist cannot physically reach. The point is, nothing is easy, and if the argument is that "well, it's always been like this and I deserve to keep getting paychecks for work I did 20 years ago, even though I have done nothing of value since" then I'm sorry. Do what I did. Go back to college and get a degree and try and find a job. Yes, it's a little frightening and humiliating, but it's what the rest of the working world has been forced to do in the past couple of years, and you're not implying that you are better or different than the rest of us because you're an artist, are you? Either that or start producing something that has current value.
And as for the assertion: no compensation, no artists - please, there's enough of us poverty-level artists that will be more than happy to continue doing what we do for squat. Here's an idea - go out and host an open mike at the local expresso bar for a year or two. You won't get paid, but you'll get the tremendous feeling of doing something purely artistic and you'll be helping along others in their artistic quest. And besides, what makes you think that a whole new generation of artists that do understand the current technology, that are making money, that aren't tied to the hip of a decaying behemoth of an industry, has not already arisen to take your job away from you? My theory is that to make it in the new world of advancing technology, you will have to have something a little more than a slick recording, perhaps something that is not inherently downloadable. This might be a live act, or a colorful history, or a propensity for excelling in more than one form of media. In other words, you have to stay one step ahead of the game. These artists providing testimonials are betting everything that the RIAA, ASCAP and all the others with a massive stake in this game can get everything back up to snuff. What they should be doing is looking for other venues.
Besides, the no compensation, no artists argument has been an issue since the days of our Founding Fathers. That's why there are copyright laws, that's why Disney and others fought so hard to extend the laws for 20 more years, to protect this certain way of artistic compensation. So part of the law is about protecting artists, but another part is just flat out greed. But technology doesn't listen to laws and has no affinity for borders. Being caught flat-footed is a bugbear that has sent many a successful venture down the tubes into oblivion. The recording industry is not immune to this and they can sue the pants off of every citizen in the world, but it ain't going to bring back The Beatles.
The advertisement on page A19 of the June 26 edition of the New York Times screamed this headline in big block letters:
NEXT TIME YOU OR YOUR KIDS 'SHARE' MUSIC ON THE INTERNET, YOU MAY ALSO WANT TO DOWNLOAD A LIST OF ATTORNEYS.
Well, I would certainly call that threatening, wouldn't you? It's the latest volley in a synchronized effort to head off the rising tide of music piracy over the internet. Nothing else has worked, not running Napster out of business, not acts of Congress, not education, not legal rulings. As record sales shrink to 15-year lows, the music industry, led by the Recording Industry Association of America, or RIAA (they do the Grammies), are bringing out the big guns in one last all-out fight to the finish. It sort of reminds me of the end scene of the movie "Scarface", where Al Pacino brings out this grenade launcher and shouts, "Say hello to my little friend!" He's able to kill lots of people at once, but there's one tiny little problem:
He gets shot in the back by a lone sniper and falls headlong into his inside swimming pool to his death, the water turning red the moment he splashes in (I always liked that touch).
Well, my prediction is that's what is going to happen to the recording industry, even with the very real, very doable threat of essentially prosecuting teenagers and college students, even upstanding model parents. Even if this isn't merely a scare tactic (and probably a very good one - I've already talked to several of my criminal pirate friends and they've indicated they are on to other amusements) and even if it does produce the desired effect (less piracy, more sales) it's not going to save the industry. As history has proven, when new technology arrives, it usually changes the playing field around it. The printing press, the telegraph, moving pictures, the phonograph, radio, television - all new technology provides new opportunities and most importantly, renders even the most stable of industries irrelevant, no matter how inconceivable that might seem at the time, unless said industry can speculate correctly on how to use the new technology to its advantage. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
First, though, let me say a few words about internet piracy itself, from my perspective. I myself have never pirated a song online. Personally, scofflaws kind of bug me - in a law and order, three strikes you're out world, I'm increasingly perturbed by those who flout traffic laws for no other reason than they can get away with it. On the other hand, I haven't bought a new release CD in about three or four years. I'm not contributing to either the problem or the solution. I am, you might say, a non-entity as a consumer. Not to say that I don't harbor some interest in the outcome. I've spent the better part of 20 years in a band, aspiring to be a member of the good part of the industry, you know, the part where you amass riches, but that has been mainly a quixiotic quest. Not that I've given up, no sir. In fact, what interests me the most in this situation is how I might be able to take advantage of it, in a legal market-driven way, for my own purposes, however selfish they may be. But for now, let's just say that I am a detatched observer.
And I'm not necessarily saying that what the RIAA is doing is bad, or wrong, or bull-headed (well, maybe a little of that). The recording industry is one of those amazing success stories that not only owes its life to technological change, but has repeatedly thrived on numerous succeeding changes. In fact, the biggest spike to the industry came with the invention of compact discs. CD's ushered in a period of growth almost staggering in its longevity and resilience. But that period of growth, almost 20 years, has come to an equally staggering halt. CD sales are down, way down, in the last two years, to almost pre-CD levels. When you support such a huge network of artists and musicians as the recording industry does, when these artists and musicians are almost wholly dependent on the industry for their livelihood, and vice versa, then you bet your life (literally) that you're going to do your best to identify the problem and attack it. And you cannot fault anyone involved for this type of action, a last ditch desperate action. Everyone, from top to bottom, has a stake in it.
That said, I'm not particularly rooting for the RIAA either, nor am I impressed by their rhetoric. If the end result of the industry's brainstorming is to institute the equivalent of the schoolyard bully shaking down kids for their lunch money, then I know that the extent of this straw-grasping is to cover up a more insidious reason for the downturn of fortune - the industry, bloated with arrogance and myopia (along with avarice and greed), has simply flat out blown it. They miscalculated the extent of the threat, they have speculated wrongly on market trends, and for all their talk about developing and protecting artists, helm an art world almost completely devoid of compelling figures.
But it's not enough to just allege this. After all, I'm just a bitter crank, right? If I had a real stake in the business, I wouldn't be saying this would I? Perhaps I should go to the RIAA web site and find out what this is really all about, right? After all, the industry would lie to me, right? They would present facts and testimonials that back up their philosophy and make me understand better the gravity of the issue. Done and done. Let's take a look.
And what better way to find out about music piracy than to consult the RIAA Press Room and dial up the page labeled "Some Facts About Music Piracy." And yes there are plenty of facts:
"Computer users illegally download more than 2.6 billion copyrighted files (mostly songs) every month."
"As of July 2002, Kazaa boasted 100 million registered users."
"North American sales of blank CDs shot up by more than 30% in 2002 --outstripping sales of music CDs by a more than 2-to-1 margin."
Also included is poll result that says consumers indicate that they are downloading more and buying less, and that teenagers especially download because of the ability to get music for free.
My reponse to this is - so what? I don't know if the recording industry has noticed but just about every business that relies on disposable income, from gambling to tourism to air travel, you name it, has fallen dramatically in the last two years - a consequence of massive layoffs and the 9/11 terrorist bombings. What makes the RIAA think it's so special? Sure, if you can get it for free, why not? People very rarely stop at stop signs either, if they don't have to. So although these are truly facts about music piracy, they don't necessarily prove a link between the piracy itself and shrinking sales, although it obviously accounts for a certain percentage. However, that percentage is completely unknown and it's highly doubtful it could be proven.
And those are just the music piracy facts. On the same page the RIAA throws out several other facts, not a one of them having anything to do with piracy, but useful nonetheless:
"The music industry worldwide has gone from a $39 billion industry in 2000 down to a $32 billion industry in 2002 (based on U.S. dollar value of shipments)."
"Releasing an album with major distribution costs a record label at least $1 million; of the thousands of new titles released each year by major labels, fewer than 10% are profitable."
While having absolutely nothing to do with online piracy, these figures show the scope and breadth of just what a humongously inefficient industry we're looking at. One million bucks for a new release, huh? And you can only get one in ten to be profitable? Sounds to me like the problem here is not one of stealing music, it's one of picking the wrong talent. To be considered a good hitter in baseball, you can fail at least seven times out of ten. But fail nine times out of ten and you won't be getting too many more chances. This is the deal, even before the internet the hit to miss ratio was this low. And it generally had nothing to do with the nine misses being complete failures - it had more to do with throwing all the support and resources behind the one perceived hit and standing all the rest at the altar. This has always been how the industry operated. Go find the story on Mary's Danish, if you want to wretch over band-busting business practices. And they actually had a hit record.
Besides, what then to make of all the kid bands trekking across the country, with little to no resources, surviving if not thriving at their art, selling so few units as to even be on anyone's radar? This is what you might call the Warped Tour model. I was on the tour, back in 2001, and I saw these kids, saw how they were living, what they had to go through. Hell, I was those kids for a month and it about killed me. But it works. And they do it on less than a thousand dollars, let alone a million. So what gives? This is an example of not speculating correctly - here is a much more cost efficient model that seems to produce a much higher ratio of hits. Yet, the recording industry seems to insist on bloated advances and incomprehensible accounting as a better model (all those "weasels" have to be paid you know). (For the record, I have some problems with the Warped Tour model, in particular the flattening of talent and the fact that it rewards marketing over performance, but I will address this issue at a later date)
But let's move on. The RIAA has more than "facts" at its disposal. It has a whole cadre of dependent children, well okay, artists (who have children) who can be counted on to provide emotional and sympathetic testimonials concerning the possible dissolution of their profession. It's hard to argue with this, and not all of the testimonials are full of crap. When you get to Mike Negra, president of Mike's Video, and read how music piracy (allegedly) has reduced sales at his store by "80%", it does give you pause. (However, I'm still wondering where they get their figures)
But after you read about a dozen or so, you see two assertions stick out like sore thumbs, and they go like this:
"Artists deserve to be compensated for their work."
"When artists no longer get compensated, there will be no art because no one will put the effort forth to do it."
Yikes! Where to begin on this? First of all, let's get one thing straight - every artist everywhere, in the course of pursuing their dream (of riches) has, in effect, "given it away." Either in the form of a free performance or a demo recording or what have you, every artist or musician at one point or another has received little to no compensation for their work. To get compensation an artist must create value for their work. How easy is this? The answer is: virtually impossible. That's the trick, geez, duh. Create value for your work, sell it, and you may just be able to make a living. However, realize this - no artist is entitled to any kind of compensation, at any time. This includes artists that have received it for more years than they could possibly remember. How about all those silent film stars, huh? When the talkies came most of them were shit out of luck, weren't they? Yes, well, this is a bit different, they say. If there was no interest in the work, why would people bother to steal it? I don't know, probably for the same reason they watch TV or listen to the radio - it's easy and it's free. Ironically, piracy can actually give an artist value (if they have none to start) by exposing it to areas the artist cannot physically reach. The point is, nothing is easy, and if the argument is that "well, it's always been like this and I deserve to keep getting paychecks for work I did 20 years ago, even though I have done nothing of value since" then I'm sorry. Do what I did. Go back to college and get a degree and try and find a job. Yes, it's a little frightening and humiliating, but it's what the rest of the working world has been forced to do in the past couple of years, and you're not implying that you are better or different than the rest of us because you're an artist, are you? Either that or start producing something that has current value.
And as for the assertion: no compensation, no artists - please, there's enough of us poverty-level artists that will be more than happy to continue doing what we do for squat. Here's an idea - go out and host an open mike at the local expresso bar for a year or two. You won't get paid, but you'll get the tremendous feeling of doing something purely artistic and you'll be helping along others in their artistic quest. And besides, what makes you think that a whole new generation of artists that do understand the current technology, that are making money, that aren't tied to the hip of a decaying behemoth of an industry, has not already arisen to take your job away from you? My theory is that to make it in the new world of advancing technology, you will have to have something a little more than a slick recording, perhaps something that is not inherently downloadable. This might be a live act, or a colorful history, or a propensity for excelling in more than one form of media. In other words, you have to stay one step ahead of the game. These artists providing testimonials are betting everything that the RIAA, ASCAP and all the others with a massive stake in this game can get everything back up to snuff. What they should be doing is looking for other venues.
Besides, the no compensation, no artists argument has been an issue since the days of our Founding Fathers. That's why there are copyright laws, that's why Disney and others fought so hard to extend the laws for 20 more years, to protect this certain way of artistic compensation. So part of the law is about protecting artists, but another part is just flat out greed. But technology doesn't listen to laws and has no affinity for borders. Being caught flat-footed is a bugbear that has sent many a successful venture down the tubes into oblivion. The recording industry is not immune to this and they can sue the pants off of every citizen in the world, but it ain't going to bring back The Beatles.
JOIN THE ARMY, SEE THE NAVY
In future TV recruiting ads, wouldn't it be more responsible to put a shot of a burning Humvee or a crowd of agitated citizens? I mean all you get now in those commercials are shots of "pretend" conflict, with a promise to pay for school when it's all over. I have to imagine that quite a few of our troops stationed overseas are wondering just what the hell they got into, and when they're ever going to get out.
Just a thought.
In future TV recruiting ads, wouldn't it be more responsible to put a shot of a burning Humvee or a crowd of agitated citizens? I mean all you get now in those commercials are shots of "pretend" conflict, with a promise to pay for school when it's all over. I have to imagine that quite a few of our troops stationed overseas are wondering just what the hell they got into, and when they're ever going to get out.
Just a thought.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
IT'S NOT JUST THE SECOND HAND SMOKE EITHER. . .
. . . that bugs us non-smokers, although the day I breathed cigarette smoke inside my enclosed vehicle (it came through the air conditioner duct) I was dumbfounded. But, you know, it's also all about being in the damn supermarket line, and especially if it's Stater Bros, they take forever anyway, your reward for lower prices, I suppose, but you're standing there and nobody has cash anymore, it's all checks and charge cards, and really you shouldn't be allowed to use those cards in the Cash Only line (but that's another beef) but dammit to hell, what about those people who wait until the very end of their transaction before they say, "Oh, and I would like a box of Ultra Moron 500's Light" and, of course, they're all out of those at the checkout counter (has the checkout counter ever had the right selection of smokes?) so the checker has to run around to every other station in the store, with no results, until they are forced to go to the "BIG" display, the one over by the carpet cleaning machines, to get that one damn pack of Morons!
Cost to those waiting in line: about five minutes of their time. So what, you say? I'll remember that next time I see someone going 85 MPH on the freeway. They're probably hurrying to get smokes.
. . . that bugs us non-smokers, although the day I breathed cigarette smoke inside my enclosed vehicle (it came through the air conditioner duct) I was dumbfounded. But, you know, it's also all about being in the damn supermarket line, and especially if it's Stater Bros, they take forever anyway, your reward for lower prices, I suppose, but you're standing there and nobody has cash anymore, it's all checks and charge cards, and really you shouldn't be allowed to use those cards in the Cash Only line (but that's another beef) but dammit to hell, what about those people who wait until the very end of their transaction before they say, "Oh, and I would like a box of Ultra Moron 500's Light" and, of course, they're all out of those at the checkout counter (has the checkout counter ever had the right selection of smokes?) so the checker has to run around to every other station in the store, with no results, until they are forced to go to the "BIG" display, the one over by the carpet cleaning machines, to get that one damn pack of Morons!
Cost to those waiting in line: about five minutes of their time. So what, you say? I'll remember that next time I see someone going 85 MPH on the freeway. They're probably hurrying to get smokes.
Monday, June 30, 2003
SO YOU WANT TO BE A ROCK AND ROLL STAR?
There are gigs and there are gigs, if you know where I'm coming from. Shoot, over the years we've played sold out shows with X and the Red Hot Chili Peppers (1986 at the Pomona Valley Auditorium), with the Dead Milkmen (1989 at the Roxy), with Social Distortion (1990 at Cal Poly Pomona, in front of 2,000 people), 35 dates on the 2001 Warped Tour, with the Incredibly Strange Wrestlers last year at the Fillmore and just recently in front of a couple of hundred folks at Qtopia's. The D-Squad is, frankly, the type of band that just gets better the more people are present. It just goes with the nature of our show - we're outrageous, we're an "event" band.
Of course, there's the flip side of it all. That side is best represented by our last show at the old Liquid Den in Huntington Beach. There has never been a place with nicer people, from the promoter to the owner to the sound guy to the bartender. And never have we played consistently in front of so few people.
This did not at first seem like a tank gig, although being in the final slot of the night always makes me nervous. It used to be that playing last meant you were the "headline" band, but that only works if you sell records. Otherwise, playing last is quite often a demoralizing experience, as you get to watch bar patrons file out. You would like to able to grab them and slap them around and go, "You must stay to see this! It will change your life!" or some such nonsense. But it doesn't work like that, at least not anymore. I can remember in the heyday of the old dump the Green Door in Montclair, back when people would come early and stay late and checked out all the bands. Hell, in those days that's how we got most of our fans. We'd steal them! Alas, those days are long gone. In their place are bands that play and leave, along with whoever they brought along with them. There seems to be almost no interest in staying and watching somebody else, especially if you don't know who they are.
Friday was one of those nights. When I got there, right at the end of Radio One, there was a reasonable crowd, and the place was fairly jumping. Radio One is a pretty good band, very energetic, although I only saw one or two songs. I knew we were in trouble however when they were loading out and a dozen of their group were standing in the parking lot flashing their car keys. It wasn't even 11:00 at this point. Whatever, about a third of the crowd split before The Controllers played. There were a couple of people there to see us - exactly two as it turns out - Akie and Don from the Press. And what the hell they were doing all the way out there I couldn't exactly figure out, although it catapulted them to the very top of the D-Squad fan list. And though The Controllers kept the crowd there for the most part, I told Hayes "We're going to be playing in front of Akie and Don tonight." That wasn't true. Bridget was there too. That was three people, so never let it be said that D-Squad can't at least draw a crowd.
I serously doubt there was a dozen people in the bar when we started. This was easily the lowest amount of people (not counting the Indianapolis show in 2001) we've played for since our revival, and possibly ever. I was almost ready to make it a "B" set night - just play old crap we never play anymore. Then I realized that our first two songs were "Stop Being A Dick" and "You Suck" and so we stuck with that. There was the one punk rock guy that stuck around, and I saw some people around the bar who hadn't left yet, and since those people had never been exposed to the Squad, they deserved to see the "A" set, tank gig notwithstanding.
You see, that's the deal. Playing in front of lots of people is easy. It's almost not even work. When you have a big crowd, and you light them up early, they have a tendency to stay lit up. Crowds feed off each other. Of course, when you don't have a crowd, not only do you think, "Well, fuck this shit!", there might be a tendency to mail in the show, just go through the motions, get it over with. Fortunately we're not that type of band. No matter how bleak it looks, we take it to the max. And on this night it paid dividends in curious ways never experienced before.
"Taco Truck" always works, nobody can pass up a chance to hurl a tortilla, and that kept us in the ball game until "No Pussy Tonight." We've been playing this song for quite a while now and it never goes the same way twice, since the middle is improvised. I work up a little banter with Bob - this time telling him I can't get pussy because I always get caught "scratching my nuts". It's become tougher to get through this part, to keep it fresh, and I always welcome audience participation, but I still wasn't prepared for what happened next, when some chick I've never seen before comes up and grabs the microphone and says something. I couldn't hear it but it turned out to be,
"You don't know how to eat pussy."
I identified her as "Elena from Garbage Grove" (this was part of the plan for the night - to say stuff like 'welcome to surf city' and 'let's hear it, Worstminster') and let it go at that and continued on with Bob, asking him if he had any problem scratching his nuts, then leading the audience in a sing-along, then getting to the climax of the song, asking Laura her question, when suddenly the girl returned and grabbed the mike again and this time I heard her and she said,
"You don't know how to eat pussy and you must not fuck very well, or else you wouldn't be talking about it so much."
Ouch! Well, the customer is always right, are they not? I'm very rarely caught short with a retort but this was one of those occasions. I really should have ripped into her but I was laughing too much. Talk about getting upstaged. I don't know what happened to her during "Ass" but even in the last slot, even on this tank of a night, we still heard it:
"You're the best band of the night!"
And it turns out this proclamation came from the first band of the night (the other slot you never want to get), D-Cup. I didn't get down there early enough to check them out, and they did turn out to be butt-ugly dudes, but they dug the shit out of us. As Ian proclaimed after the show, "D-Squad, reeling them in one person at a time." And the adulation didn't end there either. They forfeited their pay and gave it to us. We've played in front of hundreds and not gotten a dime. But the Liquid Den always pays, even when it's a tank, which is why I wish we weren't so lame in that way.
Still, despite it all, we still ended up with hardcore new fans, our new buddies D-Cup. And this could serve as a lesson to all up and coming bands: You always play hard, no matter what. I can remember Jay Lansford, guitarist for the Stepmothers, Channel 3, the Unforgiven, tell us once that we were his favorite band for this exact reason - we didn't give up even on the slow nights. The only real disappointment is when I heard the chick who stormed the stage and made the damning accusations, it turns out she was only doing it on a dare, to get a free beer. Ah! Still, I saw her later and she could barely look me in the eye.
There are gigs and there are gigs, if you know where I'm coming from. Shoot, over the years we've played sold out shows with X and the Red Hot Chili Peppers (1986 at the Pomona Valley Auditorium), with the Dead Milkmen (1989 at the Roxy), with Social Distortion (1990 at Cal Poly Pomona, in front of 2,000 people), 35 dates on the 2001 Warped Tour, with the Incredibly Strange Wrestlers last year at the Fillmore and just recently in front of a couple of hundred folks at Qtopia's. The D-Squad is, frankly, the type of band that just gets better the more people are present. It just goes with the nature of our show - we're outrageous, we're an "event" band.
Of course, there's the flip side of it all. That side is best represented by our last show at the old Liquid Den in Huntington Beach. There has never been a place with nicer people, from the promoter to the owner to the sound guy to the bartender. And never have we played consistently in front of so few people.
This did not at first seem like a tank gig, although being in the final slot of the night always makes me nervous. It used to be that playing last meant you were the "headline" band, but that only works if you sell records. Otherwise, playing last is quite often a demoralizing experience, as you get to watch bar patrons file out. You would like to able to grab them and slap them around and go, "You must stay to see this! It will change your life!" or some such nonsense. But it doesn't work like that, at least not anymore. I can remember in the heyday of the old dump the Green Door in Montclair, back when people would come early and stay late and checked out all the bands. Hell, in those days that's how we got most of our fans. We'd steal them! Alas, those days are long gone. In their place are bands that play and leave, along with whoever they brought along with them. There seems to be almost no interest in staying and watching somebody else, especially if you don't know who they are.
Friday was one of those nights. When I got there, right at the end of Radio One, there was a reasonable crowd, and the place was fairly jumping. Radio One is a pretty good band, very energetic, although I only saw one or two songs. I knew we were in trouble however when they were loading out and a dozen of their group were standing in the parking lot flashing their car keys. It wasn't even 11:00 at this point. Whatever, about a third of the crowd split before The Controllers played. There were a couple of people there to see us - exactly two as it turns out - Akie and Don from the Press. And what the hell they were doing all the way out there I couldn't exactly figure out, although it catapulted them to the very top of the D-Squad fan list. And though The Controllers kept the crowd there for the most part, I told Hayes "We're going to be playing in front of Akie and Don tonight." That wasn't true. Bridget was there too. That was three people, so never let it be said that D-Squad can't at least draw a crowd.
I serously doubt there was a dozen people in the bar when we started. This was easily the lowest amount of people (not counting the Indianapolis show in 2001) we've played for since our revival, and possibly ever. I was almost ready to make it a "B" set night - just play old crap we never play anymore. Then I realized that our first two songs were "Stop Being A Dick" and "You Suck" and so we stuck with that. There was the one punk rock guy that stuck around, and I saw some people around the bar who hadn't left yet, and since those people had never been exposed to the Squad, they deserved to see the "A" set, tank gig notwithstanding.
You see, that's the deal. Playing in front of lots of people is easy. It's almost not even work. When you have a big crowd, and you light them up early, they have a tendency to stay lit up. Crowds feed off each other. Of course, when you don't have a crowd, not only do you think, "Well, fuck this shit!", there might be a tendency to mail in the show, just go through the motions, get it over with. Fortunately we're not that type of band. No matter how bleak it looks, we take it to the max. And on this night it paid dividends in curious ways never experienced before.
"Taco Truck" always works, nobody can pass up a chance to hurl a tortilla, and that kept us in the ball game until "No Pussy Tonight." We've been playing this song for quite a while now and it never goes the same way twice, since the middle is improvised. I work up a little banter with Bob - this time telling him I can't get pussy because I always get caught "scratching my nuts". It's become tougher to get through this part, to keep it fresh, and I always welcome audience participation, but I still wasn't prepared for what happened next, when some chick I've never seen before comes up and grabs the microphone and says something. I couldn't hear it but it turned out to be,
"You don't know how to eat pussy."
I identified her as "Elena from Garbage Grove" (this was part of the plan for the night - to say stuff like 'welcome to surf city' and 'let's hear it, Worstminster') and let it go at that and continued on with Bob, asking him if he had any problem scratching his nuts, then leading the audience in a sing-along, then getting to the climax of the song, asking Laura her question, when suddenly the girl returned and grabbed the mike again and this time I heard her and she said,
"You don't know how to eat pussy and you must not fuck very well, or else you wouldn't be talking about it so much."
Ouch! Well, the customer is always right, are they not? I'm very rarely caught short with a retort but this was one of those occasions. I really should have ripped into her but I was laughing too much. Talk about getting upstaged. I don't know what happened to her during "Ass" but even in the last slot, even on this tank of a night, we still heard it:
"You're the best band of the night!"
And it turns out this proclamation came from the first band of the night (the other slot you never want to get), D-Cup. I didn't get down there early enough to check them out, and they did turn out to be butt-ugly dudes, but they dug the shit out of us. As Ian proclaimed after the show, "D-Squad, reeling them in one person at a time." And the adulation didn't end there either. They forfeited their pay and gave it to us. We've played in front of hundreds and not gotten a dime. But the Liquid Den always pays, even when it's a tank, which is why I wish we weren't so lame in that way.
Still, despite it all, we still ended up with hardcore new fans, our new buddies D-Cup. And this could serve as a lesson to all up and coming bands: You always play hard, no matter what. I can remember Jay Lansford, guitarist for the Stepmothers, Channel 3, the Unforgiven, tell us once that we were his favorite band for this exact reason - we didn't give up even on the slow nights. The only real disappointment is when I heard the chick who stormed the stage and made the damning accusations, it turns out she was only doing it on a dare, to get a free beer. Ah! Still, I saw her later and she could barely look me in the eye.
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