Postcards
August 30, 2000
California Dreamin'
A gig nightmare nearly comes true
by Sam Shaber
Postcards is a journal of life on the road from Sam Shaber, written specially for readers of Harmony Central. Each installment will reflect on the trials and rewards of touring, as experienced by this New York-based solo artist.
I have a recurring anxiety dream, centered around the mechanics of a gig -- getting to the show, being able to sing at all, having an audience, etc. For example, I'm in New York when I realize the gig starts in 15 minutes in San Francisco, and my guitar is in Boston.
This dream recurred recently, before a gig at the Mint in L.A.
'I brought nine people, dealt with a drunk soundman, was very nervous, and sucked.'
The Mint is a hip room, known for its celebrity cameos. (Harry Dean Stanton plays there with his band every week.) I played there almost three years ago on St. Patrick's Day to a rowdy crowd that included Downtown Julie Brown. I brought nine people, dealt with a drunk and belligerent soundman, was very nervous, and sucked. My second show there brought four people and again included the (still) drunk soundman, who this time made me cry.
Now, after a year and a handful of gigs in other L.A. rooms, I called the Mint again.
"How many people can you bring?" asked Paula, one of the talent buyers.
"Twenty to thirty," I said, trying to sound confident.
"I don't know. You didn't bring people last time." (All clubs keep records dating back to Prohibition, it seems.)
"But that was a year and a half ago and I've played in L.A. six or seven times since then," I pleaded.
"Well, I don't see how you're going to bring 20 to 30 people."
"I just … I have a mailing list. I have friends." I was barely convincing myself.
"All right. I'll book you, but you'd better bring people. I can't afford to lose on you."
Which brings us to the dream in which I was at the Mint the night before the show to check the reservation list. I already had 18 reservations, and I was relieved until I saw that the next act had 360 reservations, the group after them 183, the group after them had 200, and so on.
Okay, it was just a dream, but I was terrified. I sent emails and flyers. I made phone calls. I pulled every name I could. I begged. I emailed again.
Luckily my secret weapons were in town. Adam and Mark Kassen, two friends from my college years, are actors in L.A. They also act as my personal promoters whenever I play there. They spent that afternoon calling every friend and acquaintance in the city and trying to turn my show into a social event.
At sound check I was very relieved to not see the belligerent soundman but instead to meet George and his intern Carrie, who were instantly welcoming and friendly. I also met Paula the talent buyer, who I quickly understood was a very good person doing a very tough job. It's really the talent buyer's responsibility to fill the seats, although it's always hard to think that way when they're scaring you on the phone.
Adam and Mark came through, as did some of the other musicians, relatives, friends, and even a few fans I have in the area.
My final total: 24!
I had filled my quota. The sound was excellent and the atmosphere attentive and relaxed. I gave a solid performance and even got invited afterwards to a Beverly Hills hangout called the Backstage, which is hosted by L.A. social fixture Pumpkin Pie (called "the Pie" by thousands of her closest friends, among them Zoe Bonham, daughter of John, who was there in a mesh bikini top and netted shawl.)
As we headed out of the Mint, I thanked George and Carrie and bid goodbye to Paula."Anytime you want to come back, just let us know!" she said, giving me a hug.
Thankfully, dreams don't always come true.
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Sam Shaber is a solo artist who
has spent most of the past three
years on the road throughout the
U.S. and the U.K. Her articles have
appeared in Musician, Performing
Songwriter, and Home Recording.
She is about to release her third
album on her own Brown Chair
label. For further information, visit
www.samshaber.com. |
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