Being a professional musician for decades doesn’t mean you’re immune to getting burned
A year ago I did a favour for my partner’s former colleague. Let’s call her Jane (not her real name). With under a week’s notice I reincarnated my Bassic Sax Jazz Ensemble, and performed a two-hour Christmas show for about 200 of Jane’s clients and fellow staff members.
I did give Jane a bit of a hard time after it was over, and told her if she had given me more than five days lead time, we would have had some more material for her. Jane agreed, and then told me to keep December 5, 2016 open, and that we’d do it again. I said OK, that’s certainly more than five days notice. 😉
Throughout the year I kept the date open, and by August I had made sure that I had the Bassic Sax Jazz Ensemble’s members lined-up for the Dec. 5 performance. What made it difficult was that it was a show that stretched from late morning into early afternoon, so availability was an issue. However, everyone made sure that they kept the date open, and come mid-November we were set to rehearse a few times to gel as a group.
The problem was, by early November I hadn’t heard from Jane, so I couldn’t tell my band members with 100% certainty that the show was still a go. I was 95% sure, since this was Jane I was dealing with, and she is dependable as all get-out. But still, I didn’t want to have people waste their time—especially at this time of the year when we’re all busy with rehearsals and Christmas shows in all the other bands we’re already involved in.
Over the course of a week I left phone messages for Jane at work and on her cell; I tried to find her at her group’s fundraiser; and I texted her as well. Just a mere 12 days before the actual date of the show, I finally heard back from Jane. She told me that my group won’t be doing the performance this year. Apparently there were funding issues, and the new entertainment sponsor insisted on providing their own entertainer.
WTF? Yes, the text was apologetic, but still: Really? I couldn’t have been told at the time it happened? Why was I the one who had to leave voicemail messages and texts to find out that my group was fired?
This is of course exactly why bands have contracts, and even take 50% deposits for upcoming shows.
Again, if it had been anyone other than Jane I would have done just that, but Jane and her organization have never treated me as anything other than the professional I am.
Needless to say, a professional does not take kindly to being treated like this. An amateur, who is just happy to be able to perform for the public, would likely just let this run like water off a duck’s back. A pro is not likely to be as forgiving however.
With this in mind, I’d like to offer my thoughts about professional musicians. This is for potential clients who require musicians for the events, but also for young musicians starting out.
What are professional musicians?
Professional musicians are just that: professionals, and as such we deserve to be treated with the same amount of respect as any other professional whether it be social worker; banker; nurse; teacher; or any one of the countless other trained professions that you care to list.
Professional musicians spend years, and countless hours honing their craft. Many (most) have attended post-secondary school and studied music, and/or have studied with private instructors on their particular instrument. Over the years these studies have cost a great deal of money.
Professional musicians also have a great deal of money tied up in professional gear. Besides instruments, they have all the accessories, and electronic gear that allows them to perform either with a band, or as a solo act.
Maintaining all that gear takes money as well. For example, the average professional saxophone, used at shows, needs to be serviced at least once a year for a minimum of $200, and overhauled every 5 to 10 years for about $1,000. As for electronic equipment, it too needs to be repaired (rarely), or replaced as it gets damaged, and/or wears out.
Bottom line: being a professional musician is expensive, but as I wrote about last year, our wages haven’t gone up since the 1970s. As a matter of fact, when adjusted for inflation, we are actually making about 1/3 of the money that we did in the 1970s, and about ½ that we did in the 1980s. Pretty sad when you think about it.
Then there’s the time we put in. I’ve figured it out, but as a band leader, for every 1 hour of performance I put in about 3 hours of additional prep—beyond what a regular band member puts in. This is why, in part, leaders tend to pay band members less than they pay themselves
All this brings me back to my original point: When we as professional musicians get booked for a gig, we expect to be treated just like any other professional. For example, if you’re planning an event and book a caterer, do they not expect a deposit? If you cancel that caterer and choose to go with a different one, you forfeit your deposit. Why should musicians be treated any differently?
Concluding thought for young pros
For you young pros starting out, don’t sell yourselves short. Don’t get caught up in that race to the bottom. This is how we’ve ended up settling for that $100/night job that we have today, which anyone who has been around in the 70s and 80s will tell you, are not living wages.
It is a good warning.
A living wage is unlikely in music, so most investments are sunk costs.
In such markets contractors have the tendency to become less human in behavior.
Not acceptable, but difficult to change.
It also affects the music, it is more edgy and effect oriented.
Sadly, that race to the bottom in already well under way, and you can either run with it, or get out of the way. Someone just starting out has two opportunities. One is to cone\\me to the attention of someone with resources to support them directly — a patron. Or maybe several such. This will work for only a small fraction, and not necessarily the most worthy. The rest have to join in that “race to the bottom” and hope it works out. For most of them, it won’t either.
The fact is that for most musicians, even some exceptionally good ones, it’s just not possible to make a reasonable living just by gigging. It’s unfortunate, but it’s reality, and the only alternative is to not play the game at all. The mere fact that a profession exists, and that you are skilled in it, is no guarantee there is a job for you.
This is far from isolated to the music business. Game developers are in the same position. Get a soul sucking job for EA or someone like them, work 80 hours a week on perpetual death marches, and after 3 or 4 years when you get tired and can’t do it any more, they boot you to the curb and find someone else to abuse. Or, do your own projects but be constantly broke and/or working another job to make ends meet.
The only reason any industry like this can get away with it is that there is no shortage of replacement workers for those that burn out. So why does anyone get into them in the first place? Because it’s something they like doing, meaning they’ll do it (to a certain extent) whether they get paid or not. Were it not for this, there would be no farm system from which to draw replacement recruits. It’s very much like the feeder system that keeps professional sports leagues operating.
If you think you’re going to make a living doing the thing you love the most, I hate to break it to you, but you probably aren’t. Some will, but the vast majority will never get there. It is far more likely you’ll end up doing something you merely like, more likely just tolerate, or even actively loathe, just because you’re good enough at it to justify someone hiring you to do it.
Well that’s depressing… So there’s no fixing this anymore? It’s like the environment… It’s beyond hope?