When Does Your Music Start to Hurt?
(And What the Heck Does That Mean?)
By Danielle Egnew
http://www.danielleegnew.com
To Tour Or Not To Tour…
That Is The Question!
By Sheena Metal
Editor's Note:  As a contributing  writer, Danielle brings
her unique perspective and wisdom to indie artists every
where.  
You'll recognize Multi-Award Winning Artist
Danielle Egnew's name from a number of entertainment
genres. Boasting a highly successful Music Career as an
Artist / Producer, acting in TV and Film, as well as penning
one optioned screenplay after another, Danielle Egnew
is also an internationally respected Psychic Medium and
Speaker, hosting her own syndicated talk radio show
"The High Road" and anchoring her own thriving Private
Practice in the Southern California area.
 
www.danielleegnew.com/home.html
Editor's Note:
Indietude is please to welcome Sheena Metal to our
family of contributing writers. Sheena is a very active
and influential member of the indie music scene as a
radio host, producer, promoter, music supervisor,
consultant, columnist, journalist and musician.  Her
syndicated radio program, Music Highway Radio, airs
on over 700 affiliates to more than 126 million
listeners.  Her musicians’ assistance program, Music
Highway, boasts over 10,000 members.  She
currently promotes numerous live shows weekly in the
Los Angeles Area, where she resides.  For more info:
http://www.sheena-metal.com.
Now come on, admit it. I know that you’ve wanted to play,
or record, or write so badly that it physically hurts. You
know, when you want to go into the studio because you
have something to say, but there’s just not any money for
the studio time, or worse yet, any time in your day to go
purge your guts of that one song that keeps playing itself
in your head, over and over again, until you find yourself
wishing that you were actually ruminating on “Margaritaville”
instead.

This is a phenom that I experience on a regular basis.
And I find that it comes on at some extremely inappropriate
times, somewhat like the mental equivalent of Irritable
Bowel Syndrome, or IBS. I like to call this phenom of an
ever-present looping song in my head “Irritable Songwriting
Syndrome”, or ISS. And when I feel a bout of ISS backing
up in my mental pipes, I know I am in for a rough ride. I can
only hope there is a musical “bathroom” close by, such as
my studio, my guitar, my keyboard, or for goodness sake,
at least a cottin’ pickin’ napkin to scribble lyrics on.
It’s every musician’s fantasy.  The tour bus rolls up
to the arena (full of groupies, beer and pizza).  Fans
are crowded out front hoping to catch a glimpse of
America’s hottest band.  The group is escorted to
their dressing room (full of more groupies, beer and
pizza).  They enjoy the various pleasures of stardom
while roadies set up the stage.  It’s show time.  The
artists take the stage.  The crowd is screaming.  
The lights are glaring.  The amps are humming.  
The drummer clicks off the first song and…

You wake up in the back of your PT Cruiser.  
Your bass player’s elbow is in your ear and the
drummer’s asleep on your foot.  You’ve eaten
nothing for the last week but corn dogs and frozen
burritos.  This is not the tour you imagined.  This is
not your Lilith Faire.  This is not your Lollapalooza.  
This is not your Warped Tour.  This...sucks.

Every musician dreams of touring.  Getting out of
their same boring town.  Trying their tunes out on
new crowds, in new areas, for fresh faces.  Bonding
on road, writing new tunes in the motel room, free
food, free drinks, getting paid, getting laid…living
the life.

But the music biz is full of touring horror stories.  
Bands stuck on the road with no money to come
home.  Musicians not eating for days.  Clubs
canceling gigs the night of with no warning.  
Negative reactions from bar patrons and local
bands.  The list goes on.

So, how do you make sure that your touring
experience is a positive one?  What can you, as
musicians do, to eliminate potentially negative
experiences and create positive ones.

The following are a few tips that add success to
your touring experience:

1.)  Don’t Plan A Tour Because You’re Unhappy
At Home
. -- Just as an affair will not fix the problems
in a marriage, a tour is not the cure for: problems
within the band, problems in the band members’
lives, or a general malaise for your local scene.  A
tour is strain and stress and loads of work.  You
should be excited, and enthusiastic and positive
when planning.  

2.) Over Prepare Before You Leave--You can
never plan too much or take too many precautions.  
At home is the time to rethink ever scenario and
arrange accordingly.  Get the van tuned up.  Pack
extra emergency money.  Bring a list of additional
clubs in the area in case your gigs fall through.  
Pack extra strings and sticks.  Bring a backup
guitar.  Pack extra merchandise.  Bring emergency
food/water.  Pack extra batteries and power
cords.  Bring cell phones.

3.) Be Humble And Thankful---You’re in a strange
town and a new club, act like a guest.  Nothing ticks
off a club owner/promoter who’s taken a chance on
an unknown band more than out-of-towners
swaggering into a club like Paris Hilton in an episode
of “The Simple Life.”  No matter how cool you are in
your own town, this is unproven ground and your first
impression is important.  Ask, don’t demand.  Set up
quickly.  Play at an appropriate volume. Clean up
after yourselves.  Be friendly and courteous.  Say
“please” and “thank you”.  Unless you’re booking in
Jerkville USA, this positive attitude could set you well
on your way to a repeat booking with better perks
and more local support.

4.)  Seize Every Opportunity---If you’re going to
take the time away from work, family, and the buzz
you’ve built in your own music community to head
out into the great beyond and conquer unknown
lands…you might as well come back with something
other than lovely memories and an out-of-state
parking ticket.  You’re in a new place and the
possibilities are endless.  Sell CDs.  Sell T-shirts.  
Get new names on your mailing list.  Solicit local
reviews, interviews, and radio.  Introduce yourself to
other club owners for future bookings.  Find out who
books local festivals.  Play an impromptu house party
after your gig.  Make new friends that can street team
for you next time.  Think of something I haven’t even
written here and do it!

5.) Don’t Expect To Conquer The World In One
Tour
---Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither will
your touring empire be.  Have fun.  Enjoy each trip
and using it as a building block to make each tour to
that particular place better and more elaborate.  Play
your cards right, and after a few trips you may be
making terrific money, have secured lodging (either
new friends let you crash or a club pays for a motel),
get food and drinks comped, and guaranteed press
and radio coverage.  

In short, touring can be the best thing that ever
happened to your band if you work hard, play it
smart, and follow through correctly.  But no matter
how much you love to tour, always remember to keep
your foot in the door locally.  It’s the great work that
you do at home that makes other clubs excited about
you bringing your show to their town.
But if I’m deprived of a reasonable outlet for this poorly
timed creative burst – it gets ugly.  Kind of like being
trapped behind that really portly fellow in the grocery
store whose plumber’s crack begins to sweat with the
onset of a vicious IBS bout.  He can’t get out of line, you
don’t want to be behind him, the poor guy is beet red and
looks like someone’s overcooked Christmas ham from the
neck up, and both of you – and I mean both of you—are
just PRAYING the line will move before mother nature
opens up the floodgates.

This is the kind of creative expulsion that if trapped
inside an artist – begins to physically hurt. I have been
experiencing this type of musical hurt since the feature
film I recently starred in wrapped up. It’s called “Changing
Spots”, and the acting I was doing in the film was an
amazing experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything,
but the creative energy of acting most definitely comes
from a different place inside of me than does the music.
Now, shooting a movie takes a long time, and it’s not as
if you can stop in the middle and record an album. Oddly,
I didn’t notice this ISS bout while on the film, because 16
hour days 7 days a week will keep a person rather busy.
However, the moment the film wrapped, there it was – this
pressure in my guts. And when I stopped to check the
valve and see what it was, I saw it was an unrecorded
album, clamoring to get out. My 16 hour days shoving
peanut butter and bread in my mouth from the Craft
Service Table only served to plug up the creative pipes
for so long. But that time was over, and just like that poor
portly fellow in the grocery store line, any equivalent of a
plumber’s crack I had was beginning to creatively sweat.
Not a pretty picture, but it’s true.

What I realized through my experience with my own ISS
is that the creative energy that builds inside of an artist
becomes a living, somatic presence (don’t reach for the
Webster’s – “somatic” means “physical”) that must be
regularly flushed, like a PVC pipe in the back yard. If
that powerful burst of creative energy is not flushed, it
actually manifests itself in your physical body and can
be felt as physical pressure in the chest, stomach,
throat, and even manifest itself as depression. Just like
a clogged gutter on the side of your house during the fall,
your creative juices cannot flow through an outlet that is
full of junk. The junk is only cleared out by DOING your
creative action, and allowing that creative energy to
dredge through the unnecessary yuckiness in your
creative pipes that has settled while the creative line
was not in use, much like how a lake will go stagnant if it
does not have an active water source in and out. And of
course, what happens to a stagnant lake? It pools up
and becomes septic and rotten.  This is what happens
to artists’ temperaments and even talents when they are
shelved and go unused for great amounts of time.  If not
used, the same inspired creative energy that bursts up
through an artist will also turn into the poison that breeds
jealousy, complacency, and depression, if left to go rotten
on itself, unused.

DOING is the energetic key to keeping the artistic pipes
clean, to cleaning the spider webs out of the closet. This
DOING is about being consistent in your creation –
playing, rehearsing, and mostly, writing. It may be
something as monumental as booking the studio time,
bringing your band in, and beginning your album. Or it
may be as important, but small, as scratching out two
lines of your next song on a bar napkin while you are
waiting to see a club owner. But the lot of an artist is
that of a shark – we must always keep swimming, or
we’ll die. That’s the nature of creative energy, people.
We must always keep outputting. We must always keep
creating.  And sure, just like the seasons, artistic bursts
come in waves. Once an artist is hit with a bout of ISS,
spewing their creative juices every where, there is a time
of rejuvenation, where the lake begins to fill once again.
However, to not create during this ISS time will most
certainly result in one really rotten lake – and one really
sweaty plumber’s crack.

So make sure that when you are hit with that bout of ISS,
you are prepared. Just like the trucker who is going cross-
country has a few roles of toilet paper in the back of his
seat for those inopportune moments while between rest
stops, artists should have what I call an Emergency
Creators Kit, or ECK stashed somewhere that they’ll
remember. (Don’t put it in that one safe place where
nothing can ever be found again. That won’t serve the
purpose of it being an EMERGENCY Creators Kit.) Have
a shoebox filled with different sizes and colors and scraps
of paper – not a notebook, because that suggests sitting
with some tea and petting a cat while you ponder your
next phrase, and for crying out loud, if you had that
structure, you wouldn’t be frantically diving for a shoebox.
Have some different colored pens – ballpoints, markers,
the proverbial sharpie – for different writing textures.
Why all these different scraps of paper and pen
textures? Well, all intestinal allusions and kidding aside,
an ISS moment is actually a very spiritual experience,
and requires a very tactile, very organic process. An
artist, in the middle of a creative burst, is actually
channeling information. That’s why “writing sprees”
are termed just that. Otherwise, the artist would
constantly have their  flood gates open to the channeled
tides of the universe, without any rest from the relentless
hammering of  inputting information, and take it from me
– that will  make a person crazy.  

When the urge to write or play comes, then quench the
physical pain, the build up inside of you, by DOING.
WRITE! CREATE! PLAY ! WRITE SOME MORE! Scribble
on those pieces of paper in that shoebox until you can’t
read them anymore! Create a box whose creatively
brilliant and channeled scribblings have to be cracked
with the Rosetta stone – but for goodness sake, DO IT.
If you don’t, you’re creating a rotten, septic lake in the
heart of your creative enthusiasm where a river once
flowed, a place where the flora and fauna once thrived
in your creative biosphere but are now choked out from
the brackish water rising, drowning the delicate
environment that makes up your creative center. Once
that choke-out happens, it takes much longer for your
flora and fauna to grow back, which in real terms means
that if you get out of the habit of creating, you’ll get rusty,
and it will become harder and harder to do, which is a
double edged sword when you factor in the rising,
pooling, brackish waters that never get cleared through
any creative pipes.

In short, don’t be the guy in the grocery store line with
the sweaty plumber’s crack. It’s just nasty. As for me? I’m
going to relieve a bout of my own post-film ISS right now –
and write an album.
©Indietude.com 2006
Home
A Side
B Side
Indie News
Indietude
Biz Newz2