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The 8 Nights of Hanukah with Yo La Tengo

A holiday tradition at the Bowery Ballroom has returned once again. Signaling that maybe, just maybe, we have returned to normal.

It was 2017 when I found out Yo La Tengo would be reinstating their holiday tradition at the Bowery Ballroom, after a 5-year hiatus due to the closing of the original venue host, Maxwells. I was beyond excited to have them, but I was green in knowing what it would take to host an 8-night residency when most of my job involved turning the club over each night.  Over the 4 years that followed, fond friendships grew to give me deep, nostalgic feelings of the tour, and the joy and pride that comes with seeing an artist grow, and seeing your skills grow in the process.

When the 2021 holiday residency was announced, a warm smile fell over everyone at the venue. If Yo La Tengo believes we can do this safely, maybe live music can finally return to normal. All 8 nights follow a similar format. Doors open to a playlist made by someone near and dear to the band, a supporting artist takes the stage, followed by a comedian, and finally Yo La Tengo- with a 2-hour set featuring many special guests.

Load In always happens on the night before the first show. Then the production schedule always follows something similar to the following:

3:00 pm- Crew Arrives, preps gear

4:00 pm- Band arrives, rehearsals start

6:00 pm- Support Soundcheck

7:00 pm- Doors

8:00 pm- Support

9:00 pm- Comedian

10:00 pm- Yo La Tengo

The band comes with a Tour Manager, Backline Tech, Monitor Engineer, and FOH Engineer. And I always staff a Stage Manager, Monitor tech, FOH Tech, and Lighting Designer. Ideally, I keep the same crew for all 8 nights, strangely easier said than done.

The bands’ engineers use our house consoles and their mic package (mostly all Electrovoice). Our lighting designer lights the whole show. The band is all on wedges. With all of the special guests, we quickly use up all our 10 d&b M6 wedges. Most nights also use up all 48 of our inputs from stage, and I found myself grateful for our new digital console at Front Of House, and the importance of snapshots. The stage always starts exceptionally organized with every XLR being labeled, every sub snake box labeled and color-coded, and maintaining proper cable lengths. Stage speaker management is equally detailed, and the use of Layouts and console views on the Avid desk really helps FOH to stay on top of any last-minute surprises. Additional house equipment is stored off-stage, but still accessible, to create as much performance space as possible

Organizing FOH as a newly appointed Avid console tech, was a challenge for me. We loaded a show file that had passed from a Profile to another S6L, before coming to our desk. While Avid does boast a unified platform and ease of show file transfers, it does take a careful engineer a bit of time to prep the file for each new desk. Currently, I am taking the winter season to learn and understand session structures and system preferences. This has helped me achieve the workflow I was always used to on the Avid desk, and now I have the understanding as to why it behaves that way. I am also coming to understand that sometimes, the things engineers enjoy about their files/workflow, are things that might be better reproduced as a snapshot or User Preset, rather than a whole Session file. It is humbling, gratifying, challenging, and fun to poke through this new desk in a room I know and love, and with a band, I know and love.  By the end of Hanukah, I felt like I could speak the desks’ language much better than when we started.

Unlike the 300 other shows I advance with throughout the year, the support band, comedian, and special guests are kept top secret. Over the years, I have gone from feeling extreme anxiety over the anticipation to feeling excited and actually enjoying the unknown. I have arrived to work greeted with hugs from artists I used to tour with, had my jaw drop when seeing my idols take the stage, and of course, had my “grey hair moments” when figuring out how to fit all 14 members of the Sun Ra Arkestra on our stage. This year we were lucky to see their return, along with personal favorites Low, whose FOH engineer patched some analog effect pedals into the desk, including a real Moogerfooger that sounded heavenly.

Yo La Tengo has always been an important band for me. Having found them on a mixtape from a friend over a decade before I knew I even wanted to pursue live sound as a career.  I never could have thought I’d come to love and appreciate their crew as much as I do. It is a joy to hear Marks’ mixes, and how authentically he reproduces the bands’ sound.  It is inspiring to absorb Dutch’s patience and organization of wedge mixes on such a small stage. And always, always a joy to see the way Kevin works with Ira’s army of guitars. Magically fitting and tuning more guitars than nights of Hanukah to mate with the tube amps that defined such a genre of music. Joe, their TM holds them together, keeping everyone well fed, well caffeinated, and as prepared as possible.

With all on their crew, it always feels like genuine work together, rather than house vs. tour. What makes this, and any crew so great and effective is their ability to work together towards the whole. To understand that FOH is not just sitting in front of a desk. That mixing monitors is also balancing the stage volume. It is understanding volume and tone, and how the space is affecting what you are doing, as well as who you have on stage with you. I was always taught and always appreciated that FOH is something you work up towards, not simply something that you are trained for in books or videos. It comes when you can understand all of the parts of the stage, and when you understand your artist, and how they make their sound. To date, the most successful mixes I have heard are from engineers that understand those concepts completely.

These shows wrapped just as we learned of Omicron. All on the house staff, artist, and crew remained healthy, and each show was a success. Just a week later, we were shook with increased case numbers, and NYC saw its nightlife begin to dim once more. Broadway canceled shows, New Year’s Eve got a little more intimate, and Artists’ postponed their tours. January had 2-weeks worth of shows canceled, leaving only 4 dates with 3 artists, and a tightening of our protocols. In the strange, and all too common downtime, I have taken to education and practical training in our space. I cannot help but feel sad and exhausted. We have wasted years that could have been spent really understanding the needs of the industry in order to tour in a healthy manner. I feel safe and proud of the protocols we as a venue have put in place, which now feels somewhat fraught. If improved health, safety, production equipment, and training are not the reasons why an artist would choose to play your room over another, what are they? Is it possible to see something more than a guarantee?

I should leave it here by saying that all the Hanukah shows are put on in support of a different charity every night, and not only speak to organizations I feel proud to support, but also a sign of the times. I found this tradition the most heartwarming and meaningful of all. In a year when the band, [and the whole industry] performed a small fraction of the shows we thought we would when many artists suffered and put that aside for a moment, with the understanding that there is so much more out there, and so much to continue to fight for.

If you get lucky enough, I encourage everyone to check out one of these celebratory nights, and please come back to Bowery soon. We miss ya!

 

Master the Art of Saving Your Live Show File

Total recall for a better workflow and to avoid embarrassment 

If you found this blog because your show file isn’t recalling scenes properly, skip to the “in case of emergency” section and come back to read the rest when you have time.

We learned as soon as we started using computers that we need to save our work as often as possible. We all know that sinking feeling when that essay or email we had worked so long and hard on, without backing up, suddenly became the victim of a spilled drink or blue screen of death. I’m sure more than a few of us also know this feeling from when we didn’t save our show file correctly, maybe even causing thousands of people to boo us because everything’s gone quiet all of a sudden. Digital desks are just computers with a fancy keyboard, but unlike writing a simple essay, there are many more ‘features’ in show files that can trip you up if you don’t fully understand them. Explaining the ins and outs of every desk’s save functions is beyond the scope of this article (pun intended), but learning the principles of how and why everything should be saved will help to make your workflow more efficient and reliable, and hopefully save you from an embarrassing ‘dog ate my show file moment.

The lingo

For some reason, desk manufacturers love to reinvent the wheel and so have their own words to describe the same thing. I have tried to include the different terms that I know of, but once you understand the underlying principles you should be able to recognise what is meant if you encounter other names for them. It really pays to read your desk’s manual, especially when it comes to show files. Brands have different approaches which might not always be intuitive, so getting familiar with them before you even start will help to avoid all your work going down the drain when you don’t tick the right box or press the right button.

Automation: This refers to the whole concept of having different settings for different parts of the performance. The term comes from studio post-production and is a little bit of a misnomer for live sound because most of the time it isn’t automatic as such; the engineer still needs to trigger the next setting, even though the desk takes care of the rest (if you’re really fancy some desks can trigger scene changes off midi or timecode. It is modern-day magic but you still need to be there to make sure things run smoothly and to justify your fee).

Show file/show/session: The parent file. This covers all the higher level desk settings, like how many busses you have and what type, your user preferences, EQ libraries, etc. It is the framework that the scenes build on, but also contains the scenes.

Scene/snapshot: Individual states within the show file, like documents within a folder. They store the current values for things like fader levels, mutes, pan, and effects settings. Every time you want things to change without having to make those adjustments by hand, you should have a new scene.

Scope/focus/filter: Defines which parameters get recalled (or stored. See next section) with the scene. For example, you might want everything except the mutes and fader levels to stay the same throughout the whole show, so they would be the only things in your scenes’ recall scope.

N.B.! Midas (and perhaps some other manufacturers) defines scope as what gets excluded from being recalled, and so it works the other way round (see figure 1). Be very sure you know which definition your desk is using! To avoid confusion, references to scope in this post mean what gets included.

Store vs. recall: Some desks, e.g. Midas, offer store scope as well as recall scope. This means you can control what gets saved as well as how much of that information later gets brought back to the surface. Much like the solo in place button, you need to be 100% sure of what you’re doing before you use this feature. It might seem like a good idea to take something you won’t want later, like the settings for a spare vocal mic when the MD uses it during rehearsals, out of the store scope. However, it’s much safer to just take it out of the recall scope instead. It’s better to have all the information at your disposal and choose what to use, rather than not having data you might later need. You also risk forgetting to reset the store scope when you need to record that parameter again, or setting the scope incorrectly. The worst-case scenario is accidentally taking everything out of the store scope (Midas even gives you a handy “all” button so you can do it with one click!): You can spend hours or even days diligently working on a show, getting all your scenes and recall scopes perfect, then have absolutely nothing to show for it at the end because nothing got saved in order to be recalled. Yes, this happens. It’s simply best to leave store scope alone.

Safe/hardware safe/iso (isolate): You can ‘safe’ things that you don’t want to be affected by scene changes, for example, the changeover DJ on a multi-band bill or an emergency announcement mic. Recall safes are applied globally so if you want to recall something for some scenes and not others, you should take it out of the relevant scenes’ recall scope instead.

Global: Applies to all scenes. What parameters you can and can’t assign or change globally varies according to manufacturer.

Absolute vs. relative: Some desks, e.g. SSLs, let you specify whether a change you make is absolute or relative. This applies when making changes to several scenes at once, either through the global or grouping options. For example, if you move a channel’s fader from -5 to 0, saving it as “absolute” would mean that that fader is at 0 in every scene you’re editing, but saving it as “relative” means the fader is raised by 5dB in every scene, compared to where it was already.

Fade/transition/timing: Scene changes are instantaneous by default, but a lot of desks give you the option to dictate how gradually you change from one scene to another, how the crossfade works, and whether a scene automatically follows on from the one before it after a certain length of time. These can be useful for theatrical applications in particular.

The diagram from Digico’s S21 manual illustrating recall scope (top) and the Midas Pro2 manual’s diagram (bottom). Both show that if elements are highlighted green, they are in the recall scope. Unfortunately Digico defines scope as what does get recalled, while Midas defines it as what doesn’t. Very similar screens, identical wording, entirely opposite results. It was a bad day when I found that out the hard way.

Best practice

Keep it simple!: With so many different approaches to automation from different manufacturers and so many aspects of a show file to keep track of, it is easy to tie yourself in knots if you aren’t careful. There are many ways to undo or override your settings without even noticing. The order in which data filters are applied and what takes precedence can vary according to manufacturer (see figure 2 for an illustration of one). Keep your show file as simple as possible until you’re confident with how everything works, and always save everything and back it up to your USB stick before making any major change. It’s much easier to mix a bit more by hand than to try to fix a problem with the automation, especially one that reappears every time you change the scene!

Keep it tidy: As with any aspect of the job, keep your work neat and annotated. There are comment boxes for each show and scene where you can note down what changes you made, what stage you were at when you saved, or what the scene is even for. This is very useful when troubleshooting or if someone needs to cover you.

Be prepared: Show files can be fiddly and soundchecks can be rushed and chaotic. It’s a good idea to make a generic show file with your preferences and the settings you need to start off with for every show, then build individual show files from there. You can make your files with an offline editor and have several options ready so you can hit the ground running as soon as you get to the venue. If you aren’t sure how certain aspects of the automation work, test them out ahead of time.

Don’t rely on the USB: Never run your show straight from your USB stick if you can avoid it. Some desks don’t offer space to store your show file, but if yours does you should always copy your file into the desk straight away. Work on that copy, before saving onboard and then backing it up back to the USB stick. Some desks don’t handle accessing information on external drives in real-time well, so everything might seem fine until the DSP is stretched or something fails, and you can end up with errors right at a crucial part of the performance. Plus, just imagine if someone knocked it out of its socket mid-show! You should also invest in good quality drives because a lot of desks don’t recognise low-quality ones (including some of the ones that desk manufacturers themselves hand out!).

Where to start: It can be tempting to start with someone else’s show file and tweak it for your gig. If that person has kept a neat, clear file (and they’ve given you permission to use it!) it could work well, but keep in mind that there might be settings hidden in menus that you aren’t aware of or tricks they use that suit their workflow that will just trip you up. Check through the file thoroughly before you use it.

Most desks have some sort of template scene or scenes to get you started. Some are more useful than others, and you need to watch out for their little quirks. The Midas Pro2 had a notoriously sparse start scene when it first came out, with absolutely nothing patched, not even the headphones! You also need to be aware of your desk’s general default settings. Yamaha CL and QL series take head amp information from the “port” (stage box socket, Dante source, etc.) rather than the channel by default. That is the safest option for when you’re sharing the ports between multiple desks but is pretty useless if you aren’t and actively confusing if you’re moving your file between several setups, as you inherit the gains from each device you patch to.

Make it yours: It’s your show file, structure it in the way that’s best for you. The number of scenes you have will depend on how you like to work and the kind of show you’re doing. You might be happy to have one starting scene and do all the mixing as you go along. You might have a scene per band or per song. If you’re mixing a musical you might like to have a new scene every few lines, to deal with cast members coming on and off stage (see “further resources” for some more information about theatre’s approach to automation and line by line mixing). Find the settings and shortcuts that help you work most efficiently. Just keep everything clear and well-labeled for anyone who might need to step in. If you’re sharing mixing duties with others you will obviously need to work together to find a system that suits everyone.

Save early, save often: You should save each show file after soundcheck at the very least, even if nothing is going to change before the performance, as a backup. You should also save it after the show for when, or in case, you work with that act again. Apart from that, it’s good practice to save as often as you can, to make sure nothing gets lost. Some desks offer an autosave feature but don’t rely on it to save everything, or to save it at the right point. Store each scene before you move on to the next one when possible. Remember each scene is a starting point, so if you make manual changes during the scene reset them before saving.

Periodically save your show under a new name so you can roll back to a previous version if something goes wrong or the act changes their mind. You should save the current scene, then the show, then save it to two USB sticks which you store in different places in case you lose or damage one. It is a good idea to keep one with you and leave the other one either with the audio gear or with a trusted colleague, in case you can’t make it to the next show.

In case of emergency

If you find that your file isn’t recalling properly, all is not necessarily lost. First off, do not save anything until you’ve figured out the problem! You risk overwriting salvageable data with new/blank data.

Utility scenes

When you’re confident with your automation skills you can utilise scenes for more than just changing state during the show. Here are a few examples of how they can be used:

Master settings: As soon as you start adjusting the recall scope, you should have a “settings” scene where you store everything, including parameters you know won’t change during the performance. Then you can take those parameters out of the recall scope for the rest of the scenes so you don’t change them accidentally. It is very important that they are stored somewhere, to begin with though! As monitor engineer Dan Speed shared:

“Always have a snapshot where all parameters are within the recall scope and be sure to update it regularly so it’s relevant. I learnt this the hard way with a Midas when I recalled the safe scene [the desk’s “blank slate” scene] and lost a week’s worth of gain/EQ/dynamics settings 30 minutes before the band turned up to soundcheck!”

I would also personally recommend saving your gain in this scene only. Having gain stored in every scene can cause a lot of hassle if you need to soft patch your inputs for any reason (e.g. when you’re a guest engineer where they can’t accommodate your channel list as is) or you need to adjust the gain mid-gig because a mic has slipped, etc. If you need to change the gain you would then need to make a block edit while the desk is live, “safe” the affected channel’s gain alone (and so lose any gain adjustments you had saved in subsequent scenes anyway), or re-adjust the gain every time you change the scene: all ways to risk making unnecessary mistakes. Some people disagree, but for most live music cases at least, if you consistently find that you can’t achieve the level changes needed within a show from the faders and other tools on the desk, you should revisit your gain structure rather than include gain changes in automation. A notable exception to this would be for multi-band bills: If a few seconds of silence is acceptable, for example, if you’re doing monitors, it is best to save each band as their own show file and switch over. Otherwise, if you need to keep the changeover music or announcement mics live, you can treat each set as a mini-show within the file and have a “master” starting scene for each one, then take the gain out of any other scenes.

Line system check: If you need to test that your whole line system is working, rather than line checking a particular setup, you should plug a phantom-powered mic into each channel and listen to it (phantom power checkers don’t pick up everything that might be wrong with a channel. It’s best to check with your own ears while testing the line system). A scene where everything is flat, patched 1-1, and phantom is sent to every channel makes this quick and easy, and easy to undo when you move on to the actual setup.

Multitrack playback: If you have a multitrack recording of your show but your desk doesn’t have a virtual playback option, you can make your own. Make two scenes with just input patching in their recall scope: one with the mics patched to the channels, and one with the multitrack patched instead. Take input patching out of every other scene’s recall scope. Now you can use the patch scenes to flip between live and playback, without affecting the rest of the show file. (Thanks to the awesome Michael Nunan for this tip!).

Despite the length of this post, I have only scratched the surface when it comes to the power of automation and what can be achieved with it. Unfortunately, it also has the power to ruin your gig, and maybe even lose your work. Truly understanding the principles of automation and building simple, clear show files will help your show run smoothly, and give you a solid foundation from which to build more complex ones when you need them.

Further resources:

Sound designer Kirsty Gillmore briefly outlines how automation can be approached for mixing musicals in part 2 of her Soundgirls blog on the topic:  https://soundgirls.org/mixing-for-musicals-2/

Sound designer Gareth Owen explains the rationale for line by line mixing in musical theatre and demonstrates how automation makes it possible in this interview about Bat Out of Hell: https://youtu.be/25-tUKYqcY0?t=477

Aleš Štefančič from Sound Design Live has tips for Digico users and their sessions: https://www.sounddesignlive.com/top-5-common-mistakes-when-using-a-digico-console/

Nathan Lively from Sound Design Live has lots of great advice and tips for workflow and snapshots in his ultimate guide to mixing on a Digico SD5:

https://www.sounddesignlive.com/ultimate-guide-creative-mixing-digico-sd5-tutorial/

Back On The Road

 

I finally had the chance to get back to touring, albeit a very quick one. A last-minute call to jump onto a tour for a couple of weeks.

The first day was strange, mainly just being at an airport, being around so many people (there were a lot of people at LAX), and being on a plane. I landed to a text telling me the next day’s show was canceled. Good start! We were near the east coast and a tropical storm/hurricane was wreaking havoc. This was the story for most of my time on this tour. A show canceled, two days of rain on mobile stages, a show stopped halfway through the set for lightning strikes followed by the audience being evacuated to safety. And of course the constant threat of COVID/delta variant.

The touring side of it has been pretty smooth with everyone respecting the protocols; testing multiple times during the tour, wearing masks almost all of the time, no guests backstage for the most part (if you were backstage, you had to have a rapid test). We had to wear masks anytime we were indoors and anytime local crew/anyone, not in our bubble was around us. If we were outside and on stage with just our band and crew, we could take the masks off. This seemed to work really well. At times it was pretty rough having to wear a mask in the intense heat and humidity, but I know a lot of people have had to do this for a very long time so it’s a small sacrifice to be able to get back to work.

It’s crazy to think that people still don’t want to wear masks where it’s enforced. It literally affects our livelihoods and their enjoyment of events. If the band or crew catches it, the tour stops, they quarantine and the show does not go on. Everyone should be super grateful for those willing to risk their health to put on a show for the fans. I know I am.

Now I’m back home and back to triathlon training. Two very different worlds! No sudden weather events, no health scares. When all is said and done, however, it was good to be back!

On a side note, if anyone is curious how I transitioned my training whilst on the road (as I am currently in the middle of a rigorous Ironman training plan), I asked my coach what the best thing to do was and she said:

When you are away, it will depend on the facilities and the time you have available. It’s probably not worth trying to do a bad version of your programmed training riding on an old gym bike. It might help you maintain your fitness, but it won’t grow it.

The best approach is to do what you can, but don’t stress about it. Aim to complete your planned runs, and you can add a couple of short easy runs if you have the time (and energy). Add more than that, and on top of all the time on your feet in what sounds like a tough working situation will put you at risk of injury. Adding core strength and flexibility in the gym is likely to be more beneficial.

Don’t worry, you can get back into training properly on your return.

I think flexibility is the key for touring at the moment..do what you can and try to enjoy it. With the COVID protocols, I did a lot of hotel room bodyweight workouts (squats, planks, etc). You really only need a mat/towel and maybe a footrest (see photos!) It’s also been super key to continue to make healthy choices where possible. If it is within your control, choose healthy (smoothies and oatmeal, anyone?), if not, post-show pizza will have to do!! Hey.. sometimes you gotta live a little.

Give It Another Go

Giving things a go and trying something new, is one thing, to intentionally put yourself in.  In my last post, I encountered my most stressful job ever, I am going there again today. So I thought it would be interesting to write a before and after, not only for my own record, but maybe it can help you or someone you know.

My heart is pounding like I drank 3 cups of coffee. My stomach has the vibrations of a small earthquake. My whole body is tense and I keep reminding my shoulders to relax. Sometimes I feel paralyzed by fear and can’t move. As if I’m in great danger, except this threat is my job and it’s something I choose to subject myself to all the time. It’s a remnant of our ancestry where the danger was tigers and lions. Now it’s people and their expectations on me. I can’t shake it, it’s found me and won’t let go. I try once again to relax, and when I do, I just feel exhausted. My head is messy and foggy. I stopped drinking coffee ages ago and currently only have an on-and-off relationship with this hot steaming beautiful delight because of the anxiety and hormonal imbalance it brings.

I feel like an addict and I’m having horrible side effects. COME ON LINNEA! It’s ONLY a job!

“You’ve done it for years!” my therapist shouts across the ocean.

“Yes, but… “ I start…. “I wish I could flip a switch and I’ll be my old cool and chill self again.”

Who I think I used to be is irrelevant and not helping me now. Instead, I have to affirm and remind myself: I am not in danger, I am not stressed. It’s an old human survival instinct. The last time you did this job you had a horrible horrible time, but the worst is over, you have done it once and survived… you even got paid to go through it! Now you take that knowledge and you take this focus and you use it to your advantage. You bring extra bits that you might need and anything else that happens isn’t your fault. They have hired you to do your job with your expertise and they asked you back! They don’t know it was the most horrible experience you’ve ever been through. They don’t know about your worries and anxiety.

Ok, let’s also try rational thinking. You know how to be a sound engineer. You know most of the gear you will be using. Although you might not know where things are, that’s their job, to tell you where to find them. You know they are a bit disorganised and that frightens you, but once again, that’s their fault and if things run late because of it, it’s not your fault. Even if anything was your fault, why is that so scary!? You are a problem solver and you are great at it. The last gig you did there had lots of problems and you solved all of them. The gig went great and everyone except you was pleased. You will arrive before you are needed. You will sign in and get the keys, you will pick up equipment that is needed and you will set it up and do the job. The hotel’s system is difficult and if you need help with it, call someone. Ask for help. You have never been scared of asking for help and asking questions, so why the need to be so perfect and independent!?

After I finished writing the above I wrote to my friend who also works there. I asked for help. Ten minutes later I heard back from the music director and I now have all the info I need to do the job. I have calmed down. It’s in the same room I did last time, except this time it’s not a nine-piece band but two speakers talking. It should be simple enough and this guy will be there too. I am calm, I tell myself, but my aching body tells me otherwise. Yes, the crying and paralysis are over, but I am still anxious…

To be continued for when I get back tonight…

I did it! With zero problems! Well, there were two problems, one system problem that wasn’t down to me, just their complicated system. The other was a recording thing. I forgot I had to select the desk instead of the interface! Such an easy thing!!! Almost frustrated by how simple the fix was!

I had been super early, got-a-sandwich-in-a-café-nearby-and

-watched-some-Netflix-early. I knew where everything was, I made several choices, like the size of the speakers, that turned out perfect. Everything went smoothly. This time even I was pleased after it all.

I got on the tube, elevated, with that rush that only comes from a successful gig. It went amazing!

So would I do it again? Yes. Yes, I would. I have already booked a Drag Bingo and a party on the rooftop overlooking London. I can’t wait to come back and continue to kick ass! I repeat, what a rush it is to have a successful gig!

Remember, it’s not a tiger, it’s a gig.

I have an app I dearly recommend called Worry Tree. It’s a simple app with prompts for finding solutions to our worries. You write down your worries, then you can either decide to deal with it now or later, but you have to yourself come up with a solution. Even if the only thing you can think of is three deep breaths. I have the paid subscription which also allows you to fill in what kind of categories your worries fall into, like black and white thinking, catastrophizing, or a fortune teller (the ones I often fall into). So if you suffer from stress, worries or anxiety I highly recommend this one. 

 

From Day Job to Janet Jackson and P!nk

I was listening to an interview with Malcolm Weldon, production manager extraordinaire, and noticed some similarities between his entry to touring and my own. You probably all know by now that I have shared how I got started in my book “Girl on the Road: How to Break into Touring from a Female Perspective”, but I thought it would be useful to share a common theme for those currently looking to break into touring.

I met Malcolm on the P!nk tour in 2019 when Vance Joy was supporting. He was the production manager. I happened across an interview with him on YouTube on the Tour Management 101 page and wanted to take a listen to hear how he got his break. He lays out in great detail exactly how he got started. The thing that most stood out for me though, was that at the beginning when he was working sound, he also had a regular day job in a grocery store. You know my big lesson is to save up money whilst working a regular job, while making contacts and learning, before jumping ship and getting on the road. This is exactly how to do it. Work a regular job but also fit in side jobs in your chosen field. Luckily regular jobs are 9 am to 5 pm and gigs are 5 pm until midnight! Whilst you may not get much sleep, you will be able to pay the bills whilst learning your craft and getting a foot in the door.

I did exactly this as well. I worked at a ticket call centre during the day and would immediately head to the rehearsal studio after I finished doing the evening shift. I was so excited to be working at this rehearsal studio that it didn’t matter that I was tired! I knew this was my way forward. Then when I started getting more shifts, it became viable to leave my regular 9 to 5 job and just work at the studio. I did need to downsize my living and expenses because it’s a fine line between being available to say yes to shifts and also having enough money for bills.. this is where you need to save, save, save whilst you have the regular job. It seems boring to do any other job unrelated to audio or backline, but trust me, it will set you up for when you need to make that leap.

There will also be no stress as to whether you get called for a sound gig or stage hand work if you’re working in a grocery store, because you know you’ll have a paycheck each week. Also, make sure you’re doing a great job at your regular job because you’re inevitably going to need time off and you’ll want them to say yes because they want to keep you at that job!!

Just remember the bigger picture, and when you see someone of Malcolm’s stature (Janet Jackson tours, P!nk tours.. can’t really get any bigger), you think, gosh how do I get there? Well, it started by working in a grocery store.

 

11 gigs in 10 days

After the first one I felt so tired I almost cried of exhaustion. By the sixth I cried from a nervous breakdown, the 10th I danced and 11th I was DONE!

The sixth one was special and not at my regular venue. This special one-off gig was at a hotel I had never been to before. From the moment I got the job, my anxiety increased by the day. If you don’t already know, the feeling of excitement and anxiety are closely related. A racing heart, that lump in your stomach that makes you wanna hurl and the shakes are common symptoms of these extreme feelings. Except for my anxiety also makes me feel terrified and paralyzed. It’s the fight or flight response of our brain and mine says “RUN”.

You’d think that after so many years of being an engineer that I’d be cool as a cucumber. But this was the most stressful job I have ever done in my life! Questions from the touring engineer were fired at me: “Do you have a rug for the drums? Why aren’t the monitors working? Have you got more stands?” I felt useless and clueless since I didn’t know the answers! I was not in control and all of my human needs took the back seat. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning and I was so dehydrated no saliva was left in my mouth. Yet, I am a problem solver and ran at 190% so the event was still a success. Yes, it ran a little late, maybe 10 min, and the touring engineer that came with the band, a nine-piece by the way, smiled for the first time. It’s terribly difficult to be the “in-house” engineer when you’ve never worked there before!

The DJs were on, the band played and I finally found some water. After we’ve packed up the PA and all of the gear and put it back into storage, I said my goodbyes and took the train home. About half an hour later, when the adrenaline left my body, I started to uncontrollably cry. I was exhausted and all of the pent-up anxiety, stress, and all of that cortisol that had kept me going, now let me feel what I really felt like. My finacé took my puppy Elvis and met me on the short walk from the station and I sobbed the whole way. Away from people and with someone I trust, I allowed myself to have a delayed anxiety attack. Because finally, I was with him and didn’t need to hide my mental health disorder. I can’t help to think I wouldn’t get hired or treated the same way if I told my clients and employers about my mental health…

Our way forward to a humane and fair understanding of our mental health is tricky, but I am hopeful. For now, I talk to my therapist, cuddle my fluffy pup, and cry in my fiancé’s arms. At home, I can be true to who I am and rest, because that’s exactly what I need now.

Remember to not neglect yourself when working.

How to Make a Good First Impression in Live Events

 

Working for new companies and clients can be nerve-wracking, especially if you’re new to live events in general. Every workplace is different, but there are plenty of things you can do to make a positive and lasting first impression, and land that all-important second gig.

Before you get there

Before you even meet your new client in person, you’re already making an impression on them. If you’re sending out your resume/CV, make sure it’s the best it can be  (Career Development: Resources for Resumes and Social Media) and take the time to craft a professional cover letter. It is an employer’s market out there: audio companies and venues are very busy, and if your email doesn’t catch their attention they won’t even bother reading your resume. It’s common for people to perform internet searches of potential hires, so make sure you are happy with what they’ll find (Networking on Social Media).

For all text communication, bear in mind that it’s human nature to interpret it more negatively than you intended (Flaming emails: Why email causes misunderstanding, rage and frustration (and what to do about it). You don’t have to sound like a robot, but try to be clear and positive, and avoid all but the most obvious jokes. Don’t use sarcasm unless you already know the person well, it is far too easily misinterpreted.

Have a folder on your phone or in the cloud with all your important documents, like photo ID, passport, and insurance policies. That way they’re all ready to go when you’re asked for them, and you can send them in seconds rather than making your client wait until you get back from your current gig to catch up on admin on your computer. You get to look efficient and professional, and you don’t have to remember to do it later.

On the job

Entire books could be written about how to act on gigs. As Heather Augustine says: “Most of the tour [or any gig] advice boils down to don’t be an idiot and don’t be an asshole.” (Tips for Touring). As a rule of thumb, just follow the more experienced people’s lead, unless they’re being negative and rude. As the newbie, you should be more enthusiastic and polite than the more established techs, and err on the side of caution until you get a feel for the work environment. There are certain things you shouldn’t do until you’ve “paid your dues”, e.g. making personal comments about colleagues that you don’t know well enough, but you should get the general vibe pretty quickly.

Be nice: This is just general advice for life, but particularly apt in a new job. Be nice to everyone, not just the people you think are important. It is simply the right thing to do, but if you need more convincing, there are plenty of workplaces where the people in the shop/warehouse or stagehands have long and close relationships with management, and their feedback on you is just as valued as your crew boss’s. Don’t get caught up thinking some people are more important than others. Plus, most people are happy to fill gaps in your knowledge, but no one has the time to rehabilitate a crappy attitude.

Similarly, don’t fall into tribal warfare with other departments. We’re all on the same team, fighting over resources or space will just piss people off. If you screw someone else over on the load in you’ll just have to rearrange what you did, later in the day when everything is plugged in so it’s a much bigger pain in the behind. Take the initiative and approach other departments at the start of the day to discuss what works best for all of you.

Keep it clean: Keep your work neat and easy to follow. Label everything so anyone can understand it. Don’t think “Oh, but I know what that means.” You might not be around when that area needs to be troubleshot, and your colleagues will appreciate clarity while they’re under pressure. Even if you’re fixing it yourself, labeling reduces confusion and silly mistakes in the heat of the moment. Clean up after yourself. Don’t leave scraps of tape and uncoiled cables all over the place for someone else to pick up after you. You’re a grown-up!

Keep busy: A new job can be overwhelming, and you can feel like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do. If you’re stuck, just keep asking your colleagues what you can do for them. If they’re busy, you should be too. Even if they say there’s nothing you can do, offer to get them a drink or tidy up. Unless you’re in a union, you chose a career that doesn’t include a lunch hour. Eat your meals when you have time, don’t just drop everything when the food arrives. If you do take a break, make sure it’s at an appropriate point, let people know where you’re going, and be contactable at all times.

Do the crappy jobs: You’re new. It doesn’t matter what roles you’ve done before. The crappy jobs in our industry aren’t even that crappy. Just do them, and be cheery about it. That will earn you mega brownie points.

Put the phone down, pick a cable up: There is an ongoing debate around how useful social media self-promotion is in our field. Regardless of whether an arty shot of the load in dock and a dozen hashtags will land you more future clients, taking photos while you’re supposed to be working risks losing you your current one. Only post on social media when you’re on a break, or after the gig altogether. Ask before posting anything that wouldn’t have been visible to the audience. Our work is often subject to non-disclosure agreements, which might have been buried in your contract’s small print or even signed on your behalf without your knowledge. It’s taken as read that as a professional you won’t share inappropriately on social media. Don’t take photos or videos of celebrities backstage without their express permission. Ever. Only ask if someone more experienced asks first. We work with famous people all the time; be cool about it.

Be honest: It can be tough to walk the line between underselling yourself and bullshitting. You want to have the chutzpah to get the job, but don’t lie, and once you’re there be honest about your abilities. If you can’t do something, say so and ask for help with it. Don’t ask someone to do it for you, even if they could do it themselves. Show willingness and learn from your colleagues who are taking the time to teach you.

When talking shop, don’t be tempted to exaggerate. This is a close-knit community and people are nosey. If you say you were on a certain tour or worked for a particular company, people will ask their friends from there what they thought of you. If they find out you were overstating your role or straight-up lying, it will not go down well. You should be proud of the things you have done anyway! If you did the hospitality tent at a festival for a small audio company, that’s great! Massaging the truth until you worked “with” the major company who supplied the main stage and it turns out they’ve never heard of you? Embarrassing at best.

Don’t be afraid to ask questions: I would much rather someone ask what could be seen as a stupid question five times then get it right than just guessing and get it wrong. We deal with big, heavy, expensive things and electricity; always ask if you’re unsure. You might encounter people who openly mock you for not knowing something, but that’s on them. We all have different backgrounds and there’s a lot to learn in our job. You can’t know everything, and the only way to learn is to ask. Don’t let mean people shame you out of a good habit.

It’s also good to ask questions about things you don’t understand, to show how enthusiastic you are. If you finish your tasks then just sit on your phone when you could be learning something, that will be noticed. Don’t hassle people when they’re busy, but healthy curiosity is appreciated, and an ego boost for the person you’re asking to enlighten you.

Bring a bag of tricks: You don’t have to bring a massive workbox full of fancy tools on your first gig (indeed, you probably shouldn’t. They take up a lot of space), but having a few choice adapters and gadgets in your bag as soon as you can afford them will earn you a reputation for being helpful and prepared. There is plenty of inspiration in Elisabeth Weidner’s post: What’s in Your Go Bag. I would recommend starting with a multimeter (good for testing power distros and continuity in cables), a phantom power checker, lots of Sharpies, and ⅛” to ¼” headphone adapters. I’m pretty sure when Luke said “Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what is yours, do not demand it back,” in the Bible (Luke 6:30), he was talking about headphone adapters. You can get a pack of adequate quality ones for about $/£1 each; just gift them to people when they ask to borrow them. The same goes for Sharpies. You’re never going to see them again anyway, you might as well be a magnanimous baller about it instead of wasting your time trying to chase them down again.

Don’t take it personally: The fast-paced, high-stakes nature of our job means that tensions can run high and people can be blunt or downright rude in the heat of the moment. Like working in a restaurant kitchen, people might yell and swear but it’s just part of the job. If it happens, don’t take it personally. You aren’t the first to be shouted at and you won’t be the last. Sustained abuse or bullying is different of course, but the occasional outburst is to be expected. Just do what needs doing quickly and if it was really hurtful, discuss it at a calmer moment later.

Don’t stress: You should always try your best, but don’t beat yourself up if you make a mistake. It isn’t about how you messed up, it’s how you deal with it. Learn what you can from it and move on. If you let it get to you, you’ll end up focusing on it and making more mistakes because you’re distracted. If you’re open and upfront about it and apologise, that will be remembered for much longer than whatever it was that went wrong.

Everyone was new once. As long as you have a helpful, enthusiastic attitude everything else is secondary. If you put the effort in and make your colleagues’ lives easier, you should be welcome back in any workplace again and again.

The “Gibbs Rules” of Being a Stagehand

When I was in high school, my family’s go-to TV show was NCIS. We’d put it on in the background over dinner, or watch reruns on the USA channel when nothing else good was on TV. By the time I left to go to college, I must have subconsciously taken in hundreds of episodes!

For those who aren’t familiar, the show is about a team with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service who work to solve murders of Navy or Navy-affiliated persons. The team is lead by Special Agent Gibbs, a former marine with a big heart and a sometimes short temper. He’s far from a perfect person, but he has a strong moral compass that he uses to inspire his team to do their best work to solve these mysteries. One of the ways we learn about Gibbs’ particular brand of moral code is through a philosophy known as Gibbs’ Rules. The NCIS Fan Wiki defines them thus:

“Gibbs’s Rules are an extensive series of guidelines that NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs lives by and teaches to the people he works closely with.” (Source: https://ncis.fandom.com/wiki/Gibbs%27s_Rules). Some of the rules are things you might expect to hear on a crime TV show, such as “Never let suspects stay together” or “Always wear gloves at a crime scene.” Others, however, are more universal and can be taken as good lessons for life in general. Some of my favorites of these include “When the job is done, walk away” and “Don’t believe what you’re told. Double-check.”

As I started getting more involved in theatre throughout high school and college, I started trying to figure out how to compile everything I was learning into a sort of guide for myself. Classmates, teachers, and mentors were giving me all sorts of great tidbits of advice, and I was scribbling them all down in an unorganized jumble to be able to refer back to later. I began thinking about how I could organize it into some sort of guide that I could add to and share as my career continued, and naturally, Gibbs’ Rules came to mind!

I called the document I wound up creating “Gibbs’ Rules of Stage Management,” because initially, I was training to be a stage manager. But as I got into mixing and sound design, it seemed like a lot of the rules didn’t have to just be for stage managers. And the more people I shared them within different fields of entertainment, the more I realized that a lot of them can be applied pretty universally across our industry. So here, for your perusal and enjoyment, are some annotated selections from the 2021 Gibbs’ Rules of Being a Stagehand. If you would like to see the entire collection, it will be posted on my website, beccastollsound.com, in the next few days!

2021 Gibbs’ Rules of Being a Stagehand

Rule #1: ALL HUMANS ARE STUPID (AND EVERYONE’S HUMAN).

This is one of my favorites. It speaks to the fact that people make mistakes, and it’s important to cut people slack and not hold it against them.

Rule #6: GIVE LOTS OF THANKS, EXPECT NONE IN RETURN.

Unfortunately, those of us who work behind the scenes are often not adequately recognized for our contributions, especially compared to the onstage talent. Try your best not to let it get you down or give you a bad attitude.

Rule #7: EVERYTHING IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE.

In stage management and production management, it is common to put “subject to change” in the footer of most paperwork. We’re making organic art after all, and we’re making it in the moment, so there’s no way to predict everything that will happen!

Rule #11: EVERYTHING IS SUBJECT TO UN-CHANGE

A corollary to Rule #7. Especially applicable on new musicals, where a scene or song that got cut yesterday could go back into the show today. Keep good archives, and don’t throw anything out until closing!

Rule #13: IT’S PROBABLY GOOD IF AT LEAST ONE PERSON KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE.

This one was inspired by the actual Gibbs’ Rule #3, which is “never be unreachable.” But in this age of smartphones, push notifications,  and constantly feeling the need to be “on-call” for work, I think it’s important to reclaim the ability to take time for yourself and not have to immediately answer to everyone. On the other hand, if you simply stop picking up your phone, people might worry that something has happened to you because that’s the kind of world we live in now. So strike a healthy balance between the two.

Rule #19: IT’S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL.

In NYC theatre this is commonly known as the “5 block rule.” Meaning that if you are talking smack about someone or something within 5 blocks of the theatre, it’s going to become back to bite you. Everyone knows everyone, and no one will ever forget you. People’s friends/assistants/partners will refer or recommend you and it counts. Read the room and don’t burn bridges.

Rule #24: IF YOU CAN’T SAY YES, DON’T SAY NO.

People are going to ask you for impossible things. People are going to ask you for hints that aren’t your job to do. Saying “no” just shuts the conversation down rather than fostering collaboration. Even if something is 100% impossible, the best answer to start with is “I’ll look into it” or “let me get back to you.”

Rule #25: THE SHOW MUST GO ON (EXCEPT WHEN IT CAN’T).

This rule is credited to my stage management professor, Tina Shackleford. And wow, does it read differently post-pandemic!

Rule #26: WHEN IN DOUBT, DRESS TO IMPRESS.

My mom came up with this one ☺ If appearance or apparel is something that helps you to feel motivated or prepared, by all means, use that to your advantage! Dress in a way that makes you feel awesome on the inside but also shows you are prepared for the occasion, whether it’s a corporate interview or an arena load-in. And always wear close-toed shoes.

Rule #33: NOTHING CAN BE TESTED TOO MANY TIMES.

This rule is from Shannon Slaton, author of the excellent book Mixing a Musical.

Rule #34: KNOWING WHAT YOU’RE DOING IS ONLY 1/3 OF THE JOB.

Credit for this one goes to NYC-based sound designer Dan Miele. As I’ve outlined in many a blog post, so much of this job is people skills, improvising, and just making things work in a very short amount of time! Yes, the hard skills matter, but the soft skills (plus a good attitude and a willingness to collaborate) matter almost as much if not more!

Rule #35: ALWAYS READ YOUR CONTRACT.

Always Always Always! Read the whole thing. Top to bottom. Read all the fine print. Ask questions about anything in it that is unclear. Run it by mentors and friends.The last thing you want is to be blindsided by something you signed before you fully understood what you were signing. Just read it!

Rule #40: DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND STAY IN YOUR LANE.

It’s noble to want to help people. In theatre we all pitch in to make it work, right? The problem is that it can be easy to over-exert yourself trying to help others, and suddenly your own job begins to suffer as a result. We’ve all been there. Over the years I have come to see having my one specific job to do as an absolute blessing in disguise. It allows me to focus on the things that are mine to control, and not worry about the things that aren’t. So if it’s not your job, don’t do it. If it’s not your problem, don’t make it your problem. Not trying to be everything to everyone is not only an act of self-preservation, but it is better for the overall show if everyone is able to take on their own workload and not burn out doing the jobs of other people as well. So as often as possible, make best efforts to stay in your box.  Do your own job well and trust that others will do theirs.

As always, comments and questions welcome! What are some of your personal “Gibbs’ Rules?”

Depression, Anxiety, and Hope from a Roadie In The Age of Covid

Dear Everyone, you are not alone.

 

**TRIGGER WARNING: This blog contains personal content surrounding issues of mental health including depression and anxiety, and the Covid-19 pandemic. Reader discretion is advised.**

The alarm on my phone went off at 6:30 a.m.

I rolled out of my bunk, carefully trying to make as little noise as possible as I gathered my backpack, clothes, and tool bag before exiting the bus.

The morning air felt cool against my face as I looked around me trying to orient myself in the direction of the loading dock to the arena. Were we in New York? Ohio? Pennsylvania? In the morning before coffee, those details were difficult to remember.

Passed the elephant door, the arena sprawled out before me, empty and suspensefully silent. I looked up with a mixed sense of awe and critical analysis as I noted the three tiers of the arena, the red seats forming distinct geometrical shapes between each section. As I made my way out to the middle of the deceivingly large room, I looked toward the ground in hopes of finding that tell-tale button marking the middle of the room, if I was lucky.

As I set up my tripod, I heard the footsteps of the rigging team as they began stretching out their yellow measuring tapes across the cement floor. The clapping of their feet echoed in the room and soon the sound of their voices calling out distances joined the chorus in the reverb tails.

I turned on my laser and pulled out my notepad, the pen tucked in my hair as I aimed for the first measurement.

Then I woke up.

Up above me, all I could see was the white air-tile of the basement ceiling while the mini-fridge hummed in the corner of the room.

For a few seconds, or maybe it was a full minute, I had absolutely no idea where I was.

I wanted to scream.

I lay in bed for what could have been 15 minutes or an hour, telling myself I had to get out of bed. I couldn’t just lay here. I had to do something. Get up. Get UP.

Eventually, I made my way upstairs and put on a pot of water for coffee. When I opened my phone and opened Facebook, I saw a status update from a friend about a friend of a friend who had passed away. My heart sank. I remembered doing a load-in with that person. Years ago, at a corporate event in another city, in another lifetime. They didn’t post details on what had happened to them. Frankly, it wasn’t anyone’s business, but the family and those closest to them. Yet my heart felt heavy.

Six months ago, or maybe more, time had ceased to have any tangible meaning at this point, I had been sitting in a restaurant in Northern California when the artists told the whole tour that we were all going home. Tomorrow. Like a series of ill-fated dominoes, events were canceling one-by-one across the country and across the world. Before I knew it, I was back in my storage unit at my best friend’s house, trying to shove aside the boxes I had packed up 4 or 5 months earlier to make room for an inflatable mattress so I had somewhere to sleep. I hadn’t really expected to be “home” yet so I hadn’t really come up with a plan as to what I was going to do.

Maybe I’ll go camping for the next month or so. Try to get some time to think. I loved nature and being out in the trees always made me feel better about everything, so maybe that was the thing to do. Every day I looked at the local newspaper’s report of the number of Covid-19 cases in California. It started out in the double digits. The next day it was in the triple digits. Then it grew again. And again. Every day the numbers grew bigger and notices of business closing and areas being restricted filled the pages and notifications across the Internet.

Fast-forward and the next thing I knew, I was packing all my possessions into a U-Haul trailer and driving across the country to be with my sister in Illinois. She had my baby niece a little over a year ago, so I figured the best use of my time would be to spend time with my family while I could.

I was somewhere driving across Kansas when the reality of what was happening hit me. As someone who loved making lists and planning out everything from their packing lists to their hopes and dreams in life, I—for once—literally had no idea what I was doing. This seemed like the best idea I could think of at the time.

Fast-forward and I was sitting on the phone in the basement of my sister’s house in the room she had graciously fabricated for me out of sectioned-off tapestries. I looked at the timestamp on my phone for how long I had been on hold with the Unemployment Office. Two hours and thirty minutes. It took twenty calls in a row to try and get through to someone at the California Employment Development Department. At the three-hour mark, the line disconnected. I just looked down at my phone.

I remember one Christmas when I was with my dad’s side of the family at dinner, I tried to explain what I do to them.

“So you are a DJ, then?” my aunt asked enthusiastically, believing that she had finally gotten it right.

“No,” I said.

“Do you play with the band?” my uncle asked.

“No, I’m the person who tries to make sure everyone in the audience can hear the band,” I tried to laugh.

Everyone laughed that sort of half-laugh when you try to pretend you get the joke, but you don’t actually get it.

Across my social media feeds, friends, colleagues, acquaintances, and everyone in between, were all sharing updates of how they had to get “real jobs”, how they couldn’t get through to unemployment or their state had completely failed to get them any unemployment at all, how they were angry, desperate, and how they needed to feed their families. Leaders in the industry grew from the motivation of trying to speak out on behalf of the live events industry to the government, pleading for financial relief for businesses, venues, individuals, and more, and my feeds flooded with initiatives and campaigns for awareness of the plight of the live events industry.

Yet when I talked to people who were not in the industry, they seemed to have no idea that the live events sector had been affected at all. Worse yet, I realized more and more that so few people had any idea of what people in the live events industry actually do. Organizations struggled to get news channels to do exposés on the subject, and perhaps it was because there were so many people across every sector of every industry that were struggling. In one conversation with a friend, I had explained that there were nearly 100 people on a tour that I had worked on between the production, tech crew, artist’s tech crew, everyone. They couldn’t believe so many people were working behind the scenes at one concert.

Yet the more I talked about my job and the more time that passed, the more I felt like I was talking about a dream. This fear grew inside me that there was no end in sight to all this and the stories started to repeat themselves and it started to feel like these were stories of what had been, not what was. It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate when talking to people about “regular” things in our daily lives because it was not work. Talking about the weather was not talking about rigging plots or truckloads, so my brain just refused to focus on it. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about the industry: watching webinars, learning new things because I just wanted so desperately to go back to my career that I fabricated schedules and deadlines around other obligations to feel like work was still there.

Then the thought that underpinned all this rose up like a monster from the sea:

Who am I without my job?

I read an article Dave Grohl wrote [1] about performing and playing music on-stage for people, how there was nothing like that feeling in the whole world. I think he hit on something that, in effect, is really indescribable to anyone who has not worked in the live events world. There was a feeling unlike any other of standing in a room with tens of thousands of people screaming at deafening levels. There was a feeling unlike any other of standing alone in a room listening to a PA and crafting it to sound the way you wanted it to. There was a feeling unlike any other of hearing motors running in the morning while pulling a snake across an arena floor. There was a feeling unlike any other of complete, utter exhaustion riding a bus in the morning to the next load-in after doing 4, 5, 6, however many gigs in a row. I tried to explain these feelings to my friends and family who listened with compassion, but I couldn’t help but feel that sometimes they were just pretending to get the joke.

Days, weeks, months floated by and the more time passed, the more I felt like I was floating in a dream. This was a bad dream that I would wake up from. It had to be. Then when I came to reality and realized that this was not a dream, that this was where I was in my life now, it felt like my brain and the entire fabric of my being was splitting in two. It was not unbeknownst to me how fortunate I was with my sister taking me in. Every morning I tried to say 5 things I was grateful for to keep my spirits up and my sister was always one of them.

The painful irony was that I had stopped going to therapy in January 2020 because I felt I had gotten to an OK point in my life where I was good for now. I had gotten where I needed to for the time being and I could shelve all the other stuff for now until I had time to address them. Then suddenly I had all the time in the world and while shut down in quarantine, all those things in my brain I told myself I would deal with later…Well, now I had no other choice than to deal with them, and really this all intersected with the question at hand of who was I without my job.

And I don’t think I was alone

The thing people don’t tell you about working in the industry is the social toll it takes on your life and soul. The things you give up and the parts of yourself you give up to make it a full-time gig. Yet there is this mentality of toughing it through because there are 3,000 other people waiting in line to take your spot and if you falter for even just one step, you could be gone and replaced just as easily. Organizations focusing on mental health in the industry started to arise from the pandemic because, in fact, it wasn’t just me. There are many people who struggle to find that balance of life and work let alone when there is a global health crisis at hand. All this should make one feel less alone, and to some extent it does. The truth is that the journey towards finding yourself is, as you would imagine, something each person has to do for themself. And my reality was that despite all the sacrifices needed for this job, all I wanted to do was run back to it as fast as I could.

Without my work, it felt like a huge hole was missing from my entire being. That sense of being in a dream pervaded my every waking moment and even in my dreams, I dreamt of work to the point where I had to take sleeping aids just so I would stop thinking about it in my dreams too. I found myself at this strange place in my life where I reunited myself with hobbies that I previously cast aside for touring life and trying to appreciate what happiness they could offer. More webinars and industry discussions popped up about “pivoting” into new industries or fields and in some of these, you could physically see the pain in the interviewees’ faces as they tried to discuss how they had made their way in another field.

One day I was playing with my baby niece and I told her we had to stop playing to go do something, but we would come back to playing later. She just looked at me in utter bewilderment and said, “No! No! No!” Then I remembered that small children have no concept of “now” versus “later”. Everything literally is in the “now” for them. It struck me as something very profound that my niece lived completely in the moment. Everything was a move from one activity to the next, always moving forward. So with much effort and pushback against every fiber of my future-thinking self, I just stopped trying to think of anything further than the next day ahead of me. Just move one foot in front of the other and be grateful every day that I am here in what’s happening at this moment.

Now with the vaccination programs here in the United States and the rumblings of movement trickling across the grapevine, it feels like for the first time in more than a year that there is hope on the horizon. There is a part of me that is so desperate for it to be true and part of me that is suspiciously wary of it being true. Like seeing the carrot on the ground, but being very aware of the fact there is a string attached to it that can easily pull the carrot away from you once more.

There is a hard road ahead and a trepidatious one, at that. Yet after months and months of complete uncertainty, there is something to be said about having hope that things will return to a new type of “normal”. Because “normal” would imply that we would return to how things were before 2020. I believe that there is good change and reflection that came in the pause of the pandemic that we should not revert back from: a collective reflection on who we are, whether we wanted to address it to ourselves or not.

What will happen from this point moving forward is anyone’s gamble, but I always like to think that growth doesn’t come from being comfortable. So with one foot in front of the other, we move forward into this next phase of time. And like another phrase that seems to come up over and over again, “Well, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.”

References:

[1]https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2020/05/dave-grohl-irreplaceable-thrill-rock-show/611113/

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