Brian Doherty

The RCA record. The result of the Gainsville sessions.

The Gainesville Sessions–(The following post is a continuation of my January 5th posting).  In my opinion The Silos of the late 80’s/early 90’s were a one of a kind, rock ‘n roll band. The band’s music lay somewhere between The Stones, The Outlaws, and Gram Parsons.  I always felt that The Silos had unlimited potential and could have set the tone for a generation of guitar-driven rock bands.  Those of us involved with the band knew it outright.  Although our RCA record got great reviews, the way the Gainesville/RCA sessions unfolded was a complete disappointment.  The record was a dud.  The best recording of the band to this day is a series of live recordings, captured on tour by our soundman Joe Chinnici.  They’re not commercially released, but if you ever get your hands on them, you’ll hear for yourself.  This particular line-up of The Silos remained intact until 1992 and was a powerhouse on tour.  I stayed on a little longer (something I’m unfortunately prone to do) than did J.D. Foster and Bob Rupe, recording more tracks that ended up on subsequent Silos records.  My last tour with the band was a grueling six-week van tour of Germany, Austria, Spain and Switzerland.  The following is my story as the band’s drummer during this period and of our only major label recording. (Reprinted from the 1/5/10 posting, The Silos/Part 1.  It can be read here http://briandoherty.net/the-silospart-1/).

We recorded at this abandoned theater. The marquee plugs our upcoming gig at a downtown club.

Listening to playback after a long day. Is that Bob giving the "peace" sign?

We lived in the town of Gainesville, Florida while recording The Silos, “The one with the bird on the cover.”  We recorded at an abandoned, downtown theater.  We set up our gear in a large circle in the center of the stage.  Looking out into the darkness of the house we could see silhouettes of the theater seats.  We occasionally moved our gear to the hallways and lobby for tracking and overdubs.  J.D. and I spent days tracking in the basement of the building, isolated from the rest of the band.  Not exactly the life Rock stars.

Gainesville is a huge college town and has one of the largest biking communities in the world.  I rode my bicycle to work at the Florida Theater every day.  We enjoyed long lunches at joints called Coney Island and Sonny’s Barbeque.  In my spare time, I took leisurely jogs and swam in the pool.  This is also where I taught myself how to type.  There was significant down time so I bought an instructional book and practiced typing every day.  At the time, it was one way to escape boredom.  I became a good typist during the Gainesville sessions and, to this day, am thankful for this skill.

I shared a condo with bassist J.D. Foster and producer Peter J Moore.  J.D. introduced me to some great music during this time.  I remember constantly listening to the first Lucinda Williams recording and to New York by Lou Reed.  Today, when I hear these tracks I’m transported back to the condo with its rented furniture and shag rug.

The Rehearsals

Rehearsing for a recording involves band practice, scrutiny of instrumental parts and lots of experimentation. It’s a collaborative effort and could be satisfying when improvements are made.  Hopefully, the music will sound better too.

None of that happened for us.  I knew we were in trouble when the only suggestion Peter Moore gave us was to jam and noodle a while before rehearsing.   The producer is supposed to be the band’s musical guide and beacon.  After the first day, it was clear that we had another engineer and no producer in our midst.  Rehearsals from then on consisted of running through songs from beginning to end.  After the last note of a song, the band would wait for some direction or opinion.  When none came, we’d run through the same song once again.  This was our rehearsal routine, and the songs suffered because of it.

Peter J. Moore

Before producing our record, Peter J. Moore worked with The Cowboy Junkies.  There was an industry buzz about his recording technique because he used only one microphone.  No multi-tracking and no overdubbing.  Peter accomplished this with a Calrec Ambisonic microphone.  This microphone was unique in that it hears in a 360 degree radius, as opposed to most mics which hear a single field at which they’re pointed.  The use of this microphone was the only trick up Pete’s sleeve.  He set it up in the middle of the stage, where it remained like an oracle.

Otherwise, there was never a clear objective, and the air around the band was always tense.  Walter became the man with the final musical say.  He simply said “no” to everything.  Takes that satisfied the band were garbage to Walter.  Suggestions regarding arrangements and orchestrations were dismissed with a condescending look that signaled “You just don’t understand.”

After a while, J.D. and I began challenging Walter’s musical judgment.  He then became vague, often citing obscure musical references just to make situations more confusing.  The whole scene was bullshit, and no one was saying anything.  Bob and Walter were not really talking.  Walter had asked for complete control, had gotten it.  However, he didn’t know what to do with it.  To make matters worse, he wasn’t confident enough to ask for input or admit his mistakes.  The recording was a complete disaster.  Eventually, the subtext of every musical conversation with Walter was: “Deal with it or I’ll replace you.”  He would no longer be challenged by any of us.

Recording the song Maybe Everything

There were a few musically fulfilling days during our month of recording in Gainesville.  Walter had become ill and did not show up for work.  Predictably, the tracks we laid in his absence would be squashed by him the very next day.

Grasshopper and the Master.  Things came into focus when it was revealed that during college, Walter spent some time studying in Gainesville and had become close to a professor who also had a band call The Vulgar Boatmen.  Unbeknownst to us, Walter had viewed this professor as a mentor of sorts.  In a sense recording in this town was Grasshopper’s way of showing the Master he had completed his journey and was now a man of the world.  Oy vey! I felt duped by this narcissist.  Walter’s master lurked at our sessions.  Later on tour, The Vulgar Boatmen would be our opening act.

Walter finally got his way and replaced J.D. and me on two songs: Go out of Town (here’s a live performance of the song with me on drums: http://briandoherty.net/the-silos-well-go-out-of-town/ ) and Caroline. After days of Walter kyboshing take after take, he finally jumped on my drum kit one night after I left and ordered tapes to roll.  Miraculously, he approved both final takes.  When I found out, I wasn’t surprised; instead, I asked to be properly credited as playing only on the tracks I worked on.  Instead the credits list Walter AND me as the drummers ON THE ENTIRE RECORD!  (See the scan of album credits below.)  To the listener, there was no way to tell his drum tracks from mine. 

The Silos album credits. The listener can't discern my drum tracks from Walter's.

Newsweek review.

The Outcome

In spite of everything I’ve written I want to say that The Silos was one of the best and most unique bands I’ve ever been in. There wasn’t a weak song in our repertoire and the fans were beyond dedicated.  Live, the band was on fire and we had loads of fun travelling.  From a musician’s standpoint one couldn’t ask for anything more.  Before joining The Silos, I toured with jazz artists like Jonathan Butler, Lonnie Liston Smith and Noel Pointer.  Jazz was relatively new to me at the time and I learned a lot by playing it.  My musical roots, however, were strictly Southern Rock.  In high school I listened exclusively to Molly Hatchet, Blackfoot, Lynard Skynard and .38 Special.  The band that struck me the most was The Outlaws.  Two drummers, a wall of guitars and pop/country vocal arrangements were all I could have wished for.  The Silos music had many elements of Southern Rock.  Joining the band, especially after years of playing jazz, was like a homecoming.

My favorite snares wait for a good beating.

The complete recording set up. Kenny Margolis, Walter, Bob Rupe, J.D. Foster, and Brian Doherty (l-r)

That might explain why I expected the RCA record to capture the essence of the band and why I was so disappointed when I heard the final mixes.  Honestly, I thought the record was horrible.  It was nowhere close to how we really sounded.  The irony was that we hired a producer whose specialty was capturing the essence of bands by using one microphone.  Like an old Miles Davis record.  Even with our vintage gear and our “authentic” recording technique, we ended up with dud of a record.

As far as the interpersonal stuff is concerned, I want the reader to realize that this was nothing unique in our situation.  Every band goes through this crap.  Sometimes it’s just a matter of how well they put up with it and how long they can work around it.  I had already been in a bunch of other bands and had experienced run away egos and self-absorbed musicians.  This wasn’t just a great band; it was also a tremendous opportunity that we mishandled.  Otherwise, I was well prepared to handle tough situations as it related to my work in The Silos.  It’s unfortunate that our efforts were squandered and our hard work didn’t pay off.

WTF? J.D. in our condo.

Stage right. Pete's office. He also fixed gear here.

Vintage? Whatever. Nothing beats a Yamaha kick drum.

Walter, Brian Doherty, Mark Zoltak, Bob Rupe

Engineer Ed Bair gets my vote for MVP.

Peter Yianolis inside the mobile control room.

Peter Moore and I listen to some playback.

J.D and Bob at ease. The Calrec front and center.

Coming soon, the final blog of this series: School’s Out Tour, Who’s on Bass?, Good Press=Bad Sales, “Where’s Bob?” and Saved by Can You Fly.

Related links:

http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/album/137649/review/5943972/thesilos

http://briandoherty.net/the-silos-well-go-out-of-town/

http://briandoherty.net/the-silospart-1/

This song is from Can You Fly.  I’m proud of the drum tracks on this record and consider them some of the best I’ve done.  (Ironically, Freedy and I never worked together again after the completion of this album).  We recorded this album in two groups of sessions separated by 13 months.  The first round of sessions were produced by Graham Maby, with me and Jared Nickerson as the rhythm section.  I remember playing drums on Responsible first.  Over a few days I played drums on the other songs.  About a year later came songs like In The New Sunshine and this tune, The Lucky One.  These last sessions were produced by Knut Bohn, with me and bassist Graham Maby as the rhythm section.  For this tune, Knut asked me to play straight through with no fills.  We went back to overdub cymbal crashes which he then ran through some effects.   

This is still my favorite Freedy album.  It was an exciting time to be playing music in Hoboken, NJ.  These sessions were some of the last to be recorded at the old Water Music studio when it was a dump that smelled like diesel fumes.  No wonder I sometimes have trouble with my memory.

I’m working on a detailed, comprehensive account about the Can You Fly sessions which I’ll post here soon.   

RCA era Silos.  This was the tour to promote the record.  By this time, Graham Maby was our 3rd bass player in a year.  JD Foster played bass on the record but wasn’t available for our tour.  This song showcases Bob’s writing and his vocal style.  He was a commanding presence.  Please read my previous blog posted January 5th, “The Silos/Part 1″ for more info.

The Silos: Brian Doherty, Walter Salas-Humara and Bob Rupe in CA. (Richard Ford not pictured).

In my opinion The Silos of the late 80’s/early 90’s were a one  of a kind, real rock ‘n roll band. The band’s music lay somewhere between The Stones, The Outlaws and Gram Parsons.  I always felt that The Silos had unlimited potential and could have set the tone for a generation of guitar driven rock bands.  Those of us involved with the band knew it outright.  Although our RCA record got great reviews, (see link below) the way the Gainesville/RCA sessions unfolded was a complete disappointment.  The record was a dud.  (The best recording of the band to this day is a series of live recordings, captured on tour by our soundman Joe Chinnici.  They’re not commercially released, but if you ever get your hands on them, you’ll hear for yourself.)  This particular line up of The Silos remained intact until 1992 and was a powerhouse on tour.  I stayed on a little longer (something I’m unfortunately prone to do) than did JD Foster and Bob Rupe, recording more tracks which ended up on subsequent Silos records.  My last tour with the band was a grueling six week van tour of Germany, Austria, Spain and Switzerland.  The following is my story as the band’s drummer during this period, and of our only major label recording.

Richard Ford

In 1987, bass player Richard Ford had just finished working with Joe Jackson and was settling into the freelance music scene in New York. Richard had also played with Bill Nelson of Bee Bop Deluxe as well as many others.  Originally from England, Richard came to the US and lived near my home town of Randolph, NJ before settling in Hoboken. He recommended me for work regularly, for which I’ll be forever grateful.  He is a true musician and would be sorely missed by The Silos at the time of his departure from the band.

The Silos had just been voted Best Band in America by a Rolling Stone Magazine Critics Poll and were looking for a new rhythm section to carry them to major status, getting them signed to a major label record company.  Richard was asked to play bass and he recommended me for the drum chair.  The line up of The Silos was Bob Rupe and Walter Salas-Humara on guitars/vocals.  Me and Richard Ford on drums and bass.

Getting Signed

Mark Zoltak sight seeing on The Silos tour

In addition to a new rhythm section, the band also had a new business manager; Hoboken realtor Mark Zoltak. Mark was a former NYC DJ and was the motivational muscle behind the band. He had great ideas and knew the songs better than those of us in the band.  He regularly spoke his mind and had strong opinions about music.  To Mark, music was either great or it sucked.  There was no in-between.  Mark truly understood the essence of The Silos.  He got it.  He devised a business plan to unleash the improved band and get it signed to a major label.  The band quickly became an unparalleled live act and played dozens of industry showcases in Los Angeles and in the Northeast.  The plan worked.  In March of 1989 the band was signed to RCA Records by the label’s president Bob Buziak.  The trick now would be to capture the true essence of the band at a studio recording.

A One Man Band

I was not involved in the daily business of the band, so I can’t explain the rationale behind most of the business decisions. As the September recording date approached it was obvious that there was a power struggle within the band.  Specifically, Walter was making it known to us that the band was his brain child.  (Subtext: “The record deal is all mine!!”)  Although Walter was indeed a strong songwriter, he was not even an adequate singer or guitar player.  It was Bob Rupe’s Otis Redding voice and Neil Young guitar style that fleshed out Walter’s contributions.  It was the way the ensemble executed the songs and the way we played together that made us a great band.  It was my hope that Bob would hold fast to his co-leader status, checking Walter’s power grab.  To my dismay however, Bob assumed the role of second-in-command.

To make things even worse, Walter then began hinting about playing the drums on the upcoming record. Yikes! Just what I needed, right?  One month before our scheduled sessions, he invited me over to his apartment for dinner.  After eating in awkward silence, he turned on the stereo and played tracks of great drummers like Al Jackson and Levon Helm.  Next he played some of our demos, the ones I drummed on.  Out of nowhere he then delivered this mandate: “Start playing like one of these drummers or I’ll find someone else to play drums in the band.” I thought, “What a douche bag!” Granted, those are two great drummers, but not really suitable for the guitar rock of The Silos.  Also, not the drummer he sought out and hired for greater success-ME!  Please don’t get me wrong.  Most of my job as a drummer has been to listen to others and execute their music as they hear it.  It’s also been my experience that when someone pulls shit like this there’s usually an ulterior motive.  This was his first of many moves to play drums on our recordings.  It was this need for control that would trump everything else.  Even if it meant he’d sabotage the band’s record deal and chances of success.

There was great irony in the fact that the guy who was the worst singer, guitarist, bassist, drummer and producer; in fact the worst musician in the band was the one who wanted to play every instrument and do everything himself. Walter had no interest in being a member of band, unless perhaps it was a one-man band.  His desire to play drums would weigh heavily on our upcoming Gainesville recording sessions and would eventually crush my desire to work with him altogether.  In the meantime, while on a coffee break from one of our many Hoboken demo sessions, Richard revealed to me that he’d be quitting and would not be joining us in Florida for the recording of the record.  For me, that was the beginning of the end.

Producer Peter J. Moore lets me know what he thinks of my ideas

JD Foster cuts a bass track

We plowed ahead.  Austin-based JD Foster would replace Richard on bass. Cowboy Junkies producer Peter J. Moore was brought in from Toronto.  Ed Bair would run house/stage sound, and Peter Yianolis would be the recording engineer and operator of the mobile truck.  On September 25, 1989, the band and crew settled into rented apartments in the town of Gainesville, Florida ready to record.

Why Gainesville?

 During this period of The Silos, my real home was on Bergen Avenue in Jersey City. Richard, Walter and manager Mark Zoltak all lived in nearby Hoboken.  Bob lived on the lower east side of Manhattan.  We were all within a few miles of each other and within an easy commute to mid-town Manhattan, home to dozens of the world’s top recording studios.  In spite of this, Walter somehow convinced RCA executives that recording our record in NYC would be too distracting (from what?).  That instead, we’d need to record in Gainesville, Florida.  The fact that there were no suitable recording studios in Gainesville led us to an abandoned theater.  We used its stage and hallways for live sounds.  A mobile recording truck parked next to the building and was where the producer and engineer spent most of their time.  Admittedly, this made for an interesting story and good press.  For us however, that’s all we got out of it.  As we were rehearsing in the theater, we got word that RCA president and #1 Silos fan, Bob Buziak had been fired.

In the next Blog: The Sessions, Grasshopper and the Master, The Silos “School’s Out Tour”, Who’s on Bass? Good Press=Bad Sales, What New Songs?,  Bob’s Departure, Dumped by RCA, and Saved by “Can You Fly?”

A pensive Walter Salas-Humara barely holds a guitar

Here’s one of the “great” reviews of The Silos record:

http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/album/137649/review/5943972/thesilos

The Jon Stewart Show–back in the day. This was on the John Henry tour. We were in Europe for many weeks before doing this show. I remember feeling relieved, being back home in New York. This song was a Linnell composition and there was a lot of hope in the Giants’ camp that it would match the success of Birdhouse In Your Soul. I always felt it was an interesting tune but that it lacked something (like a bridge?). Far be it from me to critique a Linnell song, the guy is pure genius. Watching this really makes me miss this drum kit. I foolishly sold it to a recording studio when I became a GMS endorser–big mistake. These Yamaha toms were unbelievable! Watching this also makes me miss working with Tony Maimone. He’s a great guy and always a ton of fun.

Good Morning America ‘94. At the time of this appearance, I did not own a television, so I had no idea what Good Morning America was all about. I was also used to waking up in the morning whenever I felt like it. What I really remember the most about this show, was that I had to get up obscenely early. These days I’m a school teacher, so early morning hours fit nicely into my routine. About the song, Dirt Bike; I was never really crazy about playing this tune. I always felt it was a too short and incomplete. Flansburgh insisted I play this groove in a mechanical manner and it was always a challenge to make it sound musical at the same time.

Rock ‘n Roll busses can be travelling frat hous­es. There’s little privacy, and they often smell like a combination of urine and diesel fumes. Remember that they stop almost exclusively at truck stops and not travelers rest areas (that gets old fast). The essential thing about bus touring is that it’s really your home away from home. Here’s how it works: the bus driver gets quality sleep in his hotel room while you’re hard at work sound checking, appearing at the local radio station, or actually playing the show. As the band blasts into the final chord of the gig, Mr. Bus Driver resurfaces from slumber land and heads for the bus where he waits for you and the rest of the band. You get on and wait for the crew to pack up everything — gear, lights, P. A., and monitors.

A couple of hours later, when this is finished and everyone has boarded the bus, it drives overnight to the city of the next engagement. It’s during this drive that you’re supposed to sleep. (I don’t know about you, but it’s hard for me to sleep well on a bus. I keep dreaming I’ll wake up to find the bus driver asleep in a bunk and no one at the wheel!).

Brian Doherty, Mark Oakley, Tyler Gibbons, Stuart Mathis, backstage at Red Rocks. Last show of our tour .

When we reach the next city, the bus parks near the venue. Makes sense right? But here’s the juicy part: Let’s say that the bus arrives at that city, after dri­ving 350 miles, around 6AM. What do I do? Most of the time, I’ll continue sleep­ing for a couple of hours. If I wake up at 10am — now what? Breakfast? Shower? Phone calls? Visit rel­atives? Maybe. If the bus isn’t parked in the thriving center of town, none of this might be possible. It’s been my experience, in fact, that theaters and clubs are often on the outskirts of town and are sometimes in their most down­right funky neighborhoods.

I can shower in the club, provided they have one that I’d be comfortable using. I can dine at the McDonalds down the road a mile or so, provided I’m up for a brisk walk through heavy traffic. As a rule, the bus always stays at the gig. Phone calls can be made and my distant cousin is a mere $20 cab ride away.

Okay, let’s say that I’ve successfully negotiated my morning routine. It’s only noon, and sound check doesn’t begin until 5pm. Now what? As much as I try to be productive, this aspect of bus touring can be really limiting and cramp my style. The best solution is to have a hotel booked. This brings us to our next surprise.

NO TELL HOTEL…

Surprise #2 — Accommodations. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT assume that you’ll be in a hotel every night. In fact, most bus tours only provide hotels on days off. Management reasons that if we’ll be getting to the club’s parking lot at 6am, it’ll just be easier for us to stay there, at the venue. ALL DAY.

Management will also reason that check-in time at the hotel isn’t until 1pm, and that we’d have to check out at 4pm to make 5pm sound check anyway, so why bother? If right now you’re asking why we have to check out of the hotel, just remember the overnight bus ride. In my experience, the band either checks out before sound check, or on the way out of town.

Management loves this because they save large sums of money (courtesy of your discomfort) on hotels during the duration of the tour. Please let me clarify one thing here: If you are on tour with a band in which you’re a full member, by all means, save money any way you can. I’m assuming here instead that you’re a hired sideman.

So, at this time, I might remind our friendly tour man­ager that many hotels offer an early check-in. And here’s where I see his shoulders hunch up, as he pre­tends like he’s learning about early check-in for the very first time! I watch him squirm. As long as it’s set up as such in advance, there should be a hotel room ready upon arrival.

The Perfect Bus Day

My friends, here’s how it should really work: The bus pulls up at the gig. The crew continues sleeping on in a drunken stupor, until their 10am equipment load-in. My band mates and I step off of the bus and into a cab that the tour manager has called. The cab takes us to a nearby hotel, where I check into my room.

I now have the day to rest, write postcards, make phone calls, practice and whatever else I may want. There is one hitch, however. Don’t assume you’ll get your own room. Many tours encourage doubling-up on rooms, obviously to save even more money. But why anyone would want to share a room with someone they’re already spending 18 hours a day with is beyond me.

You may be wondering why man­agement is so concerned with saving money. After all, this is Rock ‘n Roll, ain’t it? Well, to their credit, manage­ment has to run a tour like they would any other business. They have to look at the numbers to make sure that the tour is bringing in more than it’s shelling out. After all, my salary is being paid out of the mon­ey that the tour is generating. Man­agement’s job is to run the tour effi­ciently, and cut excess spending every­where they can.

All of that’s okay, but here’s where I get fired up… Sometimes, the tour goes extremely well, like an oiled machine. It’s also generating large sums of money. Wouldn’t you think that as prof­its go up, accommodations would get better, and everyone would get more pay, too?

Unfortunately, this doesn’t happen all of the time. Often, when a tour begins to pull in a lot of dough, the artist and management may want even more corners cut. To avoid what I term “diminishing returns” as one helps the artist to make an even greater profit while perhaps accepting something less than spectacular for yourself, think about negotiating for what will become a bet­ter deal down the road, when and if rev­enues permit. Otherwise, relatively speaking, a salary can become less than what it was when one started.

Marit Larsen of M2M walks to our tour bus on our very last tour

The years of practice and hard work have paid off, and you get a call to go on the road with a well known band. You readily accept the tour; now its dates beam out from your desk calendar. It is great to tell your network the good news about your upcoming gigs.

After all these years, I still love touring. I’ve heard lots of road stories and told my own share as well. I’ve had some great experiences but others still haunt me. Touring has been a character builder and my free ticket to world-wide travel. I’ve never met a musician who didn’t romanticize the road and all its bumpy glories. However, there is a lot about touring that I wish someone had told me about before I signed up. Chances are, these issues will not disappear, and we may as well protect ourselves as professional musicians.

SURPRISE, SURPRISE!

The calendar shows that you are in the middle of your tour. It’s going well, except for the many surprises. Surprise #1 – TRAVEL. This is a good one. There are only two methods of tour travel-ground or air. Air travel is really only necessary in situa­tions where it’s too far to drive by bus. Seems obvious, right? Brace yourself. Many tours will make you take the bus for great distances anyway, if there’s enough time before the next gig. For instance, if the tour is slated to begin in Idaho on Friday, manage­ment may try to get the band to leave on Monday, from New York, ON THE BUS. This can become frus­trating when you find out that the star artist isn’t on the bus, because he’s flying straight to the gig. When you can say, “No way!” and fly instead.

MEN WITH A VAN

I used think that travelling on a tour bus was living large. That was until my first tour on one. Later, I’ll tell you what I don’t like about bus travel. But first, let me tell you what I do like about touring in a van. Actually, I love touring in a van. No, I’m not talking about a tour where the band, crew, gear, and a dog are packed into something like a “Cheech and Chong” vehicle. I prefer the adult approach. And here’s why: the van gives everyone in the band mobility. A van means that just a few people (usually only the band, and let’s hope that it’s a five piece band), can fit into it. The tour man­ager and crew ride separately on a bus. The gear, the P.A., and the merchandise are in separate trucks. As a matter of fact, the crew actually needs to be on a bus because load-in at most venues is early in the morn­ing. They can’t possibly sleep after the previous night’s show, wake up, and drive 300 miles, all by 10am the next morning. The band, on the other hand, doesn’t have to get to the next city until 5 o’clock for sound check.

One van to another. I'm in Jim Johnson's van while on The Silos tour in California

So, here’s a perfect van-tour day on the road: this day, in fact, really begins the night before, when I look in my room and find the “daily info sheet” that the tour manager has left for me. Every evening, one of these is put under each band member’s door. It contains everything we will need to know for the next day; destination, direc­tions, important phone numbers, hotel specifics, etc. It also tells us what time we should meet in the hotel lobby for departure.

On this perfect day, I wake up early around 8 am. Am I nuts? After a show that didn’t finish until 1 am? No. I’ll have plenty of time to sleep during today’s six-hour drive to the next town. This way, I have a couple of free hours before we leave, and I can exercise by jogging or going to a gym.

After breakfast, I check out of my room, and meet the band in the lobby. We pile into the van and are on our way. A fifteen-passenger van has three bench seats and two club chairs up front. If there’s only five guys, that means one to a bench and one to a club chair. This makes for a very comfortable ride and allows everyone to stretch out and relax.

Who’s driving? One of us. To have a professional driver would just take up valuable space. I love it when band members take turns driving (unless we have some scary drivers among us). On the road, we can stop for lunch and maybe a few sights, as long as we’re on time. The guys on the bench seats can lie down and sleep. For me, this is a great way to tour. We do what we want, when we want, and stop as often as we please. Some of my favorite towns and restaurants were discovered like this.

If we get to the next town early, we can check into our rooms and relax. If the hotel is close enough to the gig, we are also able to go back for a nap before the show. Want to see a movie on your day off? You can borrow the van. With this set up, the band is really independent from the rest of the tour crew. Many times, I’ll only see them at the gig. Unfortunately, this is not the way a bus tour operates. More on bus tours coming up.

Conan ‘94. John Henry tour. The Giants put a lot into this tour, promoting their first “band” record. The record company pulled their support almost as soon as we set out. It was the fans that made this tour a success anyway. By the time we did this show, we had already done 8 weeks in Europe, and were looking at an 11 month tour of US and Canada. I had a nice chat with Max Weinberg after the taping of this show. Good guy and a great drummer.

3-2-1-Contact! In this step you will be casting a very wide net and marketing yourself to numerous artists and bands.  Warning.  Do not proceed with this step if you misrepresent yourself, can’t follow through on a musical promise, or if you believe you will fold in high-pressure situations.  You can always proceed at a later date.

Many music business resources appear in the form of lists.  Like phone books for the music industry. Generally, these publications list the managers and office personnel of bands, producers, and recording engineers.  There are also staff directories for record companies.  These lists bring the music industry within your reach.  For our purposes, the Artist Management roster will be the most useful.  This book is designed for people looking to do business with bands and artists (such as yourself).  It lists the direct contact information for virtually every band in the western world, as well as the names and direct numbers for managerial staff.  With this book in hand, your first goal is to choose the bands with whom you want to play.  Then let them know who you are, and how to reach you.  Great!  Start dialing, right?  Not so fast.

You’re going to look at this list and highlight the names of bands with whom you’d like to work. Differentiate by using colored highlighters.  In the past, I used color codes for my personal A, B and C list artists.  I’d start my solicitations with the C list first, allowing me to fall flat on my face with the low stakes clients first.  Over a period of time, I would systematically work my way up to the A list. There is only one chance to make a first impression, so it’s important to sharpen the saw in this manner.

Your next step is to find out the name of the person who handles your targeted band. Although staff names are listed, it is not always apparent which person at the firm handles the artist in question, especially when a firm handles many bands.  So you need to call the management firm directly and ask for the information.  When you call, identify yourself, and express your interest in becoming known to “Band X.”  Then ask for the name of the person who manages that band.  Having a short, concise, and scripted sentence or two is helpful in these situations.   A successful phone call will yield the name of the manager.   You now have a direct contact.

Start writing. Next, craft a brief introductory letter highlighting your features and benefits.  Reference the artist’s work and explain how your drumming is perfect for the artist’s future endeavors.  Direct the reader to your website, where they can learn more about you and your work.  When you are done with the first draft of your letter, proofread and edit it.  This may require several revisions.  Be patient.  When you are ready to send it, choose a mode that suits you (I prefer fax or email).  After it’s been sent, move on to the next contact.  Continue working through your C, B and A lists.  This phase does not require awkward and annoying follow-up calls and emails.  Don’t do it.  Although you are selling your services, the music business does not buy on impulse and you are not selling insurance policies.  However, in a couple of months, you may want to send a business postcard to the recipient.  At a later date, you can also do a general mailing to all names on the firm’s list to cover all bases.

Be realistic. During and after your campaign, be realistic and do not expect callbacks.  When calls come in, you must decide how to field them and sell yourself.  If they do not come, remember that your goal is to become known to the industry and to create top of mind awareness.  This process could produce tremendous results when combined with effective marketing and networking strategies.