#dudewhatstourlike: A Survival Guide for the Touring Musician

By Brett Wondrak

The life of a touring artist isn't what most people expect, and underground music is increasingly becoming DIY. Because of this, today's touring musicians need to know how touring actually works. Artists must fill the shoes of not only performer, but as tour manager, merch guy, roadie, and much, much more. Learning how to manage so many different positions doesn't come easy, but with time and experience, one can learn to succeed in these roles. #DUDEWHATSTOURLIKE aims to help artists transition to life on the road, and entertain them while they learn.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543938043

Book preview

Glossary

PREFACE

Every touring musician remembers their first time on the road. It’s exciting. The first step in, what you hope will be, a lasting career. The rubber hits the pavement, and you’re living your dream. Although years have passed since my first tour, the memories still feel very alive. It was just my band, a cheap conversion van that we dubbed The Hammer, and the little bit of money that we made playing shows and selling merch.

Like any touring band, we experienced some trying times on our first tour. We barely scraped by financially, got in some fights along the way, and even had to play a couple of shows without a member, who had flown home for a few days for a wedding (more on this later). But the lowest point on our first tour was when we broke down from engine failure at the state line of Wyoming.

This didn’t happen the way that one might expect. There was no smoke. There was no loud bang. We simply stopped at a rest area, and The Hammer never started again.

We should have known what we were in for when our tow truck driver arrived; a man we named Phlegm (because we honestly couldn’t understand him when he introduced himself). Most of what Phlegm said was obscured by the chewing tobacco in his cheek, and he didn’t seem to care until I misunderstood him later when we were lowering The Hammer off the bed of his truck. Phlegm said *garble garble* brake *garble* which I translated to release the emergency brake, which I did, sending The Hammer barreling down the bed of his tow truck, crashing to the ground, and through the fence of the auto shop where he left us. But that’s a different story for a different time…

After a hard day we curled up in our motel in the small town of Pine Bluffs and were left to ponder our fate. I’ve always considered us a resourceful band but this turn of events brought on some pretty crippling challenges. Mostly Where will we go? What will we do?? And how on Earth do you finish a tour without a working vehicle?!

Pine Bluffs isn’t exactly known for its hospitality. In fact, I don’t think they plan on anyone staying there at all. The town is made up of two gas stations, a motel, a Subway, and an A&W. We spent most of our time brainstorming exactly how we could make it out of this mess. We could make a little bit of money by junking The Hammer but that didn’t help us get a new vehicle. Between the lot of us, we were tapped out of resources. This was not a problem we could solve on our own.

When you’re broke on the road and you run out of options, you can always reach out to your fans. We were still a small band then, but we’ve always had a strong core fan base that would give anything to see us succeed. The next day we made our first tour blog explaining our situation to our fans and anyone else who would listen. Our cry for help was set to a soundtrack of the very sad sounding song Angel by Sarah McLachlan. This hilarious, yet honest tour update was uploaded to YouTube and soon people’s support began to pour in.

What was even more surprising was that the band member who had flown out for a wedding, did so right before all this happened and was able to borrow a fifteen passenger van from the groom’s father. How’s that for luck? He drove twenty hours straight, only stopping for gas and because the lack of sleep started to cause him to hallucinate.

When he finally arrived, we all rejoiced. We had only missed two shows and the tour hadn’t gone on too far without us. Despite all odds, (and thanks to the help of some friends) we finished the tour and made it home. We did a complete circuit of the country, played in dozens of new markets, and had tons of new experiences from it. This is, no doubt, partially attributed to our stubborn nature as a band.

Even early in our career, we were compared to a runaway train because of our (almost) illogical drive (i.e. driving through a hurricane to get to a show). Stopping or slowing down was never an option. Get on, or get out of the way.

That first tour was a lengthy lesson, and an adventure. We learned how to adjust from city to city, from stage to stage. Some nights, we played for a good crowd. Most nights, we played for close to no one. It didn’t matter though. It felt like a privilege just to be there. A month later, I returned home several pounds lighter, completely broke, and with pneumonia.

Through all the adversity we faced, it was difficult not to get discouraged at times, but in retrospect, I’m thankful for both the good times and troubles we’ve had. You might think a tour as tough as my first is enough to make anyone second guess their decision to become a touring musician. When my band and I shared our experience with our friends in more practiced touring bands, they responded by saying, Sounds like a normal first tour!

This is why I felt it was so important that I write this book. With a new band’s inexperience comes poor preparation, miscalculations, and mistakes. Most bands, like my own, hit the road in a shoddy van with little or no funds to shows that could very well be canceled once they arrive. You begin to realize that guarantees aren’t exactly guaranteed. With road blocks like van problems, fluctuating gas prices, dwindling show attendance, and tow truck drivers named Phlegm it’s easy to get discouraged.

These things, paired with lack of experience and resources, can mean the death of the tour and, at times, even the band. It’s these things that I wish to address in this book. I hope you can laugh at my mistakes and share in my experiences, but mostly I hope this book teaches you some of the tricks of the trade and makes your first time out easier and more fun. For those about to rock…

ROADWORTHY

A band’s first tour is usually the hardest. It’s when everything seems to go wrong; almost like some kind of cosmic hazing the music gods have bestowed upon us. On my first tour, we barely earned enough money to make it from show to show, and our van broke down in the middle of nowhere, leaving us stranded. We weren’t even signed yet, so tour support was out of the question. Looking back, I’m surprised we survived the tour, let alone finished it.

Some of the blame for this might rest on our rotten luck, but I’d say the true culprit here was actually lack of experience, limited resources, and poor preparation. Without experience, band members seldom know exactly how to handle issues that arise on tour. I’ve toured with plenty of bands that couldn’t finish their first tour because of financial difficulties, van problems, or other random issues that arise. It seems pretty clear to me that most bands, including my own, aren’t prepared for their first tour and, frankly, have no idea how to prepare for it.

With the right tools, you can avoid unnecessary challenges and better handle the unavoidable obstacles ahead, and your experience will be richer for it. I want to start this book by helping you prepare. These are lessons I’ve learned over the span of several tours, from my personal experiences, and from watching other bands. They will help you travel light, cheaply, and hopefully improve your quality of life. I’m passing this knowledge on to you in the hope that it will help you when you’re down on your luck or stuck on the side of the road. Are you roadworthy? By the end of this chapter, you should be able to say yes.

NECESSITIES

When I’m out on tour, I get asked a lot of questions about touring. What do you bring? What do you eat? How do you survive on an artist’s wage? These are great questions. Let’s start by talking about the things that everyone needs (and the rookie mistakes made by new touring artists). Some of these may seem like common sense, but having a set checklist is really useful. You’d be surprised just how often the common sense things will escape you. Especially amidst the excitement of preparing for your first tour.

This is my personal list of what I bring to prepare for a tour. I’ve trimmed it down over time as I’ve realized how much or how little I need certain things. Everyone is different and has different needs, so you don’t have to follow my list like instructions. Instead, it can act as a guideline when you’re deciding what you need, and help keep you from forgetting something obvious.

THE LIST

CLOTHES - New touring artists will usually bring way too many clothes. Oftentimes, you can tell when it’s a band’s first tour because they will have huge luggage bags cluttering up their trailer. You aren’t going to change every day, or every other day, usually not even every three. I have found myself wearing the same pair of pants for a week straight (or more) and never really giving it any thought.

You will, however, change your shirt every couple days, and even less frequently if you designate a stage shirt.  This is a good idea if you don’t want pit stains on your newer and nicer clothes.  A good system is to keep your stage shirt with your equipment so you can change before you play. Once you finish playing, wipe yourself down with some baby wipes, hang your stage shirt up backstage, and change back into your clean(er) clothes. What’s convenient about this system is that you can save space in your duffel bag for what’s truly important: socks and underwear. Two things that you will always wish you had more of…

SHOES - As a rule, it’s a good idea to have two pairs of shoes. For starters, you have to consider that accidents happen on tour,