Dear Audience

I’m a guy in a band. Furthermore, I love the dynamics and relationship between “band-people-on-stage (us)” and “audience-people-near-stage (you)”. Ever want to read about this scene from a band guy’s point of view? No? Me neither, but since PAMusicScene pays me four dollars for every character I type, I need vacation money.

First of all, I can’t even believe you show up to see us band-people-on-stage. We musicians are not worthy to be seen by you. Why do you even care to see us diva stage-people posers? We’re not even sure how we got to this point in our lives to receive your applause. Humbly, speaking on behalf of many band-people-on-stage, our puny qualifications to even BE a “band-person-on-stage” go like this:

1) I somehow learned to play an instrument or two before I was 20.
2) I found other people who did the same.
3) We decided to see if we could all play at the same exact time.
4) We bought way more instrument cable than we needed.
5) We decided to suppress our fright of playing in front of people we don’t know.
6) We decided to hire people (or do it ourselves) to help us with the things outside our control, such as sound, lights, and promotion.
7) We met with people and tried to convince them that we’re worth having around to hear.
8 ) We convinced you that you should throw down a cover charge to hear us play.

Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Nowhere in there did we deserve to gain your attention via winning a Nobel Prize. Now YOUR qualifications as “audience-person-near-stage” go like this:

1) You have an ID stating you’re at least 21 years old.
2) You found a $10 bill somewhere to spend.
3) You don’t mind staying up past your mother’s bedtime to watch us.

I suppose at this point I should introduce myself, the individual writing this who is pretending to speak for over 90% of stage-people everywhere. I am Brian. I have been performing in a band called Toolshed Jack for over a decade. We are a self-run cover band who has played mostly in Schuylkill County for all these years, meeting dozens of crowd members. And for years I have always been fascinated by the sociology of the late-night bar scene.

Yeah, years ago as a former audience-member-near-stage, I went to a few shows in my day. And back then my checklist of why I went to see a band was incredibly strict:

A) They play where I can buy beer.
B) They play music while I drink beer.

When I went to see a band, the band-people-on-stage earned celebrity status just by being up there. Whether in reality they suck or not was irrelevant: The illusion was that they were hired by that fine establishment to carry the mantel of rock and roll with a god-like dignity.

Well trust me, folks: Now that I’m on the other side of the coin, up there in a much brighter location, let me fill you in on some of the things you may not know. Some nights we start out nervous as hell. Actually, you scare band-person-on-stage for the first few moments. Oh, I KNOW you’re out there, and you want me to make eye contact with you, but I hope you can excuse me for about a minute until I get into the flow of this first song. Don’t take that the wrong way: I LOVE that you’re there, otherwise without the audience-people-near-stage my band and I might as well be practicing in my basement, where my amp has too many Lager-bottle-sized sticky-circles that couldn’t even be removed at this point even with turpentine.

It’s GOOD to see you out there, trust me, but there’s a lot on the line up here on stage, namely pride and the responsibility each band holds themselves to for the sake of giving you your hard-earned money’s worth during our performance. Oh, I HOPE you understand out there, because up here we’re NOTHING without you. You might not want to be intimidating, but we don’t want to suck.

Alright, with that being said, allow me to turn that spotlight your way and identify two types of audience-people-near-stage. While standing there staring at us, your thoughts come in either of two forms:

1) Hey, this band is great! Let’s dance and have fun!…

or

2) I sing WAY better than THAT guy up there… I’d rock this place if I had a band. Maybe they’ll invite me up on stage and sing a song for them if I ask. Actually, I’m drunk enough: I’ll just go invite myself…

Audiences make me more nervous than a trailer during a tornado watch. You deserve to be fickle, and my problem is that I give a shit about what you think. I want you to like my act so badly that I actually smile when you spill your drink all over my floor monitor. I politely try to guide you to my other bandmates when you request a song I’ve never heard of. And maybe I SHOULD smile … after all, you paid money to be at this place, and I am GETTING paid money to be at this place. So spill away, please… my floor monitor is right over there.

In summary, crowds are great. I joke because musicians normally feed off of crowds like a parasite, and without you we shrivel up and die. I’ve got plenty more to type about audiences, but my fingers hurt and at four dollars a character I think PAMusicScene owes me enough money now that I can take that vacation twice if I wanted to.

-Brian from Toolshed Jack