Diary of a Portland Musician

Have life, will travel?

by Mr. Indie

About a month ago I got a call from an old friend. "So, what are you doin' for the next year?"

"Uh, it depends on what you're about to ask me", I replied, cautiously.

"Well, Todd quit Captain Powell so we're putting our feelers out for a new drummer, and of course you were the first to come to mind. We're planning on touring a lot this year."

"Oh jeez, why'd it have to be that?"

Captain Powell is a band from SoCal; I filled in for their drummer, Todd, on a couple tours right before moving to Portland. Their popularity was starting to grow at that time, and they now average $3,000 to $4,000 per show. Accepting this offer which Ronny, their guitarist/singer, had just plopped at my feet, implied many things. On the upside, it would mean finally making some serious money from music, which, if you remember, was my goal when I quit my job a few months back. It would also mean that I'd be doing a whole lot of hanging out with my SoCal friends, followed by some of the cushiest touring I'd ever experienced. We'd get hotels every night, plenty of spending money, dinner from the venues, great turnouts for the shows, and a sound guy/driver. Plus I'd get to hock merch from my own bands at the shows. Good deal, eh? Well, as with all things in this world, there would be a downside as well: I'd be away from Portland for two months. This would mean not being able to work on my other projects, not having the comforts of home, and, worst of all, being away from my girlfriend, Kitty. Kitty and I aren't one of those couples that can't be apart longer than an hour without reaching for the phone, but two months is considerably longer than an hour.

Making up my mind took some heavy deliberation, but after a couple days of weighing the positives against the negatives, I decided that not taking advantage of this opportunity would be a mistake. The decision came down to mainly two things. First, the money: $4,000 (my estimated income for the tour) isn't bad for traveling the country playing music for a month, and I'd be insane to turn that down after quitting my job in hopes of making a living from music just months earlier. Second, the exposure: my involvement with an outfit like Captain Powell would undoubtedly open a few doors for my other projects, if only through the selling of our wares on the Captain Powell merch table (which is perused by more fans during one show than The Plural Males would be able to reach over a whole tour).

So I'd made up my mind to go. Turns out deciding was the easy part. With twenty plus songs to learn after having barely touched a drum set in the past three years, I needed as much playing time as possible before tour. This would mean flying down to SoCal for two weeks of practice, flying back up here to play a couple shows with my new band, Language of Twitch, then flying to SoCal again for two and a half more weeks of practice before starting the tour. Pretty hectic schedule, but I was willing to commit to anything that would lessen my chance of humiliating myself in front of 500 kids at our first show.

As of this writing, I'm in Portland. I just got back from SoCal last night and I have nine days before I go back down. The past eleven days have been mostly enjoyable. It's been great hanging out with my old friends, the practices are going pretty well, and I can actually find good Mexican food down there. Judging from that experience, if I were only going to be gone for a couple weeks it would be no problem. Sure, Kitty and I would miss each other, and I'd be itching to come home by the fourteenth day, but two weeks is certainly bearable. However, when I leave nine days from now, I'll be gone for a full month and a half. This last trip was like a practice run, and it went okay, but the next one will be four times as long. I've been on some sizeable tours, but never one that's taken me away from home for this long (considering all the practice time before the actual tour starts) and never while I've had so much other stuff going on in my life. All I can do is get on the plane and cross my fingers that when I return in seven weeks Kitty won't be dating a guy named Biff, my bands won't have replaced me, and my friends will all still be alive.

I don't want to come off as unappreciative, because if I thought it wasn't worth it, I wouldn't go. It's as perfect an opportunity as I could have realistically hoped for at this point in my life, and I'm fucking excited, but don't think for a minute that people don't make sacrifices for this type of lifestyle (if I can even call it my "lifestyle" yet). While I would obviously rather be doing this than some bland nine to five job, there are certain aspects of being a touring musician that can be a straight up pain in the ass. It's NOT a vacation; anybody who says it is has never been on a real tour. A typical tour day goes something like this: wake up at 9AM after going to bed at 4AM the previous night, get in the van and drive for eight hours while snacking on gas station food, arrive at the venue, unload your gear, sound check for a half-hour, eat, sit around and drink beer for three or four hours, play for an hour and a half, load all your gear, go to sleep. Some of it can be fun, especially the drinking beer and playing music part, but it doesn't leave much room for things like sightseeing. And let's not forget that I'm basically a hired gun. It's great to get paid for touring and all, but it's nowhere near as rewarding as it would be if I was doing this with one of my own bands, making a living off of my own music. It's a job-one that many people would kill for, but a job nonetheless, with drawbacks as well as benefits. For now, I'm hoping the benefits will outweigh the drawbacks, but I guess I'll see if that's true in the coming months; and if it's not, y'all can rest assured I'll be bitching about it in this column.

-Mr Indie

Most names have been altered to protect the privacy of persons/entities involved. Any similarities to actual persons or events are probably pretty accurate, but you can't prove anything.