SOLICITING GIGS...

There is a by-now-well publicized Craigslist ad from a restaurant soliciting free live music on a “Hey, you can promote your stuff” basis. It prompted an equally well-publicized response from a musician inviting the restauranteur to come to his house and cook dinner for free for himself and his friends, on a “Hey, you can promote your stuff” basis. On the one hand, I agree. On the other, as one 19th-century humorist said, not so fast.

I figure about half the places I perform I’m going to be playing for free. I subscribe wholeheartedly to the Biblical mantra, “The laborer is worth his hire”; a lot of time and effort got put into this “product” I’m going to display on your stage (and I hope it shows), and I do intend for there to be a payoff. On the other hand, were I the venue owner, I’d be telling me, “Look, you’re an unknown quantity, and I didn’t get this far in business by taking stupid risks. Prove you’re good for my business.” So I’ll play almost anyplace for free—the first time. If you want me back because I’m good for business, we should be discussing how much I’m getting paid.

I have run into a couple of “scam” venues, a restaurant/bar in Portland and a coffeehouse in Hillsboro, that were using the “we’re auditioning for paying gigs” trick to get themselves a constant supply of free live music; to my knowledge, neither of them ever hired any of the performers who ever played there. (The Portland outfit had the nerve to ask me to audition again, saying they had a new manager. My answer was still no.)

But it’s hard to answer the “Is this kid good for business?” question without just breaking down and playing there. Yes, I’ll promote the event as much as I can (though I have a “following” that doesn’t follow me around very well), and I’ll push CDs and the “joelist” when I’m there—and I’ll expect the venue to do its part, too, to encourage customers to come in because I’m performing. (I can help, of course. I know venues don’t have the expertise in promotion, and I do. I can provide posters, for instance. Just don’t hide them and not put them up like that place in Hillsboro did.)

One Bag-of-Tricks item that might make the “hire Joe” process a little easier is the DVD. There are now a couple of films in the Arts Center’s archives of Joe playing solo before a live (and generally appreciative) audience, and I can generate more—there’ll be another Open Mike at the Arts Center the first Saturday in February, and I’ll either play or host and play. I’ve got some duet footage with Darrin Wayne from our PBS TV appearance two years ago (I wish I had some of me and Jane), and I’ve got a couple of whole-song clips of Deathgrass from our Wheeler Summerfest performance last June. A “this is what you can get if you hire Joe” DVD is definitely doable—and I have a computer now that can copy DVDs.

So I’ll make some and try it out. One outfit I definitely want to hit up is the Willamette Writers Group; I played for free for one of their fund-raisers last summer, hoping (as noted above) that it might turn into a paying gig this year—but I bet their memories could use a little jogging. Ditto for the Neskowin Harvest Festival, the big annual fund-raiser for that little private school in South County; I’ve played there before but the people who used to hire me are gone now. And there are a bunch of small clubs up north that seem to book live music on a regular basis; I know a number of the musicians they book, but I myself don’t have a reputation like they do. Maybe the DVD will help.

An entire press kit, including a couple of promotional posters, a professional-looking publicity photo, and that “Joe Is Great!” brochure I’ve talked about before, that I could leave with venues wouldn’t be a bad idea. That’s another of Wrabek’s Rules: If you act like you know what you’re doing, people will assume you do. Not in the rulebook—but it should be—is: Follow your own advice.

Joe