Things change, and many venues that once called us for a full sound system have now installed their own racks and stacks. Quite often, these same venues also provide their own microphones and floor monitors, and when we do get the call, it is mainly to supplement their existing wireless microphones and in-ear monitors. Other times, a band might request consoles that the house cannot provide, and we end up getting the call. These venues are not necessarily providing a friendly service. They’ve realized that every production needs a P.A. and have installed racks and stacks for the band or production company to use. Rather than having production pay an outside audio company to provide audio, the venue includes the in-house P.A. as part of the room rental, thereby making extra money for the house and also possibly saving the production on time and labor. If a band decides they need to use their own audio for their show, the venue still makes money by charging for removing the racks and stacks and reinstalling them after the show.
The Change Thing
I get it; change is inevitable, competition is strong, and money talks. Unfortunately, this leaves regional sound companies with one less source of revenue. The upside to this is that I work in a major market. The company I work for has slipped into an event niche where we provide audio for touring acts in venues where they don’t belong. It is definitely not standard fare, but the act of bringing sound where it doesn’t belong certainly makes things interesting. The chain of events usually goes like this: someone with a big bag of money decides that they want to celebrate a milestone birthday, anniversary or something like it by having their favorite band(s) play for 150 of their closest friends, so the first thing they do is hire an event company to coordinate all the various pieces to the puzzle.
The event company, being cutting edge, decides on a venue based on scenery, social status or some other “hip” factor that will impress the client. They coordinate everything but the music because they cannot imagine that a touring band might have different needs and requirements than the wedding bands that usually perform at these events. When they see the band’s rider, they can easily relate to the band’s hotel and hospitality requests but, as far as they’re concerned, the equipment, stage plot and input list reads like hieroglyphics on the wall of a newly discovered Egyptian tomb. So, they call me.
Now be aware that the agents for the band(s) have already accepted a large advance on a ridiculous sum of money, and as the agent’s job is to keep the band working, their work is done. Production for the show is the promoter’s responsibility, and the only duty left for the agent is to collect the rest of the cash. As the promoter in this case cannot imagine what it takes to produce a musical event like this, they wait until a week before the show and call me, for which, as they cannot imagine, I am forever grateful.
As frustrating as it might be, I find that designing these events is the easy part. The challenge is negotiating with an event planner who just cannot imagine what I am describing and suggesting. Of course, they have already drawn up their room plans and run of show based upon exactly what they cannot imagine. The bands’ riders are touring riders and, by default, it becomes my job to explain to them what their agent failed to do in regard to the scenario surrounding the size and capability of the space. While they may not be happy with the situation, they are aware of their compensation for the event. Keeping that in mind, they try to work with me, but, in the end, even after much compromise, they still need what they need to make their show work. Knowing the importance of the band, the event planner has agreed to all band demands, because they just can’t imagine to what they are agreeing.
Never Say No…
When I explain how it all has to work, it’s the venue that pushes back. For example: they never open at 6 a.m. for load-in, the service elevator doesn’t open until 9 a.m., there’s no place to store cases, we can’t tie into power, volume in the room can’t be more then 95 dB, there is no place to put our racks, we can’t extend the stage, we can’t move banquet tables to accommodate an SD10 and an S6L console, and the list goes on. So I tell the planner that I won’t be able to do the show, and she tells me that nobody ever says no to her, they just make it happen. “I am the client,” she tells me, and because of that special relationship, it’s my responsibility to live by her credo “There are no problems, only solutions.”
In an idealized world of events, that may be true, but as far as I see it, she just can’t imagine what I am even describing to her in regard to the setup and run of show.
I explain that with three days to go before the event, I still haven’t taken a dime from her, thus making her merely a prospective client rather than a full-fledged customer, and that I would be perfectly happy to walk away from the event because, like the bands, I need what I need if they insist on what they need. Dig?
Of course, she could not imagine me walking away at that time. Her superiors have assigned her to make this very expensive event a great success and, as it has been determined, “No problems, only solutions.” So, to avoid a problem at this late date, the solution is that I stay and the venue and event company do the unimaginable by making concessions to the audio company to ensure that their famous talent, with their own unimaginable demands, is happy and can do their show.
On the day of the event, the anxiety must have been at an all-time high and the event planner didn’t show up until sound check when everything was in place. When she walked into the room, she exclaimed that she could not even imagine what was required for the show, even though I had explained what I was going to do before I did it. She then asks me if I could take payment for the balance due in cash. Be aware that she was trying to hand me thousands of dollars in neatly wrapped hundred-dollar bills. I had to refuse because even though my new slogan is now “doing the unimaginable,” I could not imagine walking through the East Village (as gentrified as it is) with a big bag of money.
