Sometimes you need to stand up for your price, before you get squeezed dry
From time to time we hit on an issue in FOH that’s like a live wire to our readers and our writers — not surprising since they’re all audio professionals. One of those threw some sparks this month for Steve La Cerra. This month Steve amplifies on Larry Hall’s “You Book; You Pay” article from the February 2007 issue of FOH. Don’t worry, next month he’ll be back examining high tech issues for us, but until then: Game on. —ed.]
In the February 2007 issue of FOH, Larry Hall related a story of how Mr. New Client tried to poop on his production company with last minute requests and substandard treatment. Stories like that turn my stomach because I have always maintained that promoters and club owners are barely a step above pond scum. Do I really sound that bitter? You’d better believe it. Larry, I feel your pain. Becoming a tour manager in addition to sound engineer has provided me with the occasional opportunity to do a good turn for a sound company here and there and maybe help avoid some of the problems that Larry encountered recently.
The story goes like this: We were playing two shows in the Midwest for the same promoter, one of which was a theatre gig opening for another (national) act. National Act was bringing in their monitor and FOH consoles. The promoter was hiring a sound company to bring in stacks and racks for National, plus monitor and FOH desks for us. (I guess National Act didn’t want to have any part of letting us use their desks, which I can understand. Maybe). Our contract is very clear that we require a separate desk for our monitors. We simply don’t do monitors from front of house, and I know I’m preaching to the choir.
In This Corner
Promoter and I made first contact about three weeks before the shows. Since I had dealt with Mr. Promoter last year (and the band has dealt with him for probably 20 years) I was reasonably comfortable with his competence. What I did not know is that he is way cheaper than he is competent. I sent him the hospitality rider, backline rental list (these were fly dates), input list, stage plot, etc. and asked Mr. Promoter to get me contact info for the sound and backline companies. One week passed, and I renewed the request for contacts. Two weeks passed, another request. Four or five days before the gig, I heard from the sound company, who gave me a rundown of the gear they were bringing. Strangely enough, there wasn’t a monitor desk on this list. That’s because the promoter was trying to save money. What a surprise. I informed the gentleman who was providing P.A. (and he was a gentleman — I’m not being sarcastic) that this was unacceptable and that I’d take it up with Mr. Promoter.
When I called the band’s manager for a reality check (I always do this before locking horns with a promoter), his reply was something like “he knows better than that.” So a minor argument/discussion ensued, culminating with me saying something like, “You know better than to think we are mixing monitors from front of house” (i.e., me on my best behavior). After the arm-twisting was over, the P.A. company called to inform me that they would bring in a monitor desk for show number one. They also told me they could not bring a monitor desk to show number two because there simply wasn’t any place to put it. Oh yeah? You haven’t seen me pack a road case. Twenty pounds of poop in a ten-pound bag is not a problem. Something was fishy there, and it stank like a promoter with B.O. smoking a really cheap cigar. I got candid with the person at the P.A. company, “Tell me the truth: can we not fit a monitor console, or is our esteemed promoter not willing to pay you enough to drag a monitor desk into this place?”
“Well, he really isn’t paying me enough to…”
Round Two
And the truth shall set you free. As I told the P.A. company, I’m totally OK with that answer. Furthermore, I support and respect that answer because I don’t expect people to work for less than they are worth. Also, I don’t want to get to a show and find that — because a sound company (or light company or backline company) is being paid less than they are really worth — that they have a bad attitude about the gig.
The honest answer of the P.A. company gave me (Mr. Tour Manager) the opportunity to call Mr. Promoter and lay it down: “When I walk into this room, I will find a place to put a monitor desk, so you’d better have one there for me.” Sort of twisting the arm that feeds the sound company, and in fact Mr. Cheap Promoter (who whined constantly about both gigs) anted up for some more pay to the sound company and rented the monitor desk. It’s a good thing because in my world, “no monitor desk” = “I’m going home, and I’m taking my band with me.” Luckily for me the band’s manager supports me — especially when it comes to some fool thinking we’re going to do six or seven monitor mixes from house — and gave me the green light to take that attitude if necessary (it wasn’t).
The bullet points here are:
A) The tour manager of a band can be your friend.
B) Don’t work for less than you think you are worth.
If you do, everyone loses. You have a bad attitude about the gig, which may rear its ugly head to the band, their crew and everyone involved in the gig. That really is a problem because then people don’t want to work with you again in the future. If there’s one thing I don’t want to hear at a gig when I have a problem, it’s “Well, the promoter really isn’t paying us what we’re supposed to get, so I didn’t bring any spare cables.” That doesn’t help anyone on any level. You have to stick to your guns when you’re giving a quote. If you let clients beat you up financially they will, and you’ll beat yourself up mentally — which is really not a good thing.
Steve La Cerra is the Tour Manager and Front of House engineer for Blue Oyster Cult. He can be reached via e-mail at woody@fohonline.com.
