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Feeling your pain here. That feeling of knowing deep down, you're more than good enough but...well the gate keepers not in agreement. I've been trying to get a slot at place near me. I gave two different mixes. Both of them good enough. I know because I've listened to some of the people they've had on there. On several occasions I've spoken with the guy and we've clearly been into the same producers/sounds etc but ultimately: Nada.
A lot of it comes down to selling yourself (which I hate doing and am not great at); are you bringing a fuktonne of people down? It is a popularity contest. One of the guys I heard playing was so bad I was 2 seconds from telling him to pack it in! [not to stop playing but to stop the self indulgent fucking around, when he clearly didn't have the skill set to do it properly or he was off his head.]
Venues prefer that you're bringing people in, so they don't have to. But I think to myself: I'm not a promoter. (I'm at that age where my peers are Moms and pops.) Also you don't pay promoter wages on top of DJ money.
I think it's the people that get gigs that I know are not all that, that really cuts. They're either not technically all there, or you can tell from what is being played their music collection is somewhat limited, or they don't have the chops to change it up and manoeuvre elsewhere if needed. Yeah we've all got to start somewhere but it seems some get fast tracked waaaaaaay quicker than they should- certainly way earlier than I got any breaks.
I knew 15 yrs back that making stuff would be the only way. I've started to do so now but I'm also back in university now, so even typing this prelude to my crywank is cutting into time I don't really have. It feels really cunty to moan when I look at the fact I'm healthy and in the top 5% on this planet by way of luck/geopgraphy but sometimes that shit really chaffes ones nipples.
So this happened:
Me:
Folkroom:
Me:
Urgh. I hate begging for scraps and being treated like an also-ran like this. Thing is, I know exactly the kind of “meh” feeling the guy describes when faced with yet another perfectly OK but humdrum folky indie band and their sepia tinted melodrama. I genuinely believe that that when we’re firing on all cylinders we can hold a room in a way that is rare. I'm my own harshest critic most of the time but I honestly think we’re capable of transcending the ordinary and creating something a bit special. Not always. But sometimes. It’s frustrating to find out that this doesn’t come across.
Dunno. Maybe i'm just deluded after all. Time to join the queue at the shitty Sunday night open mic with the tone-deaf and the terminally tedious.