My mom made a huge mistake recently when she asked over breakfast if everything was ready for my latest tour. I knoww she was just trying to be nice, but considering I was supposed to be leaving for the tour that same evening, I could only scowl and reply with sarcasm.
In September, one of my songwriter friends invited me to play in Massachusetts, and I didn't want to make the trip until I had a CD to sell. As I haven't played up North in years, I knew I couldn't count on bringing out a big audience. The only chance I'd have at making money (and recovering transportation costs) would be through merchandise sales.
Around the same time, one of my friends, Jeff, a local musician, asked if I would like to do a spring tour with him. He has some contacts to the south and west of the city from his time in Baltimore. I have friends and family living from Baltimore to Portland, ME. Between the two of us, we could probably cover a large chunk of the East Coast. It sounded like a good idea.
I knew I couldn't book a tour's worth of shows without a professional recording of some sort, especially in areas I've never played before. After two years of performing locally, I wanted to spread my wings. I wanted to work on developing a regional fan base. Aside from that, why wouldn't I want to live out of my car traveling from city to city playing music?
So I made what seemed to be a reasonable goal. I would record over the winter and book an east coast tour for early summer. My schedule was going to be based on where my friends and family were. First, I'd head down to Baltimore, then I would head north traveling all the way to Portland, Maine and back down.
I started strong in January with my recording session. In February, I learned that Jeff and his wife were expecting their second child. As exciting as babies are, I knew the implications. I would be touring alone. The process of artwork design, mastering, and manufacturing had carried me through March.
At that point, I should have taken a step back and realized that September or October would be an awesome time to tour. The weather is great. It wouldn't be too hot. It would still be before the snowy season hit New England. I could watch the foliage change. But I was determined. I sent an email to my friend in Massachusetts to see if we could get something together for the first week in June.
After that, I started sending my booking requests to venues in Baltimore and Delaware. But I was noticing a trend. Either the venues were already booked, or they stated outright that they would not book any performer they had never seen live. On the plus side, I came out with a handful of local shows for the month of June.
So the week of my tour came and went. I showed up to work just like any other day. And I was miserable about the whole thing. I did not want to hear anything about my friends booking shows in awesome cities. I didn't want to see Boy Wonder's Facebook updates about his tour which happened to be the same week as my non-tour. I really just wanted to shut everything off and never talk about this touring nonsense again.
It seems pretty obvious that I fell short on planning. I know that many venues book shows six months in advance. I also know that the odds of getting a show in other cities are far better if you can team up with a local musician.
In the world of music, there seems to be an understanding that if you aren't slumming it on the road, you aren't a real musician. You aren't a pro. You just have a hobby. It would be easy for me to get down on myself and start all the "I must not be good enough" mental games that artists like to play with themselves. But my tour was doomed from the start and I was too stubborn to change course when things weren't working out. Maybe I will take that fall tour after all.
