Saturday March 28th
A few days ago I wrote optimistically, but I believe perfectly reasonably about the boom that will follow the bust. The hairdressers, decorators, builders, mechanics and countless other trades and professions who have a very bright day to look forward to when the night finally ends. I hope those who are finding things tough at the moment can hold out and reap the benefits of the spike in demand that will surely follow.
We're close to a week in, how's your lockdown so far? Personally I'm practising, reading, writing, listening to a lot of old records and studying music in a way I rarely had the time to until last week. Other than the absence of camaraderie among my fellow players and a drop off in income of about 90 per cent it's actually extremely pleasant.
I haven't gone down the Netflix route so far and it's highly unlikely that I will. Nor do I care much for the fare available on the mainstream television channels. I'm more your BBC4 or Sky Arts type of guy.
Honestly though, as a player or audience member I'd give anything to be able to go to a gig. Wouldn't you?
Nothing lasts forever and I'm already seeing rescheduled dates, both my own and those of my fellow players, coming in for the second part of the year and through 2021. Quite how we will sustain ourselves between now and then is less clear, but looking a little brighter than it was just a few days ago. Two cheers and cautious optimism.
Just as our often alarmist and irresponsible mainstream media fanned the flames of the bog roll bonfire, you can be sure that when the time comes our screens will be alight with tattooed geezers brawling over a place in the barber's queue, together with a national tinfoil shortage and all of the attendant panic buying.
Your local Screwfix and Toolstation will have armed security and strict limits on numbers in stores at any one time.
I dubbed this the Coronabubble the other day. The seeds are sown, it's already on its way and even now it can't be halted.
Of course you know what I'm going to say next.
When all of this is behind us it's our collective responsibility to support local theatres, clubs, arts centres, pub venues and small to medium performance venues of every kind. There is no guarantee of a recovery in the performance sector, and as heartwarming as 8pm Thursday was, there are others who will need our applause in the times ahead.
So keep the binge watching for when you really, really can't do anything else, don't give the racketeers of our industry two hundred quid to sit in row 141 of a sports stadium either. Instead try paying fifteen or twenty quid to sit in row E, indoors, with a pub two minutes walk away in the interval, and transport or car parking every bit as close when the show is over.
Small venues need us at the best of times, and we should prioritise them over totally soulless, acoustically dreadful arenas, and like my friend Lawrence says,
Keep It Live
Visit my website or send me an email
Saturday 28 March 2020
Wednesday 25 March 2020
The Big Comeback aka The Coronabubble
Wednesday, March 25th
It's not all bad. There is still some work in the diary, some of which my still actually go ahead. Positivity is a high priority for me and I have very little patience with doom mongers, conspiracy theorists and the current crop of finger pointers.
However, here's a thought and I think it may be important.
When 'they sound the last all-clear' and 'normal service is resumed' a number of things will happen.
Hairdressers will have a field day. Extended opening hours, full appointment calendars, wholesalers battling to keep up with demand.
Taxi drivers will see an almost instant return to normality, and will be able to not go south of the river as frequently as before.
Non essential plumbing, car maintenance, gardening, eye tests, you name it. Specific trades and service industries are looking at a very bright horizon, if they can just hang in there. Hanging in there which will not happen without proportionate state intervention. Assuming that the powers that be do the right thing a lot of people have a boom time to look forward to the 'Coronabubble' if you will.
Of quite what the music community has to look forward to I am less certain. When venues finally reopen people will want to go out and let their (home cut) hair down. Going out is the opposite of staying in and we need to be ready. It would be nice if the business community, i.e. any potential live performance space from a pub to an arena, in addition to council run venues, put an initiative in place to maximise performing opportunities for artists of every stripe, or to encorage the entrepreneurs among us by massively reducing the cost of venue hire etc. Perhaps some of the insanely rich 'elite' (irony quote marks) of our industry might show a little overdue empathy and leadership by banging the drum (Skype lessons now available) in order to throw a little limelight in the direction of the rest of us, as our taste of the Coronabubble is very much not a sure thing, and anything that can be put in place to help us help ourselves will be welcomed.
So look on the bright side; if we can manage to survive the bust the inevitable boom will follow.
The Coronabubble is on its way. You heard it here first.
Visit my website or contact me via email
It's not all bad. There is still some work in the diary, some of which my still actually go ahead. Positivity is a high priority for me and I have very little patience with doom mongers, conspiracy theorists and the current crop of finger pointers.
However, here's a thought and I think it may be important.
When 'they sound the last all-clear' and 'normal service is resumed' a number of things will happen.
Hairdressers will have a field day. Extended opening hours, full appointment calendars, wholesalers battling to keep up with demand.
Taxi drivers will see an almost instant return to normality, and will be able to not go south of the river as frequently as before.
Non essential plumbing, car maintenance, gardening, eye tests, you name it. Specific trades and service industries are looking at a very bright horizon, if they can just hang in there. Hanging in there which will not happen without proportionate state intervention. Assuming that the powers that be do the right thing a lot of people have a boom time to look forward to the 'Coronabubble' if you will.
Of quite what the music community has to look forward to I am less certain. When venues finally reopen people will want to go out and let their (home cut) hair down. Going out is the opposite of staying in and we need to be ready. It would be nice if the business community, i.e. any potential live performance space from a pub to an arena, in addition to council run venues, put an initiative in place to maximise performing opportunities for artists of every stripe, or to encorage the entrepreneurs among us by massively reducing the cost of venue hire etc. Perhaps some of the insanely rich 'elite' (irony quote marks) of our industry might show a little overdue empathy and leadership by banging the drum (Skype lessons now available) in order to throw a little limelight in the direction of the rest of us, as our taste of the Coronabubble is very much not a sure thing, and anything that can be put in place to help us help ourselves will be welcomed.
So look on the bright side; if we can manage to survive the bust the inevitable boom will follow.
The Coronabubble is on its way. You heard it here first.
Visit my website or contact me via email
Monday 23 March 2020
No Sign Of The Usual Suspects
Monday March 23rd
I'll keep this short.
Understandably there has been much discussion in recent days on the topic of leadership. Everything from, thoughtful, analytical, constructive debate to disobliging sniping by the disgruntled.
At times like these no good deed goes unpunished. With unprecedented circumstances unfolding from day to day there is doubtless no less enviable job than first Lord of the treasury at this time.
So whether you like our leaders or not, they are there. Imagine for a moment if we had no leadership.
Frightening isn't it?
No voice, no help, no sense of purpose nor unified direction.
In other words, a bit like being a self employed musician right now.
Obviously millions of self employed people work in other sectors apart from music and much of their current experience will be entirely similar to ours.
The difference is the capacity for leadership. I'm sure there is still the odd celebrity plumber or gardner out there, but with nothing like the potential to make headlines and set an agenda that can cause seismic shifts in public opinion.
You only have to look how influential certain music industry types were on matters such as the EU referendum and the December election. So now that the very industry from which you have so enriched yourselves is crippled, possibly never completely to recover, where do I read your words? How do I witness your deeds?
Stormzy, Bono, Sir Bob, Lily, and all the rest of the usual suspects.
Where are you?
I'll keep this short.
Understandably there has been much discussion in recent days on the topic of leadership. Everything from, thoughtful, analytical, constructive debate to disobliging sniping by the disgruntled.
At times like these no good deed goes unpunished. With unprecedented circumstances unfolding from day to day there is doubtless no less enviable job than first Lord of the treasury at this time.
So whether you like our leaders or not, they are there. Imagine for a moment if we had no leadership.
Frightening isn't it?
No voice, no help, no sense of purpose nor unified direction.
In other words, a bit like being a self employed musician right now.
Obviously millions of self employed people work in other sectors apart from music and much of their current experience will be entirely similar to ours.
The difference is the capacity for leadership. I'm sure there is still the odd celebrity plumber or gardner out there, but with nothing like the potential to make headlines and set an agenda that can cause seismic shifts in public opinion.
You only have to look how influential certain music industry types were on matters such as the EU referendum and the December election. So now that the very industry from which you have so enriched yourselves is crippled, possibly never completely to recover, where do I read your words? How do I witness your deeds?
Stormzy, Bono, Sir Bob, Lily, and all the rest of the usual suspects.
Where are you?
Friday 20 March 2020
The Stupidity Pandemic
Friday March 21st.
It gets worse. Yesterday the vast majority of my income between now and the end of May was thrown into jeopardy. Today is different. As the cash flow diminishes to a trickle it would seem as though all the money in the world wouldn't buy me a bottle of milk or a dozen eggs from the look of our local shops.
I saw it coming a week ago and had occasion to criticise someone for posting a picture of empty supermarket shelves on social media. One of my less cynical friends suggested that such pictures might deter people from panic buying, but I knew differently.
It was here. Spreading silently, infecting invisibly, mutating at a terrifying rate. Way more contagious than coronavirus.
Yes, it's the stupidity pandemic currently multiplying like wildfire throughout the United Kingdom. The initial strain's most commonplace symptom was an irrational need to stockpile lavatory paper. It was suggested in certain quarters that sufferers were infected with virulent greed and avarice, and like little proto plutocrats were planning to form a bum wiper's cartel in order to control supplies.
Now perhaps more troublingly it's dairy products that are the latest obsession. Quite why so many people suddenly need so much milk I haven't yet fathomed. It is of course entirely possible that our 24 hour news media (possibly one of the worst innovations of recent decades) has put a story out there regarding the antiviral properties of custard or blancmange.
Sounds ridiculous doesn't it? But does it? If you say anything frequently and loudly enough people will, in large numbers, believe what you say and act upon it. Everywhere you look people are hoarding milk. Milk which if unused will eventually go off. Milk that that elderly person who doesn't drive a car has far greater need of than you. Having been in four shops this afternoon without a drop of semi skimmed in sight I couldn't help wondering if people are also panic buying refrigerators in order to stash their precious lactic booty.
In our current situation there is no logical reason for stockpiling milk. Almost everyone is not going to experience covid 19 at its most virulent. In the unlikely scenario of a nationwide lockdown people would still be able to shop. But then, we're not living in logical, rational times are we? And I'm sorry to sat that that has been the case since long before that thing that came out of Wuhan.
Just remember: as things stand the only potential threat to the supply chain is you, should you be unfortunate enough to fall victim to the stupidity pandemic, or moronavirus as it is also commonly known.
So, has the world gone mad? I would say unequivocally yes, albeit hopefully temporarily.
In order to protect ourselves from this and future outbreaks, it is therefore important to identify the cause of this frighteningly infectious stupidity pandemic. Before any scientists start burning the midnight oil (now trading at less than a bottle of gold top) or any well paid civil servants with gold plated pensions start dreaming up a new acronym for a new committee which will enable them to hector ordinary members of the public who are struggling with recently lost income, I can save you all a whole lot of trouble.
It's the media. Broadcast media, print media, social media. It doesn't matter where you source your news, for at least a week there have been pictures and video of long queues and empty shelves wherever you look. And the nett result is right here, right now, before your very eyes.
No milk today.
Whether you favour the Telegraph or the Guardian, the Mirror or the Sun; BBC, ITV, LBC, CNN or even Al-ja-bleedin-zera, Facebook, Instagram or the cesspool that is Twitter (people with anonymous accounts are truly the dregs of modern society) there has been no escape from it, and those who lit this flame should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves for causing far more chaos than the actual virus itself. Irresponsible, sensationalist, reporting, whether it's a television anchor man or you (yes, you!) uploading a picture of empty shelves at your local Lidl, this is your crisis. You created it, you own it, and I hope you are pleased with what you have done. A pointless national emergency that never needed to happen, the stupidity pandemic is a creation of our modern media. Even pleas from key workers asking you to stop have just served to cause further mutations in the stupidity virus, a cure for which I hope is close at hand.
Meanwhile I'm heading out to mug some hens and kidnap a cow.
Visit my website here.
It gets worse. Yesterday the vast majority of my income between now and the end of May was thrown into jeopardy. Today is different. As the cash flow diminishes to a trickle it would seem as though all the money in the world wouldn't buy me a bottle of milk or a dozen eggs from the look of our local shops.
I saw it coming a week ago and had occasion to criticise someone for posting a picture of empty supermarket shelves on social media. One of my less cynical friends suggested that such pictures might deter people from panic buying, but I knew differently.
It was here. Spreading silently, infecting invisibly, mutating at a terrifying rate. Way more contagious than coronavirus.
Yes, it's the stupidity pandemic currently multiplying like wildfire throughout the United Kingdom. The initial strain's most commonplace symptom was an irrational need to stockpile lavatory paper. It was suggested in certain quarters that sufferers were infected with virulent greed and avarice, and like little proto plutocrats were planning to form a bum wiper's cartel in order to control supplies.
Now perhaps more troublingly it's dairy products that are the latest obsession. Quite why so many people suddenly need so much milk I haven't yet fathomed. It is of course entirely possible that our 24 hour news media (possibly one of the worst innovations of recent decades) has put a story out there regarding the antiviral properties of custard or blancmange.
Sounds ridiculous doesn't it? But does it? If you say anything frequently and loudly enough people will, in large numbers, believe what you say and act upon it. Everywhere you look people are hoarding milk. Milk which if unused will eventually go off. Milk that that elderly person who doesn't drive a car has far greater need of than you. Having been in four shops this afternoon without a drop of semi skimmed in sight I couldn't help wondering if people are also panic buying refrigerators in order to stash their precious lactic booty.
In our current situation there is no logical reason for stockpiling milk. Almost everyone is not going to experience covid 19 at its most virulent. In the unlikely scenario of a nationwide lockdown people would still be able to shop. But then, we're not living in logical, rational times are we? And I'm sorry to sat that that has been the case since long before that thing that came out of Wuhan.
Just remember: as things stand the only potential threat to the supply chain is you, should you be unfortunate enough to fall victim to the stupidity pandemic, or moronavirus as it is also commonly known.
So, has the world gone mad? I would say unequivocally yes, albeit hopefully temporarily.
In order to protect ourselves from this and future outbreaks, it is therefore important to identify the cause of this frighteningly infectious stupidity pandemic. Before any scientists start burning the midnight oil (now trading at less than a bottle of gold top) or any well paid civil servants with gold plated pensions start dreaming up a new acronym for a new committee which will enable them to hector ordinary members of the public who are struggling with recently lost income, I can save you all a whole lot of trouble.
It's the media. Broadcast media, print media, social media. It doesn't matter where you source your news, for at least a week there have been pictures and video of long queues and empty shelves wherever you look. And the nett result is right here, right now, before your very eyes.
No milk today.
Whether you favour the Telegraph or the Guardian, the Mirror or the Sun; BBC, ITV, LBC, CNN or even Al-ja-bleedin-zera, Facebook, Instagram or the cesspool that is Twitter (people with anonymous accounts are truly the dregs of modern society) there has been no escape from it, and those who lit this flame should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves for causing far more chaos than the actual virus itself. Irresponsible, sensationalist, reporting, whether it's a television anchor man or you (yes, you!) uploading a picture of empty shelves at your local Lidl, this is your crisis. You created it, you own it, and I hope you are pleased with what you have done. A pointless national emergency that never needed to happen, the stupidity pandemic is a creation of our modern media. Even pleas from key workers asking you to stop have just served to cause further mutations in the stupidity virus, a cure for which I hope is close at hand.
Meanwhile I'm heading out to mug some hens and kidnap a cow.
Visit my website here.
Thursday 19 March 2020
The Day The Music Died
Thursday, March 19th, 2020
It's been coming for several days. For many friends and colleagues it has already arrived. For me though, it was this morning, when a few annoying, inconvenient cancellations and postponments became a deluge. My income for the next two to three months vanished completely in the time it took to take a couple of phone calls and open a few emails.
This has decimated our industry in just a few short days. Musicians with no other source of income are struggling to find ways to survive, and in the face of a mounting crisis it is heartening to see our community looking after its own. Offers of assistance, constructive and often creative ideas to generate alternative income streams are welcome, helpful and just as importantly can help dial down the despair that is confronting many.
We are a bit of a race apart at the best of times, and as big a problem as financial hardship is for so many there's the question of social isolation too. Ours is the most sociable of professions; the idea of likeminded souls coming together to make music and get paid handsomely for doing so seems almost too good to be true.
That's because it is.
There's a common misconception among the wider public that ours is a well remunerated profession. For perhaps the top one percent (if that) it is. For the rest of us we do what we can to scrape by, surviving on incomes at which most people would turn up their noses. Don't get me wrong though, we don't require sympathy, it's merely the price you pay for pursuing something you love at a professional level.
Normally that's fine but this is different. Due to circumstances beyond our control we are now unable to go to work. Many are struggling to make ends meet, have no safety net whatsoever, and are facing the glacial process of getting themselves assimilated into the benefits system, yet not wishing to and only because they see no alternative. For the foreseeable future our livelihoods are on hold. Some may never reestablish a foothold at this most precarious of coalfaces. Careers will be cancelled.
Our astonishingly wealthy trade union is conspicuously absent too. Having pontificated (either rightly or wrongly but mostly inconclusively) about the consequences of leaving the EU for our profession, it does seem that when real difficulty comes knocking they are hiding behind the sofa.
Personally I am moderately well insulated. I'm still seeing a few brave souls for one-to-one lessons, doing some online tuition, as well as selling a few instructional videos and books. Somewhere I have a few quid stuffed in an old sock so all in all I am cautiously optimistic that I can get through the next quarter unscathed if a little depleted. The thought of not playing with others for the foreseeable (following a great day yesterday recording at Abbey Rd) is a bit like having a kidney forcibly removed. (I wonder what the current market value for a kidney is.....just a thought).
Typical gallows humour notwithstanding I'm one of the relatively lucky ones though. Not everyone is quite so fortunate. So if you take pleasure from the performing arts don't forget us when the curtain comes down and the venues go dark.
Support the performing arts as best you can in the good times so that when things do go wrong we are in with a chance of supporting ourselves.
Read This blog post to learn how you as an individual can bring about change to how performing arts are supported and sustained.
For details of live performances (as and when they return) books, DVDs, CDs and any other professional enquiries please visit my website or contact via email
It's been coming for several days. For many friends and colleagues it has already arrived. For me though, it was this morning, when a few annoying, inconvenient cancellations and postponments became a deluge. My income for the next two to three months vanished completely in the time it took to take a couple of phone calls and open a few emails.
This has decimated our industry in just a few short days. Musicians with no other source of income are struggling to find ways to survive, and in the face of a mounting crisis it is heartening to see our community looking after its own. Offers of assistance, constructive and often creative ideas to generate alternative income streams are welcome, helpful and just as importantly can help dial down the despair that is confronting many.
We are a bit of a race apart at the best of times, and as big a problem as financial hardship is for so many there's the question of social isolation too. Ours is the most sociable of professions; the idea of likeminded souls coming together to make music and get paid handsomely for doing so seems almost too good to be true.
That's because it is.
There's a common misconception among the wider public that ours is a well remunerated profession. For perhaps the top one percent (if that) it is. For the rest of us we do what we can to scrape by, surviving on incomes at which most people would turn up their noses. Don't get me wrong though, we don't require sympathy, it's merely the price you pay for pursuing something you love at a professional level.
Normally that's fine but this is different. Due to circumstances beyond our control we are now unable to go to work. Many are struggling to make ends meet, have no safety net whatsoever, and are facing the glacial process of getting themselves assimilated into the benefits system, yet not wishing to and only because they see no alternative. For the foreseeable future our livelihoods are on hold. Some may never reestablish a foothold at this most precarious of coalfaces. Careers will be cancelled.
Our astonishingly wealthy trade union is conspicuously absent too. Having pontificated (either rightly or wrongly but mostly inconclusively) about the consequences of leaving the EU for our profession, it does seem that when real difficulty comes knocking they are hiding behind the sofa.
Personally I am moderately well insulated. I'm still seeing a few brave souls for one-to-one lessons, doing some online tuition, as well as selling a few instructional videos and books. Somewhere I have a few quid stuffed in an old sock so all in all I am cautiously optimistic that I can get through the next quarter unscathed if a little depleted. The thought of not playing with others for the foreseeable (following a great day yesterday recording at Abbey Rd) is a bit like having a kidney forcibly removed. (I wonder what the current market value for a kidney is.....just a thought).
Typical gallows humour notwithstanding I'm one of the relatively lucky ones though. Not everyone is quite so fortunate. So if you take pleasure from the performing arts don't forget us when the curtain comes down and the venues go dark.
Support the performing arts as best you can in the good times so that when things do go wrong we are in with a chance of supporting ourselves.
Read This blog post to learn how you as an individual can bring about change to how performing arts are supported and sustained.
For details of live performances (as and when they return) books, DVDs, CDs and any other professional enquiries please visit my website or contact via email
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