We played one of those shows in Phoenix, Arizona, where you get on stage and you’re just astounded at how few people are there. Where you think that it couldn’t possibly have been worse, even if you had told everyone that if they came to this venue on this particular night that they would undoubtedly contract smallpox. And you ask what went wrong, when you’re playing a show with two local bands and there was a nice article in the paper, and Goddamn, even the people you’re STAYING WITH in Phoenix didn’t come out! And everyone says, “Oh, well AIDS WOLF is playing down the street,” and “It’s too bad that this had to be the same night as AIDS WOLF,” and you’re like, “Who is AIDS WOLF and why are they negatively effecting my life so much? AIDS WOLF? Like the disease AIDS? What kind of band is that?”But those nights are just going to happen every now and then. Perhaps this is a good time to reprint an essay I wrote a couple years ago. Well, maybe ‘reprint’ is not the right word, since the essay was never printed in the first place, as the music magazine I was writing for went all defunct, and especially since posting something on the web is not ‘printing’ something in any conceivable way.
But, still.
NICK’S GUIDE TO TOURING
You Will Die Alone in America
By Nick Jaina
I just got back from a two-week tour. Two weeks doesn’t sound like very long, but when you’re on the road, every day feels like a week, and every week feels like a month, so it FELT like I was gone for two months and fourteen weeks. And then as soon as you get back home it feels like you never left, except that everyone suddenly has a new haircut and a new girlfriend.
My tour went really well, but that’s because I had very low expectations. I was expecting to die in a fiery bus crash in West Texas, so the fact that I made it all the way to New Orleans and sold a few CDs along the way was quite a triumph.
If you’re thinking of going on tour, you’d do well to lower your expectations. Lower them A LOT. Lower. Lower still. A bit lower. Hmm… I don’t think you know what I mean when I say LOWER.
There are a few things that I realized while on the road that I wish I had thought of before I left home, and I’d like to share them with you here in the hopes that someone, maybe just ONE PERSON… well, I hope it would be more than one person… maybe two… in the hopes that at least THREE TO FIVE PEOPLE can get something out of it. And then share it with their friends.
What you should do before you go out on tour:
1. Get a really uncomfortable bed for your home
If you already have a comfortable bed in your home, get rid of it. Drive it to Mexico and leave it there. Then get the most uncomfortable bed you can find. A free mattress on the sidewalk is a good idea. Something with mites and stains. Broken springs sticking out. The point is to make your home bed really uncomfortable so that when you’re on the road, sleeping on someone’s wet floor, you don’t wish you were back home. Instead, you will relish the wet floor, snuggle in and enjoy your hard, cold, bad night’s sleep, because it’s much better than what you’ll get when you’re back home on your dirty, painful bed.
2. Let go of any notions of getting any sleep while touring
This is a noisy world. Have you noticed that? Not only does every home in America now have a phone, but every individual in America has their own cell phone, and EVERY ONE OF THOSE is set to the cutest/most annoying ring tone. In addition, every home has a front door that is repeatedly knocked on by delivery people and landlords, and every square block of this great country is under construction and will be until AT LEAST October. There is no chance of you getting any sleep EVER.
Oh, did we mention roommates? They work at odd hours and they didn’t know that you were going to be staying in their house, and they MUST lift weights every day or their definition will ATROPHY and they MUST listen to speed metal while they work out. They’ll apologize hours later, after they’ve realized that they woke you up, but you can’t unfry an egg and you can’t UNWAKE SOMEONE UP.
3. Resolve to not drink so much while on tour
Drinking sure is a sticky wicket. On the one hand, it kills the pain, and on the other… Hmmm.
4. Resolve to drink quite a lot while on tour
Be aware that there are still some DRY counties in the south. Isn’t that bizarre? Chart your tour around them.
5. Understand that the price of gasoline will bankrupt you
Remember all those people protesting the Iraq war, saying “No blood for oil”? Well, if we went to war in the Middle East to secure cheap gas prices, it sure didn’t work. If we REALLY want to get prices back under two dollars a gallon, we’re going to have to invade FINLAND, ARGENTINA and ALASKA. And that’s just a start. It might make sense to start drilling on the moon, even though there was never life on the moon, and it’s necessary for some sort of creature with bones to die and become a fossil so it can turn into a fossil fuel. On the off chance that there was once some random creature that died on the moon, it’s worth drilling there.
One of the things that we don’t fully appreciate as Americans is just how big our country is. Not all countries are made the same. When someone in Ireland tours their country, that’s like the equivalent of you or me taking a drive around the block. An AMERICAN block. Things are big over here, especially Texas (where, at best, you can hope to die in a fiery bus crash). The point is that you should budget a large amount of money just for the gas expenses on your tour. Then take that number and double it. And then add a zero to the end of it. And then get a credit card, because even if you don’t detour at all and only drive your car straight from city to city, coasting down the hills, not using the air conditioner ever, you’re still going to break an exhaust manifold in New Mexico, where there is only one expert on exhaust manifolds, and he KNOWS he’s the only expert on exhaust manifolds and prices his services accordingly.
6. Understand that the sound won’t be any good
Pack accordingly.
7. Understand that people in other towns don’t care about you
Think about how long it takes you to build up a community of people in your own town who care about you and the type of music you’re making, who are eager to see you play and buy your new album and hear your new songs. Those people don’t exist in other towns. In other towns there’s your friend’s cousin who’s not really into music. There are also the random people who happen to be in the bar or coffee shop at the exact moment that you’re playing. These people have no reason to care about you. They CARE about coffee and beer. However, you must realize that their lack of affection for you is important. If you use their apathy in a constructive manner, it will humble you, build your character, shape you as a person—”tear you a new one,” as they say.
Not that you need a new one.
8. Understand that the sun has a finite amount of fuel and will some day no longer burn, rendering the solar system a cold, dead place
This is probably the most important thing to realize before you set out on tour. Meditate on this thought for a few hours in a dark room with your phone off. Think about all the things that you love in the world, and how—even if global warming and nuclear war and all that don’t come to pass—it’s STILL all going to crumble and die and there’ll be nothing left. That will give you the proper perspective on how to feel when you’re playing a show in Los Angeles to four people while LENNY KRAVITZ promotes his new line of hair care products at a packed arena full of beautiful, beautiful people who will never know your name.
9. Have fun
