SassyBlonde

1. All that crap people talk about in school about being a musician because you don't want a desk job is a load of horse shit. In deciding to become a professional musician, you have just become your own tax man, secretary, bellhop, travel agent, PR person, you name it. The number of hats I wear won't even begin to fit in my closet. Most of them involve a few hours of desk work EVERY DAY, including weekends and holidays. Get used to it and accept it-- it's the price you pay for being able to do what a lot of people only ever dream of doing.

2. Sometimes it's just about the art. Whatever art that may be to you. There are times when you should worry about the art, not the money. If you find a niche you can't live without, try to go after it, even for low pay at first. Not everything you do that's worthwhile will come with a big paycheck, or even a paycheck at all. No high ideals here folks-- I love playing cheesy pops and musicals and kids shows. It's not high art some of the time, but it makes me excited to get up in the morning.

3. Sometimes it's not just about the art. It's fine to be idealistic about the artistic parts of being a musician, but practicalities have to be observed. You have to pay the rent and feed yourself, so be professional in what you do. Demand good pay for good work, and provide good work for any kind of pay you get. By the same token, handle all of your affairs in a professional manner. Good musicians are not slobs, and slobs aren't good musicians 99% of the time. Clean your house, pay your bills on time, shave. By not doing that, you're giving the rest of us who do a bad name.

4. Appearance DOES matter. It's probably a little un-P.C. to admit, but your appearance does make a huge difference. Classical contractors look askance at purple hair and tattoos. Jazz and show contractors expect you to show up clean, well-dressed, and sober. I'm not saying you can't look like a punk rocker, just make sure your appearance is appropriate to the niche you're looking for. I love a guy with purple hair, but I probably wouldn't hire him to play at the National Cathedral if I had a choice.

5. Teaching lessons is not a second profession, it IS your profession. Most musicians are taught that teaching music lessons is secondary to performing. There are two problems with this approach. First, teaching pays the bills. You can fantasize about making a living as a performer only, but there is a microscopic percentage of people that can claim that, and frankly anyone claiming that probably has a sideline somewhere bringing in extra cash. If you don't learn how to teach, you'll have to take another job like waitressing or that abhorred desk job, which will cut down on your playing time. Seriously, who feels like tooting after a day of nine-to-five? Riiight. Second, teaching is a skill like anything else. The more you do it, the better you get, and when you first start out, you'll really stink. Good teachers take years to hone their craft, and the better you get, the more fun it is.

6. Music making is a business, so run it like one. If you ever hear someone talking about being a poor musician, take note-- this person might not be a good model for you to follow. Musicians make better money than a lot of people really know, the only difference is that it doesn't come from a salaried job. You are your own employee, so make sure you have the business plan figured out. I guarantee, you'll make more money than you think you're actually making and find that a lot of it gets wasted if you don't. Set up your financial affairs like a small business owner would. Save for a rainy day, set up a retirement account, figure out how to invest your money. Then you can afford that $9,000 bass clarinet when you need it.

7. Never let anyone convince you that there's only one path. It's a popular, if involuntary misconception promoted by music schools all over the place: that one particular profession, namely classical music, is more prestigious than another. If you're an instrumentalist, apparently being a soloist is better than being in an orchestra, which is better than playing in a military band, which is better than being a music teacher or freelancer. HORSE. SHIT. This is only a bill of goods sold to you by a generation of teachers still mired in the old system, where orchestras were the only "prestigious" jobs because they were the only existing "steady" jobs. Don't be fooled by this. The unhappiest musicians I know are some of the ones with the most prestigious jobs, and some of the happiest spend their days on pick-up work and instrument repair.

8. No one really cares where you went to school, who you studied with, or who you know. If you went to Juilliard and are Heifetz's grandson and you studied with Perlman, it means exactly shit if you can't play. Talk shop if you must, but don't shoot your mouth off. Let your playing be your best advocate.

9. Plays well gets you the job, plays well with others keeps you the job. I can't tell you how many times I've seen musicians fired or bottom-listed because their colleagues didn't like them as people, no matter how well they played. Don't be an asshat.

10. Talk to your colleagues. No, not about what you think is wrong with the gig. If you don't know them, try to get to know them. What do they do around town? Are they married? How old are their kids? I've had so many good job leads that came from introducing myself to someone I was sitting next to who I didn't see again for six months, only to get a call from some random person who says they recommended me as a nice person to play with and a good player (note the order of the parts of that compliment- see #9).

11. Try not to talk about your colleagues. I know how fun it is to trash other people who annoy you or who have been real asshats to you on a gig. I've engaged in this more times than I like to think about, because it's very satisfying, let's be honest. The unfortunate truth is, though, that it will come back and bite you in the ass every once in a while. I lost a great gig because of this once-- the contractor knew I didn't like someone he'd already hired, so he called someone else. How embarrassing. This one is just a generally good idea, folks. Golden Rule and all that.

12. Never complain about your job. Especially not while you're there. Your colleagues won't appreciate it, even if they agree, because face it, when you complain about your job it insults the people you work with. Not to mention that if it sucks so much, you should just go home. Someone else could probably use your paycheck as much as you could and would probably keep their trap shut.

13. If you must complain about your job, do it to the person who can deal with or fix the problem. As long as you're polite and respectful and reasonable, they'll usually appreciate your honesty and try to fix the problem, or at least have a polite discussion of why not or how you can better satisfy your dissatisfaction (battery operated marital aids often end up the best solution for that one).

14. No amount of apologizing or other obfuscation will cover up the fact that you made a mistake. I played a gig once with a guy who apologized over and over for the same mistake. All that he accomplished is reminding us that he made a mistake. Over and over. Apologize once with good humour and move on.

15. No amount of apologizing or false humility will make you seem like a better player. Apologizing for "terrible playing" or mistakes does not, in fact convince people that you're a better player than what they just heard with their own ears. In fact, especially to other musicians, it makes you sound less professional. After all, think about it logically, if you're consistently making mistakes and apologizing for them, how good can you be?

16. Know when to shut your trap. Sometimes opening your mouth will lose you the job, whether because the timing is bad (in the middle of rehearsal in front of all your colleagues), the contractor or conductor is an asshole, or you decide to eat your shoe in the process. Sometimes it's just better to eat the problem instead and take a couple of Tums with a beer chaser after the gig.

17. Known when to fold 'em. There are times when you just have to bag the gig, no exceptions. If you're working in an unsafe or unhealthy environment, get out of there and/or request that somebody do something about it. That's why we have OSHA and the Union, guys. Now, I don't mean "unhealthy" as in "my stand partner is an asshat and it's causing me unhealthy mental stress". I mean if it's a fire hazard, a safety hazard, or could cause you to lose your hearing, etc. (Earplugs are a cheap, if not totally satisfying way of fixing the loudness issue-- not as satisfying as braining the sound tech, but hey, whatcha gonna do. No amount of whining about how they mess up what you hear is worth hearing aids later in my book. Gird your loins and plug those ear canals.) No matter how cool it may seem to have a good story about how you bravely flew in the face of danger later (we've all heard them, admit it), it will not make your colleagues feel sorry for you after the fact when you're recovering in the ER. Staying in a dangerous situation only means you're stupid, not cool. Make no mistake, you might not ever be asked back to that venue or group after you pipe up about the problem, but at least you won't die in an inferno of death with everyone else.

18. Get there on time. No one cares whether your babysitter showed up or when you were supposed to get you car back from the shop. It's harsh, but true-- contractors don't hire people who show up late. And by "on time" I don't mean at the time the rehearsal's supposed to start. Get there early enough to set up and introduce yourself around to everyone.

19. Ladies, lay off the perfume. Men, AXE is not for musicians. For the love of GOD, people, nix the fragrances in professional situations. Not everyone wants to smell you, particularly the flutist who's tanking up for that stratospheric pianissimo solo. The main idea here is that your Burberry Brit might make your stand partner break out in hives. If you MUST be fragant, stick it in your bag and douse yourself after the gig before you go out for cocktails. This has nothing to do with OSHA, but everything to do with common decency.

20. Know your shit before you walk in the door. I fully realize that there are gigs where you don't have a clue what's going to happen until you get there, but for all the other times when you're provided with information and music, USE IT. This is why you practiced all those years, now parade it out for everyone to see. Your colleagues will really appreciate it. Nothing makes musicians want to shoot somebody more than having to take up the slack for people who are unprepared. I came damn close this past week to killing someone for this very reason.

21. TURN. OFF. YOUR. CELL. PHONE. Seriously, unless your wife is in labor or a family member is dying or in surgery, nothing is that important. You pay the babysitter to stay with your kids for a reason. Contractors fire people whose phones go off in rehearsal. The first time is a mistake, maybe, but try not to let it happen even then.

22. Tune it or DIE. Playing in tune is probably the single biggest complaint I get from the people I hire-- I'm always listening to someone bitch about how this or that person doesn't play in tune with the organ/piano/percussion/oboist/you name it. The bottom line here is that whatever your philospohical leanings on the subject or how it makes your instrument sound (that was a popular argument by a young cellist at a rehearsal I played this week-- he said tuning down to the piano made his instrument sound bad) you'll really seem like an asshole if you don't match up. Period. End of story.

23. Keep your solos to yourself if they're not yours. Please, please, PLEASE refrain from playing the soloist's or your stand partner's solos when you're sitting around or warming up. It always makes my hair hurt when people do that. It's SO. INCREDIBLY. RUDE. Not to mention a little Sopranos-- the guy that the solo belongs to will begin to wonder how you're planning to off him so you can play it instead.

24. When some one congratulates you on your performance, simply say thank you. I cannot stress this enough. This is one of my all-time pet peeves about pro musicians. See if this sounds familiar: you go backstage and shake the person's hand and tell them "That was a beautiful performance," only to have them say questioningly "Really. do you think so?" and outline everything they could have done better, then patronizingly accept your repeated compliments with a bashful thanks and more protests. Seriously people, it's offensive. What it says to the poor audience member is that he or she obviously can't hear things as acutely as you and that they have a very uninformed opinion of the music. Just say thank you and smile. If they thought enough of you to come backstage and congratulate you, accept the praise graciously and enjoy it.

25. Know who butters your bread and be nice to them. Do not EVER be an asshat to those people who make what you do possible. Stage managers, techs, and roadies are the ones who keep the show running. They're also the ones who make sure your bags don't get left on the curb, your instruments don't get crushed, and you don't miss your stage calls. You may feel they're beneath you, but if you treat them like that you'll be the one beneath something-- probably a heavy suitcase going down two flights of stairs.

26. Being a musician absolutely DOES NOT give you and excuse to be a slob. "What the fuck?" you're thinking about this one, right? I don't mean to stop rockin' out, just to be clean about it. No one likes a slob. Feel free to stay out partying all night with your groupies and get shit-faced and come home and pass out on the bathroom floor. But wouldn't it be a slightly less shameful experience if the guy who drags you through the front door didn't have to pick your underwear off the bathroom doorknob to get you to the Porcelain God? I know that musicians are supposed to be artistic slobs in some peoples' minds, but let's not propagate that stereotype. I have a friend who is the life of the musical party-- he's free, bohemian, parties like a motherfucker and plays like a god. He also pays his bills on time, wears clean underwear, showers, and brushes his hair occasionally. Don't let being a musician be your excuse for being a slob, because those of us that endeavor to overcome that stereotype will come and beat your ass into submission. (The Muse is going to laugh at this one, because she knows exactly which one of my sister's roommates inspired this post.)

27. Support your local repairman. Repairing instruments is a thankless job. It doesn't pay nearly enough, and this is the guy that has to fix all the stupid shit you do and saves your ass before the next gig, so when you find someone who does good work, stick with him. If you create a relationship, he'll be much more likely to get up and fix your broken clarinet at 7 AM before your 10 AM rehearsal for that super-important Kennedy Center gig. (Can you tell this one's from personal experience? I love my guy.) Pay whatever he asks, because odds are it's not half of what he should be charging you, and talk up his skills to everyone you know.

28. Learn to do all kinds of gigs. I went to a traditional music school, where I learned music history, clarinet pedagogy, and composition of classical music. The only similarity between what I learned in school and what I do for a living is that it involves the same instruments (sometimes). If you're a woodwind player, learn to play all of them that you can (I didn't learn to play sax and flute until after I got out and working and now that's easily 75% of my workload). If you're a brass or saxophone player, you'd better know how to play jazz and commercial music. If you're a pianist, learn to play in ensembles with a conductor. I'm not saying you'll have to use it all, but it'll sure make it more likely that you can pay your bills with playing music if you're a little more diverse.

29. Listen to more than just the kind of music that you play. It makes you a more balanced person. Personally, I HATE talking to clarinet dorks about nothing but how that guy tongued measure 357 in the Mozart Concerto. It's ridiculous, and one of the reasons those geeks got beat up in school. Broaden your horizons and talk about something that interests someone who doesn't know what an eingang is.

30. Find something that lights your fire outside of music. The best conversations I have with my colleagues are about their hobbies. I have one friend who restores classic cars when he's not playing his trumpet. It's fascinating. My colleagues at the theater are huge football and baseball fans, and hijinks ensue. One of my bosses collects shark teeth, and I collect seashells. The guy that shows up and talks pedagogy sits in a corner by himself on breaks. Don't let this happen to you.