MUSIC

Bands running on empty

Musicians rethink tours as gas prices devour profits.

By Joe Gross
AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF
Sunday, June 22, 2008

Working musicians in 2008 face a bizarre paradox. The Internet revolution and the rise of social networking sites such as MySpace mean that an artist's music can go anywhere, often — for good or ill — for free.

Rising fuel prices mean that the musician might not be able to follow.

"About a year ago, we first started to seriously consider how gas issues were affecting our touring," said drummer Keith Langford of the Austin rock band the Gourds. "My first response was, 'Oh, it just doesn't matter. We're going to continue rocking regardless.' It's at a different place now."

Indeed. When the rise of file-sharing culture in 2000 looked to cut deeply into CD sales, musicians could take comfort knowing that they made most of their money on the road. Langford, who joined the Gourds in 1998, figures the band is on the road about six months out of the year. A solid two-week tour here, a weekender there, all add up to playing 100 to 150 shows a year, closer to the latter in the past four or five years.

But as gas prices hover near $4 per gallon and show no signs of decreasing, many bands are taking losses on touring and soon might not be able to afford to tour at all.

In 1998, the price of a gallon of premium gas averaged from $1.13 to $1.20, according to the federal government's list of weekly premium gasoline prices. This year, the price has ranged from $3.19 in January to $4.27 the week of June 9, a 350 percent increase in 10 years.

Unfortunately, the distance between cities has not decreased.

Smaller bands struggle

In spite of the country's enormous size, getting in the van and touring has been both a rite of passage and an economic necessity for American bands. Country bands played bars and dances, R&B acts established the "chitlin' circuit" and early rock bands moved from ballroom to ballroom. Cheap gas made it possible.

In the 1980s, bands such as Black Flag, Sonic Youth and R.E.M. established the underground club circuits that alternative and punk rock bands play to this day. Austin's own Butthole Surfers once stayed on the road for about two years. (At that point, admittedly, the distinction between "touring musician" and "homeless guys living in a van" becomes a little thin.)

Today's gas prices are hitting bands — and audiences — in different ways. Audiences who go to see famous bands with higher door prices — say, more than $20 — might not notice anything at all. Fans of working touring bands that charge between $7 and $15 a ticket might feel a pinch, especially in bigger cities, as those prices are raised. And fans of smaller bands just starting out might not be able to see these acts at all if gas prices prevent touring.

Of course, Austin is both a very competitive live music market and a "B" market, where door prices are a little lower than in bigger cities like Los Angeles, New York and Chicago.

Bigger bands are simply raising their guarantee, the fixed minimum fee they receive for a performance, to cover fuel costs, promoter Charles Attal of Austin-based C3 Presents said. "They know what touring for a week costs them, and instead of a $5,000 guarantee, they might charge $5,500."

That extra $500 can be spread over 2,000 tickets for 25 cents a head. Not too shabby when you consider, as Attal said, "It costs about double to be on the road these days" compared with 10 years ago.

For smaller bands whose bread and butter is touring, it's a moment of near panic. An extra dollar means a lot for bands whose usual covers are in the $7 to $15 range, which is most Austin outfits. "We know our audience is fine with a $15 cover," Langford said, "but will they be willing to pay $18 to $20 in a bigger city like San Francisco?"

The up-and-coming Florida-based rock band Torche headlined Emo's small room in May. "Man, gas prices are just killing us," Torche guitarist Juan Montoya said. "The only thing we can do is drive with our windows open and not use A/C." Some believe this method saves gas. Some do not.

Torche will return Saturday to Austin to open for the Japanese hard rock band Boris at the Mohawk. The problem is that when a band opens for a larger act, there's no chance to make more than the guaranteed minimum, other than merchandise sales; the opener won't get a cut of the cover charge like the headlining band might.

Yet the gas consumed remains the same. "It's tough when you're relying on (merchandise) sales to make up costs," Montoya said.

In mid-May, Austin's Band of Heathens did a weekender that cost a bundle in gas.

"We did about 900 miles," manager Ethan Bessey said. "We went up to Oklahoma City Friday night, back down to Dallas on Saturday for two shows. Then Sunday we came back and hit the KNBT jam in New Braunfels."

Bessey said the band filled the tank of its Dodge Sprinter van three times at $108 each, a total of about $325 in gas to play those four shows. Bessey declined to disclose how much the band got paid for each show.

"Most of these shows are booked two to three months in advance, and diesel fuel might go up another dollar in that time. We've done similar runs before, and even in January it cost $80 to $90 to fill up the tank," Bessey said. "That extra cost definitely hurts, so you have to be smarter about making the runs you do. Luckily we were working with clubs that provided guarantees, meals and hotel rooms. Otherwise, you'd really be sticking your neck out, particularly in new markets."

As for bands just starting out, well, sleeping on floors is the least of their problems. "We're going to keep going until there's just no money left," the Gourds' Langford said. "But Kevin (Russell), our singer, is like, 'If we were starting now, I don't know what we'd do.' You used to be able to just drive to Houston and play a gig and not worry about making back the gas money. That's not true for little bands anymore."

Those little bands have to be prepared to lose money, said Laura Thomas, owner and operator of ComboPlate Booking. Her clients include singer-songwriters Michael Fracasso, Ana Egge and Matt the Electrician and the band Moonlight Towers.

"Any time I work with someone going into a new market for a percentage of the door versus a guarantee, I tell them they really have to be willing to lose money," Thomas said. "It's been that way all along."

Thomas said some of her acts are scaling back touring, both in dates and size of touring party. "I have a lot of songwriters going out solo in a car because they can't afford (the expenses of their) van anymore," she said. "They would prefer to go out with a full band, but they can't afford it."

Some labels help out

The Austin band Shearwater is in the middle of a national tour supporting its new album, "Rook." "If it wasn't for tour support, we would not be able to do this tour. Period," Shearwater songwriter and singer Jonathan Meiburg said.

Tour support is one of the industry's more nebulous concepts. It means different things to nearly every label.

"In general, tour support (in our case anyway) is paid to cover a deficit related to tour expenses versus tour income," said Gerard Cosloy, co-founder of Shearwater's label, Matador Records.

It doesn't have to work this way. For example, one prominent indie label gives free products as tour support, a set number of the band's CDs for every seven shows. Other labels ask that a band make a pre-tour budget with estimates of costs encompassing the whole tour. Other labels will pick a flat fee for a set number of dates. For example, a label offers $500 for a two-week tour and leaves it up to the band to budget.

If a relatively unestablished band is touring North America for a month, Cosloy said, it might be earning between $150 and $300 a night, and chances are, such a journey will not be profitable, though merchandise sales can make up for some of that.

Factors that go into the cost include the size of the touring party, whether the band owns or rents a van, how much equipment is rented, and whether the band sleeps on floors or in motels.

Cosloy said that, in general, Matador advances money to the band to cover the shortfall. In some instances, the label pays all of the tour expenses upfront and is paid back as the trip ensues or recoups the money from artist royalties.

"In return for this investment," he said, "hopefully the band will see an increase in profile, a spike in sales and be well received enough so that subsequent tours earn higher guarantees. We're also making an investment of sorts in someone's touring career."

By the band's second or third album, such a loan might not be necessary.

But many labels aren't in a financial position to offer tour support. (Shearwater's previous label, Misra Records, did not.)

The Gourds have no such support, either. They put out their own records and so have to plan every move. With two smokers and two nonsmokers, the band toured for years in two Ford Econoline vans, the workhorse vehicles of do-it-yourself touring. Gas prices have forced them to eliminate one van.

"We've really found that flying is cheaper than driving," Langford said. "One or two of us drives one van with all the stuff in it to wherever we're going to start the tour. The other two fly as cheaply as possible to that location with almost no baggage. We rent a small car with really cheap mileage for the other two guys to drive in for the tour."

Keeping music local

So if artists can't make money from record sales and can't make money from touring, what are they to do?

Perhaps a festival mentality will begin to apply to whole cities; it would become necessary to go to, say, Philadelphia to see Philly bands.

Austin is in a slightly better position than most: People still come here as a tourist destination to see live music, which seems an argument for the city to support it as much as possible.

"Maybe we are returning to this idea of highly localized entertainment," Langford said. "In New Orleans, the Rebirth Brass Band play every week (at the Maple Leaf Bar) when they're not touring. But you really have to start thinking, 'Well, how many people go to see live music once a week, once a month, once a year?' "

Make no mistake; these are hard questions. The way that most working musicians make their living is in jeopardy. With signs suggesting that gas prices are not only not dropping, but likely to increase, this problem isn't going away.

jgross@statesman.com; 912-5926

The cost to bands of hitting the road

How gas prices might affect your favorite band: Let's say Band X is a four-piece that has been around for about a year and has built a bit of Texas buzz. The band is in the fortunate position of being able to command a guarantee of $100 for a show in Houston.

It's about 165 miles between Austin and Houston, about 330 miles round trip.

Let's assume Band X has a 1998 Ford Econoline E-250 van that gets about 14 miles per gallon on the highway. The number drops when towing a trailer, as bands often do.

This means the van's 35-gallon tank can go 490 miles.

The band could probably make its Houston trip on one tank of gas if it's lucky, doesn't hit any brutal traffic jams and isn't towing a trailer for gear and merchandise.

In 1998, this one tank of premium gas cost between $39.55 and $42. Band X's $100 guarantee is more than double its gas money.

In January 2008, that same tank cost about $111; in June, $149. After one show, Band X is in the hole.