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In a way, the show was a surreal experience. Music, for me, is a part-time passion. So getting a gig like this at such a reputable venue (which, by the way, usually only books full-time artists who do this stuff for a living) was already a stroke of good fortune. The basic condition was that I draw at least 50 paids at the door on a Tuesday night. For many bands, this would be no problem. For me, I knew it was going to be uphill climb. To make matters more challenging, I’m a thirtysomething guy with a bunch of thirtysomething friends and "fans," many of whom have families, high-pressure jobs and other big-ass responsibilities. I knew it wouldn’t be easy convincing them to come out on a weeknight to see me play and, as it turned out, it wasn’t.
But in the end, I somehow cajoled slightly more than 50 people to pay the $10 cover (I had loose RSVPs from about 100 people, by the way, but many just bailed at the last minute. Plan for that. It always happens). In summary, here’s how a schlub like me was able to meet my quota. In addition to all the usual promo (trying to get press, etc.), here are just highlights of some of the other things I did to promote the show:
Swallow your pride – I emailed and called everybody I knew in order to generate interest. I begged. I pleaded. Once I got through the people I hang out with on a regular basis, I worked my way down to friends I hadn’t seen in years. Then I hit up all my "acquaintances," some of who were probably offended I was contacting them after so much time only because I needed something. I didn’t care. I was on a mission: "Must grovel! Must pack room!" As a bonus, I got to catch up with some old friends. One guy who I hadn’t seen in about five years showed up at the gig. You never know.
Get the music out there. I paid to press 1,000 professional promo CDs in paper sleeves, each with three songs from the album. I put stickers on them with the show date and started handing the discs out to everyone I could (I kept a ready supply in my inside jacket pocket at all times). I went to local rock shows and put them on car windshields in the parking lot. Weeks in advance, I left stacks of promo CDs at a table at Iota’s front door for patrons. I probably distributed at least 500 discs before the show, and while I’m not sure any of this had a huge impact on attendance, it seemed to bring in a few more people. At the very least, there are 500 more people out there exposed to my music (or using shiny new coasters). Maybe they’ll buy a CD at some point or come to a future show.
Consider MySpace – A few weeks before the show, I joined the MySpace network, a friends and networking site (You can find me at www.myspace.com/mikegrebb). My nefarious plot was to find some new friends who, oh by the way, might come out to my CD release show. In a couple of weeks, I amassed a friend list of nearly 130 people living within a 20 mile radius of little ole’ me. Of course, I invited them all out to the show, and some of them actually came. Most didn’t. But hundreds of them have listened to the music on my page, so the networking aspect has been wonderful. I also met a lot of great local musicians through MySpace. One local band liked the music on my page and hooked me up with an opening slot at a gig they were playing a few weeks ago. I also met a couple of MySpacers at open mics. I actually should have joined MySpace a long time ago.
Anyway, those are just some examples of what one guy can do to promote a CD release show with some elbow grease and shameless begging. But again, I’m just a part-timer. For bands that are trying to do music full-time, the CD release show is more than a self-congratulatory celebration. It’s a vital part of promoting and selling that new album. Putting on a successful show at that level is quite a feat. I only needed 50 stinkin’ people! Some bands are trying to get hundreds!
Case in point: I recently spoke with Nathan Penrose, the lead singer and guitarist of the Modesto, Calif.-based band Transport (interestingly enough, I met him through MySpace). Last summer, Transport held a CD release show Modesto’s State Theater to a nearly sell-out crowd of more than 500 fans. It’s probably a good case study in how lots of hard work and creativity in promoting a show can really pay off, even against the odds. You see… after booking the gig, the band learned that the big local rock radio station, which had supported Transport in the past, was sponsoring a major concert a few days before its big show. Ooops. "Right off the bat, we were like ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’," Penrose says. "We knew right then that we weren’t going to get any radio support whatsoever."
Nonetheless, the band had a 550-capacity venue to fill—so they got creative. In addition to pre-selling tickets at a healthy discount ($10 instead of $15 at the door) and handing out about 1,000 flyers around town, band members plastered dozens of posters within 10 miles of the venue at any business that would let them, including liquor stores, music stores, pizza parlors, etc. They even gave free tickets to hair stylists and hung posters up at their salons, which was more clever than it might seem on the surface. "The average age of these girls is 20," he says. "Some of them put the posters up on their mirrors. They were telling all their clients about the show. Give out a few free tickets, and you get free advertising."
The band also convinced seven local businesses to pay $150 each in return for naming them on the flyers and even showing "visual commercials" on a big screen behind the stage at the show (in between acts). In the end, the show was a huge success. Transport got more than 500 people in the door and sold about 150 CDs. Penrose still has at least one regret. "If there’s anything I could changed," he says, "I would have been a little more careful about the scheduling." Nonetheless, the band’s hard work and creativity saved the day—despite the lack of radio promotion.
There are other success stories out there as well, if you only look. Last month, I asked people to email me with their CD release show anecdotes. I can’t include them all, of course, but a few are worth noting. Poughkeepsie, N.Y.-based artist Xoch, for example, recently finished up an entire "CD Release Tour" of various towns for her new album Cabaret. When she left, she was drawing 50 to 200 people per gig. By her last show on Feb. 19, she drew 420 people. "If I can win over one new fan every show, then I have done my job," she recounted in an email to me, stressing that she tries to make a personal connection with every new fan so they remember her.
I also got an email from "Uncle Bergie" of the San Francisco-based trip-hop-rock band Zonk that perhaps illustrates better than anything the serendipity that can happen through unintentional marketing. For the release of the band’s second album, Tongue in Cheeks, the band appeared in their underwear for posters placed around town. That set off a rumor that they would actually play the release show in their underwear. There’s no telling how many more people came to the show just for that reason, but halfway through the set someone yelled for the band (three guys, one female) to strip. They all did, and played the rest of the show in their skimpies.
I chose that story to end this little article on for one reason. Promoting a successful CD release show can be a humiliating, pride-swallowing, sweat-drenched plod up a seemingly peakless mountain. It’s enormous work to plan for just one show. But when the big night arrives and you see those people start filing into the venue, all the promo work you did up until that point falls away into history. Now you have one mission left: Get up on stage and play your guts out. Even if you’re in your underwear.
(Mike Grebb is a writer, journalist and singer/songwriter based in Washington, D.C. He has written for numerous publications, including Wired and Billboard. He just completed his debut solo record, Resolution, which is available at www.mikegrebb.com).