The Importance of the Live Show

The following is a free look inside the heart of Synic Spins. It's a long read. It's unedited, raw, and possibly a little scatter-brained. But if you can follow my crazy train of thought (nod to the Ozzman) then maybe you'll learn something. And I hope that some of you might continue the discussion in the comments below, such as your favorite concert memories.
Enjoy.

In the wake of the pandemic that's been shaking the entire world for a number of months now, I wanted to take this opportunity to remind the world what usually shakes you on summer nights. Drums. Bass. Guitars. Amps the size of your car. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm talking about live concerts. For those of you crazy cave-dwellers out there that have never been to a live show, let me first acknowledge the notoriety and say that they are much more than just loud, obnoxious parties with tons of drunk sweaty people breathing down your neck and spilling beer on your head. (Though all those things can happen...) And those violent mosh pits your parents warn you about aren't usually welcomed by the band on stage, or the security guards posted around the venue floor.

What many people fail to realize is that without these live shows, there are no bands. Many music fans have never been to a show before, and they simply show support to their favorite bands by buying their album, or maybe a t-shirt that they found in a store. And many fans believe that to be enough. To some degree it might be, any support is good support after all. But the truth of the matter is, these bands that we listen to on the radio don't earn their living simply from having a hit song or two on the radio, nor can they afford to live based on their record sales alone - especially in today's world where fans are too damn cheap to actually go out and buy a CD or vinyl record, when they can just sit on their ass and stream the new album to their phones for a max price of 99 cents per month. No, recording artists actually earn their living from ticket sales, and merchandise sales from the booth at their show. Consider this next time you tell yourself that $40 is too much to spend on a black t-shirt. That absurd price isn't necessarily "the band being greedy," but rather they are priced that way so that they actually turn some kind of profit from them.

That $40 t-shirt probably cost them $10 to make, leaving them with $30 to pay the venue rental price, then they pay for all the roadies, tech guys, security, etc. Then, after everyone else has eaten, the band takes their cut - IF there's anything left. This is why you only pay $20 for a shirt at a smaller venue show, with a no-name local band acting as the event headliner, but then you could go see a big name band with a massive stage production (Motley Crue or Guns N' Roses for example) and pay somewhere around $35-40 for a shirt. The basic rule of thumb here is, the bigger the stage production, (more lights, stage accessories, etc,) the more you're gonna pay for the ticket and the tour shirt. If you get a $10 ticket to a show in some dingy bar somewhere, expect a smaller crowd, with the band and a couple lights on a small stage in the corner of the room. Almost feels like you can walk right up to them and high-five them on stage. (And sometimes, you can.) The flip side of this, is that some fans have fallen victim of paying $100 for a shirt at the most recent KISS farewell tour. But boy will they be pissed when Gene and the other clowns hit the road again in 5 years. So remember: unknown local band = small production, low ticket and merch prices. Massive worldwide band = larger production, higher prices.

Money aside, there's so much more to the live show than just making sure your favorite artists can keep making music. Anyone who has been one in the crowd at a live show can tell you that listening to your favorite songs through some earbuds, or living room speakers can never even come close to seeing the band on stage, playing your favorite songs just for you. Hearing these songs performed live is the way they were intended to be heard, with all the little inflections of the singers voice resonating raw to your eardrums, without the tone correction and over-production.

The live sound is one of those key elements that makes or breaks a band. It can make a good band not so good, or it can be what makes a good band great. Consider a point I made in one of my earlier posts where I broke down the differences between the 3 frontmen of Van Halen. The loyal Team Hagar fans out there have likely seen both Dave and Sam take the stage, and they weren't disillusioned by the mid-air splits and bravado to think that Dave was a good singer. Keeping VH in mind, there is a reason that when they first started they would record and tour, record and tour, record and tour every single year. The records were done with no overdubs at all, just one guitar, one layer of sound. That way when they hit the road they could play the song exactly like the record. (Maybe with an extended solo here and there...) In fact, playing live shows was how Van Halen - and many other bands, if not all - were discovered and signed to begin with. They started out in backyard parties, moved on to clubs on the Sunset Strip, then they took over arenas all over the world. Furthermore, a good band like Halestorm becomes a GREAT band once you've seen them perform on stage. Trust me; the on-stage solos, instrumental jams, a capella song intros, and crowd interactions that are standard in their shows dial them up to 11. You may have their songs on your phone, but you don't truly know Halestorm until you've seen them in person.

Live shows aren't just about the headliners, either. Shows are actually the best way for smaller local bands to gain exposure, and spread their fanbase around the country, maybe even the world. Just to stay true to the Van Halen example, their first major tour was opening for another group, and it was on this tour that they took their fanbase all over the country, selling t-shirts and records in every venue they hit. Van Halen wasn't the first band to expand this way, nor will they be the last. While also building off the Halestorm example - as you guys all know I do love me some Halestorm - I actually have them to thank for helping me discover 3 new bands. In a recent post, I talked about the band Ded. I would have no idea who Ded even was had I not seen them on tour with New Year's Day and In This Moment. I went to the Mother's House of Horror Tour to see NYD and ITM because I am a big fan, but had it not have been for the first Halestorm show I went to, where NYD and ITM were both also on the ballot, I never would have found them.

When bands hit the road in the summer for a big tour, they have truckloads of equipment that go along with them. With all that equipment, they'll need a team of guys to pack/unpack the trucks, set up the lights/sound, and tune the instruments. That's where the roadies come in. Many people think that with the virus butt-fucking the planet, only the artists themselves are the ones that are hurting for money. When tours aren't happening, the roadies and crew are out of jobs completely. Those guys are all contract to contract, so they only work when there's a tour to work for. Many of your favorite artists have actually started fundraisers for their crew while they're out of work. Check out their online shops, they probably have some kind of crew shirt for sale, where the proceeds go to feeding their team. After all, the crew are the unsung heroes of the live show. With no crew, there's no show.

The final point I want to make, and the lightest point, is the strong sense of family that you get when you're one in the crowd. Just imagine it, you're standing in a sea of 10,000 people, all focused on the stage. The singer stands before you, and starts to clap his hands. Suddenly, something comes over you, and you feel the overwhelming need to clap with him. And you're not alone. That's when you look around and realize you are just one of the 10,001 people clapping in the arena. When the clapping stops, maybe the fist-pumping or hand waving begins. a seemingly-endless sea of hands is like nothing you have ever seen before. And when the rock songs become ballads, the fists in the crowd become lighters and cellphone flashlights, and it feels though all the stars in the night sky have surrounded you in that same arena, where the only light was the spot on the singer just moments ago.

The grand point I am making here, maybe in too many words, is that live music performances are one of the few things we have left in this world that are truly good. A concert is a place where thousands of people can come together as one. Strangers become a family; all united for the sake of celebrating our favorite bands. And the best part is when we leave our politics, religion, skin color, sexuality, and gender identities at the door - all external conflict ends, like the world just stops turning for the evening. The only thing that matters is the family inside that venue, and you can just forget about life for a while. We are reminded the meaning of the words brotherhood and sisterhood, how it feels to love and be loved. When we finally figure our shit out and the virus is a part of the past, I hope to see you all at a show sometime, raising your horns right alongside me.