When I began working as a musician in Fremantle some 35 years ago, I earned around $600 per week. I had a regular gig and it was ongoing. Nowadays I'd think myself very lucky to make that sort of wage playing music. It's usually much less. And compared to many musicians, I'm doing very well.
Last year in Melbourne, the city's entire live music industry rallied to get the Victorian government to recognise the industry's cultural and economic contribution to the state.
This town's reputation as the best live music scene in the country was trumpeted proudly throughout the media. Much was made of a loved pub, the Tote, being forced to close as a live music venue thanks to restrictive licensing laws. It became the symbol of the struggle to maintain a vibrant music scene in a heartless environment of profiteers, bureaucrats and dollar-driven decisions.
Thanks, however, to the industry figures and musos who took part in the rally, public awareness of the importance of the industry grew and became something that government would notice. Thanks to the rally, the Tote reopened as a music venue just a few months after its high-profile closure. It was considered a victory for live music in this state.
And, one year after the Tote's historic reopening, what of the musicians who create this live music so cherished by the state? Are they able to get a guaranteed fee for playing in this victorious, symbolic pub?
Err, actually … no.
Why is it that after dedicating my life to playing music, I now earn less than ever?
People like to blame digital technology for the ease of obtaining music free, doing its makers out of their income. Technology will always change things - it is said that some theatre organists committed suicide with the advent of the talkies. Maybe true, sadly, but there are still organists.
I blame attitudes.
''It must be wonderful doing what you love for a living,'' people often say to me.
Or, ''Put yourself in my shoes, I've got a business to run,'' which is a common refrain to working musicians from those who don't want to pay much for their services. The attitude behind this remark is taken as some kind of given and perfectly acceptable.
Well, I am in your shoes, Mr Publican. I've also got a business to run. The business of paying the sound guy, fellow musos, transport, rent. I've walked more than a mile in your shoes and I'm still not where you are.
Another thing I've heard said too many times is ''Why don't you get a real job?'' as if it's too much fun to be a real job.
Others will tell you to treat your music like a hobby and if you get paid for it, that's the icing on the cake. This is a big part of the problem; in my view there are so many people who are prepared to treat it like a hobby, that the professional musician is undermined.
Dodgy preconceptions dog other professions: nurses will work unhealthy shifts for inordinately low wages because they ''have a desire to help the sick''; teachers ''only work during school hours and they get all those holidays'' - students' reports seemingly writing themselves … so they don't need to be paid as much as people from the private sector; CEOs ''are all psychopaths so we have to let them have seven-figure salaries … '' I could go on.
What I'm driving at is that the way certain professions are treated seems to be dictated by entrenched preconceptions. It seems perfectly reasonable to many that music publishers, record labels and publicans have a business to run and should be compensated for their work.
Yesterday, the government released its report into the live music industry's annual economic contribution to the state, which was calculated at more than $500 million.
It is time attitudes changed to more fairly benefit those without whom there would be no music industry - the musicians.
Via
Last year in Melbourne, the city's entire live music industry rallied to get the Victorian government to recognise the industry's cultural and economic contribution to the state.
This town's reputation as the best live music scene in the country was trumpeted proudly throughout the media. Much was made of a loved pub, the Tote, being forced to close as a live music venue thanks to restrictive licensing laws. It became the symbol of the struggle to maintain a vibrant music scene in a heartless environment of profiteers, bureaucrats and dollar-driven decisions.
Thanks, however, to the industry figures and musos who took part in the rally, public awareness of the importance of the industry grew and became something that government would notice. Thanks to the rally, the Tote reopened as a music venue just a few months after its high-profile closure. It was considered a victory for live music in this state.
And, one year after the Tote's historic reopening, what of the musicians who create this live music so cherished by the state? Are they able to get a guaranteed fee for playing in this victorious, symbolic pub?
Err, actually … no.
Why is it that after dedicating my life to playing music, I now earn less than ever?
People like to blame digital technology for the ease of obtaining music free, doing its makers out of their income. Technology will always change things - it is said that some theatre organists committed suicide with the advent of the talkies. Maybe true, sadly, but there are still organists.
I blame attitudes.
''It must be wonderful doing what you love for a living,'' people often say to me.
Or, ''Put yourself in my shoes, I've got a business to run,'' which is a common refrain to working musicians from those who don't want to pay much for their services. The attitude behind this remark is taken as some kind of given and perfectly acceptable.
Well, I am in your shoes, Mr Publican. I've also got a business to run. The business of paying the sound guy, fellow musos, transport, rent. I've walked more than a mile in your shoes and I'm still not where you are.
Another thing I've heard said too many times is ''Why don't you get a real job?'' as if it's too much fun to be a real job.
Others will tell you to treat your music like a hobby and if you get paid for it, that's the icing on the cake. This is a big part of the problem; in my view there are so many people who are prepared to treat it like a hobby, that the professional musician is undermined.
Dodgy preconceptions dog other professions: nurses will work unhealthy shifts for inordinately low wages because they ''have a desire to help the sick''; teachers ''only work during school hours and they get all those holidays'' - students' reports seemingly writing themselves … so they don't need to be paid as much as people from the private sector; CEOs ''are all psychopaths so we have to let them have seven-figure salaries … '' I could go on.
What I'm driving at is that the way certain professions are treated seems to be dictated by entrenched preconceptions. It seems perfectly reasonable to many that music publishers, record labels and publicans have a business to run and should be compensated for their work.
Yesterday, the government released its report into the live music industry's annual economic contribution to the state, which was calculated at more than $500 million.
It is time attitudes changed to more fairly benefit those without whom there would be no music industry - the musicians.
Via
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