One Step Above Guest List

Jumping Back In

"Soon, the tour was over, and fall was heading in," Melvin said almost sadly. "I said goodbye to my bands and that I would miss them. I didn't get to say goodbye to D as there was so much going on on the last day of the tour. As the holidays grew closer, the shows thinned out. There weren't as many bands in town. I focused on finishing my semester at college (did I mention I was in school?). I can honestly say that I learned more about Marketing and Promotions from working at the label than I ever did at college. Most of my projects and papers based completely on shows or tours I attended and my work in the field.

I didn't see much of D over the next year or so. I would see him mentioned in magazines or newspapers and once on MTV news. He was dating a famous starlet again. I didn't get jealous when I heard about him and other women. We had a connection that was on a different level than what he had with them, which was good enough at the time. He would tell me he was only having fun. That with this type of girl, he didn't have to have or want a relationship with them. He would buy them little trinkets to keep them happy until he decided it was over. As disgusted or insulted as I should have felt as a woman, he never treated me that way.

I continued with my life, graduated (writing most of my papers backstage during shows), and got a full-time job at a newspaper's personal ads department. I kept my part-time job at the label to maintain my sanity. There's another story idea for you. "The people you meet in the personals." That job opened my mind to reality. Some people only want to find love, but there is a dark side to it too. The company snuck those in on you. You begin the job thinking you're just doing regular ads, but after you get the hang of the position, they throw you into the "adult ads." I don't have an issue with fetishes, but some of the things people requested in their ads were disgusting. We had to report a few people to the police. Some customers would mistake us for an escort service. We had fathers calling to get girls for their sons, people cheating on their spouses, and prisoners calling only to speak to the customer service reps because most were female, and our number was free. We also had rules like you could only read an adult ad once in a monotone, robot voice. There was some relief. There was a feisty and fun drag queen in Vegas who loved me but hated my friend Deisy. There was also Jeffrey, an intellectually disabled man from New York. He had an ad in the paper in Brooklyn. We didn't know much about him except that he worked at the Salvation Army part-time and loved sushi and pajamas. He called every day when he got home from work, and we all hoped we would be the ones who got him. If you did, you would say out loud, "Oh, hi Jeffrey!!!" and revel in the groans from the rest who had to take less-than-desirable calls. Jeffrey would talk to you about his day and ask if anyone had called about his ad. We always hoped they would, but they didn't. He didn't seem to mind, and we renewed his ad for free.

After a year, I couldn't work there anymore. I sat at my desk and had just gotten off a call when I overheard that one of the guys I worked with was out for the day because he had a job interview at Sunfire Records. I jumped up, ran to my co-worker, and asked her if she knew where. I was never one for favors, but I had to call one in. I hadn't heard about any full-time job openings at Sunfire, so I began to call around. I got in touch with Crystal, who worked for Rising Moon Records. She told me that a woman named Joan and her manager David was holding interviews at a local hotel bar and gave me David's phone number. I called David's number as soon as I got off the phone. I couldn't take another minute of John Smith, the "feeder" looking for an "eater." Unfortunately, he didn't answer, but I left a detailed message, and soon Joan called me back and told me to come over immediately.

I arrived at the hotel and entered the lobby. Thinking I was underdressed for the interview, I felt immediate relief when I saw Jane and Daniel. They were both dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts. I introduced myself, and they invited me to sit down. They asked typical questions about why I wanted the job and to expand more on my experience. I answered openly and honestly and provided my label friends as references. When the interview was over, they told me about the people they had interviewed before me, including one guy who bragged about sleeping on a rapper's floor the night before and how he was "tight" with talent. Another girl ordered several shots before she began the interview and then left Daniel and Jane with the tab. It was safe to say I had the job. They offered it to me later that day. So, my adventure continued. This time, I was all in.

Not all aspects of the job were glamorous. As an ADR (Artist Development Representative), the position consisted of creating displays in record stores (when they existed), positioning swag for people to take (postcards, pins, stickers, CD singles), and checking to make sure our newest releases were in stock. I spent most of my day climbing up ladders and hanging banners or crawling into storefront windows to create a poster display. The worst was after a show when we would have to stand at the doors and try to hand out swag. Unless we had pins, stickers, or CDs, we were ignored. You had to grow a thick skin in this industry and get used to rejection and being virtually invisible. After all, to most, we were only one step above the guest list.

If a band came to town, we would have meet-and-greets and in-store performances. Those were more fun, but they were either successful or bombed. I always felt bad for the bands that didn't have a stellar crowd at their events, but they always took it in stride and made the most of it. The blame typically falls on the ADR because they didn't promote the event well enough. We knew that it wasn't always us. Sometimes it had to do with what else was happening in the area that day, the popularity of the band, or even the weather. One in-store event with a band called Side Show at Tower Records in Boston nearly became a full-scale riot. The event was going to take place at 3 pm on a weekday. Promoted for over a month, and the turnout was fantastic. When I arrived, there was already a line stretching two blocks. I knew it was way past the capacity of the store. It was 3:10, and the band had still not arrived. Side Show's followers, the "Phreaks," got restless. They started to throw items at the large glass windows in the lobby of the three-story store, and the front of the line began to body slam the glass doors. We called their management company, who told us the band got stuck at the airport and they would be there in 15 minutes. The store manager got on a loudspeaker and told the crowd the band would be there soon, but they would have to cancel the event if people did not calm down. They seemed to settle, but the police showed up to ensure they stayed that way. The band was good to their word and arrived shortly after."