One Step Above Guest List

The Encore

The tour was over, and I went back to Boston to help promote new albums, hang up displays and count inventory. I had a few in-store performances come through, a meet-and-greet or two, and then an event that changed everything. It was with Just Human, who Suncoast Records signed after they dropped Rising Moon Records, with whom they couldn't agree on contract terms. I tried not to be judgmental, but I had heard from Crystal at Rising Moon that working with Just Human was next to impossible. "Rude, demanding, disrespectful, womanizing assholes," I think she called them. I tried to push the thought out of my mind but prepared myself for the worst anyway. Not to mention the lead singer was a joke. He A. lipsink all of his songs, and B. even though he was lipsinking, he couldn't remember the words to lipsink to, so he had to have a teleprompter in the front of the stage every night, and the lead guitarist wore a backpack that carried a machine to play a backing track because he sucked so bad at playing on his own.

The meet-and-greets were set. There was a large crowd because it was so well-marketed (thank you very much). The band was already an hour late for the event because they wanted to stop at the mall to shop. When they arrived at the record store, the clam chowder they had requested (which was hot when they were due to arrive) was cold. I offered to heat it for them in the store's employee lounge microwave, but they scoffed at me and told me to get a new "fucking batch."

Remember when I told you I refused to take shit anymore? This was one of those times. I told them no, and I'll never forget the look on their faces. My coworker, Liz, jumped out of her chair and told them she would handle it. It was pouring that day. There were no cabs, and the store was nowhere near a T Station, so she walked four blocks to and from the Chowder house. When she arrived back, the band told her they didn't have time to eat as it was so late. Of course, they laughed at her sopping wet clothes and hair.

During the meet-and-greet, they refused to let fans take photos too close up, so I did what I could to take pictures of fans getting things signed by the band from 10 feet away. They didn't speak to anyone but each other and the occasional attractive girl, which they would point out to their tour manager, who would promptly get their phone numbers and an occasional headshot.

It was that day that it all came together for me. I had positive experiences in the music industry, but the bad experiences were starting to add up. Of course, there were other changes too. Downloading and iPods led to the death of music retail. I watched as some of my favorite stores started to slowly close or change over from music sales to clothing, gifts, and collectibles. Bands were starting to be dropped as labels thinned out underperforming artists, and some of the summer festivals faded away or had limited tour dates. Ruby Riot left Suncoast Records for another label that gave them more creative control. I texted D a few times about the changes, but our conversations would be left lingering in cyberspace, and eventually, I gave up trying to reach him. I was told he spoke about me to bands he knew would be coming into town. He occasionally liked and commented on my social media posts, but that was all. Since Ruby Riot was recording a new album, I didn't see or hear much about D for over a year.

A friend of mine, Alex, worked for a PR firm and said they were looking for someone to handle their marketing in the Boston market. With all the changes in the industry and the fact that I was paid so little I would put groceries on band riders, I decided that it was time to take the leap and leave the label. It was the hardest decision I ever made, but it was the best decision for me at the time.

I spent less than six months at the new job. Although I traveled to different cities in the US and Europe, the woman I worked for was a nut job. She cheated on her husband constantly and was loud and obnoxious. When she found out I wouldn't be coming to work because a family member was on life support, she said, "Well, that's too bad, but what are you going to do for me today?" Reminiscent of some of the spoiled brats I supported at the label, I decided it was best to leave before I caused her bodily harm. I had a couple of jobs after that, but nothing that brought me joy. That's when I decided to open a small creative space for bands and artists in my hometown of Gloucester.