bryanbellerdotcom

Column #2: Touring “Over There”
Published October, 1999

People used to wonder why a young man or woman would choose the life of a professional musician over that of a doctor or lawyer. Now they wonder why a young Gen-Xer doesn’t opt for the lifestyle of a highly paid Web designer or computer consultant over the tough road of playing bass for a living. There are lots of answers, but only one relevant to this column: They don’t pay computer geeks to fly to Europe and perform their duties in front of a crowd of screaming fans in, say, Bordeaux, where some of the local wine (you may have heard of it) is chilled and waiting backstage.

Touring is the most romantic of all musical term jobs: traveling for free, seeing places you’ve never been, playing every night, and meeting people under the best circumstances (those being your special status as a badge-wearing band member). If you can handle the pace, there’s nothing like it. But touring in America is one thing. Touring Europe is quite another.

I was recently lucky enough to do a five-week Euro tour with former MC5 guitarist Wayne Kramer. I learned a lot about what to do, what not to do, and how to make such a trip successful in music, business, and pleasure.

Gear. Before leaving, prepare your equipment to the nth degree for travel. This includes loosening bass strings before flying, as some pieces of wood don’t react well to being 30,000 feet high for 11 hours with tension on the neck. If you’re bringing other gear with you (especially amps), pack it as if it were heading to the Samsonite Gorilla Testing Facility--basically, it is. Non-shock-mounted rack cases will make you very unhappy upon arrival.

Communicate with the tour manager beforehand. (This will be a recurring theme.) If the tour won’t help you pay for bringing your favorite rig, chances are you’ll have to procure a backline in Europe. If you have an endorsement, will Company X get you a rig for that festival in Belgium? If you can’t get the itinerary from the tour manager at least four weeks ahead of time, the answer is probably no, even if you have an endorsement. If you don’t and you can’t fly your gear, you are at the tour manager’s mercy. Be very nice to him when you ask for specific gear, and remember he’s probably working within a budget that won’t allow for your six-cabinet/ten-rackspace configuration, to say nothing of how that setup would fit in the 15-year-old Mercedes van you’ll be traveling in.

Voltage. U.S. electricity operates at 120 volts/60Hz, Western Europe at 240 volts/50Hz. They use a funny plug about the size of a baseball. England (as it always does) insists on being different from the rest of Europe and uses a softball-size plug. If you’re bringing a 120-volt pedalboard to use with a 240-volt rented backline, will there be a step-down transformer so your pedals don’t burst into flames in London? Does your 120-volt amp operate at 50Hz without going into ground-loop hell? The tour manager should know all this and more, so ask before you leave. I recommend bringing the following items if you can find them: an English-to-Euro converter, Euro-to-English converter, U.S.-to-Euro converter, US three-prong to US two-prong converter, and the Eb-Tech Hum Eliminator for ground-loop problems. If you’re using a 120-volt electric shaver, Radio Shack has a tiny step-down transformer that will keep you from looking like Charles Manson no matter how primitive the hotel you’re staying in.

Culture & recreation. Don’t wear T-shirts with American flags on them. I made this mistake in Sweden (hardly a hotbed of anti-American sentiment), where I donned a Mike Keneally T-shirt adorned with stars, stripes, and dolphins. The dirty looks I got were enough to make me run back to my hotel room and change. Good thing I didn’t try that in France.

Be careful with the beer. It’s better and stronger over there. Long rides on the Autobahn are significantly less pleasant with a hangover. Also, as a rule of thumb, never go pint-for-pint with the drum tech.

Stay healthy. Try to get some exercise. Five weeks of bread and cheese (the European equivalent of the backstage deli tray) will trash your digestive system something fierce. There are certain places where you should not eat at all--you’ll know them when you see them. On the positive side you can drink plenty of excellent European coffee, which makes American coffee seem like cod liver oil.

If you’re planning on frequenting a red-light district, take a roadie with you. Preferably the biggest roadie. Chances are he’s been there before, and he may even keep you from contracting a disease or getting killed, which would severely hamper your ability to make the following night’s gig.

If you have an English road crew (and if you have one at all they’ll probably be English), do not bring up the subject of the English monarchy. You’ll be privy to a screaming debate containing curses they don’t even use in South Park.

Common sense. Spend your money wisely. Keep track of exchange rates. Your Spanish pesetas and Italian lire will go a lot further than your Swiss francs and Norwegian kroners. Your salary and per diem will arrive in different-colored Monopoly money every week. Bring a calculator, and when in doubt, ask the tour manager--he’s collecting the band’s gate receipts in Monopoly money every night.

Keep your cool. Crazy things will happen, like a French TV cameraman kicking out your bass rig’s power cord during a live performance on the French equivalent of The Tonight Show, or having to stand outside in the freezing cold while the Danish border patrol with drug-sniffing dogs search the van to make sure you’re not smuggling cocaine. The more level-headed you are, the more respect you’ll get from the artist you’re working for, the crew, and the tour manager, whose job is to deal with the unexpected in a professional manner. (Even if they’re using curses you’ve never heard before while they do it.)

Last, remember why you’re there: to play bass. No matter what you do in your time off, and no matter how crazy the schedule and culture, as long as you do what you need to do to play the gig well every night, you’ll emerge a more rounded musician and person for it. A European tour is one of the ultimate payoffs you can get as a working bassist, so if the opportunity arises, don’t dare pass it up.

And don’t forget to bring a camera.

* * * * *

An addendum: No one was more pleased than me when Bass Player received this scathing Letter to The Editor, which ran in their January, 2000 issue: