Rocky Mountain low, more
I am still reminiscing about these old times....
In the batch of British 45 records that my friend brought to Colorado directly from the scene in England was one of the Adverts 'Gary Gillmore's Eyes'. It was a song about someone who got a serial killer's eyes in a transplant and was a good song. But what electrified me was the sleeve with a photo of Gay Advert, the girl bass player. She had Egyptian eyeliner and looked totally cool. She looked sexy and dangerous and accomplished. In a minute I decided I wanted to be just like her. I realized that punk rock didn't just have to be for the boys.
You should never underestimate the importance of a role model.
The other thing I was thinking about was when my second band played around Colorado, we made money. We were usually opening up for a friend's band (unless we put on the gig ourselves) and perhaps the other bands were being unusually nice, but for a good evening we would get $300 or more. I think the headliner would get $500 or more, not sure. The headlining bands knew that if we were opening we and our friends would be there dancing down in front for their set as well. The bands got the door money or a lot of it. 200 people times $5 or so adds up.
There were bands in Colorado that made their living playing music. People went out to dance and the bands in Colorado had to be danceable. There were some really great country swing bands in every town around there who could really 'cook'. And I don't think most of the bands every left or became known outside the area.
Anyhow, later in San Francisco, for a large gig, a New Year's Eve or a headlining gig at Fab Mab or some club, we'd make $7 to be split 7 ways. Oh, maybe we would get $30. It was pathetic. Many of the shows were benefits. In San Francisco we had a sound girl and a lighting girl to pay too, plus a rehearsal studio. Usually the money just went towards repairing our van, or sometimes for recording expenses. The shows we played in Santa Cruz and Sacramento and maybe even Berkeley made decent money but San Francisco was the worst.
At the Palms the owner would ring up the bar tab at the end of the set to see how many drinks the band sold. At the Stone, the bands had to sell tickets ahead of time to be asked back.
In the batch of British 45 records that my friend brought to Colorado directly from the scene in England was one of the Adverts 'Gary Gillmore's Eyes'. It was a song about someone who got a serial killer's eyes in a transplant and was a good song. But what electrified me was the sleeve with a photo of Gay Advert, the girl bass player. She had Egyptian eyeliner and looked totally cool. She looked sexy and dangerous and accomplished. In a minute I decided I wanted to be just like her. I realized that punk rock didn't just have to be for the boys.
You should never underestimate the importance of a role model.
The other thing I was thinking about was when my second band played around Colorado, we made money. We were usually opening up for a friend's band (unless we put on the gig ourselves) and perhaps the other bands were being unusually nice, but for a good evening we would get $300 or more. I think the headliner would get $500 or more, not sure. The headlining bands knew that if we were opening we and our friends would be there dancing down in front for their set as well. The bands got the door money or a lot of it. 200 people times $5 or so adds up.
There were bands in Colorado that made their living playing music. People went out to dance and the bands in Colorado had to be danceable. There were some really great country swing bands in every town around there who could really 'cook'. And I don't think most of the bands every left or became known outside the area.
Anyhow, later in San Francisco, for a large gig, a New Year's Eve or a headlining gig at Fab Mab or some club, we'd make $7 to be split 7 ways. Oh, maybe we would get $30. It was pathetic. Many of the shows were benefits. In San Francisco we had a sound girl and a lighting girl to pay too, plus a rehearsal studio. Usually the money just went towards repairing our van, or sometimes for recording expenses. The shows we played in Santa Cruz and Sacramento and maybe even Berkeley made decent money but San Francisco was the worst.
At the Palms the owner would ring up the bar tab at the end of the set to see how many drinks the band sold. At the Stone, the bands had to sell tickets ahead of time to be asked back.
Labels: Adverts, Fab Mab, Gay Advert, profalactics, rocky mountain low, the Varve
posted by Carolyn Crampton at
8:59 PM
1 Comments:
Hi Carolyn,
Enjoying your blog. I remember you from The Varve. I took a photo or two on the back cover of Bamboo Curtain. Today I am trying really hard to assign venue names and "year shot" to photos for a project I am working on. If you look at tose photos on the record cover would you be able to answer??? :-)
Said photos are also here:
http://eclypso.com
under "SF Punk & New Wave"
catharine
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