Press Kit-ty

If you want to play professionally, or to look at pictures of yourself because, like most musicians, you have an ego so enormous that it eclipses the sun...then you will want to assemble a press kit.

I wanted both of these things, so over the years I have assembled a ridiculous number of photographs. Some of them are actually photographs of me. The photograph above was one that a friend took for the specific purpose of self-promotion. I have received a lot of attention for this picture, mostly because people really like the bed that looks like it was chewed by beavers.

Anyway, you should also include a basic biography that makes you sound really cool. You know, stuff that sounds really adventurous and dramatic. "Born above the Arctic Circle to a poor sharecropper family, Dawn took her very name from the midnight sun..." Yada, yada, yada.

Then, you will also want to include a basic synopsis of your musical experiences. You don't have to list EVERY gig you've ever played, (unless you have only played one). For instance, I no longer find it necessary to include the "Payday Advance Loans and Billiards Hall Grand Opening Celebration" (where I totally kicked ass). but I do try to list a good variety of pub, coffee-shop, event, and fundraiser gigs. You want to project versatility, professionalism, and experience. My aim is to totally fool them.

It's also a good idea to include pictures of yourself playing in some of these venues, so be sure to have somebody snap a few for you. Preferably ones where you look halfway decent. I always seem to end up with ones where my eyes were crossed, or I was making duck lips (see below)

Maybe that's just how I always look.

Anyway, do that.

Another thing you should do is to assemble a few of these photos into some kind of groovy graphic design-and make fliers that the venue can use to advertise you. Promotional materials are a win/win...you want people to come see you, the venue wants business. Leave the fields blank so you can just re-use the "master copy" at different gigs. It also makes it easy, and inexpensive, for the venue to copy and personalize. II am a computer bonehead, and it took me 32 years, and several frustrated friends, to finally get a flier done. Here are a few ideas:

Anyhow...you get the idea...

And if you have original music, like I do (insert shameless plug here), make sure you include a sample with your press kit. You can also include a sample set list, or some lyric pages for your songs. If you play a wide variety of music, you can also include some set list tailor made for different venues. I try to send a different sample set list if I am going to play a cowboy bar, than the one I might send to the lesbian music festival.

Just saying.

My forever girl

This here's Charlene.

Ain't she pretty?

I found Charlene in Oklahoma City. I found her in a pawn shop, which-if you know guitars at all-I highly recommend as an avenue for shopping for instruments. You just never know what you'll find.

When I found Charlene, I was searching for my "forever guitar"...because a few months earlier my previous "forever guitar" had been lost by an airline. It was my Takamine...one of the nicest guitars I had ever played, with onboard electronics that just couldn't be beat. I was also partial to it because, when I bought it, the neck at some point had been completely severed. This is usually not a good sign for a guitar, as one without a neck is...well...really short. But, in addition to that, it would be pretty unlikely that a decent repair could be made after an injury like that. There is a lot of tension on the neck, it has to be adjusted just right for intonation. Even on guitars with perfectly intact necks, once things get out of adjustment, it takes someone with knowledge to get it back in balance, without intonation issues, fret buzz, messed up action, migraine headaches...

Ok. I made that last one up. I just started to think I was sounding like an ad for a chiropractor.

Anyway, somehow, this guitar was perfect, even with the broken neck. It played like a dream. And, to me, it's injury just gave it character.

What happened to my Takamine is still a mystery, but I can tell you that my first mistake was checking it with my luggage. I didn't realize at the time that you didn't have to check musical instruments, and I pretty much knew it wouldn't fir in an overhead compartment. So, I checked it, and had my name and address tags all over that sucker.

My second mistake, I am guessing, was not placing it in a generic guitar case-but leaving it in it's lesbian, feminist, rainbow, pink triangle, peace sign, vegan, hemp loving, leaping liberals sticker collection covered case-and then flying into the deep south. I mean, one of the bumper stickers on the case read, "Sorry I missed church. I was busy practicing withcraft and becoming a lesbian."

I'm not into victim blaming, by any means. But, I think my guitar might have been asking for it. Just by the way it was dressed.

Needless to say, my guitar never arrived in Belt Buckle, Georgia. Or Antler, Arkansas. Or wherever the hell I was going.

I filed my loss report, and they spent a few months (hahahahaha) "looking" for it. Finally, they issued me a check for $800.00. I went guitar hunting in Oklahoma City, totally prepared to spend about $1200.00 to find my therapist, my best friend, my companion, my sanity, my perfect forever guitar.

The very first pawn shop I walked into had this beautiful thing hanging on the wall. I noticed her right away, and asked to play her. The brand is a Dean, which I had heard of only because of the awesome electric Dean Warlock. I didn't even know that Dean made acoustics. Oh, but they do!

I fell in love INSTANTLY. First guitar I tried....it was meant to be. I plugged her in, and WOW! The electronics were wonderful. Full EQ, on-board tuner, great, mellow and full acoustic sound, great response. The action is glorious. And the piece of wood on her face has the most BEAUTIFUL patterns. It's just a solid piece of wood, not painted, but the grain is incredible. I just LOVE this guitar!

So, that is the story of Charlene, my forever guitar. I will never, ever, EVER check her with luggage again. Oh, and I am often asked, why did I name her 'Charlene'...and I have no idea. It just seemed to fit. 'Ralph' was a close second, but I like Charlene much better.

Suffering for my art like a true dufus...

So, I played guitar for about twelve hours straight through. I was playing with another guitarist, which is a rare treat. We were "in the zone"...which, as any guitarist understands, is a state of being that renders one nearly powerless to put the guitar down.

The problem did not arise because I played for twelve hours. No, It arose because I played for twelve hours after having NOT played for nearly two months. My fingers were defenseless. I had completely lost my callouses.

Not playing for two months? How could it be? I had traveled to northern California on a trip I had expected would only take about two weeks. I had chosen to leave behind Charlene (my guitar) because traveling with her is always a risk, and I just really didn't expect I would have much opportunity to play.

I ended up staying for two months. Guitarless. Without my guitar. No guitar in sight. Unable to play. Total guitar deficit.

When the opportunity arose to sit down for an extended session with my guitarist friend, and to borrow his beautifully balanced Ovation, I jumped at the chance. And...when my fingers started to sting? I ignored it.

We were collaborating, and the music was taking on a life of it's own. So, when my fingers started to feel like they were actually on fire? I ignored it, and played through the pain. Soon enough they would numb again.

He had plugged us in through both his Vampire amp/effects processor, and his Carvell cabinet. The sounds we were making were heavenly, and different, and we were in a co-creative, collaborative groove. It was if the muses themselves were whispering directly into our ears. It was magical. Wyndham Hill would have loved what we were coming up with. I'm serious. I almost lit candles and took a bubble bath, we were so ON.

So, when my fingers turned white, and felt as if I had dipped them in a deep fryer? I ignored that.

 And when I finally, reluctantly, set the guitar down for the night (because it was morning and time to eat waffles)...well...I kind of knew I might have overdone it a bit. It wasn't until I had taken a nap, and woke up to my fingertips looking like E.T. that I understood how MUCH I had overdone it.

My fingers were blistered, and squishy...little water balloons on the ends. They were yucky, and weird, and scared small children, My guitarist friend was impressed (and a little worried). That prompted me to show off my hard earned guitar injury.

I couldn't play for a week, as I dared not risk popping them and possibly getting an infection. One morning I woke up, and the biggest blister had turned into the most amazing robo-callouse I had ever seen! It was SO thick that the guitar string created a groove in it, and it actually got in the way. Then, as suddenly as the callouse had appeared, the entire thing just came off. And my poor fingers were once again defenseless.

So...unless you want a really cool guitar related injury that you can photograph, brag about (LOOK HOW DEDICATED I AM), and alarm your loved ones with (OH MY GOD YOU'RE GOING TO DIE! CAN I POP IT?), don't be a total dufus, like I was. Don't you DARE go two months without playing guitar.

I mean, REALLY!