(my band - Tattletale Saints)
Even as I was arguing the point, deep down I knew she was right.
Mum: How will you measure if the album release is successful?
Me: Umm… by whether people like it or not?
Mum: What else?
Me: By how many good reviews it gets?
Mum: Yes, but financially what will demonstrate success?
Me (getting defensive): It’s hard to measure success financially because CD sales are basically non-existent now, so really you release an album to get press and generate interest from labels and managers - things that are valuable but not financially quantifiable.
Mum (stifling an exasperated sigh): OK… but if you’re treating the band like a business you need to have a plan for income so you can measure profitability and make sure you’re covering your expenses.
Me (with the tone of a whiny teenage): That’s not how running a band works….you just don’t understand the music industry!
Mum was using her decades of experience in the corporate world to help my bandmate and me put together a business plan for our band, and the deeper we got into it, the more uncomfortable I felt.
She had financial questions I didn’t have answers for at every turn. I was doggedly dancing around it, but the truth was becoming obvious.
For the whole lifetime of the band, we’d barely broken even.
We’d had amazing experiences, traveled all over the world, and it was an extraordinary life of creativity and fun. But it had never been a financial success.
Trying to write this business plan was shining a spotlight into the darkest, grimiest, corner of the business that I had been steadfastly ignoring for years: our band was a financial failure.
The fact is, most indie bands are failing from a business perspective. Musicians are just really good at putting our heads in the sand about it.
Can you imagine if someone opened a traditional retail shop, lost money every year for 5 years, and just… kept turning up each day, shelling out more money for stock, paying rent on the building, and selling products at a loss? It just wouldn’t happen.
With music, though, we barely pause to even consider the overall finances and whether what we’re doing is making sense, because we’re so driven by the passion to create our art and share it with the world.
And that passion and drive is a wonderful thing!
A life lived doing something you love is a great privilege, but not acknowledging the financial side of the business doesn’t mean the bills stop coming, it just means you’re delaying the inevitable reality check when one day you stop being able to beg, borrow or steal (hopefully not actual stealing) to take care of your basic human needs like food and shelter.
The fact is, it’s becoming harder and harder to make a living from performing.
Ted Gioia writes about the disappearing musical middle class in this interesting piece and anecdotally if you look around the musicians you know, the ones who are surviving (please note I said surviving, not even talking about thriving here) financially typically have one of these support systems in place:
• family money
• a partner/spouse with a “real job”
That doesn’t mean to say it’s impossible to have a life as a performing musician, it just means to do so you need to either have one of those support systems in place.
Or find a patron.
The etymology of the word patron is from Old French patron (“patron, protector”), from Latin patrōnus, from pater (“father”). The modern use is based on the concept of how a father is supposed to financially support his kids. A patron of the arts is someone who shows their appreciation or support for the arts by donating money to arts organizations.
In centuries past, composers were usually employed by the church or for a royal court, writing music for the aristocracy and receiving a salary in return.
Wealthy people nowadays give money to arts organizations, orchestras, music schools, or individuals because they want to support the creation of music (and sometimes for the bragging rights).
The first step is accepting that you can’t live with your head in the sand anymore, and then you just need to choose the option that suits you best:
Option 1: be your own sugar momma (or daddy)
One of the best feelings about making money playing bass for other people is when I can then turn around and invest it in my band. I work as a session player as my “day job” and I now view my own band as a creative outlet. I still strive to make it financially viable, but it’s something I’m happy to spend money on because I enjoy doing the musical experience so much. Having a non-music day job, a side hustle, or creating an alternate source of income within the music industry is a great way to become your own sugar momma (aka patron).
Option 2: find a sugar momma (or daddy)
If you have a partner who makes bank and is willing to support your creative endeavors as your patron, awesome! So long as they’re happy about it and you’re giving to the relationship in other ways this can work out fine. Do make sure to keep the lines of communication open to avoid any growing resentment over the financial imbalance in your partnership, though.
Option 3: crowdsource your patronage
Websites like Patreon exist for this very reason, to allow people to support the creators they love in doing their work and to allow creators to make a living from smaller contributions coming from a larger pool of people. The best way to approach this option is to think about the value you can offer your patrons that is relatively easy for you to provide each month but offers them something extra to encourage their continued support. Usually, this is best achieved through access. Deeper access to you (even a small amount) is something most fans are happy to pay for. Let your patrons ask questions, or give them a behind-the-scenes glimpse that is only available to them. Make it worth their while and they’ll be happy to support your creativity.
The word patronize means to financially support something, to frequent an establishment, OR to talk down or condescend to someone. It’s this third definition that can be the biggest emotional hurdle when seeking support for our music.
There can be a feeling of unworthiness or shame when you ask people to pay to support your work. You might feel that if you were good enough, or what you were making was brilliant enough, you wouldn’t need to ask.
But the fact is, music has been supported by people with wealth for centuries. Societies have long acknowledged that music and art were an important part of a flourishing community, and musicians were paid to create it for them.
In many progressive countries, governments have arts grants set up to support the creation of new music and the continued careers of artists.
It comes down to this: you need money to survive (and hopefully even thrive) and there are lots of different ways to get it. Performance alone has simply stopped being an option for most of us.
Financial freedom AND creative expression are possible, you just need to take your head out of the sand and pick the path that suits you best.
I appreciate your input on the subject matter of financial security and how to achieve it as a musician.
I have to admit that any small royalty check, cd or merch sale means a lot to me. Not so much the monetary value, but the fact that I made it 100% with my music. I almost wanted to frame my first month’s check from teaching piano in Nashville when I stopped waitressing a couple years ago. Lol!
Although I am blessed to make most of my money in the summer when I run my family’s restaurant….. I still doubt my worth as a musician during that time.
It’s unfortunate we question our worth and value as musicians to such an extreme vs other people in different professions.
Thank you for sharing and making us feel a little less alone in the struggle.
Happy to see you've set up subscriptions, Vanessa!