Roadie Tale

Phil’s latest tour was short and sweet. He played four gigs up and down the East Coast grabbing

a few new fans at each stop, and left them wanting more. I was along for the ride, and while he

started out jokingly calling me his roadie, I felt by the end I’d earned the title. I also got a glimpse into the life of a musician on the circuit, at once lonely and full of personal connections.

The first stop was Burlington, VT, where Phil played a set at the sister venue of Nectars MV, the largest venue on his native Martha’s Vineyard. At Nectars Burlington, Phil played a set for an enthusiastic crowd, and I performed my assigned task of handing out “free download” cards to the audience. Not naturally relaxed at the prospect of approaching strangers, I downed a couple drinks and started making my rounds. People were surprisingly receptive to my overtures-- especially the guy who made me “friend” a girl he knew on facebook, (he watched me while I searched for her on my phone) because she “looked just like me”. I learned that giving things away for free (especially if they’re good), is a pretty solid marketing strategy. After the gig, I watched Phil networking with other performers, exchanging venue ideas and CDs. Phil, unlike me, is naturally outgoing, and the more I learn about the music industry, the more I see this as an essential quality.

We followed the set with a walk along the wide brick artery that runs centrally through the shops and restaurants in downtown Burlington, looking at the beautifully lit trees, and ended the evening with a late-night meal of noodles and tea. Exhausted, I flopped onto my half of our couch, wondering how tired Phil must be, having actually PERFORMED. And yet, I had noticed that Phil seemed to gain energy from performing, another mysterious quality to me, and one I deemed handy for a career performer.

The next stop was the Rockwood Music Hall in New York City. This place is a gem. A sweet cafe and bar, they host live musicians all afternoon and evening, in an atmosphere of dimly-lit, dark wood ambiance. We arrived early, in time to hear the previous performer, a woman whose funny and moving original piano ballads complemented Phil’s upcoming set nicely simply through contrast. Phil was a success, as he played beautifully and sang without a hitch despite his lingering scratchy throat. It’s one of those things you don’t think of if you’re not a performer yourself, at least I never did. What do you do if you have a long-booked gig, and then you get sick? If you’re like Phil, you sing right through it and nobody notices.

One of Phil’s devoted fans, Tara Rossi from New Jersey, came out to see him play, and Phil was touched. I got a better understanding that night, when Phil told me later how much it meant to him that she’d come, as to the importance of fans in the hearts of performers.

The Parkington Sisters followed Phil’s set, which was a coincidence since they were from the Cape and Phil had met one of them over the summer. This serendipity led of course to more friendly networking, while I waited patiently with 3 bags and a guitar over my shoulder.

In Philadelphia, we had the pleasure of staying in the new home of Phil’s family friends while they were away. Their house was beautiful (much fancier than anything I’d expected while on tour with an indie musician), and we were spoiled. Neither Phil nor I had ever been to Philly, and while we made several site-seeing and food excursions during our stay, we spent an equal amount of time in front of the flat screen TV.

Phil’s gig in Philly was at a place called The Fire. A grungy but hip bar and club, The Fire had a nice sound system and Phil had this set recorded by the studio upstairs, and has since released the album “Live at The Fire”. Click HERE to hear it.

Before the gig, we had dinner at a quiet Mexican restaurant next door, and took the opportunity to map out some of Phil’s goals. I realized that as a musician, even a small tour marks the end of a career chapter. For Phil, his next chapter consists of making new songs, and as I write this he’s sitting across from me with his headphones on, creating new music ideas and honing them. There’s a balance to be struck between writing, performing, booking shows, marketing, and living (and if you’re Phil, add producing and recording to that list... not just his own music, but others’ too). It might seem effortless from the outside, but it takes planning, and sometimes that has to happen whenever it can, even right before a show, over chips and salsa.

The final stop was Baltimore, another town neither of us had been to. In our motel room Phil, ever motivated, set up his keyboard and music program on the desk beside the bed, and worked on learning the ins and outs of his new program. He also edited and posted several of the live Philadelphia tracks to his website. I fell asleep, dreaming in synthetic drum beats.

Phil’s show at Joe Squared was a perfect ending to the quartet of gigs. He got a wonderful crowd response, and his vintage merch suitcase was dipped into more than a few times over the course of the night. As I ate the best Pizza of my life, I watched Phil light up from the especially good vibes the crowd was giving, and I got a glimpse of the true reason he makes music. Don’t get me wrong, Phil can smile and belt it out to just about any kind of crowd, and perhaps its just that I know him well, but I saw an extra glint of joie de vivre in his eye that night. I think to him, you fans are truly his inspiration. And as for me, I learned I’ll never, ever be the kind of person who could make it as a musician, and yet, it was an honor to travel next to one for a while... one who I can tell has got what it takes.

- Ann