Awwwwww damn, the Beard of Truth is back.
What inappropriate but sincere things are gonna get said today?
"Dear Harry, can you elaborate on the financials of your drumming life?"
Wellllllll I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole.
[a bunch of people asking similar questions] Hmm.
It seems the world is sincerely curious about the utterly taboo subject of how many cents
and possibly dollars we professional musicians
and drummers
get paid to do what we do.
My brain is telling me not to do this but the beard of truth is saying, "YESSSS DOOOOD"
Ladies and Dudelmen, for better or probably for worse, here in painstaking detail are
the financials of my life as a professional drummer.
This is DudeThoughts: The Financial Life of a Side Musician, Dude
BUT BEFORE I SAY ANYTHING OF ACTUAL MEANING, AS ALWAYS, mmmmmmmmDUDESCLAIMERS
Firstly, I'm here to speak for MY finances.
Just.
Myself.
See I dare not jeopardize the trust of any past or future artist whose people send my
people unmarked envelopes of secret numbers written on secret papers in exchange for my
noisemaking, and going anywhere close to singleing out the finances of any particular one of
'em stands to undermine that trust, thus putting me in a standing I couldn't stand,
understand?
But luckily now's a great time for me to address the question because I've played
with such a wide smattering of artists here lately that it will be impossible for you
to infer the specific finances of any them, which I dig.
And lastly, even speaking purely for myself, I wanna say I do realize that everyone I've
ever met who knows what's up with money has made it clear that whatever you do, you
DON'T talk about how much money you make.
Perhaps I should respect it.
Wait.
Heck It.
I'm sorry Dave Ramsey, Benjamin Franklin, and Mom, but, at the moment of this filming,
I don't currently have the foresight to understand why it's so important to be secretive
about how much money I make, and luckily for those of you dudes asking, I'd like to instantly
turn that shortsightedness into an irreparable mistake by uploading to it to the internet
for your edification.
And it's not that I'm not scared, alright?
But why?
Why is this so frightening to talk about, even having guaranteed the anonymity of the
folks who hire me?
Like, am I afraid it'll turn out I make less than minimum wage, and do I feel insecure
about what that says about my value as a human being?
Or conversely, what if I make more than a schoolteacher without contributing in any
way whatsoever to the well being or progress of human kind?
Actually, maybe those aren't mutually exclusive now that I'm thinking about how little we
choose to pay our teachers here, damn you beard of truth.
But if I have one feeling that outweighs the fear it's gratitude that you reward me every
time I swallow that fear and speak my truth on the YouTubes.
So I guess we're dudin' this.
Enough foreplay; let us finally begin the penny-for-penny breakdown of the last 5 years
of my professional drumming life.
And I know "penny" is ordinarily a colloquialism but then again I said "drumming" so I
probably mean "penny" in the literal sense but we'll just have to see in a minute here
when I count all "six of 'em".
Oops.
OK Dudes.
Start your…spreadsheets.
My first true full time sideman gig payed $175 per show, $0 per rehearsal, and $0 per
travel day.
That was so much more money than I had ever heard of from playing local clubs in Boston
that I was willing to quit my job repairing computers and straight up move into the cheapest
Nashville basement I could find in July of 2013 to take the gig.
Bonus points of course for the little bit of savings I was lucky to have from years
of sacking groceries and waiting tables and saving those tips.
I even saved my uniform in case I gotta go back… which feels constantly possible.
Then again they fired me three times so drumming is probably my only option at this point.
Here's a tip I saved from my time at Jonny Rocket's.
This is an actual tip I received which says, "Here's a tip: you need to work on that
smart ass attitude."
Oh yeah lady well the JERK STORE
So accounting for the other tangential road gigs and church gigs and corporate gigs and
recording sessions the first gig led to which payed anywhere from 50 to $150 a pop, I made
37 appearances that year which grossed me an almighty then $5,470.
It's the richest I ever felt.
And do keep in mind as you consider these numbers that I'm strictly talking figures
I actually accepted, not the ones I'd call, maybe, maybe not lowball, but you know, the
"We can only pay you guys $25 each and we expect two rehearsals, but important people's
assistants are going to be here and we promise a record deal will come of it.
Not that your name will be on the deal, but hey, you'll be able to say you knew a guy
who had a deal one time and that's gonna sound pretty good on your Facebook Gig Finder
resume #ProGear #ProAttitude #ProHang"
So onward I forayed into the next year, not sure where my next gigs would come from, but
inspired by this very real taste I'd gotten that I could actually make a nice living from
drum hooliganism, and here are the numbers.
2014, I played 104 shows with no major changes in the stature of the gig and recorded in
6 sessions, generating a total of $15,551, with a mean pay of $141 and a median $150
which was also the mode by a landslide, lowest payout was 30 bucks in town, highest payout
was $300 on the road with $30 per hour of rehearsal, holy shnikees they paid us for
rehearsal and I felt like a real boy Gepetto…Dudepetto!
On top of all this I moved into a house with 6 people already living in it for an even
better deal than the ol' leaky basement, not to mention how much more free catering
I got to eat on account of gigging more.
And by catering I mean Doritos.
Sometimes barbecue.
Mainly Doritos.
On to the next year.
I got my first major label gig and started playing on records.
Prepare to be crushed by these ballin' numbers.
Nevermind I still made $150 dollars a gig.
But the catering was much nicer…barbecue.
So for 2015 that's 158 shows and 13 sessions, raking in a total of 18,070 dudelars, mean
105, median 150, mode 150, low tips only, high 300.
2016, fired from said major label gig, hired onto different major label gig, record deal
folds, gig ends, hired onto different major label gig, record deal folds again, cobble
it all together for 138 shows and 14 sessions, 27,290 total dollars holy dudeness I exceeded
my grocery sacking record, mean 180, median 150, mode 150, low 125, high 450.
2017, audition, no dice, audition, no dice, audition, got it, "writing break", gig
ends, audition, got it, that gig ends, auditon, no dice, audition, got it, total income Five
dollars after psychiatric bills.
Hey dude really though I'm just kidding about the therapy expenses.
I mainly just laid on the floor in the fetal position.
It's free you know.
So that's 101 shows out plus 32 sessions, 32,115 total green papers of arbitrary value,
mean 241, median 350, mode 450, high 450.
Oh, hang on, let me click this….BOOM make it 32,115 and three quarters of a penny.
See what I haven't brought up 'till now is that on top of all the drumming money,
I command massive YouTube advertising dollars from videos like "Dude, What If I Don't
Want to Play Cajon", where apparently cajons sell like hotcakes look at this, it's like
Natty Ice ads on a video about sobriety.
I don't know what the ad rates break down to but in the interest of transparency here
you go, looks like about a grand for a year of videos.
I should also acknowledge the generous game changing dough I receive from my PatreoDudes
over at Patreon, without whom - I kid you not - these videos would not be possible.
Or at least by now I probably would've said yes to some of these doofus head marketing
dudes who keep offering me money to peddle their doofus head products instead of talking
about the real stuff, like Tostitos.
But - you can come to your own conclusions on whether those things weigh into what we're
actually talking about since I use ads and Patreodough exclusively for video-related
expenses like lights and cameras and action.
Action?
All of which brings us to now, when you might be thinking, "Man, harry dude finally broke
the poverty line - he's richer than ever!"
But now that you've seen the hard numbers let me tell you why I've felt less and less
rich every year, and what I think the true financials of the sideman life actually are.
When I first moved to Nashville, I owned one set of drums and cymbals, a couple of t shirts,
a pair of jeans and shoes, a backpack, a laptop, a camera, and a mattress on the floor.
And when I think back on it it actually feels like the richest, purest life I ever lived.
But every female in my life who saw the mattress on the floor insisted that the mattress on
the floor is barbaric, it's childish, don't you know real grownups have beds for their
mattresses?
And by caving to these constant exchanges and buying a bed for better or worse I ended
up learning a lot about the drums in hindsight.
'Cause on the surface maybe the transaction just feels like I simply gave up some money
and got a bed.
But buying a bed means I also gotta buy a box spring.
Then I gotta spend my time assembling the bed.
But the alan wrench thingy is missing so I gotta call the thingy and wait on hold so
they can send me the other thingy.
I ended up realizing though, the worst ripoff of the entire transaction is that I bought
into other peoples' idea that having this material crap is going to help me live the
life I want to live.
And that, my dudes, is a cost that keeps on costing.
So maybe I have made more and more money every year for the last 5 years.
But don't let that fool you into thinking I wasn't a more successful drummer 5 years
ago than I am right now.
In other words I think there's a more rational explanation for "financial success on the
drums" than just the income column on this spreadsheet, and here's what I think it
is.
That's right, if I had to pick one reason I've experienced any success on the drums….
it's luck.
Mountains and mountains of dudesgustingly undeserved luck.
But.
If I had to pick another reason it would be
LUCK holy hell it's seriously like I won the drumming lottery and please don't ever
let me take an ounce of the credit that really belongs to the gods... or whoever you worship.
But.
If I had to pick the next reason down the list it would be you, for watching my videos.
Not a joke.
But beyond all those reasons, number 4 very well might be that I don't drink coffee,
I don't drink alcohol, I don't do drugs.
I never payed more than 500 bucks rent to live in moldy basements, and if I could walk
to where I was going I walked and if I got tired of walking I'd run.
I ate these 97 cent bags of frozen vegetables every day in town 'till I finally splurged
and started adding crushed red pepper which brought my per-meal cost up to 99 cents, and
when I burned out on frozen vegetables I'd just skip a meal 'till frozen vegetables
inevitably sounded appetizing again.
I chose not to have health insurance for my first four years here.
Not proud of that one.
I try not to buy more guitars than I can afford, or more college education than I can afford.
I don't replace this 5 year old still functioning phone no matter how many cameras they stick
in the new one.
I don't buy shoes because these are only 15 years old and as a bonus can kill small
to medium sized house rodents.
Speaking of which, I don't have kids; in fact I have no family for hundreds of miles
in any direction so I'm basically a perma-adolescent with no responsibility.
And I don't buy clothes because I wear the same thing every day - do you feel where I'm
going with all this dudes?
In other words, to be a musician
(drummer)
It's like I try and take the vows of a Monk.
Well, the the poverty vows anyway, maybe not the celibacy vows.
That's right ladies, but in keeping with this video, we're splitting the bill.
At Carl's Jr.
What's that?
My beard makes me look like gooch what?
Great see that, I just saved even more money.
The obvious point of all this is that, yeah, I do make less than minimum wage, but I'm
also paid in lifestyle dividends that afford me an existence which doesn't revolve around
dough anyway, where maybe the real currency is the friends I make and the places I see
and the UNREAL musical sounds I hear both amazing and horrible, and damn, if I can use
that momentum to resist even just a layer or two of the consumerism that surrounds me
in everyday life, then maybe 150 from this gig and 75 plus tips from that gig makes me
honestly feel rich and spoiled as hell,
and the less obvious point is that the car valeting job I am saved from by not chasing
money means I have all day every day just to play and create and be with my fellow musicians,
which of course then compounds on itself by cultivating even more opportunities to make
a little more dough playing music.
Assuming I don't spend all that time incessantly saying "dude" into a camera instead.
Wait.
Dammit!
And listen dude, OF COURSE if any bit of my ramble sounds closed-minded or preachy or
just ungrateful for how privileged I really am to have the circumstances I have here,
please do trash our conversation from your mind.
Life is complicated and I don't wanna imply that I know the first thing about yours, but
if you found some inspiration or parallels in mine well then good dude, we did a thing,
and either way I just made 3 quarters of a penny off of your attention so now my privilege
is your fault.
At any rate there it is dudes, the few cents and much nonsense of one dude's drumming career,
fully parsed.
So here's my question to you.
If you really needed to know how much money you get for becoming a professional musician,
are you sure you really wanted to play music for a living anyway?
Damn, the Beard of Truth strikes again.
I said the Beard of Truth struck you like a cowbell... gets struck.
Like you strike that subscribe button.
I'm gonna go shave now 'cause I can't handle the truth, and I look like an ass.
Mainly it's the ass thing.
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