Joe Wilkinson – CRAZY TOUR STORIES

In this Crazy Tour Stories segment, the singer-songwriter, Joe Wilkinson, talks about some of his crazy moments from touring. You can check out the feature, after the break.

My name is Joe Wilkinson. I’m an acoustic singer/songwriter/loop pedal artist from Bournemouth, UK. Just under three years ago, after finishing university, I decided that I wanted to make music my full-time job. I bought my first P.A. and headed out on the road in search of gigs and an audience that would appreciate me. Shock horror, it turns out that isn’t as easy as it sounds! In fact, it’s really difficult! Before the days of working with proper producers, labels and management companies it was me and my Dad out on the road. After around 250 shows in Spain, Germany, and the UK, over 100 flights and more English pubs than would be safe for an alcoholic, tea drinking, cricket playing, beefeater, I’m finally getting somewhere. The fact that I’m sitting here writing this for you guys is a testament to that! I thought I’d tell a story about a particular gig I did very early on where things weren’t looking quite as promising.

The Thatched Tavern. When I first started out playing pubs in England, one of my first gigs was in this quaint little pub about 70 miles away from my hometown. My Dad, who was doing the bookings for me, whilst I was away playing in Germany, assured me that it was a nice venue that had regular live music. When we arrived, from the outside, all looked well. Admittedly it looked a bit small and as though it would be better placed in The Shire than in 21st century Britain, but I was full of optimism about playing for a crowd and putting 150 quid in my ever-empty pocket. Upon walking through the door, things changed. Speaker in one hand, guitar in the other, the 6 people that were sat in the bar stopped what they were doing to fire a soul-destroying glare my way, immediately confirming to me that they were there for a quiet drink and that my enthusiasm and eagerness to play was simply not going to be tolerated. After some rather uncomfortable minutes, the manager came over, grunted something and pointed in the direction that I should set up, a tiny space in the corner along with the words ‘I got a 6 piece in there once’. I considered asking if they were a real band or made up of his action figure collection but decided I’d rather keep my teeth and so set my stuff up.

The first problem I noticed was the ceiling was too low for me to actually stand up straight. Now, I’m quite a tall guy, by no means a giant, but stood up straight my head touched the roof. I resigned myself to the fact that I was either going to have a bump on my head at the end of the night or that I was going to have to perform hunched over, like some kind of singing Quasimodo. If I remember correctly I went for a nice blend of the two. The second issue that struck me was that the toilets were directly behind where I was playing, with no other route to the bathroom other than walking directly through my playing space, I’d call it a stage but that would make me a liar. So picture the scene, there I am singing my heart out to these 5 or 6 people who literally wouldn’t have noticed if Elvis had risen from the grave and swapped places with me, and the only interaction I get was when they would ask to squeeze by mid-song so they could go and squeeze out something else. I resigned myself to the fact that it was going to be one of those nights. Until…

In walks in a group of about five really tough-looking guys who had, I can only assume from the smell and the volume visited a number of other establishments before deciding to stop off to make my evening that little bit more enjoyable (that’s English sarcasm folks). You could tell from the shouting, it sounded like words but they weren’t words, at least not in any language that I speak. Luckily, to start with, they didn’t give me any trouble, in fact after a few minutes they were getting quite into my music and I thought that maybe for the last half an hour I’d at least be playing for some people that almost cared. I was wrong. What actually happened was that the biggest and scariest one came up to me and told me that he ‘loved to sing and was really good’ he then proceeded to clamber into my little space and said ‘what can we sing’. He couldn’t sing! He couldn’t sing at all! I tried my best to conceal the horror on my face with a half-baked smile and nervous laughter. I finished my set with his out of tune ramblings over the top. Packed up my stuff and got the hell out of there. At least I was 150 quid better off.

When this first happened I was admittedly a bit shaken. I knew my music was good and I was a little bit puzzled as to why these people couldn’t see it or at least give me a chance to see it. In reality, they weren’t the right audience for what I do, they still wouldn’t be now. But I wasn’t ready either! What is different now is that I’ve played a hell of a lot of shows, I’ve learned much more (although there is always more to be learned) about how to work an audience. You have to play bad shows at the start. It makes you stronger, tougher and more resolute. Plus, however long it takes, once things start to turn around, it makes it taste that much sweeter to know where you have come from. After all: every single artist or band you ever loved started out playing gigs to next to no one. The Beatles did it for five years and it turned out rather well for them! That’s not to say that I am exactly where I want to be yet, but there visible progress and I know I will get there! It’s nice to be able to look back now and laugh, I hope it gave you one too!

Keep up with the artist on Facebook and Twitter!