At the risk of sounding like an old man yelling at clouds for blocking his sun, there is something I miss. Walking into the music store the other day I realized how much I missed the ol’ music store bulletin board — a vast landscape of opportunity and possibilities, posted just centimeters away from possible crushing rejection and eternal obscurity, covered entirely with layers of papers in varying stages of disintegration. Some were attached with thumb tacks, some with tape; some were simply shoved between others, seemingly held up by sheer will. They were often scrawled with a pen – “Drummer needed,” “PA for sale,” “Singer looking for band” – each saturated with the hopes and dreams of aspiring musicians, hoping to make the connection that will lead them to the place they long to be.
Sometimes overlooked for its costlier “pay for every line” cousin, the Musicians Wanted section of the weekly music publication, the bulletin board had its own particular charm.
First, it was generated from within the neighborhood, which has definite advantages. You didn’t need to travel far to rehearse, as the bus is often a crowded place with gear. Carpooling is way more of a possibility and most of the gigs will probably be close. Our finances will probably be similar and therefore so will the quality of our gear and the amount of angst we have for the establishment. Our taste in music may differ, but our general disdain for the most popular band in town will be similar. Living close by increases the odds of getting along with each other for more than a month by at least 25%.
The precise bulletin on that board mattered. In the time before My Space and all the others that would follow, there was no place for fans to instantly access a band’s audio or video recording. Thus, the presentation of your ad on the board was your first impression. And as a person looking to the board for treasure, you needed to be able discern what the ad for a drummer in a cover band meant when it said they required their members to have “the look.” The person looking for a singer was now forced to create a list of bands they thought their band sounded like. They also had to imply that they wanted the singer to sound like “this guy” without saying they wanted a singer that sounded like that guy.
How much work was put into the flyer definitely mattered as well. It could not only show a certain financial investment, but also how much the band cared about what people thought. A clearly written and visually organized flyer seemed to want prospective band members to want the same, as opposed to a flyer made on the bus on the way over, which left room for interpretation. It’s an important factor when you’re 15 and looking for a band with which you’ll conquer the world.
I love the internet and realize its numerous benefits to the music industry, and I do not purport to believe the old ways were better. But digging through that bulletin board was like searching for yard sale treasures — something was tucked in there, waiting just for you.
