Pissing On Promotional Chips

So, there was a bunch of folks advertising for bands to play their New Year's Eve night for £50 and free beer on a local website. A discussion ensued, which I had nothing to do with, until I got annoyed enough to make an epic post on the subject. Anyway, I'm recreating it here, with some modification since the context is different.

First of all, don't put out an utterly wank flyer - if there was a band who had a singer who actually couldn't sing a note they'd get it in the neck too, and people wouldn't go and see the band. These guys sell themselves as promoters/managers, and as such I would expect them to know what a good poster/flyer looks like. I would expect them to answer questions about what qualifies them to make claims about their capabilities in the area that they are claiming expertise - just like I would expect a band to demonstrate competence in writing/playing music.

Of course, it's now fairly expected that bands should take everything that's thrown at them with good grace and for very little or nothing in return. Just because someone says this is a better deal than you'll get elsewhere, it doesn't make it a good deal. Like someone else said, consider £50, paid to a band. Let's take BBS as an example - there are five of us. We rehearse for gigs, we write material, we invest in our project. But we'll put all that to one side for now. Since it would be a local gig, we'll even class the cost of petrol as negligible.

Now, let's (egotistically) assume that BBS are headlining the gig. This means, realistically, that we'll have to turn up at 6:30 for soundcheck, and play last - let's say a half hour set starting at 11pm. That takes us from 6:30 to 11:30, and we'll be generous and throw in the takedown and loadout for free. That's 5 hours.

So far then, from £50 we have earnings for each band member of £2 per hour - ON NEW YEAR'S EVE. Without factoring in transport, food, or any other costs. It doesn't factor in the endless wear and potential damage to equipment (which we all pay handsomely for). Let's factor in the free bar - moving our gear and the band = 2 cars. So that's 2 drivers. That means 3 members of the band who can drink, and since we're headlining we have to take it easy or we'll just fall off stage. We have to loadout after the gig, which closes at 1. So three members of the band can realistically drink from 12 'til 1, unless the gig overruns, which it will. So much for the free bar.

All of this most bands would be prepared to accept all over the place. All of this bands are expected to accept all over the place. Because we should be thankful that we get to play at all, despite years of hard word and blood and sweat and tears and being in a situation that is like having a girlfriend but there are four of her and at least two of her have PMT at any given moment.

What, then, does the band get out of playing a gig? We really get paid in two ways. One, we get the chance to meet and make new fans. This is possible at established venues that folks already know about, and this is possible at venues where you can look at their advertising and say "well you know what, this might work out". Two, we get the chance to sell the merch and CDs that we have invested time, effort, and money in producing - which you can't do at a venue devoid of punters. Clearly, if you're in a band and you see the work of a venue and think there'll be no-one there there would be absolutely no reason to play that gig, would there?

So, with all this in mind, is it really unreasonable to say: well hold on a minute, you're an unproven venue, in a dodgy location, with bad advertising, making a lot of claims that you aren't backing up with hard facts?

... pause for breath ...

Promoters, on the other hand, are treated like sacred cows that shouldn't ever have a bad word said against them either as individuals or as a whole. So often I see the attitude of "well they're doing it for the music, man". Guess what - so are bands - and since music can be judged far more subjectively than promotion (one is an art, the other is a business model) then really promoters should be able to answer questions about what their business can do for bands, and back up their answers.

Don't get me wrong, there are promoters out there who do sterling work, but there are a lot more who don't, who expect bands to do all the legwork as well as providing the entertainment. There are promoters who pay bands what they can afford, and budget the whole thing properly, and who often feel bad that the market can pay bands so little. Mostly though, there are promoters who act like they are doing bands a favour, when their entire business is to exploit the market.

Obviously I'm not talking about Destiny Management exclusively here, besides my criticisms of their design work (which I think are fully justified), and my concerns about their venue (again, not unreasonable), I really haven't given them a hard time. I don't question their motives, I question their capability - and that questioning comes from observation of the visible spectrum of their business. Perhaps some testimonials from bands who've played there would help?

Sad Times

Sadly, Miss Kim has decided to go and travel a different road to the rest of BBS, and so we bid her adeiu and thanks for being a part of it and making an album with us. We're glad to report she'll be playing one last gig in our merry company on the 21st December at the Mad Ferret, and hope you'll all come along to wave goodbye in style.

Obviously, though, the BBS bus keeps rolling like a badly maintained bus full of fat people on a steep hill, so we're looking for a new singer. Think you've got what it takes? Well get in touch, and we'll give you an audition. You must be able to rehearse Monday nights and Saturday afternoons, and be able to sing like a mother****er who is taking a break from ****ing their mother.

If this sounds like you, drop us a message.

Putting Both The Asses In Assassin

In the case of Unit 12, there really are two asses in assassin. One is the shapely one of the lady killer at the heart of the story, on a distant rooftop with a telescopic sight and a high powered rifle to snuggle under it. The other is about to have "a cap popped in it" as they say in the ghetto. Anyways, the song is the aforementioned shapely assassin considering the relationship between her and her target. I think she might be a bit mental - but that's probably the estrogen at work.

Put me on the rooftop, patience is a virtue
I just want to kill you, I don't want to hurt you
Semtex voodoo doll needs a firing pin
Breathe in
Exhale
I don't want to know you I just want to take you out
There's no need to take it personal

We're in business you don't know it yet
And we've got targets that we have to hit
You could be my strangest client yet
Don't you worry I'll take care of it

Can you feel my fingers on your neck?
Even though I haven't touched you yet
We're as close as two people can get
Despite the fact we've never met

Put me on the rooftop, patience is a virtue
I just want to kill you, I don't want to hurt you
Semtex voodoo doll needs a firing pin
Breathe in
Exhale
I don't want to know you I just want to take you out
There's no need to take it personal

This could be a one way mirror
I am not a heartless killer

Musically, we wanted to write something with a proper big pounding public fuck of a middle section. Relentless banging, as it were. *ahem*. But it's nice to bracket that with something a bit more considered.

I'm A Frayed High Wire

The second track from Semi Automatic is now available! Run as fast as you can to our Bandcamp page and grab it! It's called "Not Waving But Capsizing" and we think it's rather lovely. As ever, all of this stuff was produced by us in our palatial northern mansion, Bikini Towers, using state-of-the-art equipment and a hammer to knock out the rough edges.

Strung a turn too tight
Stretched far too thin
Gone a ways too far
Got a touch too high
All the wrong things rising
Not waving but capsizing
All is silent all is bright

I'm not made for this
I'm the crack in the wing
I'm afraid that this won't work
I'm a frayed high wire
An aeroplane falling
Not flying but stalling
All is silent all is bright

I am cells gone wild
The enemy within
I'm not well at all
I'm a spell in quarantine
Bacteria invading
Multiplying, replicating
All is silent all is bright

All the wrong things rising
Not waving but capsizing

This was an odd little song to write - it started with the little twiddly guitar part and a very peculiar drumloop, and then built from there. As for the lyrics, they weren't the usual agonising process of adjustment and refitting, and pretty much came in rush. Guess I wasn't feeling top of the world that day ha ha. The last verse I'm particularly pleased with - swine flu was big on the news, and I had a cold that I naturally assumed was cancer.

Oh, and the "frayed high wire" bit came from having just watched Man On Wire. If you haven't seen it, you should - it's... dizzying, and for me goes with the sense of vertigo we were trying to put into the music, especially with that relentless bass drone.

Anyways, hope you like it.

Semi Automatic - New EP, First Track Released!

So we've released the first track from our new free EP, "Semi Automatic" - it's called Unit 12, and it's a little story about an assassin with an overactive imagination. Hope you enjoy it, feel free to pass it on to folks who like songs about assassins :)

Here's the cover for the EP:

JSP-440

"The protective marking of the definitions of the BIKINI Alert States is RESTRICTED but the codewords BIKINI WHITE, BIKINI BLACK, BIKINI BLACK SPECIAL, BIKINI AMBER and BIKINI RED are not protectively marked. These codewords may be passed by telephone provided that they are not qualified in any way. Notices displaying the current Alert States are to be sited so as to minimize the likelihood of the general public seeing them. These codewords and their meanings are understood by the civil police. The codewords and their definitions are not to be communicated to the media or any other unauthorized person."

UK MoD Manual of Security Volumes 1, 2 and 3 Issue 2, JSP-440, RESTRICTED, 2389 pages, 2001

New Songs? You Betcha!

So we're gonna be rolling out some new material over the next couple of gigs, which will be fun - after so long working on the album it's strange and beautiful to write some new stuff!

Here's one, it's called "Not Waving But Capsizing"

Strung a turn too tight
Stretched far too thin
Gone a ways too far
Gone a touch too high
All the wrong things rising
Not waving but capsizing
All is silent, all is bright

I'm not made for this
I'm the crack in the wing
I'm afraid that this won't work
I'm a frayed high wire
An aeroplane stalling
Not flying but falling
All is silent, all is bright

I am cells gone wild
The enemy within
I’m not well at all
I’m a spell in quarantine
Bacteria invading
Multiplying, duplicating
All is silent, all is bright

The Life And Times Of Bikini Black Special

So hi, yeah, we're Bikini Black Special. No, the other one. I'd even go as far as to say the good one. We deal in facts so here are some:

• We're from Preston, which happens to be in the northwest of England.
• There are five of us - Kim who sings, Paddy who plays guitar, mucks around with a computer, and "sings", Bobby who plays the drums, Jonti who plays a giant stack of keyboards, and Kev who makes pretty moving pictures, except when we play acoustic gigs when he interprets the songs in real time on a flip chart.
• We combine rock, electro and drum n bass into a sound that people with no clue compare to Portishead.
• We have made an album. It is called "The Grim Mathematics Of Intercourse" and you can both hear and buy it (if you wanna) at the other end of this clicky-link.
• We rarely dance, but we like it when you do.
• One of us used to be an altar boy.
• One of us wishes he was an altar boy.
• One is in unholy communion with a hoover.
• One has a sandy vagina, and is endowed like a spartan.

Anyways, that's a bit of an intro, we'd love to hear from you, you can chum us up on facebook if you fancy it, then you'll know where we've got gigs, and when, and you can come and see us and shout cusswords right to our grubby unwashed little faces.