So, You're Going on Tour

by Owen Schmidt

You’ve packed your personal belongings into a small backpack. A toothbrush, a few shirts, a pair of pants, maybe two, and hopefully some deodorant. You cram into a car far too small to fit the number of people in your band, put your backpack on your lap, and pray to god you didn’t forget anything.

The car is quiet at first, it still hasn’t hit you yet.

You’re going on tour.

You thought it would feel super cool, that you would be driving down the highway with the windows down, blasting pop punk out of the car, like a 90’s teen movie.

But as of now, it’s a little humid, you’re crammed in a car, and you’re still on the same highway you use to get to work. It’ll feel cool eventually, I swear, just not yet.

You drive a few hours, the car isn’t too rowdy yet, you make some conversation, listen to some music, you’re a little nervous as to how the first night is gonna go.

You get to the venue, and play to four people.

You listen to the other bands, and they’re amazing, experienced performers. You enjoy their music, maybe buy some merch with money you don’t really have, and do your best to learn from them.

You thank whoever is letting you crash on their floor, sleep, and leave in the morning.

It’s rinse, wash, repeat; yet every day is somehow vastly different. Nothing blends together.

You’ll sleep at a close friend’s house one night, in a complete stranger’s another.

You’ll play to four people one night, eighty another.

You’ll play with wonderful, experimental, amazing bands, ones that dare you to dream of making music that good. You’ll also play with bands that probably don’t practice very often, or make music you don’t like.

No matter what the other bands sounds like, you will stay for their sets, and give them the respect you want when you’re performing the music you’ve spent hours upon hours making.

You will talk to wonderful people. People who will put you up for the night, give you food, let you shower, and do the laundry you desperately need to do.

You’ll also play some great sets. Ones that make you feel like you’re in a “real band”, sets where you’re just fucking on, sets that make all the work you’ve put in worth it.

You’ll also play a bad set or two. You’ll be just a hair off time, not together, or just too fucking tired to play with the amount of energy you want to.

Don’t take the bad ones hard. Focus on the music, and not the way you’re playing it. You’re gonna play a show or two where you’re sick and exhausted. With the amount of sleep you’re getting and the food you’re eating, you’re just not going to feel 100% all the time.

So try to take care of yourself. Sleep extra hours in the car, shop at grocery stores instead of eating out, brush your teeth, and eat some goddamn vegetables.

Try to stay alive the best you can, cause you’re gonna make a few memories.

The conversations you’ll have, the incredible people you’ll meet, and the kindness of the strangers and friends you’ve met online might just restore your faith in humanity. The bands you play with will give you food and advice, and you might make some friends along the way.

Of course, you might get sick of long car rides, of each other and of playing pretty much the same songs every night. You’ll probably miss your own bed. You’ll be fueled completely on caffeine and if you don’t have a dependence already, you’ll probably develop one. It’s long hours, you’ll sleep on floors, be sweaty all the time, and you’ll probably start to crack a little bit by the end.

But you will have some special moments. Where you’re playing a set and everything clicks. Where the audience is enjoying the music you’re playing and you are too. You’re in a band, and you probably don’t suck that much, I mean people are booking you right? You will meet new people, make new friends, and if you’re like me, you’ll do a fair share of driving with the windows down, listening to pop punk.

Remember these moments. Remember that feeling.

Who knows, you might just end up stealing a doorknob from a rooftop in Brooklyn, meet someone named Taco-man in what may or may not have been a brothel, or have your car break down midway to New York only to be fixed by a rapper turned AAA agent.

These things have been known to happen.

Enjoy your tour.

- Sincerely, a scared child with a big head.