I have successfully quit concert touring four times now. Once to work for Cirque, once for The Joint, once for Calvin Harris, and most recently, to work for a lighting manufacturer. Each of these jobs allowed me the pleasure of sleeping in my own bed, but few of them afforded me any more time with my family. Much like my addictions to other substances, I have returned to touring again and again, but in different doses. I am addicted to a life on the road. It took me several sessions with my therapist to say that in public. I used to disguise my addiction by trying to rationalize it with platitudes. I’d say, ‘We gotta take my job one day at a time’ or ‘I need to take this job, or they’ll never call me again.’ The last two years have made most of us question our professional obligations. Are we only lighting folk or do we need to diversify our resume? When the next pandemic hits, will we have the luxury to run back to Home Depot, Uber, or Whole Foods? Can we find enough local sustenance to avoid stinky shoes on the bus? Working eight-hour days is a welcome schedule after years of getting beat up by 18-hour days in the dark. Is the touring life for everyone? Is the touring life for you?
The Pros
Ego
This article was inspired by a recent co-worker. I am currently doing a theater installation in Europe. The people I am working with are mostly technicians, electricians, and engineers who happen to be in a theater. I’m the sole lighting guy who has been asked to consult. The lunch talks inevitably lead to what other projects we have done. This co-worker’s resume includes several large venues, cruise ships, and houses of worship in his area. He eats out of the same breakfast bowl most mornings. He asked me what I have done. After listing just a few of the A-list artists on my resume, his jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he exclaimed “Those are the bands that I have in my playlist.” I’d be lying if I said that response doesn’t puff my ego a bit.
World Travel
Thanks to my specific skill set, I have had the pleasure of visiting all seven continents before the age of 30. Thanks to my ability to make lights blink when other people tell me to, I have seen the Pyramids of Giza, the Acropolis in Greece, and even Antarctica. Travel fulfills my soul by continuously exposing me to new landmarks, cultures, and environments. Concert touring provides the kind of life that sitting in a cubicle can’t.
Responsibility
When I am out on the road with the best clients, my responsibilities drop down to the bare minimum. I am so busy focusing on my job that someone else takes care of everything else. Someone else cooks the food, does the laundry, books the flights, checks me into the hotels, and so on. Someone even brings me water at FOH and asks if the temperature is right. I am eternally grateful for this level of hospitality. It makes a roadie feel appreciated. It also makes me feel like a child. I have gone to the counter of major airports for the clerk to ask where I was flying, and I didn’t know the answer. I would have to turn around and ask the PM. I didn’t book the tickets, I didn’t read the email, I didn’t check the itinerary. I just skimmed the attachment for bus call and showed up on time. Sometimes, that’s the extent of the work that I did all day. It’s hard to find anything wrong with a life like this.
The Cons
But there are things wrong with a life on the road. It’s lonely, busy, and exhausting.
Lonely
It’s the weirdest thing. On the road, we are surrounded by people but most of us are lonely. We are surrounded by crew and coworkers, but rarely family. Some bands like to call themselves a family, but when the shot hits the pan, people get let go in a way that family members cannot. Most of the tours that I have been on have end dates. That means that these people are going to leave for other tours. Some may return and some may not. An account rep in L.A. is partly responsible for who your temporary best friend might be. I have roadie besties that I have not seen in years and that hurts. It hurts enough that it becomes easier to not make strong connections knowing that these people can leave any day. The only people that you can truly count on is your actual family, even when they are a continent away.
Busy
Life on the road is 24/7. Even days off aren’t days off. When I quit touring, a day off is a day at home with my family, doing chores until I could sneak away to the hammock. On the road, a day off is advancing shows and answering emails in your hotel room with the door open so the Wi-Fi is stable. Facebook makes it look like days off are spent visiting art museums and eating at your friend’s mom’s house, but these are the exceptions, not the rule. Life on the road is full of early morning bus calls, late night loading docks, and four-hour naps in between. The days are spent building, tearing down, revising, and updating everything you did the day earlier to make someone happy who may or may not know what you do.
Exhausting
Life on the road is not always healthy. Eating truck stop nuggets, over-salted green beans, and grabbing a six-pack of energy drinks starts to feel normalized after a month. We can convince ourselves that swapping the soda for the diet soda is making a healthy choice. Michael Pollan, the author who popularized the difference between “real food” and “edible food-like substances,” notes that “the best marker of a healthy diet was whether the food was cooked by a human being.” Life on the road rarely affords us the time to find home cooked meals. These long hours combined with a lack of wholesome nutrients can lead to fatigue and exhaustion. Unchecked, these conditions can downgrade to full depression.
What about Me?
Right now, the entertainment industry is looking for lots of people who are ready to tour. Production houses are calling non-stop. If you are considering a life on the road, the best advice I can give you is this: If you are single, hungry to work, travel, and sacrifice, then get out there and see the world from the jump seat. If you have a family and you enjoy stability, structure, and routine, then stay home. Find a local theater, convention center, or venue and be the best in your local area. You may still work long hours, leave work when the sun comes up, and make decent money, but you will know where your next meal comes from, when to clock out, and who will hug you goodnight. Choose your priorities wisely.
