Times are tough on Sixth Street, say both the clubowners and musicians. In fact, all over town, big local draws are fading and young contenders are having trouble establishing a following. Yet in the midst of what feels like a musical recession, one facet of Austin's live scene continues to prosper: The Party Circuit.
Only this isn't your parents' blue-tuxedo, Mel Torme-singin' party circuit. This is big business. A top-tier party act can expect $500-$3,500 a night, with party legends like Jerry Jeff Walker or the Fabulous Thunderbirds walking away with many times that. Nationally, even Los Lobos still take on wedding gigs. But the party circuit isn't just weddings anymore, either. Popular Talent, Austin's largest talent broker for parties, will book over 100 performances a week during the holiday season alone.
"It's a figure that often knocks William Morris agents out of their seats," says Mark Schaberg, Popular Talent's owner. In fact, Schaberg's operation is so large that he oversees three divisions: Corporate, Club, and Collegiate. "And then we'll get a call from a guy who wants to propose to his wife and needs a bagpipe player in his bedroom at 9am on a Saturday. We'll set that up too."
Still, the bulk of Popular Talent's clients are looking for full bands and because every party has its own needs for talent, there results a diverse market for both cover and original artists -- a market most bands don't even know exists. Generally, cover bands that primarily play parties and forgo club exposure, like Duck Soup, the Argyles, Vince Vance & the Valiants, and Memphis Train, tie up Popular Talent's "Corporate" tier of party demand. While these party circuit all-stars may lack press attention and a faithful club audience on which to fall back, many also stand to outgross Austin's most popular signed and unsigned talent in any given year. Because 10 gigs a month aren't unusual -- even discounting the busy wedding and holiday seasons that can offer nearly twice as many gigs -- the party circuit math is simple: Figuring an average payout of $1,000 per gig, a band like Duck Soup can make, at the very least, $120,000 a year.
Jack Ingram entertains the "Southwest Conference" at La Zona Rosa last year
Take for example acts like Jackopierce, Jack Ingram, David Garza, and MC Overlord, all of whom, after extensive touring of the Southwest college fraternity/sorority/campus events circuit, have built sizable club draws anchored mostly by the crowds they picked up along the party circuit. "People remember the bands that played their parties," says Shaberg, "so there's room for a more personal and loyal following that can develop into a full-fledged fanbase."
And at the college level, it's all about establishing a word-of-mouth reputation. So, while acts like Corey Morrow or Banana Blender Surprise prove a string of solid college shows can impact an act's subsequent club dates, the word-of-mouth on the parties themselves can be equally powerful. Just last month, Schaberg organized an event for UT's embattled Silver Spurs organization, which sold out the Austin Music Hall for the unlikely bill of El Vez and Coolio. The general public had no idea the show ever happened. How were the tickets sold? In class, student to student.
Schaberg says it doesn't take a Grammy winner like Coolio to entice the party talent buyers, because even local acts like Mr. Fabulous, the Lucky Strikes, Chris Wall, and Sister 7 have become high-priced party draws based on their reputations as already established local club successes. "If you've got a little buzz in the clubs, there's naturally more recognition and more requests," says Schaberg. "And for the college kids, it's almost a status thing for them to go out and say to their friends or the rival fraternity that they had the Nixons, Jackopierce, or Sister 7 play their jungle party."
Rusty Wier and fans
Soon enough, Ingram's college audiences began to support his occasional club outings -- although in order to pay his band, he was dipping into his party circuit slush fund. "I'd made it a rule to myself early on that I'd only play the party gigs until I could get the club shows running on the type of level that they could support myself and the band," explains Ingram. "So we'd play the fraternity parties, doing three-show weekends by traveling to something like Waco, Austin, and College Station. For a while, I'd play three parties, then two parties and a club, and then two clubs and a party. Eventually it wound up as three club dates."
Today, Ingram only considers playing what he deems "heavy duty" parties, although he admits that the fans he's picked up over the years of "Southwest Conference" fraternity touring still comprise the bulk of his following. But even with a crowd that's stayed the same, Ingram says there's a noticeable difference between the college party and club atmospheres. "You learn real quick that you're not an artist at a party," says Ingram. "You're the band. It's like being at a club that doesn't care about the band and is solely concerned with selling beer. I asked myself if this was really what I wanted to keep doing. Would I rather be stuck in a corner with people banging into my microphone or be on a real stage?"
Ingram chose the latter, expanded his touring base and signed with MCA after his three independent releases sold 30,000 units combined. And therein lies the crux of Ingram's game plan: Convert party crowds to club crowds, and club crowds into record buyers. "It was everything," Ingram says of the sales figures. "The labels saw my sales and that was it. Whether these people came from the colleges or not wasn't important. They didn't care where I'd picked up that kind of fanbase -- and I didn't either. At the shows they sing along with the songs, and then they take the records home and listen. End of story."
Robert Earl Keen and his following
And perhaps because bands like Soulhat and the Ugly Americans penetrated so much of the Southwest by consistently touring clubs, and stringing together private parties when necessary, booking agents say there's a demand for Austin talent outside the city limits that's reminiscent of France's obsession with all things Texan. "In the collegiate market, we do a lot of stuff for schools like SMU, Baylor, and Texas A&M," says Schaberg. "And it winds up as a great asset being from Austin. They like calling here and being able to say they've got an Austin band playing their event."
In turn, original bands playing the party circuit like the exposure to out-of-town crowds that could develop into return business on their next club tour. Scott Robinson, whose Robinson/Wood outfit manages three of the college circuit's biggest stars in Jackopierce, Vertical Horizon, and Sister 7, says even the occasional college show can add to what he calls a band's "capture rate."
"Bands without substantial radio or press are playing in search of a word-of-mouth buzz," says Robinson, who estimates that 70-80% of his artists' mailing lists are comprised of college students. "And with the college shows, there's definitely a capture rate of somewhere between 30-50%. Even if only 20% come back, that's 20% more people you've got on a mailing list to sell merchandise to and alert about shows when you get back in their town."
Yet, to further blur the distinction between club and party circuit acts, R&B bands with horns also happen to be quite popular in the clubs right now, with acts like Joe Valentine, Memphis Train, and the Atlantic Soul Revue proving good local draws. Similarly, the recent wave of lounge/swing acts like the Lucky Strikes, 81/2 Souvenirs, and Mr. Fabulous have also become hot properties for the corporate and private party interests. The common thread, say booking agents, is that groups of this ilk are all about party tunes and party delivery.
"I think people are moving away from the variety band," says Craig Marshall of the Lucky Strikes. "Austin's a cool enough place that people realize the lounge movement they enjoy at the Continental Club could also be perfect for their weddings. And what we've ultimately found is that the types of parties we play and the club gigs we play tend to share an audience demographically."
Jerry Jeff Walker and fans
But even at the most conservative weddings, where there may be no end-of-show climax, the Lucky Strikes' Marshall says the anticipation of a big payday is often comfort enough to get a band through the night -- and looking forward to reinvesting that money in more creative career moves. "We can afford to do a real low-paying but cool showcase because we play the parties," he says. "Or we can go to another city and basically break even because we've financed the trip with party money. So it's nice to be able to pick a city we want to develop, like San Francisco, and not worry about going home poor by having to play the freebie gigs we need for exposure. For an original rock & roll band, it might be more of a struggle."
So what about the plight of original-material rock & roll bands? Generally, say the booking agents, rock acts fare better in the college environment than the corporate and private scenes. So much so, in fact, that these musicians have always been an integral component of the party circuit by moonlighting in cover bands. Of late, Paul Minor has become a prime example of an artist comfortable riding the fence, as the leader of his own Superego and as part of the Argyles -- one of the wedding circuit's most successful cover outfits. Minor says his share of Argyles' money goes directly into financing the Superego, which, thanks to the subsidy, can afford to play the Rock & Roll Free-for-All at Hole in the Wall for the exposure and produce both a quality website and CD.
"By playing in a cover band, I can afford a lot of things I couldn't before," says Minor, who admits the Argyles money makes it less imperative that he book $50 gigs in Houston. "But when I'm playing out of town with the Argyles, I always carry a few Superego discs with me. Since the shows are usually over early, I can go out into a new city and try and get Superego gigs in person. I've got to always think about the Superego, because I realize that the money and comfort level from the Argyles can make for one of those velvet ruts, where it becomes all you're doing creatively."
Robert Earl Keen
Conversely, a band's club audience can also be turned off by an influx of fans a band has made on the party circuit. "The fans you've picked up at parties are definitely noticeable," says Cassis. "It's a fine line, because the so-called `music lovers' get offended by the amount of fraternity guys or special interests. But we weren't too picky because whichever group they're from, listening to the music once they got to the show was going to be up to the individual anyway."
Chris Wall and fans
But even after the math, the key to the party circuit may just be that it's steady work -- especially in Austin. With a collegiate demand for parties during rush weekends, football season, and the holidays, there's plenty of opportunity to reach a young crowd with the time and disposable income for a busy clubgoing nightlife. Add in the influx of young professionals moving into town -- usually with big companies that also host an array of parties, banquets, and cocktail hours -- you have a solid base for parties and weddings.
And steady work, says Marshall, means steady accessibility to new faces, even in a live music recession. "Because we'll so often find clubgoers and sell CDs from the business at parties, the party circuit is a good place to be," he says. "Parties can be more than about background music, or even the money. We get more out of it than you'd think...."
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