WITHOUT THEM, THERE IS NO SHOW

Every gig that has ever happened is remembered through its sound. The music that infiltrates your memory, permeating your mind with flashbacks of moments defined by your favourite songs or band. However, a thought that has permeated my own mind was one after a recent interview I did. I spoke to Kapayja, and after asking about a quote of their own that they had a “realisation we live amongst very talented and interesting people that may go through life unnoticed”, I probed what local musicians do they hope never do? Their answer pleasantly shocked me because it wasn't one that I had envisioned when asking the question. But that made their response all the more interesting and beautiful. They said “I wasn't even thinking about musicians even though it applies perfectly to that. It was about just people who do so much in the community that are unnoticed”.

I have played music myself, I have witnessed my favourite bands play, I have witnessed my friends play, and I have witnessed the awe-struck wonder of the crowd. Every-time the core mesmerisation is done by the person playing, the captivating nature of being on the stage, quite literally put on a spotlight. But something we never really see doesn't lie in the purpose of gigs, but the functional aspects that come weeks, months or years beforehand. The people who organise the gig, set up the gear, take care of the artists, do the lights and sound, and create the experience before a single note has been hit. And these people do go unnoticed, like magical workers that create an experience before the first member of the crowd arrives.

Something I have somehow only recently realised, is the multifaceted aspect to the industry. When you think of the music industry, you think of musicians and their lives. You think of your own music, and what it entails. But what you don't really think about, are the people who make music alive. The people watching and working behind the scenes to make it happen. The sound engineers, the lighting engineers, the load in crew, the security. And then the people who work consistently, when there are no gigs to be played. The managers, the booking agents, the press industry, the promotion companies. These are the people who garden the industry, making it bloom the way it does. I have always considered myself a part of music, and have always pictured my future in a place that is within it or right beside it. The childhood dreams of picturing myself on stage, singing my original content, to thousands of people; and as much as that will always be a dream of mine, its one I will never truly commit to (as much as I would love to). This realisation hit me hard, because it made me feel like the industry was completely out of my reach, that I didn't have the drive or talent to make it a reality as a superstar so I might as well give up. But although I had my taste of playing on a stage, the most fulfilled I've ever felt has been behind the scenes. 

I'll never stop giving thanks to NuMuze for the opportunities it has given me, all the things I've experienced so far are things I never pictured being reality when I first started writing. Going to festivals, finding and meeting new artists, being able to have a platform to write my thoughts into existence, delving into the inner workings of behind the curtain of a stage. My plans for my future have changed and morphed to incorporate my academic dreams with my future life plans, in an industry that feels like home. I enjoy working first hand with artists, meeting new people and building connections that make me want to listen more and put more into music. I used to think that being part of the music industry meant being the person on stage. Now, I think it means being one of the people who makes that stage possible. 

One thing I personally haven't felt, but have seen repeated on numerous occasions within different places behind the scenes, is the lack of appreciation the people holding the industry on their shoulders usually get. Perhaps that's what makes the people behind the music so important. They don't necessarily receive the applause, they aren't the ones standing beneath the spotlight, and their names might never be remembered by the audience. But without them, the spotlight wouldn't exist in the first place. Every instrument tuned, every gig booked, every photo taken, every microphone placed and every spotlight shone has been done by a network of people who may never take to the stage and never receive recognition for this. There is something quite beautiful about that. To be able to contribute to something so meaningful without needing to be the person everyone is looking at. The music industry isn't built solely on the people we see, but it is built by everyone who makes those moments possible. The people who arrive hours before the doors open and stay hours after the last song has been played. Their work might be invisible, but their impact certainly isn't.

I think that's something I had to learn for myself. I used to associate being part of music with being the person on stage, with being heard and recognised and applauded. But now, I'm beginning to understand that being part of music can mean something completely different. It can mean creating opportunities for artists, telling their stories, helping build an environment where they can perform, or simply being one of the people making sure that everything comes together when the lights go down. And as mentioned previously, that is something much more fulfilling for me than being on stage ever was. I know so many people who reach for stardom are putting all their effort and time into being the next big act, but to anyone who is trying and struggling to avail of succession, putting your effort into ensuring there will be the next big act may be where your talents lie. Sometimes, the most important role in music isn’t being the name on the poster, but being the person who helps put the poster up