do you want to fill?
This is part of a slightly fictionalized essay about the time I participated in Billboard’s 2012 Battle of the Bands competition.
Setting the stage: BandX, from SF is picked to compete in Billboard’s Battle of the Bands in Las Vegas. The competition is sponsored by Chevy and mainly involves shooting promos for Chevy Malibu, the car we are driving to Vegas. Along the way, we play shows in Bakersfield, and Los Angeles while being filmed and staging scenes where we pretend to be lost and then have to use the car’s “incredible” OnStar navigation system find our way to our next show.
Having arrived in Las Vegas, we meet our rival bands, Copyright Infringing, Before the Fire, and Teeny Bop and we are given an advising session by our “mentor” Taio Cruz who is actually a closeted poet. Now it’s the day of the competition and we are nervously preparing for our two song chance at fame at the Hard Rock Café stage.
Day of Competition: We wake up early, despite our long night out experiencing all the Vegas has to offer. BandX is nervous; we are always anxious before shows and become reserved little deer, pacing, and jittery, while we force ourselves to go through the motions of eating, and drinking, and pretending we’re fine.
The day feels achingly slow despite the impending concert. I practice Bach for a little while in the hotel room before stopping and realizing I have zero interest in practicing. It’s not until three that the day picks up speed and suddenly there isn’t time to breathe.
Our sound check takes place in the empty Joint Theater of the Hard Rock Café .
We enter just as Teeny Bop is finishing up her sound check with an Adele song. Her blond hair is crimped, and she’s wearing a black velvet jacket, and velvet boots, both with matching fringe. Her three backing band members must have had a collective age of 45, and seemed intimidated by the sound guy who scoffed at them as he suggested they sound check the songs they would actually play at the competition. They continue to play Adele and ask for more of themselves in the monitor.
The next band, Copyright Infringing, begin their sound check process. Theirs goes smoothly while they run their set. We watch from the upstairs balcony, and make our various critical comments.
What I’ve learned about sound checks is this: It’s the moment when bands peacock for the other bands.
What I’ve learned about sound checks is this: It’s the moment when bands peacock for the other bands.
During the actual show, most bands on the bill won’t be listening to your performance because they’ll be backstage drinking with girls they hope to impress by bringing them to a backstage…but it’s during this time before the show, where you have to continually beg the sound guy for more in the monitor, when you show off. The greatest compliment is when another band tells you, “Great sound check! I look forward to hearing you tonight, man!” Sound check is primarily about sizing people up.
We realize during the sizing up period that we have a really good shot at winning. If our sound check is any indication, we know that we are offering something original, and that we are good. We are good players, we love playing, and we want to be on this stage and every stage. We are more than this competition. Yes, it’s ego talking but at that moment I think we realized that we were just meant to play music, whether it be a competition sponsored by Billboard, or a small show in Bakersfield, we loved it. That was our strength. Everyone felt that. The sound guy talked to us in a voice that wasn’t snarky and demeaning. The other bands look us in the eye to say they like the set. We are still nervous, but we feel grounded.
The Green Room:Before diving into the actual competition, I need to write about the green room experience. Before this show, every backstage area I had been in was usually about the size of a luxury SF apartment in the Mission. So to have a backstage area that was more than 250 sq. ft. was pretty exciting. This room was like a hotel suite. It had two sitting areas, a bathroom with a shower, a stocked kitchen, and a private bar. We were psyched to share the room with Before the Fire. We instantly started cracking jokes, and jamming. A stage hand came in to make sure we were comfortable and gave us a small speech about how it was fine to do what we wanted in the room, but management had one rule: don’t overdose. It’s a hassle to clean up. Oh, and no smoking cigarettes in the room.
Slot Filling: It’s concert hour. We are scheduled to play right in the middle. The first band plays their Cold Play sounding set and as they finish they smile smugly. They have their signature, matching jackets on, and their hair is parted the same direction. The set was tight, and polished, and totally boring. The judges begin their commentary.
Billboard had not told us that there would be any feedback from the judges. We assumed they would say a few things but had no idea of the shit storm of criticism they would unleash on the competitors. It was a bizarre panel, made up of people who matter. They were all Billboard executives, and they all refilled their drinks at least three times per set. They wrote down notes on index cards as the bands played and passed them back and forth to each other.
After the first band finishes, one panelist leans back in her chair and says, “What’s with the jackets? I don’t get it and I don’t like it.”
The lead singer looks utterly surprised and terrified. I turn to one of my band members watching this unfold, and we raise our eyebrows. We had no idea this was going to be that kind of competition. Shit!
The exec leans forward now, props her head between her hands, and feigns a headache, “I want to know something, I’m going to ask every band the same important question tonight, ‘Whose slot do you want to fill?’” The band hesitates, not understanding what she means. She reiterates, “If you make it big, whose position do you want to take?” The band mutters something about Cold Play being their biggest influence.
‘Whose slot do you want to fill?’
She sighs, pausing before stating, “Cold Play? Yep, exactly, it’s just that… I’ve heard this music before. You’re like some bad rip off. I’d rather listen to the real thing.” She takes a sip of something clear and continues, “And lose the jackets.”
We are shocked. Everyone is shocked. The band looks defeated and slumps off the stage, only to be greeted by a camera and a MTV host who asks them questions about their feelings and what their future plans are. The responses are live streamed to the Chevy Malibu Youtube page.
The attack of the bands is difficult to watch. Even Teeny Bopper gains our sympathy when they shred every crimped fiber of her being. Then, Before the Fire goes on. Their set is crazy with a mix of hip hop and rock, and some raucous jamming. As the final chord is played, they stand still and look defiantly at the judges.
“Whose slot do you want to fill?”
The vocalist steps forward and proclaims, “We are from the future!” The room is silent at this point and then another panelist asks them to clarify. Again, the vocalist, armed with a mic, says, “It doesn’t matter, because we came from the future. We came here to tell you that this is crap. We came to tell you that you are dinosaurs, that you’re gonna go extinct. No one needs you anymore.”
I turn again to my band mate, and we whisper, “Are they telling off the music industry?”
The whole thing is totally fascinating to watch. As the execs struggled to make Before the Fire act normally by repeating the same question over and over, the band just gets weirder and weirder. I guess the Billboard panel expected everyone to want what the competition offered, but didn’t realize that some contestants had figured out that the competition had nothing to offer. I fall in love with them for refusing to cave in, and saying the truth to an industry that can’t and won’t listen, despite the strangeness of their method.
Before the Fire files off stage and does an interview with the MTV guy who inquires about flying cars. We wait our turn.
As we step on stage the lights are blinding me and I can’t see anything beyond my monitor; because of this my nerves are shed. We play our hearts out and are the one band that night that receives only praise. I think we made it clear that we were there because we wanted to play music.
I don’t want to take anyone’s place. I’ll make a place of my own.
That question comes around. Our singer answers honestly, “I don’t want to take anyone’s place. I’ll make a place of my own.”
Results: Despite our stellar performance, we do not win the Battle of the Bands. After announcing the winner on stage (it was Copyright Infringement) we are rushed back to the green room where they hand us our return airline tickets to California. We are told that we did in fact win, because the judges liked our set the best, but the other band was a better fit for their Billboard Music Awards broadcast. At that point we don’t even care. We were thrilled to play our best and be recognized for it. The whole experience was staged.
