Bridget Leila: venue booker, front woman, and label co-owner
“I don’t like people assuming I don’t know what I’m doing. I know what I’m doing, and I know that I’m good at it.”
Bridget Leila is the band booker for Collingwood pub The Yorkshire Hotel (lovingly known as The Stingo to locals), a co-owner of the label Off Tap Records, and the former front woman of bluesy rock band Balter Vada.
Bridget got into music at a young age, spending hours with her Dad in the family garage listening to old classics and being quizzed on who the guitarist was and who sang backing vocals. Though not many of her friends during high school were into music — “the high school I was at was more focused on academics and sport” — once Bridget started studying a double major in music and business at university she felt that she had finally found her people.
Her first internship during university was working as a booker for The Worker’s Club in Fitzroy. As a band booker, Bridget was responsible for organising the logistics of events, liaising with artists playing at the venue, and making sure the marketing and promotion of gigs went out on time.
Working in the music industry as a female booker can have its challenges though. For many women who study, work, and perform in the music industry, the gender disparity is evident from the start.
“When I studied, I’d say that maybe 80% of the class was male,” says Bridget. We’re sitting in The Stingo’s beer garden next to the stage directly after a brief rain shower. The garden is already full of beer drinkers, and with the fairy lights on above us, the pub feels warm and welcoming.
“When I started out in a band, I would say that 90% of the bookers I was in contact with would be men. It’s a male dominated industry.”
This discrepancy is becoming more noticeable as both men and women in the scene are calling out venues and festivals on their male-only lineups. Some venues and festivals have introduced gender quotas, which are a step in the right direction but can also be dangerous.
“At a certain venue in Melbourne, if you book a night there you have to have at least one female or non-male identifying member in one of the bands in the lineup. It’s great, but it brings in tokenism.
Some mates will just pick the only female fronted band they know. You know that band doesn’t really suit the rest of the line up but they’ve got a quota to fill and it’s easier to say to their friend, ‘Hey, I’ve got this gig. Come play with me.’”
As a booker, Bridget is always aware of this discrepancy and works hard to book bands that are fronted by woman, or have female band members.
“A lot of people look at a female front woman who doesn’t play an instrument as a kind of novelty. They think, ‘Oh, they’re pretty to look at.’ That kind of attitude.
“There’s a band that we booked for our first festival called Hotel 15 Love and the front woman Lulu is absolutely gorgeous. [She] has the voice of an angel.
Being a woman who sings in a band full of men, I can totally understand the difficulties she might have. So I’ve always had the utmost respect for her cause I know what it’s like to be in that position.”
Bridget’s band were together for five years before they decided to move on to a new project called Off Tap Records. Throughout her time in the band, she was constantly assumed to be one of the other band members girlfriends.
“People do talk down to you. I know there’s been instances where I’ve booked a show or I’ve gone to play a show and the sound guys assumption is, ‘You’re one of the girlfriends.’ That pisses me off no end.
“I remember playing with my band and I was helping set up the drum kit and the sound guy comes over and goes ‘Oh sweetie, don’t worry. The girlfriend shouldn’t have to do this, go get a drink from the bar.’
“I was like, bro. I worked at a drum shop for 12 months. I can put a kit together.”
This scenario isn’t uncommon for women working in the music industry. On top of the assumption that women who turn up to music venues are just the girlfriends of band members, many music scenes have a specific set of unspoken expectations that women are supposed to fulfil to be accepted. Whether it’s the need to be seen as “one of the lads” or the pressure to play an instrument to be taken seriously, these expectations can be difficult to push against.
“Growing up working in this industry, it’s moulded the way I talk and the way that I act — to be more assertive — because it can be difficult. It’s definitely made me assert myself more.
“The power suit, that’s usually my go to [because] it makes me feel more powerful; drinking a beer over a vodka raspberry: all little things to assert my dominance. I don’t like people assuming that I don’t know what I’m doing. I know what I’m doing and I’m good at it.”
Despite the kick-back that can come from working as a woman in the music industry, Bridget has found her stride working as a booker.
“I remember I ran a fund raiser on my birthday [at the Stingo] and I had bands playing from 4pm ’til late. I climbed up on the roof and I was looking down at all these people dancing and having the best time and being connected by music and I was like, ‘This is why I do it, this is why I love it.’ There’s no other job in the world that I’d rather be doing right now.”
This interview was produced and written by Jo Elise, and photographed by Dan A’Vard.
