I have a fraught relationship with Pittsburgh. It’s where I was born and spent the first sixteen years of my life. When people ask me where I come from, sometimes (when the Steelers are winning?) I come right out and say it. Other times, it’s too complicated. I didn’t get a driver’s license until I’d moved away, so I barely know my way around. I didn’t play music until several years after I left so I can’t really call myself a Pittsburgh artist.
Except when I have a gig here goddammit. And then the whole town should celebrate me, right? I mean, Andy Warhol left when he was twenty one or so and they built him a whole museum!
But the promoter for our show in the `burgh this Tuesday, July 7, couldn’t even be bothered to put us in their ad. They’ve got things going on in August, in September, in nice bold letters in their big half page ad in the weekly paper, but not us.
Years ago, there was a club called the Electric Banana here. Legend has it, the promoter kept a gun in his desk and if he thought your set was too short, he’d take it out and wave it around until you got back up on stage.
It makes me nostalgic for a time I never actually knew myself, when promoters cared so much. Now they book fifty shows a month in so many venues they can’t keep track of who’s playing where. If a couple shows do well, good. The rest of the acts will just have to get by some other way.
Who will know about the show? We had someone doing publicity but it’s barely in the local listings. I’ve tried with the local radio and they’ve always been supportive but they must have other things going on. And today, in the local paper, they list us as playing on Sunday. I just double-checked and we are definitely playing at Club Cafe this Tuesday, July 7 at 7 PM.
If anyone reading this resides in what is actually a really lovely, interesting city with some of the friendliest folks in the USA, please spread the word. I don’t want to be too depressed to not bother coming back.