Fringe Festivals Gave Me a Career

I have been in show business for over twenty years. Because I’m not rich and/or famous, that true statement should be accompanied with a stinky cigarette and a cynical, weathered demeanor. But I quit smoking years ago and my skin has held some elasticity thanks in part to disciplined moisturizing and an unreasonable sense of optimism.

Somehow I’ve made it. I’m not completely sure what I mean by “made it,” but I don’t work at Burger King (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and I’ve managed to pay my bills via artistic endeavors for a good four years now. That isn’t to say it’s all been easy breezy.

The bulk of my career has been a series of near misses, which I suppose might be a disheartening statement, but true nonetheless. Out of all my wild ideas (of which I chase all), I have probably failed 75% of the time. It’s the 25% that I live for. Once in a great while my impossible plans prevail, and it is that small sliver of amazingness that makes all the loss and sacrifice worth it.

Actually that percentage might shift thanks largely to this weird circuit of festivals into which I have meandered. Shortly after my band broke up and my record contract crashed and burned Behind the Music style, I started incorporating storytelling and comedy into my musical performance. Initially I was doing this in sort of a “fuck it this isn’t working anyway” attitude. (It’s funny what one will do when they feel they have nothing to lose—for instance, interrupting a concert with a lengthy story about what a drunk man-baby my ex-boyfriend was.) To my surprise audiences really liked it.

“You should start doing Fringe Festivals,” my manager said after one of these shows.

“What’s a Fringe Festival?”

Then my whole career changed. Now, it’s still a work in progress. I’m currently wrapping up my third full year of a tour schedule that consists mostly of US fringes. The whole thing is barely out of the experimental phase: figuring out which festivals can be lucrative, which ones have a large enough patronage to truly find an audience. But for the first time in my life I feel like I actually am finding it. I’m turning a fan base into ticket sales. You know, like a professional entertainer.

Within the Fringe, there’s a real demographic of people who want to take a chance on someone they have never heard of—someone like me.

And, for me, that wasn’t really happening in the traditional club model. Nightclubs are based around alcohol sales. Certainly there are many acts that go perfectly with booze, but mine wasn’t one of them. I don’t want to be the background soundtrack. I need undivided attention to shine. The Fringe Festivals have given me exactly that.

Within the Fringe, there’s a real demographic of people who want to take a chance on someone they have never heard of—someone like me.

Plus, I’m getting too old for the club shit. Seriously, that scene was wearing me out—a different city every night, smoky, loud, and drunk. Now imagine a mythical land where the artist gets to settle into a town for a couple of weeks. A team of organizers provide accommodations at no cost to the performer. Ticket buyers flock to fill seats.

Well, they don’t always flock. I just got my ass handed to me at the Winnipeg Fringe. But that’s in stark contrast to the Cincinnati Fringe where I sold out nearly all six of my shows. There are still dues to be paid. Lessons to be learned. It’s still showbiz.

Showbiz with a conscience.

My gut tells me that it isn’t “Fringe forever” for this particular guy. It’s an incubator. I’m already starting to hear patrons complain a bit. “You do the same kind of thing every year,” said with a hint of disappointment. Fringe is the arena for the cutting edge—for something never before seen—and I’m developing an act. An act that gets better every year but not necessarily different. My fringe days might be numbered.

But what an incredible launching pad it has been. In many cities where I have fringed frequently, I can now return for a one-night-only sort of thing and fill a room. The Fringe has allowed me to build a reputation, and thus a fan base that I can hopefully nurture beyond the festival scene.