Nikki: A Gatekeeper of Many Things

I have been working the door of Architekt’s music venue for almost two and a half years now. I have played there myself about 3-4 times. Throughout this time I have seen some things that have amused me, many of these things that happen during a show I can’t react to, although I usually would like to, very much. If you want the inside scoop on what it’s like to be the gatekeeper of your friendly neighborhood Architekt, you have come to the right place.

 

First of all, fangirls are the worst. I have never met a fangirl that I have liked. These are the girls that love to ask me what time doors are opening about 30 times. These are the girls that are obsessed with dudes that have 100 likes on their band page and haven’t showered in a week; you can smell the cockiness from a mile away. There are some bands that earn that stench. There are some bands that I look at after the show and I think, hell yeah you flaunt that shit because you’re talented. But far too many times do I have to encounter bands that just sounded absolutely awful and then have girls hanging around praying for a drop of sweat to land on them if they are so lucky. Also, it should be noted that fangirls love neon more than anyone ever should. Beware of these girls because they are not fun.

 

Speaking of neon, the new wave of “hipster fashion” is something that I deal with at almost every show with bands. If done correctly, the hipster look can be flattering and contribute to a bands look, positively. However, if you are wearing vans with deliberate holes in them, Christmas pajama bottoms, face paint, and a DIY cut-off Nirvana shirt; please stop. There is a major difference between being cool quirky, and being weird quirky, and that line is not to be crossed unless you are David Bowie or have an actual fan-base.

 

It’s also a funny thing when fans become selectively illiterate. The venue signs have “no re-entry” clearly spelled out about 8 times in two separate places, but a magical blindness comes over people when these signs are present. I have been offered money,  asked to keep silent about it, I have also been yelled at and called names. But at the end of the day, you’re the 49-year-old man with an anger problem, and I’m the short but unshakeable gatekeeper. The people that have the most difficultly with the rules are musicians’ parents and girlfriends. There isn’t one concert that I can get through without hearing, “but I’m so-and-so’s girlfriend” or “but I’m so-and-so’s mother”. I’m sorry, I apologize, please do whatever you please because there are no rules for you.

 

In addition to everything that’s going on at the entrance door of the venue, there are many more crimes that occur on stage. Here are some tips;  A triangle is never something that should be played on it’s own. An acoustic show means all instruments are acoustic. If you hold the microphone like a wild man, it will cause feedback. Your amp needs to be at a reasonable volume before being run through the PA system. If you can’t harmonize, please don’t. Everyone knows you don’t really have Laryngitis, but good try. Lastly, stop covering, “Wonderwall”.

 

Working at a music venue can test your patience, often. But, a drunk band manager once told me, “kid, you’ve got the best job” and he was 100% right. I know I have a sick job, I love my job. Everything that I see during the night gives me a story to tell the next morning. No matter how many weird things I see, or how many people frustrate me, I laugh it off because it’s never a boring night at work. I get paid to listen to music, I think I can deal with a few nut-jobs in the process.

 

PR Passion: Job or Vocation?

Our first contributed post comes from Jamie Brooks, a PR specialist at Buffalo Communications in Washington, D.C. Jamie’s versatile skill set has helped her develop into a five tool player, taking on a multifaceted role at one of the most prestigious boutique sports PR firms in the country.  Jamie is also a newlywed with a baby on the way!

A few weeks ago, we interviewed a candidate for an entry-level position on my team. As I sat across the conference room evaluating this person for the position, I was reminded of myself and many of my fellow graduates a few years prior. Not because this particular candidate had similar prior experiences, but because of the young, vibrant attitude that was behind every word. She was energized, smart and fearless.

Let me take step back for a second. I’m having a baby. This huge, life-changing event has made me incredibly aware of my life decisions and career path. It’s also, in some ways, had me doubting my choice to study and work in PR. Shocking, because I pretty much live and breathe PR/Integrated Communications. I’m enthralled with it, yet I find myself doubting the very core of the industry. And here’s why:

For the past four years, I’ve lived and breathed Sport PR and marketing, specifically golf. For the most part, I’ve loved it. I work for a boutique agency that is the leader within the golf industry. I’ve had the opportunity to handle media relations, trade show coordination, desk side meetings and strategy, while also playing a role in our company’s digital strategy team, training new employees, troubleshooting technical issues and providing general office support. In short, I’ve played a part in every element of our company, down to managing our media library and (at one point) leading the graphic design team. I’ve learned a lot and contributed more to the success of this firm.

But lately, in my pre-baby craziness, I question what I’m doing with my life, asking myself “is this really what I’ve decided to do?”

Any PR professional will tell you about the long hours, crazy priority changes and sometimes overwhelming nature of the work. Particularly with media relations, we dedicate hours of research, pitching and strategy, and walk away with no immediate results that peak a client’s interest. It becomes extremely frustrating and isn’t always rewarding.

But back to the interview.  As I sat there listening, I was reminded of a passion that I carried with me in my own interview almost exactly four years prior; a spark, that while still inside, had slowly started to fade in the mess of life changes. Listening to this candidate talk about the desire to learn more and grow in the field was empowering. I actually walked out of that interview feeling better about myself and my career than I did walking in. In that hour, I was able to answer the question I’ve been posing for a few months.

Is this really what I’ve decided to do?

The answer is yes. I choose to do this work and this job because the passion that fuels every PR/marketing professional — regardless of field of study or industry of practice – is a spark that ignites and empowers their work ethic. A passion for the work they do and companies/brands/products/etc. they represent.