Tribes...

I'm a bearded man. Just putting it out there for those of you who haven't glanced up at the profile picture, or those who did and just assumed I'd lifted a shot from a serial killer fan-site. Bearded men in Australia, perhaps world wide, seem to own membership of a covert society made up exclusively of the facially hirsute. I like to call it the fraternity of bearded men.

As I ordered my coffee this morning at 'Fundamentals' in Byron Bay the magnificently bearded man serving me enthusiastically embraced my company. This brother from another mother saw in my beard a kindred spirit and I felt included. Then on the bus out to Bluesfest day two Rory from Brisbane complemented my beard as he enthusiastically related his struggles to grow and integrate a beard into his own life.

Beards everywhere and I felt myself in the eye of a bearded storm!

Now many people would acknowledge football fandom as the Australian tribe most identified with. Walk into a pub within a team's geographical footprint and you'd better be fan of the wherever lions or the hereabouts crows. Failure to be a local fan or worse to support the opposition will at least garner disapprobation, at worst a swift blow to the head.

'The Beards' with me right of stage!

But I'm not sure football fandom is really tribal in the same sense as beardom. Once a week football fans don the colours and go a little mad. The rest of the time they resume their lives and pass through life unobserved. But communities do not rest, tribes do not disperse to offices come Monday and the bearded wear their tribal brand everywhere they go.

Australian band 'The Beards' epitomise the tribal camaraderie that is beardom. They sing of triumph and desire in 'I'm in the mood, for beards!' but also of the discrimination faced by bearded men and women in 'This beard stays'. And really that is the essence of any tribe.  

You may have your society of secret handshakes, winks and nods but have you spent even a fortnight growing a decent beard? Tribes require an initiation. You will know when you are welcomed; women or men you've never met will smile, stop you and chat because you are kin. 

But never forget your beardless past! We all long to belong, crave the acceptance of our peers. No one deserves to stand, chin bare, against the cold alone. Because belonging is a privilege, and one we should extend to all our beardless brethren. Fully one half of the planet's population can't grow beards and yet without them no beard would ever exist!

Having a beard gives us a responsibility; to extend the warmth we feel with everyone we meet. Let no one miss the warmth of our embrace, or the rash of our pash!

Plus c'est le meme chose...

Warning! Strong opinions and broad, sweeping statements ahead.

When I wrote a week ago about my sadness and bittersweet hopes for Sydney's live music scene I was yet to re-integrate myself into the sweaty, noisy melange of pub music. In my head the schooners were fresh(ish) and the crowd were noisy, enthusiastic, maybe even dancing. On Sunday I checked out a gig that got me rethinking my whole approach and reinforcing that you get what you pay for.

Firstly I'm going to plug the muso, because although the afternoon was a shambles Donavon Frankenreiter put in a solid performance and it was through no fault of his that... you know what we'll get to my rant all in good time.

The deal was simple: free gig as brought to you by popular beer company seeking cachet in a sympathetic demographic. Couldn't be simpler and I was sold on the price but if I'd stopped and thought about it for a minute I might have come up with this...

Where's the incentives for everyone in this whole deal?

The venue is looking to the crowd; they garner an international headliner who is sure to draw the punters at little to no cost. It's a one off drawcard for an already popular Sunday arvo. Throw in the drinks, as put on by the sponsor and why try harder? Chances are (if I'd thought about it) the place will be too crowded, with local gronks and poorly ventilated. It's in the venues interest to get as many in as they possibly can.

The promotor is looking at their product. For a lot of gigs that's the music but here the music was just the gateway to 'where you'd rather be'. Once the crowd were in the mission statement was to sell them some beer. That means drinks promotions, giveaways and plenty of time to get to the bar. Chances are they'll spend more money putting up point of sale material than making sure the sound system is adequate and they're not going to care if the gig starts late; that's just more time to drink.

Now the crowd were the wildcard. They had it all put on for them: great show, cheap drinks, beachside location, all they had to do was turn up. It was too easy! When you give away something for free though it's very difficult to expect people to value it highly.

When I buy tickets to a gig I'm usually shelling out fifty to one hundred dollars, even a local club gig can cost twenty dollars on the door. Inside everyone is excited about the music; they've come out, paid big, a hush falls as the band comes out then everybody cheers! People are there coz want to listen to some music.

A free gig? People might listen if they get bored but otherwise they've got their mates to catch up with. One girl found her friends at the tab in front of us, turned her back to the band and at one point I think she said something like "who's the rude guy playing his guitar over our conversation"!

So if I'd thought about it I might have guessed that the room would be crowded and stuffy, the gig would start late, the sound would be crap with everyone talking over the music. And it was.

Take home message: pay for the music you care about. People don't care about free stuff, they throw it in the top drawer and forget about it. With free, or almost free, music becoming ubiquitous through the 'net its value as a primary (not background) source of entertainment is diminishing. Spending even a few dollars at the door is your guarantee that the people you are listening with care about the band.

I hope free gigs continue in pubs across Sydney and I hope some of the local bands out there get even half the crowd I saw on Sunday. When I head out though I'm going to remember my free gig lesson and be far more willing to shell out at the door for a night with fellow fans...