Since the I wish Phil would play an Alembic thread seems to have morphed into a trashing of the house sound guy, I thought I would start a new thread with my anecdote.
My first professional job in audio, was as the house sound guy at New Georges in San Rafael, CA. in 1986. George's was a biker bar that was bought by two retired San Rafael peace officers who wanted to start a music club. They found a local electronics geek who made all kinds of mods to the sound system resulting in unusually great sound, especially the monitor system, very loud and hifi. The local bands used to love to play there, here's why.
The owners had never run a music clup before, and had no clue. They put a hot dog steamer in the backstage band room and would stock it with free hot dogs. Every band member would get one free beer or cocktail. First timers would look longingly at the hot dogs and ask, we can eat those?
The sound system was awesome, and the lead singers could always hear themselves, no matter how loud the drummer was. I was frequently asked to turn down the lead vocals in the singers monitor.
I too, was clueless. I assumed that my role was as a servant to the band, to facilitate the end result of a good mix. From choosing mics, to making the band as comfortable as possible on stage. I was even successful in getting most bands to keep the stage volume under control, cause I could give them a pungent monitor mix. I always started with the channel EQ's flat, and waited til I could hear what they sounded like. It blew my mind that often, outside mixers would come in, and having never heard the room, start dialing in kick and snare eq's from notes on a crumpled piece of paper. I usually managed to keep the FOH mix below the threshold of pain. It was a great place to see a band.
I had a blast. Live mixing 2-3 bands a night was an adventure. I learned so much, about sound, about musicians, about troubleshooting, and I heard some great music. I only had that job for a year and a half, I supposed if I had made a career out of it, I would have lost my naivety and become like most of the soundmen you hear tales of.
