Peter Gabriel and Sting at Milwaukee's Summerfest

When I saw Peter Gabriel and Sting perform at the Marcus Amphitheater in ’87 and ’88, respectively, to imagine seeing them perform together 29 years later with my adult twin girls (and my sister!) in attendance would have been way too bizarre to contemplate. I could barely be expected to attend class on a regular basis much less successfully raise two children (and now very close on the third). How cool that both musicians are still around on tour, but cooler still that they managed to pull off a very entertaining and fulfilling show as a double bill. It could have been oh so lame, but it was anything but.

Though the stars shared the number of songs performed, I couldn’t help but think that this was a Peter Gabriel show with Sting in tow, and I have to give credit to Mr. Sumner for being such a gracious musician on stage. Gabriel opened with “Rhythm of the Heat,” a track I never expected to hear live in my lifetime, and the power exhibited during the finale of the tune was such that even Sting’s powerhouse “If I Ever Lose My Faith In You” that followed sounded thin by comparison. That’s not a knock on Sting. That’s a recognition that when it comes to majestic, heartfelt performances, Gabriel likely has no equal. 

Following the two opening numbers, Gabriel, after a joking reference to the body shapes of the two singers (yeah, Sting wins, and beats just about every male in attendance), announced that the bands and the stars themselves would commingle throughout the evening. Up to fourteen musicians graced the stage, with several staying put for most of the show while others exited and entered or combined, and not always with allegiance to their usual band. From where I was sitting, I at first thought that Sting was handling all the bass parts, but then from behind a large pole that obstructed part of the stage, I saw the unmistakable silhouette of Tony Levin as Gabriel began 1992’s “Digging in the Dirt,” and my girls were equally thrilled to see David Rhodes, the guitarist they loved watching on the Secret World Live DVD that was on constant rotation during much of their early childhood.

Sting surprisingly eschewed much of his stronger solo tracks in favor of his Police catalog, focusing on several deeper cuts, including “Invisible Sun,” “Driven to Tears” “Englishman In New York,”and “Walking in your Footsteps,” and as cool as it was to hear those songs, when held up against Gabriel’s “Red Rain,” “San Jacinto” and “Secret World,” they didn't have the same impact. All told, only six Sting solo numbers were performed, with Gabriel taking the reins on a Beck-inspired “If You Love Somebody Set Them Free.” It would have been cool to hear a few others (“I Hung My Head,” anyone?), but again, to Sting’s credit, he leaned on several tunes that he knew would please the crowd, including the overplayed but still pretty damn fun “Message in a Bottle,” and “Roxanne,” the latter morphing into a lovely verse of the Bill Withers tune, “Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone,” the only song not penned by either of the evening’s stars.

The most surprising inclusion of the night was Sting’s brief cover of “Dancing with the Moonlit Knight,” a track from the Peter Gabriel-led Genesis catalog that the original singer has avoided for decades. I find it odd that Gabriel is unwilling to give a gentle nod to his prog-rock past while still playing old songs like “Solsbury Hill” and “Games Without Frontiers,” but oh well, Sting took it upon himself to get the job done!

As strong as most of performances were, the weakest tune of the evening by far was Gabriel's "Love Can Heal," a new track written for the recently slain Jo Cox. Perhaps this tune would have worked better in a different setting, but to me it simply isn't a good song, and I also found it interesting that Gabriel played not one note from his album Up, another example of how underwhelming the exceedingly nonprolific composer's songs have been since his album Us.

I admit I was moved to tears during two numbers: first, the booming climax of “San Jacinto,” the song Gabriel opened up with when I saw him back in 1987 as a wee 19 year-old, the same age my daughters will be in a month’s time – this was simply too much for me to handle; and then again on the climax of “Don’t Give Up,” a song I don’t particularly care for, and yet again, the song conjured up a complexity of emotions that went way beyond the song itself.  Perspective matters with these things.  Hearing Paul McCartney sing “Yesterday” means so much more today than it meant three decades ago, and a sixty-six year old Gabriel singing “Whatever may come/and whatever may go/That river’s flowing” meant more to this nearly-fifty year-old writer last night than it did in 1987.

That river’s flowing, indeed.

Live Performing Woes, part 2

A few weeks ago I wrote about how performing live music – and industry already on life-support – is additional burdened by restaurant and club owners having to pay royalty fees  to musicians who are already rich and – more and more often – dead. I spoke with a musician last week who said that back in the 80s a good musician would have to be paid a minimum of $250 just to hold a Saturday night. That’s no longer the case.  Save for the big acts, live music earns a fraction of what it used to earn, and the strict enforcement of music licensing fees aren’t helping matters.

Or perhaps I have it wrong. I received a number of terrific comments for musicians and non-musicians alike, and the take away for me is that not everyone agrees with my conclusions and even those who do aren’t sure how to rectify the problem. 

One reader questioned whether small establishments are being paranoid to think that the big music publishing organizations are really going to charge fees for not following the rules. I wish that were the case, but unfortunately there are well-publicized examples of restaurants and clubs getting hit with fees from ASCAP, BMI and the like.

A friend of mine shared this little tidbit: a coffee house here in Elmhurst no longer allows musicians to play cover songs because they find paying the ASCAP fees prohibitive.  Another musician said that his band once had to change its playbill from “rock and roll covers of your favorite bands” to “live music” (or something equally generic) because of concerns of music licensing fees.

Other musicians noted how unfairly stacked the music industry is against the “little guy,” not only when it comes to live performing, but in the realm of downloads, streams and radio play.  As he says, “more opportunities equals harder to track,” and companies like ASCAP and BMI definitely have their hands full when it comes to figuring out how to collect fees for all of the different mediums out there. I couldn’t agree more. I believe that listening to a recording should garner income. I’m not as convinced about live performing, nor was this reader. After all, imagine if the Top Ten Club in Hamburg or the Cavern Club in Liverpool had been hounded by music royalty collection firms. Would The Beatles have been able to make a go of it?

But perhaps this view is erroneous, because it’s based on an entirely different system. One reader commented that back in the day everyone was working together: musicians would pay the union, the union would ensure that musicians were being paid properly, the clubs paid fees to the publishing companies, and people paid for live music. Today, people don’t want to pay for music unless it’s big time acts, and therefore club owners don’t want to pay fees (or musicians). This person wrote: “If successful songwriters remembered what it was like to play songs they loved for peanuts and (if) record companies kicked a little more back to the writer/artist they wouldn’t feel the need to squeeze as much as possible out of the everyday live musicians.”

But the model of people paying for music is “dead and buried,” lamented another reader. The songs are now “the fuel for the touring engine” whereas several decades ago the reverse was true. Fewer people are playing out on the weekends and they are earning less than ever, so the music collection companies must really be desperate to go after the little guys.

Another reader wrote that “both the bar and performers make money from playing music someone else wrote,” and he understands why fees should be collected. He does feel that the fees are out of proportion with the income that’s being generated, however. Another reader agreed, stating that “others should not be free to profit off your work without some remuneration to the owner,” but was at a loss as to how the current model can be changed.  He thought perhaps some percentage of total revenue generated from covering music should be paid as music royalties.

These were all welcome comments, and though I might wish that today’s business model were similar to that of decades ago, the time of musicians, music unions and clubs all working together to give patrons a quality live performance are largely gone. It all comes back to the consumer: if people aren’t willing to pay for recorded music and if they aren’t willing to pay a cover for a live band, then the whole system breaks down. What remains is a poor replacement. Good musicians – and some really, really bad ones, too – are being paid poorly for club owners who are probably being paid poorly but who still have to pay fees for already-wealthy musicians who no longer make money off of their old catalog because consumers are downloading it for free.

Say it with me: “Oy!”