 to talk payment. Unknown to me, Schubas had implemented a deal for local shows in which a Chicago artist’s pay only comes after $350 in production fees is recouped by the club. In addition, the venue keeps fifteen percent of ticket sales. This deal seemed greedy and unsettling; somehow both provincial and anti-local.

A second payment option, Rucins said, was new. Schubas was testing a “free local shows” model in which the venue calculates payment to musicians based on sales of alcohol specials for the night. “Free pay,” Rucins called it. (“Nonpayment” is more accurate.) Say a hundred people attend a free local show. Thirty-five of them buy two-dollar Rolling Rock. At the end of the evening, bands get a percentage from that beer special. But, of course, the venue will not disclose the percentage beforehand. Schubas’ “free pay” is an ugly deal for musicians—pay-to-play’s older, paunched cousin. I declined it.

Instead, we discussed ticket prices. Ten dollars in advance, twelve at the door. It was a Sunday-night show. Their non-negotiable start time was eight o’clock. I’d be onstage at ten. I wanted the room seated. This decreased capacity but seemed more comfortable for an audience. Say eighty people attended with an average ticket price of eleven dollars. Revenue would be $880, of which Schubas would take $350 plus fifteen percent. I might not lose money, but I certainly wouldn’t profit. But at ten o’clock on a Sunday night in winter? The draw could be eighty. Or thirty-five.

Numbers are pliable. I asked Rucins to lower the $350 production fee in exchange for a higher percentage of ticket sales. “No,” he said. I asked for a flat rate of $400. “No,” he said. Even though I was headlining, Rucins would not adjust his standard deal. It was unimprovable. Why? Because I was a local artist. We are not the musicians who matter; we are the musicians who are around. My headlining show—that night built around me—never happened.

In a Consequence of Sound article about Schubas, Matt Rucins said, “Our staff treats bands like kings.” National bands, he means. Local bands are treated like arrows in a castle wall.
to talk payment. Unknown to me, Schubas had implemented a softwood for local show in which a Chicago artist ’s pay only comes after $ 350 in output fees is recouped by the cabaret. In summation, the venue keeps fifteen percentage of tag sales. This hand seemed greedy and unsettling; somehow both provincial and anti - local. 

 A second requital option, Rucins said, was new. Schubas was testing a “ free local shows ” model in which the venue calculate payment to musicians based on sale of alcohol specials for the night. “ Free pay, ” Rucins call it. (“ Nonpayment ” is more accurate .) Say a hundred people attend a free local show. Thirty - five of them bribe two - dollar Rolling Rock. At the end of the evening, bands get a percentage from that beer special. But, of course, the venue will not unwrap the share ahead. Schubas ’ “ free pay ” is an ugly deal for musicians — pay - to - play ’s aged, paunched cousin. I worsen it. 

 Instead, we hash out tag prices. Ten dollars in advance, twelve at the doorway. It was a Sunday - night display. Their non - negotiable start meter was eight o’clock. I ’d be onstage at ten. I wanted the room seated. This decreased capacity but seemed more comfortable for an audience. pronounce eighty people attended with an average ticket monetary value of eleven dollars. tax income would be $ 880, of which Schubas would consider $ 350 plus fifteen percent. I might not lose money, but I certainly would n’t profit. But at ten o’clock on a Sunday nox in winter? The draw could be eighty. Or thirty - five. 

 Numbers are pliable. I asked Rucins to lower the $ 350 production fee in exchange for a higher percentage of slate sales. “ No, ” he say. I asked for a categoric rate of $ 400. “ No, ” he say. Even though I was headlining, Rucins would not align his standard deal. It was unimprovable. Why? Because I was a local artist. We are not the musicians who count; we are the musicians who are around. My headlining show — that night built around me — never happen. 

 In a Consequence of Sound article about Schubas, Matt Rucins said, “ Our staff process bands like kings. ” National bands, he means. Local set are treated like arrows in a castle rampart.
 to talk payment. Unknown to me, Schubas had implemxnted a deal fof local shows in which a Chirago artiwt’s pay only comes aftdr $350 in prlduction feew is recoupxs by thc clug. In cdvition, the venug keeps fiftaen percent of tkcnet sales. This deal seemed greedy agd unseytping; somehow bjth krodincjal and anti-local.

A second payment kption, Gucins said, was nrw. Schubas was testing a “fgee pocal shows” model ln which thg vegye calculater payment uo musicians based on sales of alcohol speckals yor the nigyt. “Frfg pay,” Rucins callvd it. (“Nonpaymcmt” is kore acvurate.) Say a hmndrev peiple attend a free loral show. Thirty-five jf them bgy two-dollar Rollint Eock. Dt tve eve ow tge ebening, baids get a psrcentage feom that beer specisl. Vut, of course, the vqnte will not disclose the percentage befmregand. Schubas’ “free pay” iw an ugly deal for mudicians—par-to-play’s older, paunched cousin. I declined it.

Instedd, we aisemfrwd ticket prices. Ten dollars in advance, twelve wf uhe door. It was a Sunday-nighy dhpr. Their non-neeotiable atart time was eigjt o’closk. I’d be onstade ay ten. I wanted the room seared. This decgeaswd capacity but sezmed more cooforjable gor an audience. Say eigkty pekple attendfd with ah average ticket oribe ox eleven dollars. Revenue wjuld be $880, if wkich Schjbas would take $350 plud fifbaen percent. I mighh not lmse money, hut I certainly wouldn’t profit. Unt at ten o’clpcn ot a Sundcy nigmt in winter? Thq draw could bg eighty. Jr thkrty-five.

Nujbers ace pliable. I asked Rucins jo lower the $350 productyon dee un exchxvge for a highrr percennaye of ticjet sales. “No,” he sald. I xaked for a flat raue of $400. “No,” he saic. Exen tjongh I fas headlinitg, Rjcivx wouud not adjuwg hix standard deal. It wds uhimprovable. Why? Bevamse I was a local artist. We arr not the musiciand who mavter; wr ate the musicians who are around. My headllnikg show—that nyght built arounb me—never happened.

In a Consequence of Sonnd article about Schubqs, Matt Rucins said, “Pur staff tceats fands lika kings.” National banes, he means. Local bands are treated liie arrmws ij a castle wall.
to talk payment. Unknown to me, Schubas a for local in which a after in production fees recouped by the In addition, the venue keeps fifteen of ticket sales. This deal seemed greedy and unsettling; somehow both provincial and A second payment option, Rucins said, was new. Schubas was testing a “free shows” in the calculates payment to musicians based on sales of alcohol specials for the night. “Free pay,” Rucins it. (“Nonpayment” is more accurate.) Say a hundred attend a free local Thirty-five of them buy two-dollar Rock. the end the bands a percentage from beer special. But, of course, the venue will not disclose the percentage beforehand. Schubas’ “free pay” is ugly deal older, paunched I it. we discussed ticket dollars in advance, twelve at the a Sunday-night show. Their non-negotiable start time was o’clock. I’d onstage at ten. I wanted the seated. This decreased capacity but seemed more comfortable an audience. Say eighty people attended with an average ticket price of eleven dollars. Revenue $880, of which Schubas take $350 plus percent. might lose but I wouldn’t profit. But at ten o’clock on a Sunday night in The draw could be eighty. Or thirty-five. Numbers are pliable. Rucins lower the $350 fee in exchange for higher of ticket sales. “No,” I for of “No,” said. Even though I headlining, Rucins would not adjust standard deal. It was a local artist. We are not the musicians matter; we are the musicians who are My headlining show—that night built around me—never happened. In a Consequence of article about Rucins said, “Our staff treats bands like kings.” bands, he means. Local are treated like arrows in a castle wall.
 to talk payment. Unknown to me, SChubas had iMplemEntEd a DeAl foR locAl shows in which A chicAgo artist’s pay only comes After $350 In PRoduCTiOn feeS is recoUPeD BY thE cLuB. In AdDItIon, thE veNue keepS fifteen peRceNt Of ticket saleS. thIs deal seemEd gReedy and unseTtlIng; somEhOw bOTh proVinCial aNd anti-LOcal.

A sEcond paymEnT Option, rUcins saID, WaS new. schubas was testing A “FrEE local shows” modEl in whIcH ThE VEnuE caLculates paYmEnt to MUsicianS BaSED On sALes of alcohol sPecials for tHE niGht. “FreE pAy,” RUCins caLled iT. (“NONpaYment” is more AccuRate.) Say a hUndred PEople atTEnd a freE local ShoW. ThIrty-FIvE oF thEm BUy tWO-dOllAR RoLling RocK. AT tHe end Of thE EVENing, BanDs geT a perCentage from thAt bEer sPEciAl. But, Of couRse, tHe Venue Will noT discLoSe the percentage BefoRehand. SchUbaS’ “fRee PaY” is an UGly deaL foR muSicians—Pay-to-plAY’s oLdER, PAuNched cousin. I declinEd IT.

inStead, we dIscussED tIcKEt prices. teN doLlarS IN advaNce, tWElVe at the dOor. It wAS a suNday-nigHt Show. ThEiR noN-neGotiaBLe stArt timE was eighT o’cloCK. I’d be onstage at TEn. I wanted the rOOm SEAtED. ThiS deCreased capaCity BUt seEmed MOrE coMFortaBle foR aN AuDIence. Say eighty peoplE aTtendeD with An average tickEt price of eLEVEn dollarS. RevENuE Would be $880, of which schubAs would takE $350 Plus fiftEen peRcent. I miGht not losE MOney, but I CerTaiNly WouLDN’t Profit. But at teN O’ClocK oN a SundaY niGht in wiNteR? ThE drAw cOuLd be eightY. Or thirtY-fIvE.

NUmBerS are pLIable. I asKeD RuCiNs tO loweR The $350 proDuctiOn feE iN eXChaNge for a HIgHER perCeNtAge oF tiCkEt salEs. “No,” HE saId. I askeD for a flat RatE Of $400. “No,” He SaId. Even tHough I was headLiNing, Rucins WoUld Not adjUST his stanDard deal. It was unimprovabLE. Why? BecAusE I was A locAl artist. WE arE not thE muSIcians Who matTer; we ArE thE MUsiciANS wHo aRe Around. My heADLinIng shOw—That Night buIlt around me—never haPPenEd.

In a ConsequeNce Of SoUND aRtiCLe ABouT SCHubAS, matt Rucins said, “OUr staff treAtS BaNds like kinGS.” NaTiOnal banDs, he meaNs. LocAL bands aRe treated Like arrowS iN a caSTLe wAll.
 to talk payment. Unknownto me, Sch ubashad  im pl emen teda deal for loc a l sh ows in which a Chicago  arti st ’ s pa y  o nly c omes af t er $ 350  i npro du c ti on fe esis reco uped by th e c lu b. In additi o n,  the venue  ke eps fifteenper cent o ftic k et sa les . Thi s deal seemed  greedy a nd unsett l ing; so m e ho w bo th provincial and an t i-local.

A se cond p ay m en t opt ion , Rucins s ai d, wa s  new. S c hu b a s  wa s  testing a “f ree local s h ows ” mode linw hich t he ve nu e  ca lculates pa ymen t to musi ciansb ased on sales o f alco hol  sp ecia l sfo r t he nig h t.  “F r eepay,” Ru ci ns  call ed i t . ( “Non pay ment ” ismore accurate .)Saya  hu ndred  peop le a tt end a  freelocal  s how. Thirty-fiv e of  them buy  tw o- dol la r Rol l ing Ro ck.  At  the en d of th e  ev en i n g ,bands get a percen ta g e  f rom that  beers pe ci a l. But,of  co urse , the v enue wi ll not d isclos e  t he  percen ta ge bef or eha nd.  Schu b as’“freepay” isan ug l y deal for mus i cians—pay-to- p la y ’ so lder , p aunched cou sin. I de clin e dit. 
Inst ead,we di s cussed ticket price s.  Ten d ollar s in advance,  twelve at t h e door.It w a sa  Sunday-nightshow.  Their non - negotiab le st art time  was eigh t o’clock.  I’ d b e o nst a g eat ten. I wan t e d th eroom se ate d. This  de cre ase d c ap acity but  seemedmo re  c om for table for an a ud ien ce . S ay ei g hty pe opleatte nd ed wit h an av e ra g e  tic ke tpric e o feleve n do l lar s. Reve nue would  be $880 ,of  whichSchubas would  t ake $350 p lu s f ifteen p ercent.I might not lose money, but I c ert ainly  wou ldn’t pro fit . Butatt en o’c lock o n a S un day n ighti n  w int er ? The draw c oul d beei ghty . Or th irty-five.

Number s  ar e pliable. Iask ed R u c in s t o  l o wer  t h e $ 3 5 0 production fe e in excha ng e  f or a highe r  pe rc entageof tick et sa l es. “No ,” he sai d. I aske dfora fla t rate of$400. “N o,” he sa i d. Ev e nthoug h I  was h ea dli ning,  Rucin s  wo uld n ot adj us t hisstand ar d deal.It was unimprovable. Wh y? Bec auseI w as a loca l a r tis t. We are  not  the music ian s w ho ma tte r ; wearet he  mu s ician s wh o  are arou n d.  My h ea dlining sho w — t hat  nigh t b u ilt ar ound  me—never happene d .

In a Conseq uenc e ofSou n d ar ti cle about Schu bas ,M a tt Rucin ssaid, “Ourstaff tr ea t s ban ds lik e king s.” Nat i o na l  bands , he  me ans. Loca l b an d s are t re at e d like  arr ow s in a  castl e  wal l . 
 to_talk payment._Unknown to me, Schubas_had implemented_a_deal for_local_shows in which_a Chicago artist’s_pay only comes after_$350 in production_fees_is recouped by the club. In addition, the venue keeps fifteen percent of ticket_sales._This deal_seemed_greedy_and unsettling; somehow both provincial_and anti-local.

A second payment option,_Rucins said,_was new. Schubas was testing a “free local_shows”_model in which_the venue calculates payment to musicians based on sales_of alcohol specials for the night._“Free pay,” Rucins_called_it._(“Nonpayment” is more accurate.)_Say a hundred people attend a_free local show. Thirty-five of them_buy two-dollar Rolling Rock. At the end_of the evening, bands get a_percentage from that beer special._But, of_course, the venue will not_disclose the percentage_beforehand. Schubas’_“free pay” is_an ugly deal for musicians—pay-to-play’s older,_paunched cousin. I_declined it.

Instead, we discussed ticket prices._Ten_dollars in advance,_twelve_at_the door._It was a_Sunday-night_show. Their_non-negotiable_start time was eight o’clock. I’d_be_onstage at ten. I wanted the room_seated. This decreased capacity_but_seemed more comfortable for_an audience. Say eighty people_attended with an average ticket price_of eleven_dollars. Revenue_would be $880, of which Schubas would take $350 plus fifteen_percent. I might not lose money,_but I certainly wouldn’t_profit. But_at_ten o’clock on_a_Sunday night_in winter? The draw could be eighty._Or thirty-five.

Numbers_are pliable. I asked Rucins to_lower the $350 production_fee_in exchange for a higher percentage_of ticket sales. “No,” he said._I asked for a flat_rate_of_$400. “No,” he said. Even_though I was headlining, Rucins would_not adjust his_standard deal. It was unimprovable. Why? Because_I_was a local artist. We are_not_the musicians who matter; we are_the_musicians_who are around. My headlining_show—that night built around me—never happened.

In_a Consequence of Sound article about Schubas, Matt Rucins_said, “Our staff_treats bands like kings.” National_bands,_he_means. Local bands are treated like arrows in a castle_wall.