TO VENUES & PROMOTERS: WE’RE NOT THAT HARD TO PLEASE — BUT YOU KEEP FAILING THE BASICS

Here’s a reality check from someone who’s done more shows than you’ve had clean dishcloths.

When a band or crew arrives, here’s what we actually notice first:

1. Toilet paper, soap, and a seat.

Yeah. A proper seat. Not the Great Depression of toilet bowls. If I wanted to hover over bacteria and hope for the best, I’d piss behind the van.

2. Clean fruit. Rinsed. Washed.

Not just tossed from a supermarket net into a bowl like a last-minute apology.

3. Towels that have been washed, not “just bought.”

New = full of lint and chemicals. You wouldn’t dry your junk with sandpaper. Neither will we.

4. Water. Enough of it.

One 6-pack of 500ml for 9 people? Cute. Hydration shouldn’t be a rationing game. It’s a tour, not Survivor.

5. A working shower.

If you offer a shower and it’s a cold, rusty, serial-killer chamber… you’re better off saying nothing.

6. Coffee or hot water with actual mugs.

Not a cracked kettle from 1983 and someone’s kid’s Paw Patrol cup. We’re not asking for Starbucks. Just don’t insult us.

7. Chairs. Tables. A place to sit that’s not a beer crate.

Yes, we’ll still sit on a road case if we have to. But maybe don’t make us.

8. Power outlets. Multiplugs.

We’re not here for candlelight vibes. Let the band charge their gear — and their souls — before you ask for social media posts.

9. WiFi that works.

If you offer it, it better work. Don’t give us passwords for networks that haven’t existed since the Nokia era.

10. A staff that says “hi.”

Revolutionary idea: greet your guests. Crew included. This isn’t war. No one’s trying to invade your green room.

Pro tip:

You don’t need to be fancy. Just don’t be disgusting. The small things make or break the show. And trust me — the crew always remembers.

You want repeat business? Respect gets you further than your overpriced sandwiches ever will.

Signed,

Every crew member who’s been through your venue and left with emotional damage.