On event organisers or music venues letting artists down.
I make a lot of effort to promote my gigs, and I sometimes feel like the event organisers aren't there with me, they aren't putting in as much effort as I am. It works both ways. I've had a lot of organisers say to me how much they appreciate the work I've put in because they put in so much work. That's when it works. When both sides see the benefit in promotion.
Often people take for granted that this is my job, even venues when they say "I can't really pay you." It's ridiculous. It's my job and I love doing it, but I'm also needing to eat. For me it's about trying to find the balance of doing stuff and staying with it for the love and the joy of it, and being more firm and saying "Yes I want to play and you need to pay me." I feel like we're a bit under-appreciated as musicians in this country, especially folk musicians. There are so many that are willing to do it for free that it's really hard to charge some times. That's something I actually want to address in this country, to get together a group of people who have the power to communicate with all the venues and all the musicians that it is not okay to do stuff for free.
"It's my job and I love doing it, but I'm also needing to eat."
A new outlook
I wrote that
post when I had just started the tour and November had been a really tight month financially. I was having so much fun. I played so many gigs and I was collaborating with so many insanely good musicians. And yet the money wasn't really rolling in. So when I came on this tour I kind of needed the cash. I arrived at my first gig and there was not a poster up, not a sign. I could see instantly that the gig wasn't going to happen.
The next day I drove to Grahamstown and this guy at a backpackers had specifically called me and said please come and play here. I arrived and again, no signs up, you could tell there had been no promotion. There were ten people there. I made less than two hundred rand at the gig. That was when I wrote the blog post. I was at that point of "can I keep doing this?" I was really depressed about it. I started getting really lovely messages from people around how much support I have and how much people believe in what I'm doing, and how they're inspired and want to be a part of it. It made me realise that even though I may not have much money right now, I have a whole bunch of really good stuff going on in my life. I think I get trapped in futures some times, and the idea that I have to know that I'm going to be okay. Whatever I need is happening already. I don't need to actually push it.
Since then I've played some cool gigs coming up to Durban for the Drake Festival (Drake Fest was a great gig). I'm really glad that I turned myself around. It meant that I wasn't reliant on my situation for my contentment.
Building a brand around the music.
I'm very anti massive corporations. They've lost all sense of humanity, and what humanity is and what humanity is striving towards. It's become about turning humans into buyers. Brands can be for the greater good as well. There's a brand that's started in cape town called F.L.OW. Fans for love of water. Their whole thing is about inspiring people to realise that we're all made of the same stuff, which is water, and that water is extremely valuable to us. They're doing beautiful stuff and they're got a brand and they're pushing it. I am working on a brand. It's quite an organic growth, because I don't have the money to pay for the design. One of my best friends is actually getting me a lot of attention based on her work (since she designs my posters, and is designing my new E.P. cover). I'm really honoured to be working with her (Soult Design).
On touring alone.
I've always had this balance of introvert and extrovert. When I'm with people and playing music I love it. At the same time I do love my space. I love being alone. I can make a choice in an instant that affects only me. I can also just think and sit, and listen to music. Aloneness is an important thing. I think a lot of people freak out about being alone, and I think they need to look at why they're freaking out (laughs).
Writing material on the road.
Last time I was away I was writing a song about a girl I was missing in cape town, and this time I made a decision not to focus on writing so much for at least a few months. I've written about 9 songs this year, and I haven't finished with them, so I want to consolidate what I've got, and continue working on my E.P.
The upcoming E.P.
I did my national tour of six weeks, a few months ago. I played at the White Mountain Folk Festival. What was amazing to me was that one of my songs which isn't on the album (the album, "The Wild Land"), was the most popular song. I did it as an encore. I wasn't even sure about playing it. After that, every time I play that song people just say, "Where is it? We need it." It's a song called "Puzzle Pieces". So there have been a few songs I wrote this year. I really wanted to get them onto an E.P., because people keep asking for them.
Why folk music?
I like the gentle way it comes at you. I definitely feel vibrated by heavy music. After a while I can feel my energy shifting. On a very scientific level, everything is just molecules vibrating at different frequencies. Folk music doesn't ever feel overwhelming to me. It just feels soothing.
The most important historical influence.
That's a big one (laughs). There've been a few. John Lennon. Specifically a few of his songs, "Working Class Hero", and "Across the Universe". Telling stories that make pictures and have meaning. I think that's what I try to do with my music.
Do you perform on stage with a Maingard guitar?
I actually built the guitar I play with. I did all the sort of grunt work, all the manual labour. The sound stuff is what my dad did, which is why it sounds as good as it does. He did the things that create what is a Maingard sound. I'm very privileged and honoured to have that guitar.
Strategies when tackling noisy crowds.
Strategies, it sounds so businesslike (laughs). It's just things I've learned from doing it. Every time is different and sometimes I just accept that they're not there to listen to me, they're there to socialise with one another. Then I just play for myself and for those who do want to connect, and there's always at least a few people. Sometimes I'll play a cover that everyone knows and that I enjoy playing. Sometimes I try to get people to sing along, or play a more upbeat song. Or in extreme cases if people have paid money to come to a venue to listen to folk music and they're sitting there talking, at some point I'll say, "Listen guys, I just want to let you know that you need to be quiet now." I've actually done that before in a very strong way, and people appreciate it. It's almost an education for them. One of my favourite things to do is to tell a story, and to feel people get into the song and say, "Oh! Ok, he was talking about that." I can feel them getting it.
"I think what I'm talking about is a feeling everyone can relate to."
On "The Wild Land" album - a central theme.
I think there's a central theme behind my music in general, and that is that I'm talking about stuff that is archetypal. If you take all the details away from trials or difficulties, all that you're left with is the fact that difficulty exists. In one of my songs called "Fire" I'm talking about the fact that to burn is to purify. To be in trouble, to be hurting is valid. It needs to happen to become more yourself. I think what I'm talking about is a feeling everyone can relate to. Music is so personal because I'm talking about myself, but I'm trying to talk about myself in the purest sense. In the sense that we all feel the stuff that I'm feeling. I think that is the central theme of my music, that we are all in this together.
Nate Maingard in five years.
Five years is a long time in my world (laughter), but just a few weeks ago I made a strong commitment to stay in this country for another full year, and to give it as much as I've given it in 2011, where I've played as hundred shows, I've given it everything I have this year. I was planning for California and Europe and England, looking at my options of other places that I could play, and then I realised that I needed to be more settled here first. I got the sense I was leaving before I felt grounded here.
Realistically I would like to be a household name in South Africa. I feel like my music is valid and has value. I love my country, at the same time, I have my doubts about whether we have enough of a folk audience in this country to support me long term. I look at the generations that came before me, and I've seen how they've struggled all their years, as folk musicians. I look at some of my peers now, like Guy Buttery for example, who is an amazing musician, and he manages himself. He's done really well for himself. He's released beautiful albums, he's highly respected, and he is a successful musician in this country. I look at him and that inspires me to give this more time, see what I can pull together.
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