Ep 19: Let's Talk About Tips

In this episode, John unpacks a Top 10 list built from real nights, real rooms, and real years of making a living with music. 

Drawing from life as a full-time working musician, he talks about the strange, fascinating, unpredictable world of tip culture, what it reveals about people, ourselves, and what every performer should understand about the exchange happening beyond the songs.

Transcript

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You are listening to the Gig to Live Podcast. Welcome everyone. I'm John Foles and I'm a full-time working musician. This podcast is about building a music life that builds up over time. It's practical, enjoyable, sometimes uncomfortable, but it's always about helping you stay in the game and actually enjoy the life that you're building. We'll meet some wonderful working musicians from time to time. So whether you're just getting started or you've been doing this for years, you're in the right spot. This podcast is for you. Well, hey everyone. I am currently in Michigan. The last few episodes have been recorded in California, but now we are at our other home base across the country, and now begins the season of music lake life for me. I can't wait. My first gig is on Saturday in Grand Haven, Michigan. The next six months are going to be saturated with private shows and weddings and receptions and a ton of breweries because Western Michigan has a huge craft brew culture. More than the wine culture for sure. It's a little different than California. Cool outside stages near beach towns on the unsalted, huge and beautiful Lake Michigan. I love everywhere I get to play, and I feel privileged to do what I do no matter where I am. And each season brings my new favorites. I can never pin down what my absolute favorite place to play is. I can't tell you. Because each culture and venue and group of people, they they bring new experiences and new relationships, and it's beautiful. I am going to get right to it today, today's top 10 list. For many of us, tips aren't just about cash. They feel like a vote, right? They feel personal. Those $5 bills, $10 bills, those are a love letter to us. And we feel like they mean something more, like connection and communication. And we want those tips to be tear-soaked, you know? Happy tears, sad tears. It doesn't matter. We want people to feel something. And when tips don't come in like we expected, then it's kind of a mind job. Even if we know deep down inside that tips often have more to do with the room than they have to do with us, we also know that we definitely have something to do with it. So if it's bad, if it's a bad tip night, then we blame ourselves first without reading the other signs. Now, I don't know how you judge a good tip night. For me, and I'm not saying you need to do this kind of a tip ratio scenario, but I feel like I've had a good tip night if my tips are equal to or more than the venue paid me that evening. So if I make $300 from the venue and I make at least $300 in tips, then it feels like a successful tip night to me. It's a little game I play. And the hard thing is that even a $200 tip night in that scenario would be great. So I have to not beat myself up if I don't hit the mark. And there have been times when I have missed the mark by only a few bucks, and I find I'm disappointed because I'm an idiot. I mean, that's dumb. I shouldn't feel like that. So I talk to myself out loud as I'm driving down the road from the gig, and I say, Man, you did well. They love you. Keep going. I do a little self-therapy, you know, that never hurts. I thought it would be good to share a few things with you that really help me out in the tip game. Observations that make it easier to understand tip culture and have fair expectations. So here we go. Drum roll, please. The top ten things I have learned about tips. Number ten. People tip connection. There's a part of tipping that is totally unpredictable. I mean, I have seen some of the most talented people on the stage leave nearly empty-handed, and I have seen some of the, I don't know, let's call them cute or melodically messy or sonically suspect people with a jar stacked to the rim. And I've seen seasoned veterans with barely a haypenny in the jar, and newbies who break all of the rules, and then they have this insane amount of cashola in that pail. And sometimes people tip because they actually feel bad for people. Sometimes the audience is stacked with fans and well-wishers and heartfelt supporters of that one musician. But those are not the kind of tips that promote longevity. And then, you know, there's those weird nights of fortune where the tip gods are smiling, yea verily, your cup overfloweth. You're doing the same thing you always do, but man, you hit the jackpot. And honestly, sometimes the planet's just a line for musician and there's no rhyme or reason. Maybe it's Christmas, maybe the spirit of generosity has visited the town. Sometimes the tips just don't make sense. You do the same thing you always do, and then one night it's all lucky sevens. However, outside all of the oddities, and as luck would have it kinds of nights, generally people tip when they feel a connection to you, the musician. Seldom do people tip talent just for talent's sake. They tip when they feel something. And this becomes especially apparent to me when I get a huge, out of the ordinary, you know, way over generous tip. I've had moments where I have found a wad of $100 bills in my tip jar, and I know it's not because I am a vocal or guitar wizard. I know it's because someone felt connected. They felt seen, they felt included, they felt like they're part of something happening. And if you're just playing at people, then you're invisible. But if you're playing with people, then they they lean in, right? And when you catch eyes with that person singing along with you and you lock in and you know, you start singing right at them, then that's good showmanship. But it's also the kind of thing that creates the kind of connection that leads to money in the jar. Conversation with the crowd, uh, mentioning people by name, uh, telling appropriate stories, you know, not too much. We've talked about that before. You're you're there to perform, but a good story that's well placed, man, that can go a long way. The truth is, there are some very talented musicians who don't make a ton in tips because they don't know how to connect. And an average musician with people skills will kill it. So if you feel like you need to work on your people skills, then I highly recommend trying something to sharpen that. Join Toastmasters or take a class or join a book club or join any club where you're required to interact with people. Or not. I mean, you don't have to. You don't have to interact to have longevity, but I guarantee you it's going to be harder. And it's going to take longer to build something because this is the people business. Okay, number nine. There are good asks and bad asks. Sometimes musicians will never mention they have a to tip jar. Or they'll mention it awkwardly like they're apologizing for it. You know, uh oh hey, uh I know this is awkward, you guys, and you don't have to do this if you don't want to, but there is a tip jar up here, and if you'd like, you know, but don't feel any pressure. Uh sometimes musicians ask too much. They tell us at the beginning of their show, in between every single song, uh, every single break that they have. You know, the tip jar works when it feels like a natural extension of the night, not when it feels like uh just a transaction. And to be honest, sometimes people don't even know there's a tip jar for the musician. They just think that music is part of what the venue provides. And when you do mention it, nobody's offended by that if we do it right. So sometimes I use humor. Uh, for instance, I will introduce the band, uh, which is only me, and then I will introduce someone who is uh an unseen member who has been with me through thick and thin, my buddy Tip, Mr. Tip Jar. Ladies and gentlemen, I know, it's dumb. Uh, and it's also effective. Something simple like, uh, hey, thanks everyone. I have a tip jar up here. This is how I keep doing this. I appreciate you being part of it. Timing is really important when you mention your tip jar. I don't know that there's a best time to mention it, but I do know that there's bad times, for sure, uh when no one in the room is listening to a word you're saying, that's a bad time. When the energy in the room is flat. That's a bad time. In the middle of a song cluster with low energy, bad time. For me, the best times seem to be after a high energy song when the room is with you, right before you break or at the end of a set. Uh but you know what? I feel it out because I like to make it part of the conversation just so it feels natural. Okay. Number eight. The jar matters. The actual jar I'm talking about. Don't overthink it, but don't ignore it. It needs to be visible and, you know, not hidden. This one is super important. It needs to be easy to access for all people, not tucked away behind you, not too close to you, because you know it's it's scary to walk up there and drop money in somebody's jar for some people. Uh put a few bills in there already, you know, seed the jar. You've probably heard a million people say that before. I know it seems weird, but there's a psychology to this. It is a signal to the room. It's giving people permission. And believe it or not, people want to know that it's okay to tip. Uh, they want you to tell them it's okay to tip, and seating in the jar can do that. We all follow the crowd, you know. I I can't tell you how many times I've seen tipping as a chain reaction. Uh by the way, seed it with nothing less than fives. That's my little rule of thumb. Fives, tens, twenties, uh, because people want to know that they are tipping the right amount as well. Draw attention to it with a nice sign, uh, preferably printed, large enough to read with all of your vital information. Include a QR code to one or two places where you accept tips like your Venmo account or your PayPal account. Light up the jar. Clear jars with a light inside are great. Uh solid jars with lights around it. Uh oftentimes I'll just use my guitar case. I'll open up a bar stool, I'll put my nice sign inside the top lid of the guitar case against that green velvet, uh, and I'll put out tiny little lights, and that works well for me. It's not obnoxious and it's easy to see. Uh, by the way, this reminds me, if you are going to use a funny phrase on your tip jar, like on the sign, then count the cost. Uh sometimes they backfire. I saw a guy with a uh buy me coffee on his, you know, on his sign, handwritten, buy me a coffee. And I bet he thought it was cute, and it is, and that people would get it, and they did, but I watched the kind of money that people were putting in that tip jar, and it was all small bills. They were doing exactly what he asked. And I've seen funny signs like pay my rent, and that's cute too. But in my opinion, they can, not always, but they can feel unprofessional. Uh, the potential for a cutesy sign to backfire is a risk, and it's one that I don't take. There is uh uh a potential to demean the perceived value of the performance. And instead of people hearing support this artist, the sign can read as, you know, help this struggling fool. Or there's a potential to make you seem like a sideshow. All right. You also run the risk of venue owners thinking that it's a bit tacky or creating awkward energy for the room. So not always, but I would walk cautiously there. All right. Number seven, the environment is powerful. Now, we've talked about this a little bit, uh, and I'm I'm generalizing here, but wineries, breweries, they generally have higher tips because people are relaxed. It's a social environment, right? And they're, you know, they're having a few brews, few glasses of wine, they're feeling good, and generally higher tips there. Uh high-end venues, for me, lower tips because people assume that you're already covered. You know, if you're playing a real swanky, ritzy country club, it's typically a bad tipping environment. Uh, you know, just from my own experience. Coffee shops, uh, you know, that depends entirely on the connection and, you know, are there regulars there? So uh you just you can't expect the same result everywhere. In any of those environments, your connection still is going to count more than the venue. But just remember, uh, if you give it your all and the tips are low, then consider where you're at and ask how has this environment impacted the tip situation for the day? All right. Number six. How you see your role will steer the outcome. So who are you? Why are you there? If you picture yourself as just background music, you're gonna get low tips. If you uh imagine yourself as entertainment for the evening, uh, you're gonna get better tips. But if you picture yourself as part of the night, right? Like an integral part of the evening, a reason for people to come back, a fan maker. I have found those are always the situations where you get the best tips. These little roll shifts have nothing to do with your technical skills as a musician. It has everything to do with how you carry the room. So it's a it's a mind thing. Number five. Regular fans are your tip friends. Regular fans are your real economy. Regulars tip repeatedly. Bigger and more consistent tips are a natural byproduct of building relationships with a crowd base that knows you, that expects you to deliver, that feels like you're their musician, you know. Oh man, if somebody ever calls you their musician, that is the greatest feeling. Uh your baseline income stabilizes with those things. And it happens from recognition and continuity. It's just a fact. And and I'm not trying to give you some manipulative tactic to get money from people. I'm saying if you love people, if you give to people, if you build relationships with people and they know you care, if you are consistent and you play in repeat venues, if you open yourself up to being a friend to the people, then you will see a difference in your income. Consistency on your part wins the tipping game, by the way. Always people will start to look at tips uh not as a pittance or some you know paper hand clap or a bravo, but they they start to looking they start looking at tipping as an investment in you. Number four, requests are currency. I'll be honest. I'm not a big fan of requests. Uh that is, unless I know it. After all these years of playing, I still feel strange if I'm not able to play a request. I feel bad. But I've learned that I may know a lot of songs, but I don't know every song. And that's okay. I will often try to figure out the genre they like. If I don't know the song, I'll suggest another one. You know, I'm sorry, I don't I don't know that Jackson Brown tune, but I do know this Eagles tune, or this Poco tune, or this JD Souther tune. And if I can tell them a quick story about how all those artists are linked, then I'm golden. And most likely they will still tip me. So find creatives to still hook them. And when you don't know the song that they're asking about, uh, so check into the genre, the related artists thing, uh, the same vibe, the same vibe, because requests are currency. Number three, your energy is the ceiling for tips. And when I say energy, I don't mean that you always have to be sweating. You don't have to be James Brown up there. But if you're playing safe, guarded, uh, or you're, you know, you're just trying to get through the night, then the room will read that and they will reflect that. Tips rarely exceed the energy that a musician projects. You you don't have to be over the top, but you do have to be available. Closed off musicians get polite applause from the crowd, but open musicians they get paid. Number two. Some people will never tip. It's a fact. Some people don't believe in the tipping culture. Some people think the venue should pay all the compensation. Some people assume that musicians are already paid enough. Some people never carry cash and they avoid digital payments. They're afraid of them. Some people feel no personal connection to the performer. Some people think applause is enough, or a high five, or an attaboy, or a thumbs up. Some people buy food and drinks for the musician and they consider that their contribution. Some people resent being asked for tips. Some people have become numb to tip requests everywhere. Some people simply don't value live music enough to tip. Some people tip are cheap. Some people feel like they're making a statement by not tipping. So just know some people will never tip. So when you see that person out there in the crowd and it looks like they're having such a great time, and they wave at you and they smile as they go by the tip jar, just know for any number of reasons, they may not be a tipper. And then finally, number one. It is a scoreboard. It's not the biggest scoreboard. Ask yourself, are people leaning in? Are they staying longer than they planned? Are they coming back time after time? Are they bringing somebody with them? Are they following you on social media? Are they commenting and interacting with you in social media? Is there conversation with the fans before and after your show? Do people treat you like a friend? If those things are happening, the money will follow. If those things are not happening, then no clever line about a tip jar is going to save you. No decorated, lit up, beautiful, oversized tip jar is going to make a difference. Uh, because again, this is the people business. All right. That's all for today, everyone. Thanks so much. I really appreciate you sticking with me and with this podcast. Please tell your friends about this. Please uh follow this podcast. That that's super helpful wherever you listen to the podcast. If you could follow it, if you could uh like it, you know, give it those five stars. Whatever the platform you listen on is offering you as a way to say, I like this podcast, I would appreciate it if you would make a move and do that. Thank you so much. And remember, stay creative, stay after it, and stay hired. Let me love, let me love.