“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
(J.R.R. Tolkien - The Fellowship of the Ring)

It’s an odd thing, trying to forge a life out of nothing.

Sometime last year, I was invited onto a podcast to talk about being an independent musician.

Having spent an hour or so pontificating on everything from classical theology to James Joyce, I was asked a question I’ve come to bristle at slightly.

(NB – this is far from being one of my most hated questions. I have a list of those. I won’t lay them all out here, but up near the top are “so, what have you been up to?” and - specifically when asked by a middle-aged woman too drunk to formulate more complex sentences, AND specifically when I’m on my only 15-minute break at a covers gig in a loud pub - “So… let me ask you something… what’s your favourite song to sing?”)

“Just before we go then Rob, any gigs lined up this year?”

Like all questions that threaten to expose a hole in my carefully constructed persona, my heart dropped a little when I heard it.

Because the truth is, I hadn’t.

Writing, recording and releasing music feels, in my experience anyway, like something I can accomplish by brute force.

Throw enough time, effort and money at it, and nobody can actually stop me.

They might hate it, love it, or completely ignore it, but they can’t prevent it from happening.

Playing original music live, though, is a different kettle of fish.

You need people to agree to let you use their venue.

You need bandmates who are willing and available, despite you being able to offer them almost nothing in the way of payment.

You need a promoter, a sound engineer, a lighting tech, posters and flyers.

You need to rehearse and have a half-decent show to put on.

And, most terrifyingly of all, you need people to buy tickets.

The combination of all this had, to be honest, meant that I’d filed the idea of “book more gigs” in a sort of dusty psychological drawer labelled do it later for the last couple of years.

But, like a month-old parking fine, the sense that I needed to sort it out was beginning to lurch upwards into consciousness more and more.

“I don’t have much happening yet, but…” I deflected confidently, “I am planning a bit of a UK tour.”

This was news to me as I heard myself say it, but though I hadn’t actually been planning any such thing, it certainly sounded like the sort of thing I should have been planning.

It predictably piqued the interest of the podcast hosts.

“Oh amazing - tell us about the tour? It must be a bit of a leap into the unknown, that. And do the financials stack up these days as an independent artist?”

“Well,” I said, “the way I see it, at some point you just have to take the plunge. Nobody will come and it’ll probably be an absolute disaster. But you’re never going to be a touring musician unless one day you book a tour.”

This, you’ll be unsurprised to hear, remains largely my attitude.

But at this point - with eight dates confirmed, bandmates lined up, a promoter promoting, and posters published - I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited.

The idea of a tour - of me on tour, playing songs I wrote in my spare bedroom to people who have actually handed over money to listen - still feels a little like a mirage.

I’m still slightly worried that if I start running towards it too hastily, it’ll dissolve away - back into the endless desert sand.

But, to all intents and purposes, it is definitely happening.

So I suppose I’d better start getting myself ready.

To make myself feel better about all the ways in which it could go horribly wrong - the financials that don’t add up, the creeping imposter syndrome, the very real possibility that I’ll be playing to nobody but the bar staff in Middlesbrough on a Tuesday night - I thought I’d share with you five gigs from the annals of rock and roll history that sound more stressful than mine could ever possibly be.

If you think I’ve missed one, do let me know.

1. Bob Dylan - Newport Folk Festival, 1965

The voice of a generation turns up to a folk festival with an electric guitar and promptly alienates his entire audience.

Boos, outrage, Pete Seeger supposedly grabbing a nearby axe and threatening to chop through the amp cables - we’ve all heard the stories.

It’s sort of encouraging, in its way - if you’re going to lose a crowd, you might as well do it decisively.

2. The Doors - Miami, 1969

Jim Morrison pushes things a little too far (by exposing himself to the crowd), gets arrested, and derails the band’s future in the process.

A reminder that sometimes one slightly ill-judged evening can echo for rather longer than intended.

This is certainly not something I intend to do during the STARS tour, no matter how vociferously people ask.

3. The Rolling Stones – Altamont Free Concert, 1969

A free concert in California, with the Hells Angels hired as security, descends into violence.

A fan is killed in front of the stage while The Rolling Stones continue playing.

Often described as the moment the 60s dream died and immortalised by Don McLean in the third verse of American Pie - which does rather put a potentially quiet Tuesday in Middlesbrough into perspective.

4. Metallica and Guns N’ Roses – Montreal, 1992

Pyrotechnics go wrong, James Hetfield is injured, Axl Rose walks off, and the crowd promptly riots.

Probably not something I need to be too concerned about - we won’t be using any flamethrowers and, to be honest, a riot could be quite exciting by the time we get to Nottingham.

5. Oasis – MTV Unplugged, Los Angeles, 1996

Liam Gallagher pulls out last minute, leaving Noel to sing the entire set… while he sits in the balcony smoking, drinking, and heckling his own band.

Less a concert, more a family dispute with amplification.

I’ve very specifically warned my own brother not to do this (though that probably won't stop him).

So - if you do find yourself at one of our shows, and something does go wrong - a missed cue, a broken string, a slightly off note - just remember:

It could be much worse.

In all seriousness, we can’t wait.

Thanks to everyone who has already bought a ticket - they’re moving much faster than I ever could have hoped.

Don’t miss your chance to grab one before it's too late.

And, as always...

Keep dreaming,

Rob