That thudding sound you’re hearing is my head violently slamming against my desk for the fifth or sixth time today. Why am I so hellbent on hurting myself, you ask? Because promoters. Specifically, promoters who can’t be bothered to do the job they get paid to do.
Look, I’ve been on both sides of the coin. I’ve done the whole “send email out to random blogsite that won’t even read it” and the whole “ignore emails coming from giant PR machines that don’t seem to get that I don’t cover NYC or Seattle.” I know how tough it is to enter in a ton of data and get everything right. Sometimes a showtime is listed wrong. Maybe you mix up openers or something. BUT FOR GOD’S SAKE YOU SHOULD KNOW THE NAME OF THE VENUE!
MELTING. POINT. Not “Pot,” not “Smelting Point” (wtf?!) or any other bizarre combination of words that still doesn’t come close to “Melting Point.” HOLY COW, PEOPLE GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER.
I understand getting it wrong once. It happens. Sometimes you don’t have time to look up every venue or maybe you just don’t care. But when I constantly get emails from PR companies about MULTIPLE ACTS coming through Athens to the “Melting Pot,” I WILL LOSE MY MIND. You’d think that after going through the venue someone would go, “Oh, hey. It was called the Melting Point, btw.”
So yeah, that’s my rant for the day. I’ll let my Spirit Animal Nic Cage demonstrate my feelings right now.