Dear Hendrix

1. Write a Song, Repeat

Before you can book a show, you have to put pen to paper and write. The bad news is that writing a song is very hard. The good news is that you can write whatever you want! (Seriously. I was once inspired by staring at a wall.) With the song in hand, take it to your bandmates to fill out the sound.

Now this part is very important: Tell them how you envision it. Don’t let people with ulterior motives take over. Collaboration is also essential, but if you have a vision, make sure everyone else understands it.

Then do this about 10 more times. You’ll need at least 30 minutes’ worth of music for a proper set. With songs in hand, you can book a gig. Whether it’s at a club, Climate Pledge Arena, or a house, just book a place to play. Any place. I once played a show in a mattress store! Really: Don’t be too precious.

2. Get to the Venue

It’s gig day, and you’re nervous—that’s okay! Here’s what you do: Avoid dairy. That will keep your mind off being nervous. Don’t consume dairy, and your voice will be better off for it, too. I can only assume you’re the lead singer in this band—so, yes, avoid dairy!

Instead, drink water, tea, anything else besides a giant milkshake. Then eat a light snack. You’ll need some calories if you’re going to load your damn gear up ramps and into cars and out of cars and down ramps all night.

You got bass amps, triangles, tambourines, picks, the extra drum head, pedals—the whole instrument buffet! Now all you have to do is drive to the venue, park a mile away in the closest available spot where you won’t get towed away within 15 minutes, and lug everything inside. 

Oh, and make sure nothing is stolen by a local klepto in the process!

The best part of show day is finding the club’s green room, if there is one. Hang out there for a while and wonder if you’ll get discovered tonight, if this is your big break. (Hint: It won’t be, but that’s not the point!) Enjoy the sticky floor, the cans of probably cheap beer in the fridge, the questionable smudges on the mirror hanging on the door.

Welcome to your new home for the night!

3. Sound Check

For some reason, venues ask you to load-in approximately a week before the gig (okay, maybe it’s just a few hours). And then it’s time for sound check. After unloading, check in with whatever staff member is on-site. Hopefully, they’ve already shown you the green room.

Let them next show you to the stage. Grab your gear and lug it there. Figure out who stands where. Plug in. Of course, the fucking bass player is ready before anyone else. But that’s why no one pays attention to him during the gig (I can say this because your dad is a bass player).

Go over the set list with your bandmates. The room is vibrating, and your nerves are, too. Then the ever-so-cheery sound person and their know-it-all assistant come on stage. One asks, “So, what does everybody need in their wedges?” People mumble. Then the monitor person says, “Great, I’ll put everything in everyone’s monitor, and we’ll figure it out as we go.”

Everyone nods.

Drums first. They take forever. Snare, kick, tom, other tom. Boom, boom, boom. People hold their fingers up as if checking the breeze to indicate more or less volume. The rest of the instruments check their sounds. The guitar is always too loud. The bass is always too quiet.

As the singer, you say shit like, “Tssk, sssk, pop, pop, pop!” into the mic. You imagine the room full of people. You are stuck between feeling super cool and super dumb. Welcome to the life!

4. Interact With the Sound Person

The sound person will tell you to turn things up, turn things down. You will tell them to turn things up, turn things down. You’ll wonder if any of it matters.

Then the other bands on the bill, who also had to show up entirely too early, will go through the same thing. Small talk will happen. People will say, “We’ve been wanting to work with you guys for a while now!” You laugh and maybe lie, “Us too!” Who knows?

Then after the small talk, both bands awkwardly drift apart and go their own way, wondering why they even scheduled this.

5. Eat

But then you remember why you’re here and why you’re doing this. As you leave the venue, you see people outside waiting to get in. That’s the thrill you crave.

If you’re in an unfamiliar neighborhood or city, someone in your band will look up a good nearby food spot on their phone. You go where they say and find a restaurant. You look at the menu in the window to decide if it’s cheap enough to try. Then you tell yourself they can’t mess up a burger, right? It will probably be worth it! 

(It’s rarely worth it.)

You go into the burger joint, and somehow, after only 12 minutes, you’re leaving already. You’ve split the bill and eaten a bunch of stuff. What was it? Who can remember? As you leave, you see the other band on the bill. “Oh hey! You’re eating here too?” In reality, everyone knows this place is the only reasonable option since you have to be back at the venue in 45 minutes.

6. The Big Walk Back

The meal is done, the third band is already back at the venue. You arrive, and the doors opened 30 minutes ago. You set up your merch table. You make sure it looks good; you hope to sell at least three (3) T-shirts.

The house speakers are playing the appropriate music for the occasion; the venue is filling up, slowly but surely. You’re back in the green room now, hanging with the other band(s), and starting to feel excited. The sound person comes in to tell you, “We’re still waiting for it to fill up, so we’re going to push out the start time by 15 or 20 minutes.” You’re okay with that because you want as many people to see you play as possible.

When you’re summoned to the stage, you step onto it. You plug in. You tune as the energy picks up, and a murmur spreads through the crowd.

It’s time to begin.

It’s time to rock the fucking place.

And that’s the thing, Hendrix. How do you play a rock show?

You just fucking do it.

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Eva Walker is a writer, a KEXP DJ, one-half of the rock duo The Black Tones, and mom to her baby girl, Hendrix. She also co-wrote the book The Sound of Seattle: 101 Songs That Shaped a City, which was released in 2024. Every month for The Stranger, she writes a letter to Hendrix to share wisdom learned from her experiences—and her mistakes. Read all installments here.