Free Beer in Bars
“Amateurs,’ Shirky writes, ‘are sometimes separated from professionals by skill, but always by motivation… The essence of amateurism is intrinsic motivation: to be an amateur is to do something for the love of it.” (47)
“Artist’s often enjoy what they do, suggesting they might continue being creative even when the monetary incentives to do so become weaker. In addition, artists receive a significant portion of their remuneration not in monetary form… many of them enjoy fame, admiration, social status, and free beer in bars.” (48)
I loved this chapter, largely because it brought to mind my own experience as an underpaid and undervalued artist, and my familiarity with the commonness of this experience in the lives of many of my friends and loved ones, artists, teachers, and those who work in human services positions.
Personally speaking, I am often paid solely with free beer in bars when I DJ or am involved in live performance settings that utilize my aesthetic tastes, ability to manage crowds, personally curated collection, technical know how, and stunning personality (j/k). It’s generally fine and accepted (the free beer is definitely enjoyed) when I’m hanging out with friends, vibing, and collaborating with others to create a musical and visual space that feels life affirmative and like an offering of my creativity for a communal kinship (rather than an egoic endorsement of my personal “brand” – can’t brand other people’s music can only feature it, otherwise that’s appropriation). But to think that because I get joy from this experience, that this means it would be shallow and somehow lessen the quality of my offerings or services as a artist, creative, and working person for me to request some form of compensation that is not alcohol, is really frustrating. “We tend to believe that the labor of those who appear to love what they do does not by definition qualify as labor.” (Taylor, 51)
I get the basic principles involved with running a business (I’ve done that too, run other people’s businesses to support myself and my own after hours artistic practice) – if the bar doesn’t make money because only a handful of people show up to the event, then of course you are not getting cab fare home. I enjoy playing music for other people, especially when they enjoy it, but like any work, as Taylor suggests as much, there are plenty of moments or parts of doing that work that don’t feel enjoyable. I’m not going to stop doing this work because I don’t get paid with paper money (the self-actualization is pretty grand) but to suggest that the various struggles that accompany this endeavor do not affect my abilities or “productivity” because the value of this creative output or cultural product is simultaneously fetishized and disregarded is absurd.
Free beer doesn’t pay for my cab home with all my gear at 3 am. Free beer doesn’t acknowledge the years of digging and in-person conversations I gathered pre-spotify, shazam, and youtube to learn about the musical cultures and craft I curate from and it unfortunately doesn’t banish random straight yuppie dude bros that stumble into the scene (it’s not that type of party) and come up to the booth in an aggressive and drunken manner demanding I play some top 40 song off their i-phone. Free beer is not going to entice other potential collaborators to participate in your project if there is no means of other viable accomodation to offer (payment, stipend, or even a couch to crash on.) Admiration doesn’t mean anything if you have promoted a monthly residency across several social media platforms (where 90 – 100 people’s profiles click yes they will attend) and only 9 people come out that night. Social status does not fix the fact that the venue has double booked your space, again, so you have to aimlessly wait around for the last crowd to stagger off and start way later. It’s not like that every time we throw this event, but sometimes it is and then some – unforeseen complications that make you wonder if you should have some sort of additional emergency medical training under your belt.
Passion is nice but it’s not going to pay your bills. Passion is an overly demanded ideal that the public (consumer/shareholder) puts on the artist – I would almost suggest that it is an American invention like the pursuit of happiness as an end goal and only encouraged potential outcome/dividend. It’s like the only recognized authenticity afforded to your labors is your own participation in stepping into the box of the starving artist, you become a product that doesn’t sell but looks sexy. If I’m being lauded for being an artist, can I get some affirmation as a worker, or beyond that, as a human? Because staying up really late in a bar drinking and playing to an empty room is not exactly a life affirmative feeling – it’s not the reason I got into the craft I got into, I got into it for the “feeling-bonds” that Taylor speaks of on page 49. These feeling-bonds are the crucial piece that drives the passion behind culture and creativity. That I get to form these bonds with people who are open to being moved by music and story-telling is the greatest form of compensation I can imagine but it’s not enough to keep me pragmatically organized and motivated to consistently produce them. If we lived in a bartering society – maybe I could trade the beer for useful things like nourishing food and decent shelter and the various expensive materials I need to continue to be paid in beer – but so far despite how big beer is in America it’s not a valid form of currency for anybody else besides alcoholics and artists who love to perform invisible and unacknowledged labor for it. Where is this almost darwinian stockpile of intrinsic motivation I need in order to gain this idealized cognitive surplus that will unlock my ability to be a fully self-realized working poor artist creating feeling-bonds and getting free beer in bars? Do I need a unique QR code and compatible app to unlock this motivation, because as far as I can tell, all this beer is doing is creating a haze around the larger realities of what it means to be a disregarded worker within a society and world experiencing hyper technological development in an insane market economy.
Sergio Rodriguez
