A Quote by Joel Plaskett

If your gig is not in an office for eight hours a day, its going to be somewhere. If you're a truck driver, you get on a road. If you're a musician, you go to where the people are going to show up and you take the gig. I enjoy it, so I don't and I'm not complaining. Its just the traveling can get to be a bit much.
In the early days I was on the road 45-50 weeks a year, driving from gig to gig 6-8 weeks in a row. Not everyone can do that. The show becomes the easy part. Tt's the life on the road that is the hardest... and you can't get any good at standup unless you do the road.
Just, whenever you can, get up and sing at a gig or jam. If you have a chance, take it and keep on getting up. Keep going - but not If people boo, 'cause that's just mean. I think that could be setting yourself for disappointment.
We all lived in the same house, or most of us did. And as far as I can make out we were confined to the property, because at twenty-four hours' notice we'd have to do a gig somewhere. So you couldn't leave the building for more than twelve hours in case a gig came through.
The day we struggle to enjoy what we do and just get the gig over with we'll quit.
I think I'm probably going to have more luck on tour, on the road, than I am at home, because as hectic as traveling can be, I have a little bit more control, for life situations out there on the road. It's the one aspect of my life I feel like I do have some control of. I can wake up in my hotel room, I'm alone and I can ease into the day and do what I need to do. It's not like I've got to get up and drive the kids to school, feed the dog, get to the gym, go to practice, go pay a bill, you know what I mean?
A lot of people think, 'Oh, you made 'SNL.' You're set. You're good.' No. All there is gigs, and you go from one gig to another. And hopefully you get a good gig, and it lasts for a while, and you get good work and people remember it, and you have good memories of it.
I'm a big believer that when we put so much into our jobs - and everyone does - you deserve to be get paid for it instead of doing a gig and then having to work in a bar for eight hours.
Was I always going to be here? No I was not. I was going to be homeless at one time, a taxi driver, truck driver, or any kind of job that would get me a crust of bread. You never know what's going to happen.
I just want to move forward with what I love to do. I also love to travel and I love my family. If I have a gig and I'm going to do that, great. If not, I'll go visit my family or do a bit of traveling. I try to keep life full, in every way.
When I first started drinking, it was working for me. It was great. Like when you're doing a gig and you're in a band and you're in the truck and there's nothing to do in the truck and the gigs are all the same and the hotels are all the same...it's the hotels, the car, the gig.
You're not going to die. Here's the white-hot truth: if you go bankrupt, you'll still be okay. If you lose the gig, the lover, the house, you'll still be okay. If you sing off-key, get beat by the competition, have your heart shattered, get fired...it's not going to kill you. Ask anyone who's been through it.
In the old days gigging was everything. The whole of life was about gigs. Everything was about waiting for the gig and then doing the gig and going nuts and then afterwards the party and all the stuff that goes with it. And then that party continues through your twenties and thirties. I'm now 51, and it's still very much in my blood, but I'm really hard pushed... the gig is the party for me now.
New York musicians rarely have the time for idle chat and conversation after a gig. Despite popular assumption of our scintillating after-hours, that illusion is overtaken by the constant hustle to juggle a part-time or full-time job, a myriad of errands, a second or third gig of the day, and perhaps a child or two somewhere.
You gig and gig and wonder what your first Edinburgh show will be like, if people will like it, and when they do, it just feels like it validates the last few years of your life, and that you're on the right track.
As soon as I walk outside, I get depressed. If I see a dog, I'll get upset about how much it must suck to be on a leash. I'll get on a bus and tear up at the thought of how the driver has to go back and forth on the same street for eight hours in mind-numbing traffic.
I ran off stage at my first gig. Halfway through it, I forgot my lines and didn't know what to do, so I just ran out of the building down towards a lake. I was going to throw myself in, but the compere came out and said, 'No, it's going well, come back and finish the gig!'
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