Keep ’Em Coming Back

New Volume VI

For owners, bookers, musicians, bartenders, and dance teachers

A booking is a conversation that gets repeated for years. The first email sets the tone, the confirmation sets the expectations, the settlement tests both, and the next call depends on how all three went. Nobody calls that public relations, but it is. The audience is one person, and that person has a phone full of other bookers, other musicians, and other rooms.

From Chapter 12: Booking, Pitching, and Professional Relationships

Read more in Last Call →

For venue owners and operators

An app can connect you to a thousand strangers, but it cannot give you the regular who saves you a seat. As the virtual world grows, the value of the genuinely real — the irreplaceably human, the truly communal — only climbs, and the honky tonk sits at the very center of what people will increasingly cross town and pay a premium to find.

From Chapter 33: The Future

Read more in The Complete PR Guide →

For music night programmers

The musician who got their first real slot at your room, met their bandmates there, recorded the video that broke them, and found their community in your building is bonded to your room for life — not out of obligation, but because the room genuinely became part of their story.

From Chapter 30: Building an Artist Community Around Your Venue

Read more in Music Nights →

For musicians and venues

What a kit is for, precisely, is to answer a booker’s questions before they ever have to ask them. When a booker is weighing an act, they have a short and remarkably predictable list of things they need to know: what is this act, are they any good, do they fit my room, can they draw a crowd, and how do I reach them.

From Chapter 7: The EPK and the One-Sheet

Read more in Both Sides of the Stage →

For bartender-creators

Your years are the asset. They are the moat — the part the kids and the algorithm-chasers cannot copy no matter how much light they buy. And age is not the only thing that talks people out of this. Maybe you are private and have no wish to be on camera; maybe the whole idea strikes you as a little cringe, beneath the craft you have honed for years.

From Chapter 1: Why You, and Why Now

Read more in Behind the Bar →

For dance teachers

You are not, primarily, transferring information; you are manufacturing an emotion — the specific, powerful feeling of “I did it.” That emotion is what gets attached to your night, your room, and you, and it’s what pulls a person back through your door next week. A lesson packed with information but empty of that feeling converts nobody.

From Chapter 11: Building a Beginner-Friendly Lesson

Read more in The Texas Dance Floor →