Ah, January. A time
of rebirth. A time of new
beginnings. A time of resolutions and
personal growth.
Yeah, right. |
The truth is, January isn't quite the inspiring time that
it’s meant to be. Despite all the
fireworks and New Years hype, most of us greet January with a world-weary
sigh. The holidays are over. It’s
back to business as usual. Christmas has
left us overweight, overspent, and exhausted. And now we have to haul our figgy-pudding-filled selves back to the everyday
grind of work. This is why the third
Monday of January is known as "Blue Monday", the most depressing day of the
year. We’re like a horde of cranky
children throwing a fit. We just don’t
want to go back to school.
You might think that returning to work is easier for a
freelance musician. After all, our work
consists of doing what we love. Don’t we
spend all day making music, pursuing our deepest passion?
If only it were that easy. While we do spend many hours making music, we
also spend a lot of time doing non-musical work. Sending emails, placing phone calls, booking flights, writing
applications, and making out invoices.
This is the dreaded un-fun side of the job. The never-ending list of administrative
tasks. The business behind the art.
In large-scale arts companies, this non-musical work is split up among a team of specially dedicated professionals. The musicians deal with the music and the management deals with everything else. Individual artists, when they are established enough to afford it, will also delegate their administrative work.
They might hire an accountant to do their taxes, an agent to book their
gigs, or a personal assistant to take phone calls and manage paperwork. But many of us don’t have the luxury of
separating the business from our art. We
have to be our own agent, accountant, and personal assistant, all rolled into
one.
The freelance musician: a Jack-of-all-trades. |
If you're living in the UK, January means one thing and one thing only: the dreaded annual tax return. Being self-employed can make your taxes more complicated than string theory. You will have several different employers
throughout the year, all with different tax codes. And as if this messy hodge-podge of income
sources wasn't bad enough, there's the matter of tracking business expenses. Every penny you spend for your
music should be accounted for.
The problem is, nobody is entirely sure what counts as a business
expense. Do you claim makeup and hair
products, if you sometimes use them for auditions?
Do you claim heating bills if you teach or practise out of your
home? Musicians are constantly debating over these
questions, and nobody ever seems to reach a solid conclusion. The fact is that there are a lot of blurred lines
in the music business. Nobody knows quite where their business ends and their life begins.
If you work abroad, a tax return can get even more
complicated. The various tax laws and
treaties between countries are enough to confuse an expert in international law. Then again, your
employer might decide to simplify things by charging a “foreigners tax”. In other words, he will take a pickaxe to
your paycheque and chisel off giant chunks until it's no longer recognisable as money.
This is your pay after foreigners tax. |
When I first became self-employed, I was not at all prepared for the Gordonian Knot of
paperwork that awaited me. I hadn't kept track of anything. When the time came to do my tax return, I was in for a nasty surprise! Nowadays I’m fairly fastidious with my records. I keep a diary of my income and expenses,
marking down the date, location, and project for each receipt. It’s tedious work, but I know it will make things much easier when I file my taxes.
Beyond the complicated world of taxes, there is of course the tricky matter of booking work in
the first place. This would be no
problem if the work was regular, but it's not. Music is a business of feast and famine. Some weeks you will be inundated with offers, and other weeks you’ll be left twiddling your thumbs. Music companies seem to have an irritating tendency of scheduling all their performances at the same
time, instead of spreading them out evenly throughout the year. Until Hermione's
time-turner becomes a real thing, and you can actually manage to be in several places at once, you're left with a tough decision. Instead of doing four
projects in a month, as you would like to, you end up choosing only one. Not the most exciting
project, mind you, but the one which pays the most money. And the rest of the month?
With work being so irregular, cashflow is often a problem. When you get booked for a gig, you may think your bank account can heave a sigh of relief. But it's not that simple. Many companies will require you to book and pay
for your own travel and accommodation, only to reimburse you later. You have to pay a lot out of your own pocket before you see any money from your employer. This is on top of the many other
expenses which you regularly invest in to advance your career: lessons,
coachings, masterclasses, young artist programmes, accompanist fees, headshots, website development,
recording sessions, and the list goes on.
You tell yourself it will be worth it in the long run, and it
usually is. But it can take a long time
before you see any tangible monetary results from your investment. The fact is that most musicians have to go
into a large amount of debt before they get paid.
A lot of musicians address this problem by applying for extra funding, whether it's a grant, a scholarship, a bursary, a loan, or a line of credit. And what does that mean? Surprise, surprise. More paperwork.
Send help. Please. |
Now if you're anything like me, you hate this non-musical aspect of the job. The money, the logistics, and
the piles upon piles of paperwork. It’s
the kind of stuff that makes me hate being a grownup. But it’s a necessary evil. Some days I can’t face it, and I let the
paperwork and emails pile up. Other days
I get a burst of motivation and decide to tackle everything head-on. I make up my mind: today is the day! I’m going to be proactive and
professional! I’m going to sort
everything out! I send out a blitz of
emails, and I fill out every application form I can get my hands on.
Oddly enough, not much seems to change after my monumental decision to Get Things Done. As it turns out, just because I've decided to be super-productive and organised, it doesn't mean that everyone else has. And so my
emails sit unanswered in someone else’s inbox.
By the time I get a response, my burst of motivation has ended. I let the work pile up, and the
whole cycle begins again.
Sometimes, however, by some magical alignment of the stars, another
person has decided to Get Things Done at the same time as I have. They get back to me right away, and
everything gets sorted out. We both bask
in a shared glow of smugness and relief, knowing that we've managed to accomplish yet another boring
unsavoury task. It’s pretty much the
best feeling in the world.
When you think about all the petty administrative work and bureaucratic battles that musicians have to tackle, it's amazing that we ever get around to making music And yet, somehow we do.
We do this non-musical work as a labour of love. We love our music. And we know that without the administrative work, the musical work would never happen. So we soldier on, and we fill out more forms. It may be tedious and stressful and unnecessarily complicated. But it's essential work, and somebody has to do it.
And on that note, I have some more applications to fill out. Happy January, everyone!