Back in my twenties, I played in a band that thought we were gonna conquer the world one dive bar at a time. We did the local circuits, booked our own tours, borrowed gear, and sometimes played to 6 people (2 of them being bartenders). We never got signed, but we played hard and toured harder. I learned a lot — mostly the hard way. Here are 10 things I wish someone had told me before we hit the road in our rustbucket of a van.
1. Couchsurfing Beats Motel 6 (and It’s Free)
Hotels are budget killers. We should’ve used Couchsurfing, Warm Showers, or even just posting on Instagram the day before: “We’re playing in Denver — anyone got a floor we can crash on?” Fans want to help. Let them. It turns the road into community, not just pavement.
Bonus tip: Always say yes to a home-cooked meal. Tour is a grind. Hospitality matters.
2. Your Van Is Your Apartment — Treat It That Way
I used to treat the van like a junk closet with wheels. Big mistake. Get plastic bins. Label them. Keep clean clothes away from stage clothes. Use a bungee cord to hang jackets. Keep a USB fan for sleeping in heat. A little order saves a lot of sanity.
And for god’s sake, crack a window at night unless you want to wake up in a sweaty greenhouse.
3. Eat Like You Actually Like Yourself
We lived on gas station jerky and white bread. Dumb. What I know now:
- Grocery stores are your best friend
- $5 gets you bananas, canned beans, tortillas, and avocados
- Chia seeds in bottled water = weird but functional
Eating trash food kills your energy. Touring’s hard enough when you don’t feel like garbage.
4. You Need a Tour Binder (or at Least a Shared Google Doc)
We thought we were punk for not having anything written down. Chaos was cool — until a venue changed doors from 8 to 7 and we missed load-in. Track:
- Addresses
- Promoter contact
- Set times
- Backup plans
Put it in the cloud. Print one copy. Tape it to the dashboard.
5. Murphy’s Law is Your Road Manager
One gig will fall apart. Every tour. Maybe the venue closes. Maybe the promoter flakes. When it happens:
- Have three backup towns within a 2-hour radius
- Bring a busker amp or battery-powered PA
- Hit breweries, art spaces, skateparks — anywhere you can set up
- DM local bands on IG and ask to hop on something last minute
Impromptu shows sometimes slap harder than the scheduled ones.
6. You’re Not Just a Band — You’re a Moving Billboard
Play every show like there’s an A&R in the back. There won’t be — but the kid filming on their phone might post it to 10k followers.
Have merch. Hand out stickers. Make your Instagram handle big and clear at your merch table. Sleep in the van, fine. But make your brand tight.
7. Stretch. Every Morning. No Exceptions.
Tour wrecks your body. Cramped legs, bad shoulders, stiff neck from sleeping on the floor of a stranger’s apartment with a corgi sitting on your face.
Take 10 minutes. Do yoga. Do pushups. Do something. You’ll play better. You’ll sleep better. You’ll stink less.
8. Don’t Get Hammered Every Night
You think it’s part of the lifestyle. And yeah, party a little. But remember:
- You still have to drive
- You still have to play
- And your liver hates you
Pace yourself. Play the long game. Tour is a marathon in cowboy boots.
9. You Need at Least One “Tour Mom” in the Van
Someone who:
- Has the phone charger
- Knows when gas is low
- Texts the promoter at noon
- Finds parking without screaming
It doesn’t have to be your actual mom. Just someone who’s organized. If no one steps up, be that person.
10. Every Show Matters, Even the Empty Ones
We played a Tuesday night in Omaha to 4 people once. We thought about skipping it. One of those four ended up booking us for a college fest the next year. Paid us $2,500.
Play every show like it matters — because sometimes it does in ways you can’t predict.
Final Thoughts
Touring in a broke band taught me more than any day job ever did. It sharpened me. It wore me down and rebuilt me. We didn’t get rich. We didn’t get famous. But we made memories, broke down in California, screamed along to Fugazi in Utah, and got free coffee in Las Vegas just for being “in a band.”
If you’re out there building a route, sleeping in parking lots, and wondering what the hell you’re doing — keep going. The world needs people like you. Unshowered. Loud. Alive.
Tour or die.