The Phone Call You Don't Want at 5 AM
Years ago, when I was still on the audio side of things, I got a phone call early one morning that I'll never forget. It wasn't my artist's manager. It wasn't the promoter. It was the production manager — and he was in full panic mode.
We were playing a county fair. The PM had forgotten to tell the venue that we were carrying our own PA system. The fair had their own house vendor, a contractor who supplied their permanent in-house rig, and that system was already loaded in and hanging. Our gear was sitting on a truck.
He didn't call me to solve a logistics problem. He called me and my fellow engineer to ask us to come up with a legitimate technical reason why our PA couldn't go up that day — something he could use to cover himself with the artist, who was going to lose his mind if we weren't running our own system. He wanted a story.
I told him there was no legitimate story to tell. There was no reason our PA couldn't go up. It just hadn't been advanced properly.
"The show runs smooth because the advance was thorough. Everything else is just damage control."
We ended up going directly to the fair promoter, explained the situation straight, and asked them to have the house vendor pull their rig. To their credit, they did. We loaded in our PA, the show went on, and the artist never had to know there was nearly a problem. But that PM spent the whole day knowing exactly how close he came to a very bad conversation. All of it — every bit of that stress — was the result of one thing: an assumption.
The Most Expensive Word in This Business
The assumption was simple: we've played this fair before, so we know how it works. I hear some version of that logic all the time, and it causes problems every time.
Venues change. Staff turns over. Vendor contracts get renegotiated between your last visit and this one. Ownership changes hands. A new general manager comes in and restructures how things are done. The local crew coordinator who knew your show inside and out retired six months ago and nobody told you. The dock that fit your longest trailer last time is now blocked by a new vendor tent that went up for the season.
None of that shows up in last year's advance notes. It shows up when you pull onto the lot and something is wrong.
The PM who called me that morning had been to that fair before. He knew the promoter. He thought he knew what to expect. What he didn't do was pick up the phone and ask the questions. That's the whole job.
What I Actually Check — Every Single Time
At this point in my career, managing stadium and arena-level productions, there are four areas I advance on every show without exception. No matter how familiar the venue. No matter how many times we've been there.
- Local Labor — Timing and Numbers. How many locals are being called? What time do they start? Are they IATSE? What's the call structure? If I've got a specific load-in timeline and the stagehands don't show until two hours after I expected them, the whole day falls apart. I verify crew counts and call times on every advance call. Every one.
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Show Power Availability. Every department needs power, and it's my job to confirm the venue can deliver it before the trucks roll in. Requirements shift by tour and by venue, but on our current run this is what we're working with:
Lighting — 2 @ 400A 3-phase 120/208v USR & 1 @ 200A 3-phase 120/208v USR Audio — 200A 3-phase 120/208v DSL (can pull from both sides if available) Video — 400A 3-phase 120/208v USC Rigging / Automation — 200A 3-phase 120/208v USR Buses — 9 × 60A 240v Standard RV plugs If the venue can't deliver, we need to know early enough to bring in generators — not at 7 AM on show day. - Docks and Parking. How many trucks are we bringing in? How many can the dock handle at once? Where does the bus park? What's the load-in sequence? These logistics look simple on paper and become genuinely complicated on a stadium lot with six other events happening the same weekend. You need the conversation ahead of time, not a traffic jam at 6 AM.
- Audio dB Limits. Every city, every venue, every outdoor event is different. Municipal ordinances change. Neighborhood complaints get filed between tours. Venues revise their permits. If I don't know the dB cap before load-in, I might not find out until a city noise inspector is standing at FOH asking us to turn down mid-show. That conversation should never happen.
Ask All the Questions. No Exceptions.
I've had people tell me they don't want to seem like they don't know what they're doing by asking too many questions. I'd argue the opposite is true. The PMs who ask every question — even the ones that feel obvious — are the ones who show up prepared. The ones who assume are the ones calling engineers at 5 in the morning looking for cover.
There is no such thing as a dumb advance question. There are only questions you asked and questions you didn't. The ones you didn't ask are the ones that become problems.
When I advance a show, I want the venue rep on the other end of that call to finish up thinking, this production manager has their act together. That reputation travels. This industry is smaller than it looks, and the way you run your advance reflects directly on your professionalism and on the artist you're working for.
Pass It On
I've been doing this for over thirty years. I learned a lot of what I know from people who were generous enough to share it — veterans who didn't have to take the time to explain how things worked but did anyway. I think that's how this industry is supposed to function.
If you're coming up and you want to talk through how to build an advance process, or you've got a specific situation you're trying to figure out, my contact info is on this site. Reach out. I'm glad to help.
And if you're a PM who ever finds yourself tempted to skip an advance call because you've been to the venue before — don't. Pick up the phone. Ask the questions. Every single one of them.
That county fair PM learned that lesson the hard way. You don't have to.