Australian musicians are uniting in the fight against what they say are “unreasonable” government demands for them to extend their working hours to a minimum of three hours a night.
The calls for longer concerts, which come a matter of days after proposed measures to extend the Australian Tax Office's working day by nine minutes, are being officially tabled by lawmakers after a spate of allegedly short performances around the country that reportedly failed to live up to audience expectations.
“I don't think it's a lot to ask,” regular concert-goer Walter LeBeouf told SPA Confidential outside a prematurely concluded gig last night. “I blew fifty bucks to come tonight and watch two bands I'd never heard of play for the same amount of time as the act I've been waiting half a year to see. Do you know how much weed I could've bought for fifty bucks?
“Not really that much, honestly, but it still would have made for a more fulfilling night than this.”
In the artists' defence, 19-year-old Magda Pullman, who was at the same show, said that she thought the evening's headliners had played for a decent amount of time.
"It was fine," she said. "By the time they came out, we'd already been there for a couple of hours anyway. I'd honestly be happy with the three-hour thing if it was the maximum amount of time a concert could last, including support acts."
Local musicians have riled against the measures, saying that the government is placing unfair amounts of pressure on them to perform. Several independent artists have banded together to form action body Live Artists Against Mandatory Extension, or LAAME.
Don't miss a beat with our FREE daily newsletter
"We can't just perform on command, you know," Queensland-based guitarist and LAAME chairman Steve "Gozza" Gosberg said. "We need to get in the zone before a show, and, moreover, we need to get to the bloody city that we're playing in that night.
“You're asking us to essentially add anywhere from five to seven hours to an already heavy 15- to 19-hour working week,” Gosberg continued. “What other industry is asking for that kind of time commitment? It's totally unreasonable.”
“It's a bloody joke,” echoed Sara Powell, a Victorian keyboardist and singer. “What am I going to have to give up in order to meet these demands? Hacky sack? Drinking at noon? … really; I'm not made of spare time.”
