Adam Schatz is a musician, writer, record producer and human being. His band Landlady has three records out and another on the way. He most recently produced Allegra Krieger’s album The Joys of Forgetting and has successfully cooked pad thai, soup dumplings and bagels since the pandemic began. He has a monthly Patreon page and that is currently his only monthly income, isn’t that cool? His favorite new hobby is getting emailed by coffee shops he’s been to once. Find him on Twitter here and hear Landlady here.
(Photo credit: Sasha Arutyunova.)
Well well well, look who’s back with another column. I bet you thought I’d commit to a monthly column and then forget to do it. I bet you thought I’d have a blank page on my desk as recently as two weeks ago. Well, let’s just say you were right about one thing. The second thing. Here we go!
Nord Shame
Nord shame Nord shame Nord shame. It’s an affliction you’ve surely heard of in passing, maybe whispered behind you in line at the pharmacy or carved into a headstone at your local Live Nation-owned cemetery (where small venues go to die. It’s nice because no matter what funeral you’re at the WIFI password is always going to be “livenation”). But what IS Nord shame?
Well, picture this: You’re in the audience watching your favorite band play. Your least favorite band member (the keyboardist) is up there doing the overachiever thing, reaching one way to play a melody on one blinking instrument while playing some unnecessary chords on a different synthesizer to the right of them, ordering a new piece of gear on an iPad with their left big toe, and god forbid there’s a melodica within spitting distance. They’re spinning around and juggling and the sounds just keep changing, who knows what’s going on up there??
But finally, the performer turns to play the proud and stoic piano. Nicknamed “Grandma’s Musical Armoire” by John Quincy Adams, the piano has been a staple in parlor rooms across the United States up until 1999 when all parlor rooms were removed and replaced by Tony Hawk Pro Skater Dens.
What’s beautiful about the piano is that even the world’s biggest idiot at the concert (no, not you! The guy next to you…) will know what that bad boy is going to sound like once the keys start getting plunked. And finally, now that the attention deficit ivory tickler has settled into a real instrument, you can go to sleep that night knowing at least that musician is getting into heaven, right?
Wrong! Because by viewing that “piano” from any other angle but head on, you would learn (before being unceremoniously thrown off the stage) that hidden in the keybed of that piano is actually an electric keyboard, most often the Nord Stage Piano or Nord Electro models, produced by the Swedish keyboard manufacturer Clavia. Nords have been an industry standard for a few decades now, perfect for anyone looking for an instrument that sounds realistically like a grand, upright or vintage electric piano, but weighs only as much as a baby goat. And there was a period where no one was afraid to let their instruments be viewed by the public at large. In fact, the Nords have always been easy to spot because of their red paint job. And while a red keyboard doesn’t look quite as cool as a red guitar, you’ve got to remember that keyboards will also never sound quite as cool as guitars. So it makes a lot of sense actually.
But common sense has never been a friend, or even a distant acquaintance of the touring musician, and there is no greater example than the ridiculous charade of the fake empty piano shell on stage. What exactly are we afraid of here? The audience knowing that you purchased the expensive electronic option? A little color being seen on stage? A splash of red is cute. You know what isn’t cute? Making your crew lug a fake piano on stage to hide a smaller fake piano inside of it.
“Now, Adam,” you might be saying, “just calm the fuck down! Surely Nord shame™ can’t be that prevalent of a problem…” To which I would reply, “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” and shake my head slowly until you left my sight. Because all you need to do is open your eyes, and you’ll see the Nord shame all around youuuuuuuuuuuu…
*cue fairly convincing harp sounds played on a Nord*
*cue slideshow of medium-large to large font artists on stage at the Newport Folk Festival, Bonnaroo, and the Live Nation Performing Arts Center for Wayward Teens Whose Parents Have Misplaced Their Laminates.*
Now that I’ve shone a light on this problem you will no doubt begin to notice it everywhere, like chemtrails or the fact that no one says “thank you guv’na” anymore after you hold the door for them.
So what’s the big deal? Everyone lies, right? That drummer is hitting a sample pad that makes a siren sound, and you know he’s not a licensed EMT. That singer is drinking wine straight out of a bottle that’s actually full of FIJI water clouded with Emergen-C. And did you know that every band you see on stage actually has an engineer hiding amongst the regular joes in the audience who makes them sound good? And don’t get me started about service fees for concert tickets not actually being used to fund a service where a poodle brings you a seltzer during the opening act.
It’s true, deception is baked into the foundation of the music industry. But it’s a slippery slope. What’s next, ABBA sitting at home while their holograms collect huge pay-days so that their holograndchildren can afford to go to the Live Nation School for Translucent Nepobabies?
“But Adam, I’m just one person. What can I do to fight Nord Shame?” Stop shouting… I hear you. Thank goodness you’ve come to the right place. As always, I’ve got solutions.
My Suggestions for How To Combat Nord Shame:
- We can make the fake piano shell less lonely by placing other pieces of living room furniture on the stage. Throw a bookcase in front of the drummer, a lamp shade on the rhythm guitarist’s head, put a pot roast in the fog machine… Now we’re getting somewhere.
- Make the performers feel more confident about their Nords. Loudly reassure them at concerts, and bring your own amplification if you’re worried they might not hear you over the sound of their over-playing. Some phrases you might use are, “Don’t feel bad little buddy, it’s cool to have a Nord!” or “STOP THE LIES!”
- Throw red paint on the stage, until everything is red, and be sure to give a knowing wink as security drags you away.
- Boycott all live music until the illusion is called off, and also until that poodle seltzer thing starts happening.
- Double down on the deceit and make everything on stage look like a piano. See that piano up there singing? That’s actually Anthony Kiedis. And that piano hitting smaller pianos with piano sticks? Why, that’s drummer Chad Smith. And you know who that naked piano playing the sideways piano is…
And those are just my best ideas! Imagine the good we could impart if anyone, even just one person started taking me seriously. But that’s an issue for another day. In the meantime, remember: If you see Nord shame, say Nord shame. Change won’t come unless we start being loud and belligerent about a problem we just learned about from someone on the internet.
Until next time.
