The Gap and how success doesn’t get easier.
Whether you are just starting or you’ve been performing for a while, you will inevitably face what I call “the Gap”.
Imagine this: The band Lazer Face was once the hottest band in the area. Larry, the lead singer, was on fire! Literally, he would light his pants on fire and run around while singing Blue Oyster Cult’s “Burnin’ For You.” On paper, these guys have it all—they play all the hits like “Cumbersome,” “Hard to Handle,” and they even have an original “i found love at loves”. To top it off, they have been around for over 10 years! With all that going for them, why did people quit caring 9 years ago and why is that crappy band Lizard Lover, who has only been together for 2 weeks, killing it? What gives?
There could be many reasons, but this article is about the unseen—the thing bands fail to think about: THE GAP.
What is the Gap?
Think of your relationship with your audience as a gap—a space between what they expect and what you deliver. When you’re starting out, that gap is easy to maintain. Play three chords correctly, remember your lyrics, don’t fall off stage—congratulations, you’ve exceeded expectations! Your first fans are thrilled by your raw potential and want to be a part of your future success. To them, it’s like seeing a small child riding a bike for the first time. To top it off, as a band member, you’ve just experienced something that has changed your life: a feeling nothing can describe as people clap at your somewhat poorly done rendition of “Wagon Wheel.” (Warning: this is the type of seed that makes you start believing your own BS – not good)
But here’s the rub: the better you get, the higher the bar rises and the more people expect.
That gap—your edge of excellence—naturally shrinks as your audience becomes acclimated to your brilliance. The guitar solo that dropped jaws last year? Now it’s “that thing you always do.” The high note that made people grab their phones to record? Now they’d notice if you didn’t hit it. Even Larry, the lead singer with his flaming crotch, gets laughed at now.
And that’s the problem. As your audience’s expectations increase, your performance and entertainment value must increase to stay relevant. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been around or how good you are/were, if folks continue to consume the same thing. It would be like eating the same food every day.
Maintaining the Magic
So here’s the deal: The bands that endure aren’t necessarily the most talented—they’re the ones who understand this paradox and adapt accordingly. They know that yesterday’s innovation is tomorrow’s cliché.
The key is to continuously reinvent while maintaining your essence. Push your boundaries before your audience pushes you. Experiment with your sound, look, songs, and performance before familiarity breeds complacency. The most successful folks I’ve worked with treat every achievement as a new starting line, not a finish line.
The Healthy Hustle
This doesn’t mean you need to burn yourself out chasing an ever-rising bar. It means being strategic about how you evolve:
- Surprise your audience before they realize they’re bored
- Study outside your genre to bring fresh elements into your work
- Document your journey so fans grow with you, not just watch you
The Brutal Truth
I’ve watched countless bands implode right when they seemed to be “making it.” They couldn’t handle the psychological whiplash of having everything they dreamed of while simultaneously feeling like it’s never enough. I’ve watched people who dedicated their life to “making it” do the same things over and over and expect different results, all while the gap got smaller and folks quit caring. Going from “Big things coming” to “Nobody coming”.
It never gets easier—but you can get better at navigating the complexity.
Your first gig was terrifying in its simplicity. Your hundredth is complicated in its familiarity. Your thousandth requires reinvention to feel alive, or you look like you’re not having fun—and that tells your audience they’re not having fun (and the gap closes).
The goalposts aren’t just moving—they’re on wheels, constantly rolling away just as you approach them.
Everything Is Relative
I’ll leave you with this: The reason your band might feel like it’s not as good as it once was isn’t because you’re not. It’s likely because the gap has become harder to maintain, and you look back not realizing the expectation back then was virtually nothing. It’s all relative.
A friend once told me about this guy who works out twice daily, spends hours reading books for pleasure, and even has sex twice a day—every day! Sounds like the dream life, right? Except he hates it because he’s in prison. It’s all relative.
In a nutshell, the day it feels easy is the day before your audience moves on to something more exciting or to a band that has a bigger relative gap.
So keep widening that gap. Keep surprising yourself first, then your audience. And remember—success doesn’t eliminate the struggle; it just puts it on a bigger stage with better lighting. Rock on.