PA al fresco

Even for gigs I’ve done before, I try to be as organised as possible, because when it comes to portable live sound the outdoors can be a pretty unforgiving place. There’s no toilet just down the corridor, there’s no magic store room that you can plunder for extra tables, and unless you’re in a town centre location it may be difficult to buy small essential sundries such as batteries, tape and Jaffa Cakes. Many of the live sound issues are the same whether you’re working inside or out, but outdoors the problems — particularly physical ones — seem to be magnified, and the consequences of getting it wrong can be more painful! My own way of dealing with all this is to use the good old ‘UPD’ management technique, which is ‘understand, plan and deliver’.

Another real and recent example was where I asked, “Is there a suitable power supply in the field?” and was told that a generator had already been hired from the “same people as before” and that it had been absolutely fine last time. Feeling the need for a little more clarity, I then asked (a) what size of generator they had hired and (b) what type of output connector it had, and was patiently told (a) a bit bigger than a Tesco bag and (b) a plug you can plug into. It turned out that the previous event had been a fundraising tea with a few party lights. So it’s always worth asking a follow-up question — better to ask an extra dumb question than not to know.

The intended audio coverage is what dictates the main rig, and (bearing in mind I generally don’t do spaces larger than a couple of football pitches) I will use anything from my JBL VRX932/SRX718 rig down to one of my HK L.U.C.A.S systems for the smaller stuff. This year, however, I have been trying out the KX Audio gear, recently reviewed in issue 22 (July 2009) of Performing Musician, and I’ve used that very successfully for every outdoor job except the two biggest concerts.

A major consideration, and something else to be nailed with the organisers, is where the sound system will be located, as this is sometimes overlooked when planning community events. I have a couple of heavy-duty scaffold towers that I can easily take along for the main speakers, and I would consider using these if I had to cover a target area more than 20 to 30m deep, just to achieve a decent height for the top boxes. Sideways coverage is also much more important when working outside, owing to the frequent lack of walls, and I’ve come to the conclusion that there really is no substitute for good high-power, wide-dispersion cabinets (both the VRX and the KX Audio boxes are extremely good at this), rather than using multiple cabs and messing around with splay angles to achieve an acceptable balance between coverage and quality. For outdoor gigs, I generally use the most powerful rig that is an appropriate physical size for the event, as there are fewer reflections to subjectively assist sound levels, and the audience will tend to spread out and still expect to hear everything at a respectable volume.

In terms of being prepared, I have a more than adequate quantity of heavy-duty bin bags and plastic tarps, some of which are large enough to wrap an entire speaker stack. I also have an especially large, strong one with a set of tie-down ropes already fastened in place that can be pulled quickly over a 4 x 4m gazebo (gazebos are generally sold as ‘shower-proof’, which means that they will definitely leak when it rains). Being an owner-operator, I need to take good care of my inventory, and that includes not getting it wet, so if I think there’s a risk of rain, I will use passive speakers and I will tend to deploy my ‘lending’ gear as far as possible. Over the years, I have built up a useful stock of equipment that performs well enough but isn’t worth much, or has been demoted from the front line, having seen better days. And with this gear I’m not quite so precious about the odd shower or bit of mud.

Climate-wise, it’s not just the rain I worry about. There are, occasionally, hot and sunny days in this country, and I also have a supply of electric fans, which have in the past proved essential for keeping things cool. It’s worth remembering that anything which is designed to dissipate heat is also likely to be pretty good at absorbing it, a good example being the heat sink fins on the back of active monitors, which will tend to sit near the front of the stage.

The other side of outdoor-related requirements is the so-called ‘controllable’ part. This includes things like the size, shape and suitability of the stage area, the location of the mix position, and what to do if it rains a lot. I never cease to wonder at organisers who I meet huddled in a doorway or under a tree looking glumly at the monsoon conditions and saying, ‘What do you reckon then?’ What I reckon is why they hadn’t considered the slight possibility that this might happen! A serious point, though, is to make it absolutely clear to the organiser that there are certain safety-related conditions that must be met for the sound system to be rigged, let alone switched on and used. And when confirming a booking, I address the issue of what the wet weather plan is and at what point I am considered ‘cancelled’, and, of course, all the associated financial implications.

Part of my plan is simply to be prepared for anything I’ve previously encountered, and having decided on gear and crew, I write out my inventory pick list by thinking through the entire gig in advance as far as I can. Then pin it up just inside the loading bay, where I will walk past it a few times before the day and then use it as a loading checklist. I list the equipment according to its position in the audio chain, all the way from musician to audience. I will start with all the stage gear like mics and stands, then follow the signal path (leads, snake, desk, outboard, returns, amp rack, mains, monitors), before considering all the peripheral but essential hardware such as cable covers, tarps, rope, bungee straps and, of course, power cables and distros (mains distribution).

The core elements of the rig are pretty easy to remember, but as a person who tends to forget life’s little peripherals (wife’s birthday, road tax and so on), I like to keep a special road trunk packed with everything I might need when working outside. My ‘bits case’ is my ‘get out of jail’ card and it contains a large quantity of useful stuff, including masking tape, pens, clip-on fans, adaptors of every kind (I can convert a 1939 Bakelite ‘wireless’ speaker plug to balanced XLR and back again), batteries, chargers, emergency mobile phone, medical kit, sun cream, tools, hand wipes, a homemade test oscillator, string, a hotel sewing kit, and clothes pegs for helping out musicians in windy conditions. If a nearby horse has a stone in its hoof, I can also help.

The rest of the preparation is really all about checking — and testing, if in any doubt — that everything is working properly, the electrical safety records are complete and up-to-date, and thinking ahead about the logistics on the day. When planning my time, I always allow a full hour longer than I think I will need for getting in and setting up, just in case. I try to pack the van in such a way as to leave any safety-net ‘nice to have’ items furthest from the doors to avoid unnecessary unloading at the other end, and I have a good supply of foam slabs, which are great for preventing sliding, rattles and damage (or for having a lie down if the opportunity arises).

Finally, I go one better than the Owl and the Pussycat and take a supply of food, drink and cash (they only had food and money — what do they know?), as it’s much cheaper than buying snacks at a garage and most chip shops don’t do credit cards. If anyone’s interested, I have established scientifically that the best drink for outdoor gigs is a 50/50 mix of Ribena and lime cordial (don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it!).

The very first thing I do on arrival is try and secure a good long-term parking spot for the van. Unloading is usually no problem, but then comes the “you’ll need to move it” part, to which I normally reply that I will need access to some of the electrical equipment (don’t just say ‘gear’) during the show or else I’ll have to run big power cables across to it. It’s at this point that person-to-person communication plays a huge part in the potential success of my day, and I try to establish friendly contact with any humans who may be in a position to make my job easier. It’s not at all uncommon for the organiser to be nowhere around, but the security bloke will be right there, bristling with radios and badges, and it’s important to appreciate the difference between authority and power. If you’ve ever rehearsed in a school hall, you’ll know that the head teacher has the authority but the caretaker is the one with the power.

The electricity supply is something that depends on people involvement, so I like to get that sorted before anything else (just about everything else is an immovable feast by the time the sound crew arrive anyway), and I cross my fingers and toes and hope that it’s a nice big generator or a nice big blue mains outlet. A couple of seasons back, I was booked to reinforce the sound at a very, very posh private opera gig (posh = lawns, not grass), where the unfortunate factotum responsible for making all the arrangements was in the process of being fired by the owner. Although he had specified a 40kVA generator, he had forgotten to include the words ‘super-silent’ and had managed to procure a yellow monstrosity used for mending motorways.

Where the generator is supplied by a professional company, there are usually distribution boxes with it, providing several 13-amp sockets, but I never take this for granted and I always travel with a complete set of outdoor-rated distribution cables and distros with built-in breakers and protection devices. The three types of connector usually encountered are the domestic 13-amp (square-pin) type, and the 16-amp and 32-amp versions of the round, blue connectors known as ‘ceeform’. I have various adaptors made up that will get me from any format to any other format, and so long as everything is correctly rated (and maintained and tested), this hasn’t ever been a problem. As the generator suppliers don’t know exactly where the unit will be positioned, they don’t usually drive the earth spike into the ground — and they don’t usually leave you their big hammer either, so that’s another item that travels with me to outside jobs. If the ground is dry or hard, I pour water where the earth spike will be hammered in, which makes that particular task a bit easier, and I also carry an RCD tester to make sure the protection is functional.

As soon as I have the basic sound system up and running, I like to organise and tidy the back of the van, ready for reloading, especially if it’s likely to get dark before we start packing up. I don’t usually provide stage lighting, but whoever does will want to go home afterwards just like everybody else, so I try to remember to pack a couple of halogen worklights so that we can see what we’re doing. If there’s nothing else available, the van headlights can be used as the last resort but, of course, they are illuminating the area in front of the van and we’re loading the other end, so a good, strong torch is essential for spotting stray items that would otherwise be left behind in the dark. Main crewman Paul wears this ridiculous-looking LED thing strapped to his head — I call him ‘Torchy the Battery Boy’ to annoy him — but it’s actually a very effective tool.

Another valuable lesson I have learned is never to operate a vehicle tail lift unless the engine is running. It’s all too easy to overlook this during the afternoon when the sun is shining and the birds are singing, but a flat battery at 1.00am in the middle of a field in the Forest of Dean isn’t something I would want to do again.

Speaker placement, where possible, is my main tool, and I go and check out the sound from a number of audience spots to see if there are any large variations or holes in the material. I’ve never come up with an overall golden rule for placing the speakers (given that I’m only using a maximum of three subs and two tops each side), but I do find that moving the subs around can have a marked effect, and angling the top boxes down slightly can help. I place the subs directly on the grass, if possible, levelling them with pieces of plastic chopping board from Poundstretcher. And if I’m using left and right stacks, I try to keep them as close together as possible without impeding sight lines to and from the stage. My personal preference is to run in mono, and time spent walking the field ensuring that coverage is as consistent and even as possible is time well spent.

If I’m very lucky or have been very persuasive, the event organiser will have provided proper solid barriers, which will divide the public spaces from the technical area, and a simple line of barriers running from the front of the stage to an off-centre mix position is a great way of protecting the cables from the crowd and vice versa (it is a fact that people will stand on, jump on or try tightrope walking along any cable they find). Another inescapable feature of smaller open-air events is that the audience have easy access to the sound crew. And while I don’t mind people poking their heads into the tent and telling me that the guitar needs to be 2dB higher (happened twice, actually, and it was his dad both times), I do object to shrieking kids playing football using me as the goal, or inebriated tattooed persons tumbling uninvited into my place of work.

If the weather stays dry, the rest of the show should be free from worry, so long as nothing breaks. If rain looks likely, we will place tarps next to exposed equipment (normally only speakers that are forward of the stage canopy, if there is one) and then pull them quickly into place if necessary. It’s not ideal running with a poly sheet covering the speakers, but at least the show can go on, so long as the gear is checked regularly to make sure water isn’t running down the inside of the tarps or along the leads (make sure leads slope down from the connectors) and no vents are obstructed. An instant, cheap rain hood can be made by sliding a couple of bamboo canes between the tarp and the top of the speaker cabinet, leaving a foot or so sticking out over the front edge, which will form a canopy to keep rain off, but will hold the tarp clear of the horn exit — the weight of the tarp will hold the canes in place and the HF won’t be completely muffled. Somewhere in the bottom of the ‘special’ trunk there’s a fan heater that can be used for emergency drying out, but if water gets into anything electrical, it’s best to take it home and let it dry out naturally over a few days.

I put all the smallest (easily misplaced) items into their cases first, and we assemble the gear just behind the van so that I can check it all in, followed by a final mental run-down of all the system components from mics to speakers, as before. I usually bundle wet tarps together and put them on the van floor or in the cab so that any trapped water can’t trickle into anything, but loading after a gig is always more rushed than beforehand, and the van always seems to have shrunk somewhat. If we’re loading in the dark or rain, I just like to get everything on board and get back to base, where I can spend time checking, cleaning and repairing as required.

I’ve banged on about wet weather, but dust and dry grass can also be a problem, and fan filters need to be kept clean. After a wet gig, my least favourite job is cleaning and drying the mic stands, which do need to be wiped down or they’ll develop a layer of rust that will spoil their appearance. A very light spray with electrical contact cleaner/lubricant can help, but should be wiped off afterwards.

My golden rule is never to assume that everything is back in the correct case and in full working order unless I’ve checked, and far better to do it now than in a panic when rushing out to the next job. I make a point of properly testing critical leads — for example, the Cat 5 cables that run between my M-400 mixer and Digital Snake boxes — and I leave the mic cases open for a day or so to let any remaining moisture dry out.

I haven’t touched on everything, by any means, as working live sound in the open air can involve so many things. I do know that a well-planned, incident-free and successful outdoor gig can be very demanding, but also the most rewarding of jobs. The potential for problems will always be there, but with the right rig, a good crew and a big enough van, there’s an awful lot of fun waiting to be had.  0