Kevin Kelly vs. Doug Stanhope

As a performer / creator I have long been intrigued by Kevin Kelly's 1,000 True Fans idea.  The logic is pretty simple; first you find your fans: -

A True Fan is defined as someone who will purchase anything and everything you produce. They will drive 200 miles to see you sing. They will buy the super deluxe re-issued hi-res box set of your stuff even though they have the low-res version. They have a Google Alert set for your name. They bookmark the eBay page where your out-of-print editions show up. They come to your openings. They have you sign their copies. They buy the t-shirt, and the mug, and the hat. They can't wait till you issue your next work. They are true fans.

Then you monetise: -

Assume conservatively that your True Fans will each spend one day's wages per year in support of what you do. That "one-day-wage" is an average, because of course your truest fans will spend a lot more than that.  Let's peg that per diem each True Fan spends at $100 per year. If you have 1,000 fans that sums up to $100,000 per year, which minus some modest expenses, is a living for most folks.

A growing number of the smarter comics I know are thinking seriously about this.  The most commonly cited example of such a comedy career is Doug Stanhope.  Apparently Stanhope has built up such an enthusiastic following over the last twenty years that he can book and fill a theatre in any American city without the involvement of a local promoter.  He negotiates directly with the venue, sets his own ticket prices and owns 100% of the merchandising rights.  Better still, his online following is so strong he hardly need bother with local advertising; by the time you've heard Doug Stanhope is playing your town chances are his fans have already snapped up every ticket.

He's currently doing a run at the Leicester Square Theatre and I went along last night.  I wanted to see a genuine American shock comic and get a look at some of those Kellyesque True Fans.  The audience was 80% male twentysomethings few of whom, in the words of my wife, 'had ever known the touch of a woman'.  I found the show horribly misogynistic, needlessly abrasive and deeply, deeply cynical but I can't say I wasn't warned. 

I'm never going to be one of Doug Stanhope's True Fans.  I'm too old and insufficiently scared of women.  Last night I was happy to be in the minority who didn't adore the show (one punter delivered a Jagermeister to him on stage) before queueing to buy his CD's, DVD's and T-Shirts.  These guys would defend him as one of those comics that you either get or you don't.  You have to buy into his lazy libertarianism to see his act in the right light (4 stars from the Guardian?  Really?)

No one can argue with the fact that Stanhope has made a very successful career out of telling truly appalling jokes very well.  The lesson is that if you want those 1,000 True Fans (and he has many more than that) then you probably have to position yourself at the margin.  True Fandom is exclusionary as well as self-selecting.  If the plan is to create an act that would sustain you with 1,000 fans but that would-doubtless-appeal-to-many-more-if-they-only-knew-about-you then you're actually playing a different game.

Stanhope's entire professional career depends on him wanting to spend his nights with audiences like last night.  He seems perfectly happy to be owned by them.  He has to be.  True Fans crave authenticity above all else.