an agent told us we had to pay our dues before we would move up to the big time.
Huh. At least you were lied to. Our agent didn't bother. I guess if you'd've asked us (not that we all agreed), we might've thought we were paying dues (and a few bills) while we worked up material for a studio trip and then, inevitably, discovery. (We did work up the material, and did the studio...discovery, alas, was severely limited.)
The agent didn't bother. She knew her gigs led nowhere, and she'd book us as whatever kind of music the venue was looking for (whether we played it or not), and the deeper we plunged into Appalachia, the more gigs we found where people came just because there was no other choice if they wanted to drink to live music.
That didn't mean they were disposed to like us, any more than we were disposed to like the gigs. It did lead to harrowing (and occasionally hilarious) adventures.
Actually, we were playing ... because we liked playing.