DU Musicians! Got a funny/weird gig story?

[Blue-Jay]

I'll go first.

About six years ago when my band was first getting started, we were scraping to find gigs. We would play anywhere for almost no money, just to tighten up our act. The result of our willingness to play at any venue was that we accepted jobs at places that were "seedy" at best.

One of these places was called Marsha's in New Carlisle, Ohio. What a hole that place was! One weekend we played there, a guy got punched and fell down, hitting his head in the process. There were people stepping over him for several minutes to get to the bar, before someone thought to check for a pulse. There wasn't one.

That's the kind of place that Marsha's was, but I'm digressing...

Another weekend, we showed up to be greeted by a large pile of human feces on the stage. Yep. Shit. I ran over to the bar and yelled for the owner.

"Marsha! Why is there a pile of shit on the stage?!?!"

Her reply?

"Oh, that damn rock band that was here last week....."

[Lydia Leftcoast]

1. Back in the 1980s, I sang with an ethnic dance group

and we were hired to perform for a convention of... Airstreamers! We arrived at the site to find it surrounded by silver Twinkies on wheels, which was bizarre in itself.

We shared the bill with a Canadian group dance troupe. So far, so good. Our acts fit well together.

As the two groups stood on the stage for their curtain call, a man came out and started soliciting funds for the restoration of the Statue of Liberty. That wouldn't have been so bad except that he told the entire history of the statue and then went into a speech about how America was the greatest country in the world, the only truly free country, and the only bulwark against godless Communism.

I could see the Canadians on the other side of the stage clenching their fists and frowning, and the speaker was going on so long that if the Canadians had decided to tear him to pieces, we would have been glad to help.

For the rest of the time I was with the troupe, the very words "Statue of Liberty" were enough to elicit cries of "Aaarrgggh!"

[Philostopher]

2. I'm not a musician ...

nor do I play one on TV, but my ex was a sound engineer and I witnessed a lot of interesting stuff over the ten years I was with him.

One of my favorites wasn't even a show I was involved in, other than paying the door, though. Went to a show at a pool hall that had bands down near Cincinnati -- a friend was in from out of town and wanted to see a blues band, and I knew the band that was playing was usually pretty reliable. Once the singer/guitarist had quit drinking, you could count on them, anyhow.

Toward the end of the first set, one of the patrons -- let's call him Bubba -- had become a little oversaturated while he was playing pool with three or four of his buddies, off to the side. He was a big, hefty guy with a long, blond mullet, and he kept approaching the stage in the middle of the songs, trying to carry on a conversation with the singer/guitarist while he was playing.

Now, this singer/guitarist had a bit of a reputation for having a short fuse -- he'd quit drinking, and once he had, though the shows improved, his patience with hecklers diminished. He didn't put up with a lot of BS.

Bubba made about his fifth approach to the stage. This time, he actually stepped up onto the stage and tried to get in the guitarist's face. 'Our Hero' smiled at Bubba and then, in the middle of the solo, punched him somewhere (couldn't see whether it was in the chest or the face, the guy had his back to me) without missing a note of his solo.

Bubba went over flat on his back on the floor in front of the stage. He didn't get up. Funniest thing was, his friends didn't seem pissed off about it at all, and nobody else came anywhere near the stage until the song was over and the band announced a set break. Around this time, the local gendarmes entered, slapped the guy awake and cuffed him to lead him out. His friends never made a peep, and they stayed on into the next set, when my friend and I left.

[opiate69]

3. a couple...

Back in the mid-90s, my band finally worked it's way up to playing the RKNDY (rock-candy), in downtown Seattle. The club always had this huge reputation for being the Seattle club, since bands like Soundgarden, Alice in Chains and Nirvana cut their teeth on it's stage.. after driving in the van for 40 minutes to get there, I had to take a leak like you wouldn't believe, so.. I go in to the mens room, whereupon I find 2 dead rats floating in the toilet... just sorta slammed home the "myth vs. reality" thing..

Earlier, I was playing in a cover band, and the other guitar player was kind of a nut case.. he had this really, really cute girlfriend.. well, we were playing in this little club in Chehalis, Washington, and the stage was literally the roof of the office.. we had to lug all the gear up a spiral staircase about 8 feet high.. so.. we're in the middle of some cheesy cover tune, and the guitarist notices his girlfriend dancing with some dude.. he stops playing, leans over the railing and starts yelling at them, threatening to do all sorts of bodily harm to him.. then he puts his guitar down and starts trying to get down the stairs.. me and our bass player had to tackle him... of course, this is the same idiot who was late for a gig in a tiny little town just outside of Mt Rainier, who walks into the bar about 25 minutes after 9 (we were supposed to start at 9..), and says at the top of his lungs "Sorry I'm late.. but I just made $5,000 on a big coke deal!"...

[Bonhomme Richard]

4. We were playing a gig and.....

I'm playing rhythm guitar and doing the lead vocal. A bunch of people were dancing right in front of us when I look down and there is a pistol laying on the dance floor right in front of me. I then look over at the lead guitarist, he looks down and gives me a look. We couldn't stop playing in the middle of the tune so we kept going. Next thing I know a chick bends over, reaches down and picks up the pistol and puts it in her fanny pack. Then she heads straight for the door. Really weird. The manager comes up after the tune and asked us about it but she had disappeared.
Lucky it didn't go off when it hit the floor.

[Blue-Jay]

5. Yeah, guns. Just last night, someone flashed a gun.

Apparently, he had gotten into an argument with someone else at the bar. Fearing that he'd get stomped, he opened the coat he was wearing to show the gun and then took off out the door. Brave dude, eh? Anyhow, the police got him before he got out of the parking lot. Right place, right time.

[asthmaticeog]

6. Following a "poet"

A band I was in in Cleveland in the mid '90s was asked by some friends of ours in Akron to play this outdoor arts & music thing held in conjuncton with the Art dept. of Akron U. Outdoor gigs always being great fun, and since we could help our friends out (we had a good enough draw back then to help out the fest's turnout in general), we said "sure."

Day of gig: we arrive, we're given the schedule, and find that there are non-musical acts interspersed between bands on the stage. "Cool!" sez I, as I kind of dig diverse bills. We were to follow a "confrontational performance slam-poet."

The guy sucks. Wildly. He's whiny, self-pitying, more pointlessly abusive than "confrontational," and generally such a turnoff that he cleared the performance stage area of all attendees but one, whom I presumed to be his girlfriend. By the time we got on, we played to no-one - everyone had fled to the arts & craft galleries to get a way from this weenie. About halfway through our hour, people started to come back. The crowd grew larger and showed some enthusiasm. So of course then the fuses blew. No power to the P.A. (about which we didn't care, we were an instrumental band), no power to the stage (big problem - no acoustic instruments, just big 'ol amps). End of show. Turns out the whole setup originated from a single extension cord leading into the ceramics department, whose electrical load was already burdened with a bunch of kilns. Duh.

And nobody even offered to get us baked for our trouble.

[Bonhomme Richard]

7. Oh Yeah, played a biker bar

This place was classic. All the Harley's lined up in a row out front as if you bumped one they would all go down in a row. Never Saw so much leather and chains in one place and I'm just talking about the chicks. We were playing and getting a good response from the crowd up until we started to play Born to be Wild by Steppenwolf. All of a sudden the place gets real quite and I was beginning to think we made a major blunder. Everyone just turned and stared at us. Strange. As soon as we finished the tune the whole place erupted to massive applause. It was as if we were playing the national anthem or something.
Anyway it was a great place to play. Not much money but the owner was great and really went out of her way to make us comfortable. Wouldn't let us leave at the end of the night until we sat and did shots with her. It was a good time.
Sometimes it's not about the money. I always wanted to go back but the drummer was scared to death of the place.

[opiate69]

9. speaking of biker bars....

One of my old bands was playing at the quintessential biker bar a few years ago.. the opening band's singer was a typical "cutie-pie" hair-band type of guy.. 6' tall, skinny as a rail, with long blonde hair.. jeans 2 sizes too small.. so.. they're playing their set, and IIRC, it was pretty close to the 4th of July.. people were throwing firecrackers all over the place, and a few landed up on stage.. their guitarist had the last BC Rich that the American custom shop ever made,9supposedly it was appraised at around $15,000) and I guess a few of the firecrackers landed a bit too close to it.. the singer gets on the mic and starts this whole "who wants to get their fucking ass kicked?" rant.. so this massive biker walks up to the front of the stage and casually lights a firecracker and throws it right at the singer.. I'm still not sure how an all-out melee was avoided that night..

[Bonhomme Richard]

10. LOL How stupid could a person be

First thing is working with an expensive guitar, second calling out bikers.

HaH!

[Blue-Jay]

11. Hahaha! I miss playing in biker bars.

My old band in Illinois used to play a "circuit" of biker bars and the occasional ABATE rodeo. I don't know why, but those places treated us like freakin' royalty or something. Of course, we never threatened to beat anyone's ass.

[opiate69]

12. lol.. good times, as Adam would say..

One of these days I should think about writing all this stuff down...

[jpgray]

8. Working off our drummer's community service in a special needs camp

Just like the Cows, LOL. We had to tone down our setlist a little--'He's A Whore' for example wasn't quite appropriate. But they were a very enthusiastic audience, at least. There was one strange moment when a counselor came up and said his mom had died one year ago that day and wanted us to play 'Dust in the Wind'. We muddled through 'Knockin' On Heaven's Door' instead while he sat down and cried through the whole thing.

It was a surreal experience, to say the least. We really sucked back then, though. :D

[Bonhomme Richard]

13. Got another one.

I was down in Key west with some friend and went for drinks at Capt. Tony's Sallon. I was talking to the girl who was playing there and she offered me her guitar and to get up and play. I took her up on the offer and played a few tunes when I looked out and a friend from CT was at the bar. Now I had no idea he was going to be in key west and was talking to him the week before. Freaked me out. Well, I continued to play and when I finished I went to give the girl working the bar her guitar back. She goes to give me a kiss so I fiqured to do the peck on the cheek thing. Lo and behold she plants a big sloppy one on me, tongue and all and when I turned that friend of mines wife was standing right there. She is also a good friend of my wife so I fiqured my goose was cooked. LOL, she could have blackmailed the shit out of me.
God I miss playing out.

[bbernardini]

14. A few...interesting to some, perhaps...

1. I used to play in a band that was sort of a Grateful Dead tribute band. Dead tunes, Doors, some original stuff, blues, the usual. We're playing this material at a biker bar, and it's going down quite well, when some woman asked if we could play "Love Shack". Apparently, she was deaf.

2. I was sitting in on keys at an open mic night when my keyboard stand collapsed in the middle of a tune. Luckily, I caught it with my legs, and finished the tune sitting on the floor with the keyboard in my lap.

3. Playing in a club on South Street in Philadelphia. Blues/swing/hip-hop at the time (still playing with them...www.newkings.com). Some guy gave us $50, said he was in Cinderella, and asked if he could play a tune for some woman he was with. We never found out if he really was in Cinderella or not, but we did find out what happens when somebody who is used to playing ultra-light gauge strings finds himself playing a guitar with the heaviest strings available.

[tigereye]

15. wow let me think

between the crazy owners and the crazy or non-existent soundmen ( a few were great) and shlepping amps at 3 am after our youngest member had disappeared...


The time we were playing an outdoor gig prior to a movie. Our bass player was in several bands and needless to say had pretty much flayed his fingers. Solution... new skin or whatever it was. At one point I looked up from the drumkit to see blood on Mike Watt's signature.

Playing an indoor gig at a local coffee house in the most crowded, least parking part of the university section. Pouring down rain, had to park four blocks away and cart my hardware from there. Then I had to make a trip home since I had forgotten some critical piece of hardware. Then, having to play the gig soaking wet and cold and in fear of electrocution. Plus the opening band reeked of BO.

Hmmm so many memories. But then again playing at the Knitting Factory in NYC (well in August) where famous jazz men had stood the week before made some of it more bearable.

[Susang]

16. How about the time we played the Korean DMZ?

Had to drive over a one way suspension bridge that ran over a gorge, It was mined to the hilt in case the DMZ was ever invaded by the North Koreans and they tried to use the bridge to enter South Korea.

We played bases there for a week. On one of the nights we performed, it was our bandleader, Mel's birthday. A little background on Mel; he was a 53 year old, 350lb Sinbad look-alike who still wore a Jeri-curl in 1997. He was the drummer and also sang all the male leads (I was the female lead singer). He'd been doing these MWR military tours forever and really had no interest in rehearsing, learning new material or actually working on anything other than collecting the money and paying us as little as he could get away with.

So, it was Mel's birthday and he was furiously working the room in search of free drinks. Boy, did he get what he was after. By our last set, as hard as it is to believe, he is completely shitfaced. It was similar to seeing footage of grizzly bears after they break into cabins and consume bottles of whiskey. Frightening and awesome to behold, but you really don't want to be too close or you are going to get hurt.

We started intercepting the birthday drinks that continued to filter up to the stage. I tried to draw focus by announcing at the beginning of "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" that "My best shot's tequila!", in an attempt to get the soldiers (who really wanted to buy somebody, anybody a drink) to forget about Mel. Shots of tequila started appearing on the JBL next to my microphone stand. I downed one to loud applause.

While this was going on, behind me Mel was in bad shape. He was always terrible at keeping time, now it was just ridiculous. He would stop playing altogether, then he'd start up again playing really fast, then slowing down and stopping once again.

During a pause in the lyrics, I turned around and saw the bass player and one of the guitarists taking turns pushing him back and forth between him to keep him from falling off his stool and crashing into them. Neither of them missed a note. I shared my many shots of tequila with them.

On the way home, Mel wasn't very coherent. We made him sit in the front seat so that if he spewed, he wouldn't hit any of us. He would wake up sporadically and paw at the frost that had accumulated on the inside of the window in front of him, then pass out again.

To end an almost perfect night, I had a desperate urge to urinate halfway on our way back to Seoul. When I finally was able to communicate that concept to the driver ("oh, you need pee-pee?"), he pulled over to the side of the road and pointed to a field. I looked out and saw nothing, no bush, tree, nothing to hide behind. However, I really was desperate, so I slogged out there and discovered that I was supposed to urinate in a rice paddy. Oh well, when in Rome.......