Ok Guys...let's have some fun and chime in with your best gig disaster stories.

Stories from the road, from a party, whatever...all things twisted and amazing that you survived. Whether it be drunk patrons, or the fight that you narrowly avoided (or not), let it be known here.

Ready? 1,2,3....Go!

Last edited: Jan 16, 2016 19:46:24

Here's another great one:
During the same 1990 Europe tour mentioned above, I played a gig in Bern Switzerland. The venue was a converted horse stable and looked like something out of a fairy tale. At the show there were two girls that were fighting with each other all night. At one point they were really going at it, so one of my band members went to intervene. The promoter stopped him and said "No no, leave them alone, they always do this. They're actually great friends" As soon as he finished saying this one of the girls smashed a beer bottle over the other girls head and then it really erupted into quite a mess. Blood everywhere. The next day I was walking through town and I saw both girls at a bus stop arm in arm. They were still drinking and one of them had a bloody bandage around her head. The other one had her right eye made up to look like she had a black eye, so it would match the real black eye on her left side!!!

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Last edited: Jan 16, 2016 21:12:21

OK, I’ll bite True story. It’s a bit long, but wacky, so hang in there with me. Years ago I was playing in a band that played 50s rock and roll. We were hired to play at a Greek-style banquet hall that had a bar and restaurant that was open to the public. We were told that the clientele were “older people who would appreciate music from that time period.”

When we arrived, we opened the main door and it was like entering a 1970s time machine. The smell of cigarettes, stained carpets and musty funk mixed together into a stinky fist that slapped anyone in the face who dared to enter. The décor was really old school as well (like something out of Goodfellas), and judging from the looks of everything, it had all seen better days — many decades ago.

We were told to see the owner, but he was in his office with the door closed and “didn’t want to be disturbed,” so we brought our gear into the main lobby area and waited. After a while, the office door finally opened and two women awkwardly exited, fixing their hair and makeup and buttoning up their clothes.

We were summoned in. Two big dudes in white tank top tees and suspenders were in the office, buttoning up their pants and smoking cigars. We were told with thick Greek accents that the way the night would work was this: We would play a set, a DJ would play for a little bit, then we would do another set, the DJ would play again, and then we’d finish off the night with one final set. We were then told to bring our gear into the club room and start setting up.

We did just that. As we entered the club area, the two women that had just exited the office were in the same room. One was seated at the bar texting and drinking. The other … was pole dancing at the other end of the room … to no music and no audience whatsoever. Um ... OK.

We then looked at the stage: a riser covered in yellow shag carpet. I went to help our guitarist set up his amp and noticed the socket box had been ripped out of the wall and was dangling by exposed wires. Everything our band had — amps, PA, mixing board, etc all had to go into that one socket. The only other socket in the room was behind the bar and “it would be a hazard” to run an extension cable from the stage to the bar. Somehow the exposed outlet was not a hazard. Good to know.

It was dark as all get-out in that room. We asked if there were any stage lights we could use during the performance. The owner said yes, he’d help us out. He disappeared for 5 minutes and came back with a rotating disco ball that had no stand. He suggested that perhaps one of our band members could hold it the whole night while we played. Not that we would've, but he missed the point that there was no pin light to aim at the ball, so it would've just been a spinning ball -- in the dark. Needless to say, we passed.

The owner then went and talked to the woman at the bar. The woman got upset and started yelling and crying. She summoned her friend who got down off the pole and came over. The crying woman said, “You always do this!!” and the owner put his hands out and pleaded, “But baby…” Both women stormed out in a huff.

No matter, it was time to start. Except no one was in the audience yet. We were told to wait. Finally, little by little, some people started strolling in. People at the youngest were in their 60s, but extended well into their 70s and 80s. We thought, “great!” Maybe these people will appreciate what this music is about and we’ll bring back some memories along the way.

We played. After each song, the audience just stared at us — no applause. And even though there was a dance floor, no one was dancing. It was totally empty. We couldn’t tell what was going on. Suddenly, the DJ came storming in and passed a note to our singer: “Stop playing after this song. Go see the owner.”

We finished up “Rock Around the Clock” to crickets. Immediately this voice from above came down like the voice of God: “Hoooowwwwwww’s everybody doing? Are you reeaaaady to paaaaarrrrty?!” Then the room burst to life with electronica music “Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom.” All of these high-powered dance lights, gobos and fog machines burst to life from the ceiling (we didn’t even see those when we loaded in) and the audience left their tables and quickly crowded the dance floor and shuffled along to 140 bpm dance music.

We were like, “What is going on, here?” Our bandleader went into the office and sat with the owner. The conversation went like this: Owner: “How do you think it’s going out there tonight?” Bandleader: “Not great. They don’t seem to really be into the music.” Owner: “That’s right. That’s exactly why I asked you to stop. You see, the people, they no want to hear oldies. They like the Gaga.” Bandleader: “The Gaga?” Owner: “Yeah, you know. The Gaga. Bad Romance, Poker Face, songs like that. Lady Gaga. People love the Gaga!” Bandleader: “But we’re a 50s band. You saw our website, said you liked our music and called us. Did you really think we played Lady Gaga?” Owner: “I don’t know. I thought maybe you played disco. Well, I’ll tell you what: Since you didn’t finish out the night, what if I paid you $50?” Bandleader: “Buddy, I’d pay YOU $50 to leave at this point, haha!”

The two shook hands amicably and the band re-entered the club area. The place was PACKED as undulating seniors got jiggy to … you guessed it … Lady Gaga. We were forced to tear down amidst a fully-crowded dance floor and try to navigate in and out while the DJ kept spinning his club thumping tunes.

The cherry on the cake: As I was leaving, a man who was easily in his late 70s/early 80s came strolling in wearing a plaid blazer, shirt unbuttoned down to his navel and a thick gold chain. He had an older woman on BOTH arms. The three were laughing. “Come on, girls.” He said. “Let’s dance.”

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Last edited: Jan 18, 2016 14:52:48

We played a gig years ago for a friend of a friend who was opening a new bar. So we show up and it's in the middle of Amish country- horse and buggies parked outside, the whole bit.

We're all teenagers, walk in there and there is no where to set up. there was no room for a band. We setup literally with the drummer behing a post, and had enough room for one 15" speaker and our amps, me and bass player stood almost hanging over the drummer.

The first song in, the Amish farmer types start coming over and making motions like they are going to unplug the amps, etc. We played 3 songs, packed up, and got the hell out of there. No one said a word to us.

No owner to be found, no one we knew in the place, the lone bartender lady had no idea we were going to be there. This was way before cell phones and internet.

I learned a lot from that early gig how to handle bar patrons and bar owners.

These are all golden

Storm Surge of Reverb: Surf & Instro Radio

Back in the day, I was helping out a folk singer friend of mine by playing bass at a coffee shop in Pasadena (back when old town was actually old). The Santa Ana winds were having quite the blow that evening and thirty seconds into our first song, the lights went out - for about two minutes. We quickly got back to business and were doing a pretty good job of laying down the law and rockin' the joint. However...every time someone new would enter the shop we'd catch a whiff of (smoke?). No mind! Play on! Still, more customers, more smoke. People were starting to cough a little towards the end of our set. Then smoke was BILLOWING in the door. No problem, we were channeling TP and the Heartbreakers by then and at the last note of our last song the house lights went OUT! And stayed out. Everybody had to evacuate (thank got it wasn't a metal gig; grabbing your gear for a folk gig is MUCH quicker). Turns out the Salvation Army Thrift Store across Colorado Blvd. was completely and spectacularly aflame. Hoses strewn about, more Fire Engines arriving, helicopters, most of the neighborhood was dark. I will admit that this is the first time in many years that I've mentioned the winds in the telling of this story. It's been more comforting to remember it as we were really that hot. (sigh) We WERE pretty good, but maybe not that good.

mj
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So awhile back i was in this band called the vine
not the vines we were a little before them ,
called the vine because of the grape vines here
anyway we were a band that did originals like
alternative style but i liked surf back then so we used to open with
wipeout but a little wild ,
anyway i was talking to the owner and his daughter
and she asked if i wanted a drink so she went to get a beer
and i thought we were going to have a drink before playing
when all of a sudden i seen the guys in the band
and the drummer started the drum roll for wipe out
which caught me by surprise the bass rythm and drums were playing
i grabbed my guitar and started playing but no sound came out
i went to my amp it wasnt turned on so i yelled
to tim the vocalist i said crap i'm not ready yet
he ran to the drummer and said keep on with the drum roll
so i switched the amp on but it was a tube amp and it seemed
like an eternity to come on
some people started laughing
the poor drummer was drumming his ass off but we pulled it off
ok.

Last edited: Jan 21, 2016 21:38:17

da-ron wrote:

Apparently the other rally was a Hells Angels rally or something and there was some serious biker politics going on.

I'll never forget thinking our band had cleared a whole rally site, though.

My mate's band has played the Bulldog Bash a few times. Fun, he said, with an air of danger.

Saying that, my Professor of Roman Archaeology was a Hell's Angel and a fine bloke. His funeral was something to be seen!

Well, someday in 2013 i was playing with perro agradecido and recently have buyed my reissue 63' fender reverb. That concert would be the debut of that reverb unit out home, but when i start to playing and up the dwell it makes a crappy noise, after some minutes i decide to use the reverb of my amp. I was very dissapointed but when i were at home i tried to fix the reverb, it was only a loose screw...

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Loading into Al's Bar in downtown LA, a homeless man told us that if we paid him 10 bucks, he would watch our van for us. We declined, since all of our equipment would be inside and the van was an old pos anyway (and finances were tight). We did notice that the other band, who was from LA, did pay him. We played, had a fun night, and then came out to load our stuff back in the van and as we approached the back doors, saw a large, fragrant, human turd that had been deposited on our rear bumper! The other band's van did not get the same treatment...

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