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one of the strangest gigs we ever did as Dead Man's Curve was in
London's Brixton. We were booked to play some dive, but there had
been complaints about noise, and there were decibel meters all round
the club which tripped the stage power if things got too loud. Well,
we turned down and down and down until we could barely hear
ourselves, but the drums still kept blowing the power, which had to
be reset each time. We draped coats and blankets over the snare and
toms, but we simply couldn't get the snare quiet enough. As soon as
the drummer hit it with any kind of velocity... silence.
We walked out and refused to play.
However, we were all psyched and we had a van full of gear, so we got
the crazy idea of going to every music venue we could think of that
night and seeing if we could muscle in as a support band.
Well, it worked. The third place we tried needed a support. So
without asking anything about the headline act, we piled out of the
van with about 10 minutes to showtime, set up, and hit the ground
running in our matching orange satin shirts.
Which was when we realized that the headliners were a death metal band.
The audience was completely full of what brits call crusties... long
dreadlocked rasta hair, tattoos, attitude to spare, a good 15 years
younger than the youngest of us
and us in our matching shirts
well, we threw caution to the winds, since just getting to play that
night was a bonus, and we frankly didn't give a shit what the
crusties thought of us.
as a result, of course, we played a completely storming set, and they
loved it
I also remember playing at a surf festival on the beach in Brighton,
and people lining up, crowding the promenade... mums and dads and
kids and teenagers and drunks and east asian families... it seemed
like a pretty universal appeal
