Got any (working band) war stories?

[beatbyrd]

Hi, I have met, spoken to, and worked with quite a few gigging musicians over the years. It seems that nearly every one of them has had one or more funny or interesting war stories related to their band experiences. The stories might be about gigs gone bad, strange audience members, demanding/shady club owners, wacky people that they've been in a band with, disaster auditions, etc.... Most of the time, I find these stories to be entertaining and fascinating.

Sometimes, I've heard very similar stories from many different players, such as the greedy guy in the band that demanded extra money in the split because he owned the van, or owned the PA system, or booked the gig and wants a commission. Has anyone else worked with him?

Without naming names or getting x-rated, does anyone have any band-related stories that they'd be willing to share?

[s4001]

Played a gig opening for ELO one nite. The road crew had fake newspapers printed up with the headlines 'Bev Bevan arrested for sodomy' and the papers were posted to the monitors. Mugshot and all. They couldn't be seen from the audience. About third song in, Bevan noticed them and just about caused a train wreck from laughing so hard.

[bartyclue]

Played a gig for the now defunct "Rebels" motorcyle club many years ago. Never seen so much fighting, fornicating and consumption of electric lettuce in all my life. Stage setup on a farm. Sunny and hot all day long. By Showtime weather had changed and it started to pour.. biblically. We were told to sit tight. Around 2 am the rain finally stopped but the stage was pretty wet so we removed the gels from the par cans and lit the stage to dry it up some. That triggered the transformer to blow up. We must be done now. Nope.. power company came and replaced it. At 5:30am we took the stage. By 8 am the next day we finished our four sets, broke down our stage, got paid in cash and then drove back to the city. Longest night of my life... also one of the weirdest.

[cjj]

One time, our manager got us this "great gig" at an "outdoor venue". It turned out to be in some big-time rancher's hay barn and was some sort of political rally for some candidate and we were supposed to play music between speeches.

The biggest problem was that these guys just didn't like rock-n-roll and pretty much demanded that we change up and play some country. It was almost exactly like the "Bob's Country Bunker" scene in The Blues Brothers, but without the chicken wire...

[sloop_john_b]

For the amount of gigs I've played, I have surprisingly few tales. I'm sure one will come to me.

Of course, that's not to say I haven't participated in my share of debauchery...

[beatbyrd]

I didn't include one of my own... OK, five piece road band in the 70's, playing at a Holiday Inn in upstate (kinda rural) New York. Nothing open after 9:00 PM - no Denny's, supermarket, 7-11, ... nothing. We have a keyboard player, Butch, who finishes each night by taking a hit off a joint and a last swig of beer before falling asleep. He starts his day the same way. He was on probation for pot related issues.

One night after we finish playing for the night, Butch gets hungry. Nowhere to get any food.... He disappears for a while and comes back to his room carrying a bundle made of an American flag. He opens up the bundle and inside he's got a large chunk of roast beef, rolls, a pie, and a number of other food items. He and the guitar player chow down like kings. Apparently, the hotel did not lock their kitchen.

We finish out the couple of weeks and are ready to check out. The band is in the lobby, getting the check from the innkeeper and settling room charges. Butch looks at his bill and it's very high. He starts to argue with the innkeeper. The innkeeper says the following:
"Butch, I know that you raided my kitchen. The maid found the flag in your room. I took the liberty of removing your ashtrays and putting in clean ones. Yours have been sent to a friend of mine at the State Police headquarters for analysis. They found cannabis residue. They said to let them know if I want to pursue this. I charged you for everything that you took. But I gave you a break and charged you at my cost. Here's an itemized bill. Please settle your bill now or I'll need to make a phone call to my friend. Butch was floored, and grumbling, paid his bill. The rest of the band was cracking up. Right before we went out the door, the innkeeper reached under the counter and handed something to Butch. It was the American flag, laundered and folded the proper way. He smiled and said to Butch, "Don't forget your flag, Butch". The rest of us just about fell down laughing.

-- Never mess with anyone who is smarter than you are --

[s4001]

My guitarist played a gig in Malibu at a pretty well known biker bar. During the evening a biker came up to him and asked them to play Purple Haze. My guitarist politely said they didn't know that song. Later on that nite, the same biker came up and said that King really wants them to play Purple Haze, and what King wants he gets. (King is apparently a very high up gang boss in the Hell's Angels. I'm using an assumed name.) Guitarist said very politely, sorry but we just don't know it. The evening was fairly tense, but the band managed to get home okay. My guitarist thought that was the end of it.

Couple days later, the guitarist gets a call from the bar owner. He says that if his band doesn't come back and play Purple Haze, the Hell's Angels is going to burn down his bar.

Next weekend, his band was back. Before they even got there to set up, there was a horde of bikes parked down the street. The place was standing room only bikers. When the band started, every biker in the place - wall to wall - was standing facing the stage. They played Purple Haze, first song. When the song was over, every biker left and the place was empty.

[jingle_jangle]

...except for the Purple Haze in the parking lot out front.

Them Harleys burn oil!

[kiramdear]

Trying to think of one I can print here ...

[idealassets]

We played the "east coast" for 2 weeks. That was the east coast of Michigan along Lake Huron. It was during smelt dipping season and The Road House (actual name) had many more patrons than the fire code would allow, maybe close to 1000 in there. We knew exactly 3 Beatles songs, among other artists. I was not the spokesman of the band for 2 reasons:

1. The keyboard player owned the sound system.
2. I was the drummer.

So Cletus, a local patron about 6'-6" and stocky, was in there with all his pals and still had his fishing waders on. Apparently he got his way a lot, especially considering his huge bar tab. He introduces himself to me and requests us to "play lots of Beatles songs, because I like the Beatles". His pals stated "yah he likes the Beatles", as his rather firm handshake nearly broke my arm.

So that next set I informed the band that we had lots of Beatles requests. The band explained to me that "they would do Beatles only when they felt ready to".

At the end of that set Cletus was livid and stated that I "had let him down, and where were his Beatles songs as requested", and friendly chap that he was shook my hand again, and broke it, or maybe not; I couldn't really tell. I pointed to our insolent band leader and told Cletus that he was the band leader who told me "No more Beatles songs, we played them already!".

Cletus walked over with his fishing waders still on, his friends in tow, and began to speak to our esteemed band leader; who was shaking his head "NO", until.... Cletus began to introduce himself to all the rest of the band, with no doubt a very firm handshake. From that instant I saw all their heads bobbing eagerly in a "yes" direction. Ultimately we played a total of 9 more Beatles songs. That is 3 Beatles songs that we knew, played repeatedly in a different order each time!

Craig

[idealassets]

I'm surprised that not many folks have guitar gig stories to relate. When I hear the saying "war stories" my immediate reaction is that of "tall tales and fibs". So perhaps its part of the reason there are not too many respondants.

[DriftSpace]

My friend and I were driving back from a 2-week tour moonlighting in a band with which we shared a label. We were in the home stretch (Wyoming) making our way towards Colorado, and it was like someone snapped their fingers to conjure an instant blizzard; within a matter of seconds visibility was reduced to almost nothing, and where the weather had just been gloomy and generally nondescript we suddenly had a white-out. I was watching "Freaks & Geeks" on a laptop upon the request of my friend, but I couldn't help but raise my head to see the drastic change. I also happened to notice that my friend was doing pretty close to 90mph, and that there was a sign which said "Bridge May Be Icy." Just as I was about to open my mouth and say "Hey, we should probably ease-up a bit" the car started to fish-tail. I closed the computer and set it on the floor as my friend started to curse; I had been in a few accidents before, so I knew not to panic, took a deep breath, and just tried to focus on what was happening. The fish-tailing increased until we completely lost traction and basically flew off the highway (Interstate 80) into the median, and started sliding towards the opposing lane. I could almost swear that we caught some air off that last bridge. Out my window I saw a flash of the trailer with our gear headed towards me at an alarming speed, which collided violently with my door. The force of the trailer crashing into the car stopped us a few feet from the opposing lane of traffic.

We both exited the vehicle to assess the situation, which was that the trailer was on its side, yet was still attached to the car. After righting the thing we realized that the trailer had essentially saved our lives; the thick piece of metal which comprised the trailer hitch had been twisted around like taffy, meaning that the trailer had rolled, and then it wedged itself against the car between us the the opposite lane. If we had not been attached to the trailer we would probably have rolled (Isuzu Trooper), and if the thing had not wedged itself against the side of the vehicle we probably would have continued into oncoming traffic. I of course checked the trailer to see what had become of the gear. My father would have been proud; all his years of teaching me to tie things down and use space paid off, as everything was basically where I had placed it when I loaded the trailer.

A young couple stopped to see if we were okay, so I traveled through the blizzard to greet them and thank them for their concern, but at this point there was nothing else for us to do aside from get off the median and be on our way. We headed back the way we came to find a as station, as we were concerned that the trailer would not make the rest of the trip. Unfortunately, the best the clerk at the station could do was lend us some duct tape, which somehow did the trick all the way into Colorado. Conversation was pretty scarce from that point on, aside from my friend occasionally cursing at himself for being reckless and driving like an idiot.

When we got back to return the trailer to U-Haul, we were absolved of the damage to the trailer because we had paid extra for insurance, and it was at that point that the U-Haul employee told us that not only was the trailer insured, but so was all the gear inside the trailer ... which was of no use to us because everything was completely undamaged.

To this day I refuse to tour during the winter months, especially if there's a lot of driving involved.

[Clint]

Let's just say that all of my stories end with me waking up, in a van, by the reservoir...

[BAD RONBO, KiLLeR DWaRfS]

would you all like to borrow my band diaries from 1974 to 2003 and sift thru them ???

[idealassets]

[quote]would you all like to borrow my band diaries from 1974 to 2003 and sift thru them ???
Why not pick your best one and type it up right here?