funny gig stories

[saturn]

I read BlueMoon’s post, and I am not a gig snob. Matter of fact, I rarely play out. But I must say, there are certain situations that you will only encounter when playing live music for a crowd.

 

Feel free to add more stories to this post.

 

Maybe you had to “be there” for this story to be funny? I’ll try to make it short but some details need to be included:

 

We played a bar last Saturday, way out in the boonies. Our female singer was out of town, so one of our bass player’s former band mates, Chuck, sat in with us. He’s joined us before. We ended up playing a bunch of songs we don’t normally do and had never even rehearsed. One such song was a ZZ Top combo of Tush and La Grange. After an extended jam, we ended the song. Well for some reason Chuck “looked” at our drummer, who thought the look meant he wasn’t finished playing the song. So our drummer started up again, but none of us were playing. We all just figured he was doing a little embellished ending, but 10, 20, 30 seconds later he’s still drumming. We’re all looking at each other like “WTF is he doing?” At one point I said to the keyboard player “should I stop him?” and he said “no”. This went on for at least 3 minutes. Me and the keyboard player are standing there talking to each other and the bass player and Chuck were too, while our drummer was just banging away! The crowd didn’t seem to mind but I was getting embarrassed standing there. We didn’t find out until later that he was embarrassed too and didn’t know how to stop once he started up again. He kept hoping we would re-join him but we never did. Later, when I realized what really happened, I couldn’t stop laughing thinking about the absurdity.

[L5Larry]

This kinda sums it up. Here's an article I wrote for "another" website years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sticky Situation.

 

I had something happen on a gig last Saturday that I found so funny, I though you all might also get a kick out of it.

 

We had one of our summer festival shows at Innsbrook Resort. Innsbrook is one of the first "gated community" recreational areas built here in Eastern Missouri. Built around a lake and golf course in Warren County, about an hour (and two counties) west of St. Louis, they were celebrating their 35th anniversary with a country fair type shindig. We have played their "Summer Breeze" concert series for them before, so they hired us for their anniversary party.

 

There were food and game booths, giant blow up castles and slide thingies for the kids, jugglers and other "street" performers walking around the crowd, you know, all your basic midwest country fair stuff. The stage was strategically placed just northeast of a tree line, so shade covered the stage for most of the (mid 90 degree) afternoon show. The stage was also about 75 feet downwind from the cotton candy booth. That's were my problem began.

 

Now all performing musicians have stories about weird or funny things happening on gigs. Add the element of an outdoor performance, and you increase the possibility of the unexpected jumping up and biting you in the butt. You've got the temperature to deal with, wind and rain, and the casual atmosphere of the outdoor concert (and busy beer booth) that usually adds to an increase in audience participation, welcomed or not. I've always said, when it comes to playing outside, there are two kinds of musicians, those who LOVE it, and those who HATE it. I happen to be one of those that love to play outdoors, but SlidemanDan is one who hates it.

 

We've played outdoor gigs when the wind chill factor was below zero, and with a heat index well over one hundred. St. Patrick's Day weekend '93, March 13, 1993 to be exact, we were playing in one of those giant tents in the Soulard entertainment district of St. Louis, for the city wide St. Patty's Day celebration. I knew it was going to be very cold, so I went out the day before and bought wool knit fingerless gloves for everyone. I was the only one who could actually play in them, and therefore probably suffered the least. When we got home that night I decided I just had to know how cold it really was. The 'official' readings for that evening were 17 degrees F, with a wind chill of 8 below zero. Dan and I still talk about that one, and in fact, we were laughing about it at the time, because you know, 'the show must go on'. I've played one other winter tent gig, with another band, that was colder than that one, but when Dan and I get into something like this together (and Dan's telling the story), it takes on it's own legendary status.

 

On the other end of the thermometer, midwest summers can be pretty brutal. We have a National Cemetery and park in south St. Louis County, called Jefferson Barracks. They built an amphitheater in the park with a real nice covered stage, and they put on an annual summer concert series and other special events there. One of their events for which I have had the honor of performing is their Vietnam Veterans Memorial concert. It's an annual all day affair with bands playing from about noon until 10:00 or 11:00 at night, in the middle of the summer heat. One year it was extremely hot, oh did I mention that the roof over the stage is GLASS, it's like playing in a Greenhouse. I had so much sweat rolling off my face that I had to try to stay leaned forward as to not completely drown my guitar. It's times like these for which you keep a 'throw away' guitar in your arsenal, but most of the time I have to have my trusty Gibson.

 

On another occasion, I was playing a show with Piano Slim back in the mid 90's. It was a big fundraiser for the American Lung Association or Cancer Society, or one of those types of organizations that keeps telling me to quit smoking. It was held on a big blacktop parking lot at a restaurant in southern Illinois. Being the middle of summer, we had enough foresight to ask them to provide some sort of canopy or awning to keep us and our equipment out of the direct summer sun.

 

But we didn't bank on a two-day rainstorm that preceded the event. By the time we arrived to set up, the rain had turned to only a slight drizzle and the clouds were breaking up. They had provided us a couple of portable awnings from the cemetery next door, you know the ones they set up over the grave sight for the burial, but had setup the bandstand at the extreme low end of the parking lot against the curb. That made for about a 2 or 3-inch puddle for us to stand in, I don't think so.

 

After some broom and squeegee work, and some quick thinking by the powers at be, the show went on. The restaurant people pulled up all their raised rubber mats that are typically behind bars for the bartender to stand on. They are made to allow spills to drain through while providing the bartender with dry footing. Brilliant idea, and it worked perfectly. Due to the rain, the event was pretty much a bust, and Slim didn't call out ANY of the songs we had gone over at rehearsal, but hey, that's show biz.

 

As many of you know, and personally experienced, we have also had some pretty trying weather at the Normanstock gatherings. Two in particular I remember were one that was brutally hot, and one that was all but rained out.

 

But I'm not here to talk about weather, it just happens to be the most prominent foe of the outdoor gig. This article is about Cotton Candy.

 

So here we are, playing this great country fair. The weather's pretty hot, but the stage is in the shade. They've provided us with a cooler full of bottled water, and Jayne has brought along chips and sandwiches for all of us. The shows going good, the band is smoking, and the crowd is enthusiastic. We've got a lot of kids hanging around the stage playing air guitar and air drums, and the adults are sitting around on lawn chairs and hay bales with their refreshments enjoying the show. There's a nice breeze blowing, and the aroma from the Cotton Candy booth is wafting right over the stage. Then it happens….

 

A big chunk of Cotton Candy gets away from the Candy Man, becomes airborne, flies right out of the booth, gains altitude and velocity, chooses it's heading, and takes off on a journey of flight. It should have been screaming at the top of its lungs, that is if Cotton Candy could scream, 'I'm free, I'm free'.

 

Meanwhile I'm in the middle of a guitar solo, trying to squeeze the life out of my 345, and I see something out of the corner of my eye. I look over, and to my horror, it's a chunk of Cotton Candy in free flight, on a low altitude attack run, heading right across the stage. It flies in front of Greg, then behind Gene, takes a jog around Tommy's drum kit, and then behind Dan's back, and then made its last course correction. It had found it's primary target and zeroed in for the kill.

 

I'm in the middle of my solo, and have the crowd in the palm of my hand, and then wham, I'm hit. I looked over toward the grassy knoll, but there wasn't one. The Texas School Book Depository was two states away, and anybody knows Cotton Candy can't fly that far. Umbrella Man was nowhere to be seen, and the Zapruder Film had already been confiscated by the FBI. What I did know was that a huge chunk of Cotton Candy was stuck to my left hand. Now Cotton Candy is not considered a deadly weapon, even in Missouri, but when it's stuck to your left hand while your trying to play guitar, it can be a slight inconvenience. So as not to have the sticky gooey stuff spread out all over my guitar neck, there was but one thing I could do, stop playing and peal the sugary delight off my hand. When a guitar solo stops in mid note, it seems to get everyone's attention. Kind of like a car wreck, everyone just has to look.

 

The band guys thought I had broken a string, but this was much worse. As everybody looked on, I attempted to peel the sticky goo off my left hand with my other hand. I accomplished that, but now had it stuck to my right hand. After what seemed like minutes of shaking my right hand with fervor, it became dislodged and continued on it's journey down wind, parting the crowd at stage left like Moses parting the Red Sea. No other injuries were reported, and I hear it made a crash landing somewhere in eastern Kansas. All evidence of this attack has mysteriously disappeared, but the Warren County Commission has promised a full and thorough investigation.

 

I've been through some interesting stuff in the 30+ years I've been in this business, but this is the first time I've had a gig interrupted by a Cotton Candy attack.

[jaxson50]

"I've been through some interesting stuff in the 30+ years I've been in this business, but this is the first time I've had a gig interrupted by a Cotton Candy attack."

 

Dam! I hate it when that happens!!!

[milod]

Hey Larry...

 

There may be a way to beat that one but I ain't even gonna try. <grin>

 

And to think I've complained about coffee spills!

 

I'll wager every young rocker band has had the experience of the unhappy boyfriend of a young lady too enthusiastic over one of the band members...

 

We used to have a lot of shocks from lousy electrical stuff some 40 years ago. It'll open your eyes if it's mike to mouth zapping, especially when you've really worked up a good rock'n sweat.

 

Most embarrassing: The PA going off and on during a classical guitar, event-opening Star Spangled Banner. Do yah start over, keep going with sound on for a bar, off for a bar? I restarted like three or four times as the guy diddled with his usually dependable wiring. Still don't know if that was the right thing to try...

 

Most nasty looks toward a singer-picker: A college band plays a local college venue and the singer/picker dedicates Dylan's "Positively Fourth Street" to all the girls on campus... Gee, I wonder who was dumb enough to do that?

 

Guitar as weapon: Knife headed toward country band guitar player on the front of a 6-inch high stage. Solidbody guitar, set neck, bayonet thrust. End of confrontation.

 

Or... forgetting the words to an old Carter Family song while doing a tame folksinger gig to a cupla thousand folks in a big auditorium - the biggest live audience of a certain 19-year-old's performing career. As the Byrds' song goes, I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now. In fact, I think I handled it with better grace than I could manage now. Only two guitar students kinda figured it out...

 

Oh - ever have the drummer drink enough to fall over backward during a song?

 

Ah, for the olden days.

 

m

[retrosurfer1959]

I have a really bad one I shared in the past probably late 2007 even posted it on the forum but got more chuckles than sympathy so i guess it fits here in a funny gig story post. And since there is a lot of new folks here now I post it again. so old timers sorry you since you heard the story but oh well.

 

I had played the bar seen for about ten years nothing fancy just a local club 203 shows a month and we were all tired. I had a stack of surgeries on my hands needed so we decided to pull the pin and retire the band for a few years let every body relax and recharge the batteries so we had a friend we played a lot for and he had just opened a small bar that had room for probably 150 max and he wanted us to do a hello the bar so long the band show which we agreed to do and it was booked since it was a local thing mostly friends and families and long time customers everybody knew so it was casual and fun. We played a set and like it often is when nothings riding on the show it went really well we were really firing on all cylinders and everyone was clapping and yelling just having a good time and I decided to get cute and held a Custom Shop 63 Firebird up to wave and forgot how long the neck was on a bird and sure enough I stuck the headstock up into a ceiling fan blade. WONK - WONK and a nice chip in the headstock, plus the added benefit of looking stoned and stupid in front of a crowd of at least a hundred close friends and family truly priceless.

 

It's been about about 3 years now and people still make jokes looking up or pointing out ceiling fans to me just in case. they always say.

 

Good news was the Firebird was a Custom Shop in natural with a dark stain so a melt stick pretty much covered the scratch almost completely. I can find it since I know where it is but anyone else would be hard pressed to see it.

 

lessons learned and memories mad that last forever after just retiring on January 1st the band decided to get together for a few jam sessions an see if there any hunger on anyones part to play again or maybe do some studio work and cut a few cd's but of course the first night we all got back together I walked in and sitting on the stool where I always play is a red traffic cone with the word DANGER in tall letters and a old padded leather helmet like they used for football in the 30's and a hoody with BAM-BAM embroidered as a logo everybody just laughed and smiled at me

 

what can you say **** happens.

[daveinspain]

Hey Retro, I remember that story... Still makes me chuckle too.... Good one!

[Lowdown]

When I was but a lil pup(13)my band was to play a support gig slot to the local town big shots and we were all stoked and looking forward to it for weeks in advance since it had been lined up. Our local peers were playing and we were getting up there with them,so we wanted it to be the best.

But...the main vox and I had been busted shop-lifting like a couple of delinquent small town dickheads that we were a week before the gig.

I was grounded indefinitely. My partner in crime(after blaming everything on my bad influence)wasn't allowed to associate with me.

But the day of the gig arrived...music,passion and loyalty called. I climbed out my bedroom window and we got up for the gig. BRILLIANT!

It was for a Telethon. Was broadcast on national TV. BUSTED.

Got home.

Surprised I got let out again.

 

The things ya do for Rock 'N Roll baby.

 

We still laugh about it...