Worst gig scenario

[drew]

Quote:Drew,Was that looney bird Pete FramptonNo, if I remember it right it was some guy named "Hookstown Brown"

[ernstinen]

Quote:It's a bit scary though that guns seem to be the main feature of disasterous gigs. You're telling me! --- When I was a young musician, I decided to drop out of college in Michigan and move to Oklahoma City, of all places, to play with a rock band.It was a tough year. The last straw was our final gig.We were booked into a smallish bar, and after the first week we asked the owner for our pay. He said he couldn't pay us the full amount. "Play another week and I'll pay you in full" he said. So, naively, we did just that. That Saturday night, near the end of our last set, there was a commotion at the door. The bouncer wouldn't let a guy in, and he threatened to come back and "straighten things out."As we were tearing down, there was a loud sound at the front door. The owner ran outside, to find the bouncer had been hit with a shotgun blast. He dragged the bouncer to his car, sped off to the hospital, and never returned.Sunday we returned to the bar, and it was padlocked shut. We never got paid another cent. --- A few days later I was on a jet to Chicago. Adios OKC!Ern

[nomiyah]

OK, here's one more on the subject of gigs and guns:Early 80’s, I was living in the San Francisco warehouse dock district above a venue called Club Foot. I was invited to play percussion with the not-yet-famous American Music Club and I packed a bag with various handheld percussion instruments. I included some arty “instruments” like a squeaking rubber duck and a plastic skull and bone. In the bottom of the bag I hid some money and ID.I took some quarters and went out to catch a bus to the gig (I was young and didn’t have a car yet). I was alone at the bus stop until a young man came and waited with me. Then he asked how long I’d been waiting, I said about 5 minutes. He looked up and down the street, then approached me, pulled a gun out of his pocket, put it back in his pocket and told me to give him my bag. I looked at his face and saw he seemed unsure of himself, not someone who would easily shoot me so I took a risk and started talking. (Don’t do this, people, if someone has a gun, give them what they ask for! Remember I was young.)I lied and told him the only money I had was in my hand for the bus and I needed it to get to a gig. He asked didn’t I have a wallet in my bag and I opened the bag and showed him the instruments. He looked doubtful and I actually pulled out the duck and made it squeak and laughed. I knew there was money in the bottom of the bag but I didn’t want to give it to him.There was a bus coming down the other side of street. He said to give him the quarters and stupidly I continued arguing “I need to get to the gig”. He pulled out a book of stolen bus transfers, tore one off and said “Take this transfer”. I asked “Is this today’s?” and he shouted “Yes! Give me the money!” I finally gave him the change and took the transfer. He ran across the street laughing and caught the bus that had just arrived.That’s my one and only story of being robbed at gunpoint. I can’t believe the robber actually gave me a transfer so I could get to a gig. The gig was great, packed with people.

[53mph]

That's a great story Nomi,Coming from London I've got lots of knife stories (there's less guns there you see).I used to work in Brixton, on the same road Nico from the Velvet Underground lived and died and just down the road from Electric Avenue, where Jimi got the name for Electric Lady Land from.I was with some friends coming back from a gig at the Brixton Academy and I was pretty fueled up on beer. Some guy jumped out of a bush in front of me and stood in what looked to me like a cowboy dueling stance. In my drunken haze I did the same and laughed, thinking it was some freakish joke, then calmly staggered past him. Once we were further down the road my friends told me that he'd had a huge knife in his hand.

[hookstownbrown]

Quote:Quote:Drew,Was that looney bird Pete FramptonNo, if I remember it right it was some guy named "Hookstown Brown" Hehheh! That was at the Decade Lounge - the night after Pat Benatar played there on her debut tour. We were in the middle of playing our radio hit and my guitar rig decided to take a quiet vacation.Our keyboardist, who was a classically trained musical magician, read my anguish and started to do my solo on his keyboard. He got the first two bars or so... And then he started singing the rest of it... And he pulled it off!

[nomiyah]

Awww, you didn't run out of bad gig stories already?A van picked me up along with the rest of the band to go to a remote gig backing a reggae artist Dennis D'Menace who was driving in a seperate car. Remote is an understatement... we drove for hours on freeways, then highways then several more hours up a mountain on a semi-paved road. We arrived at about 10 pm at a house party, outdoor stage, no lights on the stage or anywhere, no hospitality and most of the people behaved like they were on drugs. We waited until after midnite and then played about 5 songs. I quickly took my equipment down and prepared to get paid and go home as soon as possible. No one could find Dennis who had taken everyone's pay and left in his car. Our driver had gotten too drunk to drive the dangerous road home. I had to spend the night sitting on a couch without a blanket and never got paid. Waaa

[edteja]

Nomi,I think that at this point, we must have now covered all the bad gigs that ever were, right? Let's see, to summarize, musicians get stood up, shot at, left without transport, have gigs with more musicians than audience (for more reasons than we can imagine) and don't get paid. Sounds like a career kids should be going for if you ask me!!

[nomiyah]

i always discourage my son from that career, though he's naturally musicalbut though you sum it up well enough, i still like to sit around the campfire (computer screen) and tell stories

[ernstinen]

Quote:Awww, you didn't run out of bad gig stories already?Nawww, I've got plenty of them!During the holiday season some years back, I played in a band that booked lots of private parties here in L.A. We were getting into the "inner circle" of high-paying gigs, and had one at a restaurant literally on Rodeo Drive (think $$ ).After we set up, it became apparent that the people there for the party were all rich Arabs. Things went well for awhile, until they announced the "master of ceremonies." Up he strode to the stage, and I did a double-take: It was ---- Danny Thomas!He immediately starting putting us down, being a real asshole. So, on mic, he says "O.K. kids, let's do 'The Love Of My Life' in Eb. Hit it!"We knew a lot of standards, but not the ones he wanted to sing. He became really nasty. I wanted to crawl under my piano. It was terrible. What a jerk.To soften the blow a bit, a younger Arab dude asked for a request which we DID know, and he handed me a $100 bill!What a night. No guns or knives, though! Ern

[booker]

Oh yeah.... well....well...I was going to a gig on a private plane that ran out of gas and crashed! And I was the only survivor. I struggled to survive by eating the bodies of my band mates..... with NO BBQ sauce! Then... who should come to rescue me... But Danny Thomas... and you're right Erns... what a jerk! He tries to "saddle" up to me like we're on Humpback mountain. I had to slap him around a bit. Then he tells me that the "gig must go on" and all that crap. So he takes me to the place where the gig is... and I'm days late, and there's only me... and they want me to play disco. F-ing DISCO! Dang... so I get out my harmonica...and play the few disco songs I know, but they hate it. Then I realize that they are all Satanists and want to sacrifice me! I grab a dead cat and start swinging, knocking ole Danny down and run out of the place. Of course they didn't pay me! I hate L.A. gigs.