Kevin's Watch

For those of you who are musicians you know what I mean. Sometimes everything seems to go wrong with a gig and there's just no way to correct it except just hang on, get through it and then try to forget it.
Unfortunately I'm asking you to remember it.

Was it the big show where no one came and you ended up playing for the bar tender and two of your friends? *I've done that*

Was it the gig where the power went out when you were really starting to get into the performance, expecting that this would be the best show ever? *I've done that*

Was it the gig where your freaking mind went blank and you couldn't remember lyrics or leads even if your life depended on it? *I've done that*

Lets hear the horror stories.

TOM, great question!! As a long-time gigging musician I have a bunch of stories. I'll try to edit down to a few...

aTOMiC wrote:Was it the big show where no one came and you ended up playing for the bar tender and two of your friends? *I've done that*

Jeez. My last band had a bunch of gigs like this. We were playing sports bars, where most people had left before we'd start our last set at 100 AM... so that last hour, we're totally tired and there's like the staff and maybe a drunk or two screaming for Freebird, or giving me devil's horns with every available appendage while I solo on Comfortably Numb (which was how I wished I felt).

Was it the gig where the power went out when you were really starting to get into the performance, expecting that this would be the best show ever? *I've done that*

A few years ago my band grudgingly agreed to play some fair at a local Middle school (one of the guys' kids went there). You know, one of those that has a mini-arcade set up with games and including one of those huge rubber funhouse contraptions where you try to run to the far end of it while held back by giant bungee cords (don't know if that made sense).

First, the area they wanted us to set up on was pine mulch... ummm, do you think we could have some level paved area? The drums were bouncing all around the place. Not to mention it had rained hard the day before and it was still wet. Second, we're setting up (nowhere near a building) and we're looking for electrical outlets... the lady in charge goes "Oh, you need power?" No, ma'am. All of our guitars are made of High Wood and we can channel Earthpower to our guitars and PA whenever we want.

So they connect us to one (1) outlet for the whole band, and this circuit happens to be the same one that's powering the giant rubber funhouse's air compressor. Gee, do ya think that's gonna use some power? It was enough electricity for our amps, but my effects pedal was getting such a dirty feed that it wouldn't work and I had to play the whole show straight through my amp. After about the 3rd time the power died, we quit. The lady came by and said "oh, are you having trouble with your amps?" I'm not generally a hateful person but in that moment I wished I could have summoned turiya Raver.

Was it the gig where your freaking mind went blank and you couldn't remember lyrics or leads even if your life depended on it? *I've done that*

The one time that happened it was even trippier than that. I literally couldn't remember from one second to the next what the next chord was, how the chorus went, when the solo was, how to play it, or anything. But as each part came up I'd know what to do at the last instant, so I'd kick on my boost for a lead, or whatever. It was like I was so completely in the moment... and nobody else could tell.

I just joined a new band this week (!!!) and am glad I've already gotten those out of my system

Relayer wrote: Jeez. My last band had a bunch of gigs like this. We were playing sports bars, where most people had left before we'd start our last set at 100 AM... so that last hour, we're totally tired and there's like the staff and maybe a drunk or two screaming for Freebird, or giving me devil's horns with every available appendage while I solo on Comfortably Numb (which was how I wished I felt).

Painful. One's mind is filled with thoughts like "Can't we just go home please?"

A few years ago my band grudgingly agreed to play some fair at a local Middle school (one of the guys' kids went there). You know, one of those that has a mini-arcade set up with games and including one of those huge rubber funhouse contraptions where you try to run to the far end of it while held back by giant bungee cords (don't know if that made sense).

First, the area they wanted us to set up on was pine mulch... ummm, do you think we could have some level paved area? The drums were bouncing all around the place. Not to mention it had rained hard the day before and it was still wet. Second, we're setting up (nowhere near a building) and we're looking for electrical outlets... the lady in charge goes "Oh, you need power?" No, ma'am. All of our guitars are made of High Wood and we can channel Earthpower to our guitars and PA whenever we want.

So they connect us to one (1) outlet for the whole band, and this circuit happens to be the same one that's powering the giant rubber funhouse's air compressor. Gee, do ya think that's gonna use some power? It was enough electricity for our amps, but my effects pedal was getting such a dirty feed that it wouldn't work and I had to play the whole show straight through my amp. After about the 3rd time the power died, we quit. The lady came by and said "oh, are you having trouble with your amps?" I'm not generally a hateful person but in that moment I wished I could have summoned turiya Raver.

Dear Lord. I loved the comment about having to play directly on pine mulch. Yep. Played a few gigs where the people in charge seem shocked that you might need to plug in all those crazy gizmoes. I always thought things like "Why on earth did you ask us to do this job? Have you never actually seen a rock band perform or are you just used to country/folk groups with all acoustic instruments and a washboard for percussion? Heh I remember that line from the Blues Brothers "We have both kinds of music here. Country and Western."

The one time that happened it was even trippier than that. I literally couldn't remember from one second to the next what the next chord was, how the chorus went, when the solo was, how to play it, or anything. But as each part came up I'd know what to do at the last instant, so I'd kick on my boost for a lead, or whatever. It was like I was so completely in the moment... and nobody else could tell.

Lucky duck. I didn't fair so well. It was...well...ugly.

All my gigs have gone perfectly.

not surprising really, as they've all been in my head!

Haven't gigged since high school; and only played at all-ages gigs..but I used to play about once a month.

AS the drummer for a hard rock band, we lpayed this one gig, with a few other bands...the other drummers all had real nice kits, so they didn't want to bring them, for risk of ruining them.
My kit had duct tape, and wire holding various parts together..although, I had a couple of good cymbals.

Anyways, halfway through our set...the drums started falling apart; and I started getting more and more pissed off.
The snare fell over during one song; right at the beggins; the bass pedal fell apart.
At the end of the show, I was so pissed, I just threw my sticks against a wall and stormed outside.

The rest of the band calmed me down, told me that noone probely noticed, "you're sucha good drummer, you didn't even miss a beat"...stuff to make me feel beter.

When I did go back to pack up my kit...someone had stolen my cymbals.

Once in the middle of a song my choir was doing a person fainted off the back of the stage. A stagehand rushed back to her and brought her to the nurses station, and our choir kept singing the whole time. I didn't even know it happened untill after.

My director had signaled the stagehand while continuing to keep pace for us, and stayed calm the whole time. It was nuts.

She was fine, and the songs went great.

Years ago the band I was in at the time was pretty much carving out new venues and a circuit on the South Coast of the UK. We were hired for a series of six gigs at a large pub in Hastings and after the first three we started to get a reasonable crowd coming in. On the last gig we had the place full if not packed and were pretty pleased with our efforts.

Now the 'stage' was a collection of beer crates with plywood sheets covering this amnd a motley collection of carpet pieces over that. We got into it and got the crowd up and dancing but at a high point we heard a crash and looked around to see the drums all akimbo and two feet sticking up. Naturally this should not have slowed us down any (right!) but the crowd roared with laughter and being young we just stood there embarrassed as the whole thing ground to a halt.

The Plywood boards had made miniture jumps with the extra energy we were putting into a responsive crowd and to the movements of the crowd on the floor till one shifted beyond the edge sending the whole drum set-uip including the drummer off into limbo.

There was no real harm done apart from our pride and the gig was rescued after a short break. Nothing to cause trepidation now, but at the time we really could have used a shovel to dig a deep hole for ourselves.

Was it the gig where your freaking mind went blank and you couldn't remember lyrics or leads even if your life depended on it?

Almost.

My freind was the drummer for a punk abnd, and their bassist had quit.
He asked me if I would take over.

They had a show booked only a couple of weeks away...and though I had a few practices by then, I didn't know all the songs..
but it WAS punk:
The guitar was mostly just power chords, so the songs I didn't know, I just followed what the guitarist was doing.

That was my plan anyways.

I didn't realize that the guitarist was planning on drinking a quart before the show, and HE kept forgetting the songs, and he was trying to follow ME during some of the songs.

Needless to say, there was only singing and drums for a few of the tunes.

Three stories should fill the quota:

1. The first gig I ever did in my life was at an elementary school, which already sounds like Relayer's story, but mine is considerably less interesting. I had just joined the band and we had maybe 3-4 practices under our belt before they wanted me to go up on stage. I was terrified, but realized it was just a bunch of kids, so what does it matter? The guitarist takes a few songs, then I get up and do the song I know the best, and a kid kicks out the cord for everything. Mortified. We started up again, but no big deal, other than my first experience playing in front of people in a band. We were on the local news that night though, and I got my first band-related "action."

2. Second gig, actually. We performed only one song for some trade show or something. The previous gig, we were on television. This time, our performance was on the radio. Yes, one of the many local country music stations in Wichita Kansas, and we were kind of a Duran Duran type band. About as good as nobody showing up, 'cause I'm sure we didn't get the attention we wanted from that performance.

3. Final gig. We had as much as broken up because the keyboardist and kinda "leader" of the band was leaving for his mission in a couple months, but we had been invited by one of the wealthy friends to play a gig at her birthday party. There were about 3-4 bands playing that night, and we were given an hour, I think. Well, I practiced like hell, but I didn't really practice the same song I have referenced in the two previous stories because I figured I knew as it was the first I learned, and our biggest "hit." And of course, I went blank during a part of it, but I saw the audience was singing along, so I quickly (and apparently without missing a beat) stuck the mike in the face of someone who was singing along, and figured out where I was in the song. Apparently nobody there knew I had forgotten the lyrics and were pretty damn amused to hear that it was why I did that.

I had a very short-lived 3-piece in college (drums, bass, guitar) that was reminiscent of the "free-form jazz" performances of Spinal Tap. We ended up auditioning for a smallish gig at UMD after a long, hard night of partying, and both the bassist and I neglected to make sure we were both in the same tuning. Needless to say, what should have been a relatively straight instrumental reading of "Freebird" ended up sounding like a discordant, avant-garde mash-up, made worse by the drummer throwing a stick at me, missing, and hitting one of the organizers of the show.

My bands second show was held at a bar slash, pizza parlor. For some reason we had decided to record the show on video tape, but no one was dancing or participating in anyway. After the show we all sat down and watched the tape, about halfway through the night I watched myself leave the stage and enter the bathroom, but my band continued to play. As soon as that door closed behind me, people got up and danced. As soon as the song was over I came out of the bathroom just in time to see the last couple leaving the dance floor. It wasnt really as bad as it seemed, the place booked us again and all was well. I still watch that video before every gig.

drew wrote:

Was it the gig where your freaking mind went blank and you couldn't remember lyrics or leads even if your life depended on it?

Almost.

My freind was the drummer for a punk abnd, and their bassist had quit.
He asked me if I would take over.

They had a show booked only a couple of weeks away...and though I had a few practices by then, I didn't know all the songs..
but it WAS punk:
The guitar was mostly just power chords, so the songs I didn't know, I just followed what the guitarist was doing.

That was my plan anyways.

I didn't realize that the guitarist was planning on drinking a quart before the show, and HE kept forgetting the songs, and he was trying to follow ME during some of the songs.

Needless to say, there was only singing and drums for a few of the tunes.

I've watched a few punk bands that sounded like that. I assumed they were just "trying something" but now that you mention it they were probably just drunk.

Clear Frontier did a gig at a downtown Tampa spot that was apparently on the route of a bunch of skaters (this was back a few years and they weren't on skateboards but actual skates). What these nuts would do was skate around downtown from one club to another. The group was fairly large. We played the gig all night but most of the time we were playing for the bar tender and a few assorted folks. Then the skaters arrived and the place was suddenly packed from wall to wall. We played as much as we could before they all got up and left to go to the next stop, leaving us all alone with the bar tender and assorted folks again. Very strange gig.

"Assorted folk"? Oh, you must mean the waitresses. There was nobody there that hadn't been paid to be there, until the skaters showed up. Well, except for that one guy who wanted your guitar......

Anyway, I've done a lot of crappy gigs, and a few stand out as extremely crappy or embarassing.

My first gig I had to play without the benefit of the middle finger on my fretting hand; I smashed it in a door earlier that day. Then there was he fact that the original bassist was in the crowd giving me hand gestures when I played a part wrong; she was trying to show me how to play the part, but I didn't realize that until after the gig. I just thought she was really getting into my funky grooves, or really liked the parachute pants I was wearing. Suffice it to say I was a beginner, and was improving noticeably by the week, so if she had shown up for another gig, there would have been little need for hand gestures.

Then there was the only solo piece I ever attempted, at church, on Memorial Day sunday. Our guitarist usually did his Hendrix Star Spangled Banner bit, but we didn't want to use that as he'd be doing it again on the Independence Day weekend. Well, I had just got my first fretless, and kind of knew bits of Jaco's AmeriKa, so up on stage I went. Two people applauded when I finished. The rest of the congrgation looked around, obviously confused. I think they thought I was tuning up or something.

I was in a band that when we started rolling, we'd do two sets; the first one a bit mellow, and the second one a rocker. I didn't really like this format, as by this point I had several years of experience, and had watched semmingly thousands of people get up and leave when the set started going through the mellow songs. But, as we were playing mostly churches, the other guys felt like we had to ease people in to the hard stuff, so, as usual, I lost the argument, knowing that after a few gigs, they'd see what I was talking about. So, we do this crazy gig in New Port Richey for what looked to be a dozen farmers. The opening band ended up being one guy with a Kramer who needed to borrow one of our amps just to play. He was weak that night, but later we used his band and they were pretty good. Anyway, this 'crowd' was totally not into us; I kept telling Sean to abandon the set and start calling out the faster stuff. But no, he got pissed off, and started calling out even slower stuff; old hymns and crap I barely even knew. We got off stage and argued a bit about his attitude, but then a poet got up on stage, and began her reading, so we dropped it. The highlight of the poem was when she cried out "The sun has gone; all is darkness". My almost 4 year old son called out to her "Don't worry, it'll be back up tomorrow!". Well, that got the whole band laughing (quietly), but unfortunately, Sean still was pissed and our second set was even more of a dirge than the first one. The good news is after that, he realized he was being an ass and we started playing the faster, rocking stuff right off the bat.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkMWdI2IKiw

I was there, unfortunately.

That was hideous.
Hopefully you weren't on the stage! (??)

I tell you, there was this Pirates Of Penzance gig back in '53 we were doing. It was me and the boys; you know, Sammy and Dean and Frankie and the rest. So we're in the third night of a five night stand, and we were out all night the night before, celebrating the success of the 2nd night, and Deano, he's still a little drunk, and let's face it, he stank pretty bad, too. So we figured we need to get him a cold shower, only there's no shower in the building. So Frankie and me, we take ole' Deano out back and throw him in the pond! Only it's December, in New York, so the pond is ice, see? Anyway, Deano's coming to about now, and wondering how in the hell he got in the middle of a frozen pond! It took him ten minutes to crawl back to shore, and the show was supposed to start fifteen minutes before we threw him in, so the show pretty much sucked. What a drag.

Actually, I was at that show...Most of us in the audience could harldy tell anything was amiss.

That's because we're professionals, baby!