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post #1 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 09:15 AM Thread Starter
 
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Join Date: Dec 2004
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Road Stories

I'd like a thread where mebers post their amusing stories from being out on the road. It'll be an interesting read and I thought it might be fun to share all those things that can happen to a gigging guitarist. It might turn out to be a "heads up" for members who are thinking of starting bands and going out to play live.
I've got a couple I can get the ball rolling with....

I played a gig at Trillians in Newcastle one Saturday night back in about 96. The owner told us the support band had to pull out and we'd be supported by a comedian instead. "Fair enough" we said. The venue was packed so we sat down and had a couple of beers while the comedian did his act.
This guy was so racist and offensive that he completely cleared the venue and we ended up playing to only the bar staff.

Another occasion our manager went on holiday to the US for three weeks. He had bookings for the first two weeks for us but not for the third. The band was set to have the 3rd week off when our lead singer told us he'd got us a Thursday night spot at a place called The Con Club way out in Ulverston. Our singer had gotten himself and gave us the impression that it was some kind of Rock club with a prison/ex convicts type theme (some of you guys can see what's coming eh? ).
It turned out to be The Conservative Club which is basicly a club for old people with the same political views (or at least it was in this case). Picture the scene, a long haired rock band turn up with mountains of gear and set up on a stage in a club decorated like your Grans front room. At seven o'clock the punters arrive and the average age of the crowd is around 65....DOH!
We had to end our gig early because there was complaints that we were too loud and before that we had to pause so some guy could read out the prize draw numbers.


It's not all rock and roll as we know it out on the road.
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post #2 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 10:09 AM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

I was in Anaheim CA early 1991 Feb/Mar we had just gotten dropped/released from our label and were determined to get back on a label. We toured all over. After the gig the bass player and I went out to score some rock (never a good thing to do)
We told the cab driver to take us to the Spanish section and we got out, left our jackets, and told the driver to wait. The first group of young entrepreneurs we met we solicited for our fix. They said sure and left to get the stuff. My bass player remembered he left $2600. in his jacket pocket, and ran back to get the money. There I was with a $100. in my hand alone. We had had quite a bit to drink back at the gig, so I was fairly whacked out.
They return, and I taste it to make sure it's somewhat real and not drywall or something. I pull the money out, next thing I know someone grabs me from behind I shake them off and stumble. I'm tackled to the ground face first in the dirt. Boots and shoes are kicking the sh#t out of me, every time I push myself up I get a boot on my back forcing me down. I'm bleeding out of every hole in my face and my ribs are on fire. I can feel my face swelling up.
That's when I felt a gun to my head. All I'm thinking is how pissed everyone is going to be at my being shot in CA. I throw the money away, they grab it offer me a few more kicks, and take off. I slowly push myself up and take off after them screaming obscenities and swearing to kill them. My bass player comes running up hearing me yell, calms me down as we walk back to the cab empty handed.
We get in the cab and he asks me, do you want to go try to score again. I look at him in disbelief and I say..."yup". Which we did went back to the hotel which was like right across from Disney land. Got high, pissed our manager off completely, played the next gig, and left town.
The best part of the story is his money was in his sock the whole time, dumb ass.

When I was 18 (1987) we were playing a bar that in the front was a biker bar, and in the back was a black dance club. So right away you know this'll be good...
We were a glam band and were playing 4 hours of mostly originals. Went over pretty good.
There was a chick who was watching us through the first 2 sets, so I went over and asked her how we sounded (was it loud enough, could you hear the vocals, the guitar,etc) After the last set she offered me a ride home, I told the guys to take my equipment back with them and took off to my house.
She was around 25 or so and I still lived with my parents. Even though I was an adult and my parents were pretty cool about such things, we had to be relatively quiet. We're kissing and God she smelled good, her breasts were magnificent. I went in for the kill put my hand up her skirt and grabbed a hold of a tree trunk!!!!!
I screamed "WHAT THE F*CK!!!" Woke my parents up...
It said that was her "p*ssy on a stick"
I threw her off my bed, ran to the bathroom, vomited that nights illegal alcohol in the sink, and washed the holy hell out of my hand. It sauntered into the bathroom and asked me if I still wanted to play. I threw it out, and drank my old mans whiskey till I passed out...

I've got a million of them...
Be careful of the road young ones she is full of fun, but also danger.
Don't do drugs or trannies...

Last edited by DEADTUNES666; 02-07-2008 at 09:00 AM.
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post #3 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 10:48 AM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

That 2nd story I told had me screwed up for a while, but I'm over it now...
Here's some more that I thought of while my kids are still sleeping...

We were booked, in 1991/1992 to open for Alice Cooper starting in Baltimore, MD. I guess he canceled or our manager flubbed it, and instead got to start opening for BB King. We were stoked how cool would that be. The mostly black blues loving crowd was there, and we hit the stage. I had a white jacket with fringe, bass player had a red tiger striped jacket with fringe, 2nd guitarist wore a pink leopard jacket, also with fringe. We got through 2 1/2 songs until BB flipped out and shut us down. "That's not the kind of sh*t people want to see when they pay for BB!!"
We still got paid, got fired, still got drunk and I've hated BB ever since...

Opened for Jake E. Lees' Wicked Sensation (with Mandy Lion) for a while around 1995/96. No more glam at this point just jeans and leather. We kept doing all of the bands Coke, drinking all Jakes water, and making fun of Mandy, and eventually got kicked off. Hated myself for that one, 'cause I love Jake...he is awesome...
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post #4 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 12:09 PM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

1998, Max Weinberg passed along our cd, helping us procure an anticipated deal with Atlantic.

At the time I had wanted to try wearing masks (similar to what slipknot would do but a little more commercially acceptable). We had a band meeting and basically I told them I was going to do it seeing as no one else was interested. They all agreed as long as it was going to be just me.

We showed up at our scheduled photo shoot for Atlantic. Nobody was happy that the photos were taken with my stupid mask on.

I told them it was my way or no way. I was the singer, I was the guitar player (although we did have 2 others, I played a third of the solos), I was the songwriter...I might as well be a solo artist...
And anytime anyone wanted to pony up and do some real work other than being a sideman on my show please do.

We were set to go into NY for a meeting on a Wednesday. Tuesday night I got a call from the drummer. First words out of his mouth were, "we had a band meeting last night" I blew up...
"Kiss the deal goodbye, you #[email protected]**, ^&#@!!**,@#^&%*, etc!!!!!"

That was about the last real shot I had.

Not really a road story per se...

Moral of the story...
This is a business, it should be treated as such and not let your petty BS get in the way of making a career out of it. Because a crappy music career is still a music career...

Last edited by DEADTUNES666; 02-02-2008 at 01:19 PM.
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post #5 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 02:18 PM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

New Holland area, PA 1989 we shacked up with an Amish family that my then girlfriends family had known. She was traveling with us, as a makeup lady. We were out of money, and just about out of gas, and they were gracious enough to let 4 spandex freakies stay that Saturday night. No television, or electricity...what a long night. Sunday morning and there's nothing open on the Holy Day. I felt like it was the 50's again. No way to weasel any money from odd jobs.
We wound up shoveling out the horse stalls for dinner that night. Stayed another 2 nights, and played a few sh*tkicker bars for some gas and food money. All the while helping out these hairy legged women carry buckets of water and milk from the cows. Loading hay off wagons. Those Amish were some strong hard workers. I swear our clothes smelled like horse manure for a month...

We got a last minute call to support Winger for like 5 gigs. First gig was in Irvington, NJ. There are 2 exits off the NJ parkway that take you to town. 1st one goes right to the club, 2nd one (the wrong one) takes you into town. We took the 2nd one of course. We're driving, looking for the club and we see some of the biggest, meanest, toughest, blackest bikers on the planet. Which was strange because at the time I thought only white dudes rode Harleys.
We were in a Fiero, fairly high, wearing spandex and leather with make up kits and hairspray. Like if you weren't in a band you were a couple of peter puffers. We hit every light possible and the bikers started multiplying, and getting uglier and meaner. We were crapping bricks. Finally a white dude pulls up to the light on a rice rocket, he tells us he doesn't know where the club is but don't ask a black biker looking like this unless we want to die. Then he got the hell out of there... We eventually got to the gig. Phew!
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post #6 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 02:35 PM
 
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Re: Road Stories

well.....
I for one cant beat those stories
only have the usual threats, drunks barfights and stufff...
im totally out of my league
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post #7 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 03:36 PM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

This is like therapy for me. Some of these stories I had kind of forgotten about. I'm like the Spinal Tap minor leagues.

1991-Had a string of dates with Uncle Floyd (local east coast television/comedy personality), and Vinny Mazzeo (Howard Stern flunkie/comedian who set his package on fire and fried eggs over it). Right away you knew the gigs would get out of hand. We were in Seaside, NJ at a tiny bar filming an Uncle Floyd show. In the middle of our 1st set, a large chested inebriated female started flashing everyone. Yeah Rock And Roll!!!
Well the bar manager shouted "wet tee shirt contest".
The bartender says what about the band, the manager spits back "F*ck the band!"
The bartender then proceeds to spray all the drunk participants with seltzer. As they jump up on the tiny riser where the band is, the seltzer gets squirted all over and into our amplifiers. Digitech rack gear starts to smoke, and we immediately cut all power. We start to break down in the middle of the show and Uncle Floyds' people are freaking out.
We're drenched, girls are drenched and/or topless. gear and stage are drenched. Waaaaay drunk rednecks are asking if they can sit in with the band. Meanwhile my mother who had been there decides to get up on the house mic and chastise the establishment for ruining her 22 year old sons' set.
Vinny pulls us aside, and after some illegal substances to bolster our courage (or numb it) we all decide to wait for the manager and beat his ass down. Everyone leaves except the manager.
We waited 2 hours outside the bar for this dude, who kept looking out the window watching us urinate and defecate all over his car. He eventually called the police and we high tailed it out of there. Left Vinny high and hiding under the boardwalk. Never heard anything about it again
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post #8 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 04:50 PM
 
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Re: Road Stories

hilarious, bring on the healing

I was once threatened by a guy in a bar who had half as many fingers as he was supposed to - after I bought him a drink and he calmed down I asked about his fingers... he told me he lost them fighting
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post #9 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 08:09 PM
 
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Re: Road Stories

Sir you must say more. Hopefully i won't run into any ****ty gigs. I would hate ruin my gear :/
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post #10 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 10:01 PM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

A bigger local band when we were starting out was Frostbite, we got a lot of juicy gigs opening up for these w^nkers who treated us (the new young guys) like dirt. Jack Frost was the official leader, he's like a semi famous nobody. As opposed to me a wasn't has been.
Couple of years went by and we had gotten a little attention and landed a showcase for some execs opening for Frostbite.
So we go on and play, had a pretty good set but honestly weren't ready yet. We were in the process of breaking down when the headlining bassist says "you guys got 15 minutes to get the hell out of here.
Now I can break my rig down in like 7 minutes and be in the van.
So it wasn't really a threat, even though it was meant to be. The other guitarist thought differently and dragged this ragged piece of cow flop outside and rammed his face into the brick wall repeatedly until security pulled him off.
He had to go on all bloody and bruised. The execs weren't pleased with any of us. Took us quite some time to live that down with club owners and promoters.

There was a club in Asbury Park, NJ (The Rock Horse) that we played like 5 times a month. It was connected to a strip club. So we used to get the dancers to come over and perform with us on stage. Nothing draws a crowd better than boobies and a band.
They just loved to perform and thought they were all big time dancing for a band. We of course got to look awesome. Then out in the crowd we'd have placed 10-12 girls (girlfriends and their friends) to rush the stage, and get the crowd involved.
Then there was always the 4 people we planted to vigorously seek our autographs which got others to hit us up. We'd always have plants in the audience doing some crazy stuff, making us look bigger and cooler than we were. Lot of hard work, in between the harder drugs. : l
You had to look the part, had to live the part, have people believe you were the part. Pretty soon we believed it too, by then we were doing an 8 ball a day just to cope. We'd go by local radio stations with girlfriends and dealer friends who would be very nice to the dee jays, and station managers, in order for us to get air play. Dealers, as a rule, don't make good friends. I think about how much more drugs and bad things I would have gotten into if I had the internet to further along my non-career. Would've saved so much more time for extra curricular activities.
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post #11 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-02-2008, 10:56 PM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

Late 1988, my bass player and I were on our way to a gig in NJ way up north. Instead of going west to the Turnpike we screwed up and went east to the shore. We were panicking because we were going to be late and started to get ready in the truck. I'm putting my makeup on and teasing my hair out, putting my earrings in. We pulled across the median to go west. Well of course there was a trooper there, and he pulled us over. He was freaked 'cause he thought he had pulled over a couple of cross dressing killers. Made us empty out the back of the truck. 4 cop cars, 5 state troopers, a dope sniffing dog, half a PA, bass rig, half a guitar rig, 4 instruments, 2 fagged out musicians. Thank God there was nothing in the truck...

Dayton, OH 1996, we were headlining a gig and the opener stayed to hang with us. We went back with them to their place. We were cooking our sh*t and getting high as hell. I mean higher than I had ever been before or after.
I started talking to the bass player and we sort of gelled. I was telling him some half baked idea I had about a band of dudes pretending to be girls just to get signed and not letting anyone know why we were that good.
He tells me to hold on a minute and comes out in a red satin bath robe. I'm too high to notice at first or really care. He says he's ready to do the band thing with me. I had already forgotten I said anything. He whips open the robe and he's got panties on, and fishnet stockings. He starts telling me about his wife and his boyfriend how they have this understanding that he bangs his boyfriend on the weekends and his wife sleeps on the couch then they shower Sunday morning together.
I calmly explain to him that I am straight but that doesn't mean we can't continue to get higher together.
He tells me he would never make a move on me...
In my altered state I felt disrespected. I start screaming at him "why wouldn't he want to f*ck me?"
"What's wrong with me?"
I got offended because he didn't want to do me...
He's all scared and freaking 'cause he's so high, I'm pissed and freaking 'cause I'm so high. My band is pissed "cause I'm an ass, the other band is pissed 'cause I'm an ass. They had to drag me out of there.
That is just some funny stupid stuff looking back on it.
This one is better in person...
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post #12 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-07-2008, 08:59 AM
 
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Red face Re: Road Stories

Sorry Eggy

Looks like I killed your thread...

I can't be the only one with outlandish stories can I?

Or is it that I'm the only one to open my big mouth about it?
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post #13 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-07-2008, 11:46 AM
 
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Re: Road Stories

DT666..... some good war stories there! Keep them coming!
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post #14 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-07-2008, 12:27 PM
 
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Re: Road Stories

These are hilarious.

I love hearing peoples stories.

Please post more people!
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post #15 of 22 (permalink) Old 02-07-2008, 01:02 PM
 
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Re: Road Stories

DT666, yours stories read just shy of the Nikki Sixx Heroin Diaries!
Yeesh.
Good stuff, though.

My stores are somewhat more tame, but no less graphic

We'd done a series of shows with Dangerous Toys back in like 92-ish?
Last one was at the Thirsty Whale in Chicago. The whale was essentially a pay to play gig. We'd been given 100 tickets to sell and we figured since we'd already done 4 other shows with DT, we didn't have to sell any ****ing tickets for the venue. **** them! No other venues worked that way.

Anyway, we go in, set up, and club management asks for the money from the tickets. I look at the guy, and say "What money!?"
An argument ensues about us not being able to open, to which we replied we didn't care, we'd take the headliner with us. It was a Lie, we honestly only spoke to the band once during the 5 shows and didn't have any pull, but we figured it sounded good as far as leverage was concerned. Next thing we know we're in the office with Toys' manager, our 'manager' and the club owners. A shouting match ensued and we just kinda sat back and let it unfold, not saying anything after a point. It worked out that we got to play, but didn't get paid that night. The tickets were for us to get our money, essentially. Oooops...

So after the show, we had about 30 seconds to tear down and make room for 'Toys'. No one was happy despite the good response from the crowd. Everyone got drunk that night...except me... Our other guitar player ended up driving home ****-faced that night and getting a DUI. He was doing 45 MPH on the tollway... His wife put him on a short leash and he ended up quitting the band as he was on a restricted license. To and from work only.

Anyway, the rest of us went back to the Drummer's house where our Drummer began to attempt waking up his GF while the rest of us unloaded the gear... She more or less declined his drunken attempts at romance, but not before she yelled out "I'm on my ****ing period!" He walked out of the room looking half stupid at his hand and we, at that moment, gave him the name "Captain Bloodhook"

We did play the Thirsty Whale once more before it was torn down, opening for Shotgun Messiah. The Whale was a good place to see shows, it was a dump, but made for interesting nights. Hot groupies and always something happening.
___________________________________________
Later that year, we'd played a show at some dump (aren't they all) and upon getting back to our rehearsal spot to unload, noone could find our "Manager".
No one had a cell phone, nor did he, so we had to sit and wait...
Wait we did.

He showed up with the truck looking a bit distressed.

He initially claimed he'd run off the road when he hit a patch of ice and spun out. He later tried to revise the story and said he'd seen an apparition of a deer run across the road and he swerved to avoid it. (He was prone to hyperbole) It boiled down to him being drunk and driving into a ditch...like an A-hole...

My rack system was trashed, I needed to completely rebuild my MP1 and Microtube 200... Yeah, I was stylin...

The drummer's stuff, all the hardware was bent in one fashion or another and the Bass player's cab developed a bit of an askew look to it as the corners were no longer at right angles. Tim Burton would've loved it.

________________________________________

Another after show heading back to our rehearsal spot, which was the "Manager's" 'house', which was an old renovated bar/ whorehouse, I and one of the other guys managed to pick up a couple local girls. Sean, who was renting the house gave me his room and our singer another room.
We were occupied once settled in to our situation, I was interrupted when the girl starts yelling, "HEY, HEY ! ! !"

The rest of the band was video-taping us from above through the drop-ceiling tile they'd removed.

Jack-asses...

Coulda' been worse I guess...
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