Pissed
us off...
HOME
Playing
for the door
This
happened in another band that three of us were in many moons ago.
Well,
there was that night we played down in Phila. It was our first time in,
they gave us a Tuesday night (ohh that'll pack the house) The deal was,
we play for the door. We knew that would be a gamble but what the hell.
Phila. is about sixty miles for some of us, we were doing our own sound,
so there is a lot of set-up time (at least there was back then, who knew
if all that junk would work or not) We got lost trying to find the damn
place, had to rush to set-up, to play for 5 people. Needless to say we
finished early. When it came time to collect, well you do the math...
5
people
X
2 dollars cover
=
Not -
-
enough to cover our gas, PA rental etc...
So
we asked if he could at least cover our expenses, and he replied, the deal
was you play for the door! So we said NO PROBLEM, just thought we'd ask.
Proceeded to our tool box to get a hammer and flathead screw driver and
began knocking the pins out of the door hinges, The guy freaked and said
what the hell are you doing? We replied, the deal was we play for the door...
so we're taking the door! Well to make a long story short, we were paid
our expenses. ( There's that attitude I again)
Things
that only a band member can appreciate
I
really hate it when someone…
Says…
can I play your guitar?
Says…
I'm really good, can I jam one with you guys?
Says…
I've got this friend who used to be in a band and you should let her sing
with you tonight.
Asks…
can you play anything from the Monkeys?
Bumps
the mic nearly knocking your teeth out.
Pulls
on your shirt while singing an ACDC tune to ask you to announce a birthday.
Decides
they're part of the band and jumps on stage, grabs your mic and proceeds
to fuck up a good tune.
Parks
in front of the loading and unloading door.
Forgets
to turn off the freak'en juke box.
Puts
a cigarette out in your beer.
Sets
their drink on your monitor while they dance.
Plays
the spoons during a Pink Floyd song.
Carries
in a case with 25 harmonicas inside.
Insists
they saw your band in a place you've never been.
Tells
you, you should re-right your original with their wonderful ideas.
Wants
to tell you their life story while your trying to pack up.
Thinks
it would be funny to un-tune your guitar while your playing it.
Calls
your band an orchestra.
Trips
over your monitor or light stands
Spills
beer on your keys
Tells
you the right words to a song you've un-knowingly screwed up for years.
Here's
a few from "Hurricane" of the "In Step" band
I
hate it when you've been playing blues and rock all night and someone
comes
up and asks for "Margaritaville" or any tune by Bush.
I
hate it when you're having a bad night as it is and the manager comes
up
and waves his arms in front of everyone to get you to turn down.
I
hate it when you've written set lists that totally flow perfectly and
you
get to the gig where the manager says, "Can you keep it light at
first
for the 'dinner crowd'?"
Here's
some more I thought of regarding electrical problems
I
really hate it when...
...
You show up for a gig in a new room only to find out there is ONE non grounded
electrical outlet on stage.
...
there's TEN outlets on stage that only after the FUSE (yes fuse) blows,
you discover that they are all on ONE circuit. This usually happens during
the first song making you look like total assholes.
...
you forget to check the mic while touching your guitar strings before the
show starts, that's usually the night you'll get the shit shocked out of
you, giving you that big hair look of the 80's.
...
you power up everything to find there is this really bad ground hum coming
through all the amps, and the owner insists that it has to be ALL your
stuff.
...
when your tube amp picks up the police radio calls louder than you guitar.
...when
the power goes out and no one working knows where the panel is to reset
it.
If
your in a band and can relate to any of the above, and have your own example
of something you really hate when someone... just send us an Email
and we'll add it to the list.
You
People Suck!
One
night we were at the Forge "again" I know it sounds like the only
place we play, but it's really where all the good stories come from, you'd
have to do the Forge to understand. Anyhow we had a full room but the crowd
just would not respond to the bands presence, it's like we were not even
there. It was the middle of the second set and we just finished jammin
out a Van Halen tune and when we hit the last note… nothing, not'a, dead
silence, I mean you could have heard a cricket fart. Well that was it…
George flipped, he took in a deep breath, grabbed the mic, and let out
the longest most offensive array of words I think I ever heard! And it
went something like this:
You
F-ing people suck! I've had more fun picking nose hairs out of a F-ing
boogie… I've enjoyed squeezing puss from a boil on my F-ing ass, than I've
had here tonight… F-ing get off your F-ing ass and make some F-ing noise…
burp, fart, shit, piss, jack off, I don't give shit just do something,
you F-ing bunch of lazy F-ing assholes… get out on the floor and bang your
F-ing ol' lady… I don't give a shit, just do something… I've seen more
excitement at an F-ing funeral, I've taken shits that didn't stink as much
as you F-ing people… wake the F up, get off your asses and dance, maybe
trimming some of that fat off those big wide cheeks… you F-ing guys out
there, ask someone to dance! How the F do you expect to get laid tonight
if you just sit there staring into you F-ing beer? Or do you just plan
on going home later and grabbing the ol' jar of petroleum jelly and have
the night of your F-ing life? You people make me sick and I'm not gonna
stand up here and jam to a bunch of hayseed, F-ing hicks who don't care
if I'm here or not!
You would think that after a comment like that most people would have gotten
up and walked out… but not the case! These people actually got into it!
I don't think they've ever witnessed such a display of passion. They started
cheering, screaming , clapping at the finish of his speech… it worked!
It woke them up and we ended up having a really great night! Go figure…
Garry
Down
by the river (we were out on the street)
Way
back when we were going through that country/Rock and Roll transition,
we used to play at a place I'll leave un-named, let's just say it used
to be down by the RIVERSIDE in Lancaster Pa. It was the first of a two
night gig and the room was full of people. Now I gotta tell the kinda folks
we was a play'n for. It was a members only club, this seemed to be the
only place these people go for anything. They had bingo through the week,
they had breakfast on Sundays they had Weddings for members you name it
they had it. That's all fine, but I really don't think they got out to
any other place. Let me give you an example... Like I said, it was during
that Country/Rock and Roll transition so our music would range anywhere
from Hank Williams Jr. to ACDC (strange but we had a mission). Naturally
the Rock and Roll got a little louder. But anyhow we were playing this
"line dance" I'll give a definition in case anyone reading is one of "those"
club members. A line dance is simply guys on one side, girls on the other,
each side forming a line that faces each other. The two at the end of each
line dance down the center to the other end and then everyone shifts up
to the next place in line. I thought everyone knew how to do this but...
not this gang. So here we are trying to coach these unexposed people on
how to do this dance, after a while they kinda got the idea, the only problem
was they kept forgetting to shift to the next place in line. Well it didn't
take too long for them to start running into the tables. Even after that
they didn't get it, they just kept piling up and tripping over the tables,
so we just said never mind and went on to something else.
Now
back to to main story, in spite of running into the tables everyone was
having a good time, everyone but one old wrinkled up prune face, shriveled
up decrepid old sea hag sitting at the bar which was a good 100 feet from
the stage. This withered up old wench was so short she needed a bendy straw
for her Gin and Tonic. She was so old she was damn near dust, she was so
old her drivers license was carved in stone, she was so shriveled up her
turds squeaked, but she had one damn big mouth. You could here her after
every song "turn that shit down" Well we could ignore it but the doorman
wouldn't and he kept coming up asking us to turn it down. We honestly did
the best we could, but the last time I looked, the drum set did not have
a volume knob and he didn't have a set of brushes. Finally during the last
set he came up again and demanded we turn it down. Now keep in mind that
the only one bitching was old prune face but in the words of the doorman
"she was a charter member" and our reply was "big fucking deal, if she's
a charter member then tell her to get on a charted bus and ride somewhere
else!" The one thing this doorman learned is you don't demand anything
from this band, it creates an instant attitude X 4. So our attitude was
you want it quiet you've got it... the amps went off but we kept on playing...
it was so quiet you could have heard a bug fart, at least until the crowd
started yelling "turn it up!" After about a half of a song the crowd was
getting pretty irate yelling "Turn it Up!" so I stepped up to the mic and
said "don't tell us, tell that fat ass at the door, him and that bitch
at the bar think it was too loud" with that he gave us the old finger across
the throat signal once again forgetting we we're the ones with the microphones.
So we announced "sorry folks, fat ass just fired us" and with that shut
it down and had a good screaming match with Fat ass and Prune face. The
majority was on our side but we left and never went back. I still run into
people who remember that night, it's known as "the Hallman Brothers incident"
and will live in infamy. Since then they've asked us back but we've turned
it down (we turned down the offer, not the volume)
Garry
Shoot
the Fucking Jukebox
"Anyone who knows
us, knows our attitude" That's the first line of the second verse to
my new song called "Shoot the Fucking Jukebox". But this song has true
meaning which defines Rock and Roll. To us there seems to be nothing more
insulting that finishing a heavy tune and as the crowd settles down you hear the
fucking jukebox playing some fucked up disco tune or rap shit selected by some
asshole who left after the first song because it was too loud and might hurt his
little fucking ears (see what I mean about attitude). We have stressed that the
jukebox be unplugged before we start but for some reason it doesn't happen. Once
a night we can except but when it happens 2 - 3 - 4 times... well the old
attitudes start to surface, as was the case at Mr. E's over the Halloween
weekend. After the 3rd time George dug deep into his soul and shouted
"Somebody shoot the fucking jukebox" over and over and over...the
crowd joined in and before you knew it the whole room was yelling "Shoot
the fucking jukebox" We thought it was pretty cool but "sonny
boy" didn't find it so amusing (tuff shit) Needless to say the jukebox was
unplugged. So a couple of weeks later we were in Coatesville and the same thing
happened, I guess there was a few people there from Mr. E's who remembered our
little chant and actually started shouting "Shoot the fucking jukebox"
before us! We all joked that we have to Write a song called "Shoot the
Fucking Jukebox" and that's what I did over the weekend. I wouldn't be
surprised if George has written one too, I haven't talked to him this week but
if so, We'll have two versions...(what the hell...)
Paying
you dues
One time long ago in a band called
Excalibur, which George and I were both part of, for some crazy reason we
thought it would be a good idea to use a booking agent who’s name I'll leave
out, let’s just call him “Greedy Fucking Creep”.
Greedy Fucking Creep was busy
booking work for us (sure he was…) and he managed to land a gig at a place
called “The Jail House” somewhere in Nophilly or Salphilly (depending on who
you talk to…) on a Tuesday night. Just think of the crowd on a Tuesday
night…
Greedy Fucking Creep decided that
it would be okay for us to play for the door charge. Reluctantly we agreed.
So after renting a truck to haul
the equipment and driving 60 miles into Philly, we show up and find that Greedy
Fucking Creep sent his own hired hand to collect the cover charge because Greedy
Fucking Creep didn’t trust us.
The cover charge was $2.00 and two
people showed up, so we made a whopping $4.00. Greedy Fucking Creep’s hired
hand was directed to keep 15% of our earnings, which would have been $0.60. It
cost us $35.00 for the truck, $20.00 plus for gas, around $5.00 each, for
MacDonald’s, plus we had to pay for our drinks, and Greedy Fucking Creep
actually thought he was going to get 60 cents out of us! It didn’t take long
for Greedy Fucking Creep’s hired hand to cough up the whole four bucks. We
told him to tell Greedy Fucking Creep if he wants his cut, to come and get it
himself. We never heard from Greedy Fucking Creep again…Wise choice!
