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I want to hear real stories about funny things that happened to you at gigs.
Actually, it doesn't even have to be funny, just interesting.
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We once had a call to play a gig in Erie PA for "a banquet". That was all we knew. A banquet dinner party for some organization. We got there at 1 to set up. Finished by 3. Got a message saying that instead of 7 we would start at 8, that they would have their presentation event before we started playing rather than between sets.
Well, for some reason we decided it would be a good idea to have some beers while we spent the rest of that afternoon And before we knew it, it was time to go to the job. We were not falling down drunk, but had consumed more than we should have. That extra hour meant and extra 12 pack was consumed.
And the only thing that makes this even a little bit funny.....
The gig for for an Alcoholic Anonymous dinner, as we showed up trashed.....
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here's mine:
back during the VietNam era, Our band's singer got drafted. He was stationed close enough to home that he could come back on the weekend for gigs.
In those days, all the musicians had long hair, and his military buzz cut lacked the image he wanted... so he bought a wig and wore it when we performed.
On one gig at the hottest venue in town, he got into the song and threw his head back for dramatic effect... and, you guessed it... the wig flew off and slid across the floor like a rat trying to escape a room full of cats.
The song stopped because the band couldn't play they were laughng so hard... it was like one of those movies where the scene is filmed in slow motion, and the look on the singers face and the faces in the crowd morphed from surprise to disbelief to extreme hilarity.
The singer had to ignominiously go get his rat and put it back on to continue singing. Maaaaan.
It was the hilight of the evening... And this post proves that those present are still telling the story 40 years later.
(What's YOUR tale from the trenches?)
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Writing a book, Pat?  Ian
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Quote:
The gig for for an Alcoholic Anonymous dinner, as we showed up trashed.....
I don't want to minimize the solemnity of AA and the good it does in helping people... but the irony in this story is priceless!
Thanks for posting, Eddie!
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Quote:
Writing a book, Pat? 
Ian
nope... but I would definitely buy such a book if it existed!
This is a spinoff from the idea that this group of people are the kindred spirits I don't have in my "real life". If we all lived close enough, I'd have you all over for a cookout this weekend. We'd probably sit around and swap tales about the hobby we all share. But that ain't gonna happen... a thread is as close as it gets.
What's YOUR gig story, Ian? I KNOW you have some!
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I hope I can do this justice. Probably had to be there . . .
I had a full-time gig doing sound for a band whose repertoire was 90% original. They had over a thousand songs of their own. One was called "The Clockwatcher's Waltz," about the nine-to-five grind. They did it as robots or, more to the point, like figures on an elaborate Swiss clock. Very mechanical.
Picture the scene. This was a house gig and they had a loyal following who were intimately familiar with their act. They had done a kids' show in the afternoon, so the low ceiling over the stage was full of helium-filled balloons. They also used a lot of hats in the act, grabbing whatever was handy. This time the lead guitarist happened to put on a Mickey Mouse beanie with ears.
Okay. They start the number. The guitarist decides he wants to pop one of the balloons with the cut end of a string on his Strat, so he starts shuffling around while doing robot shtick. The balloon moves. He goes after it, jabbing at it in slow motion. Of course, all of his gestures are in time with the music. The balloon keeps moving and he follows it around the stage. The other players have to move out of his way, all moving like robots in time with the music.
All of this is done completely deadpan on the part of the band--to a point. The guitarist can't get the balloon to burst, so he chases it for the duration of the number. The house, of course, including me, is on the floor.
I'd give a lot to have video of that moment. I have never seen or heard an audience in complete meltdown like that outside of a straight-ahead comedy act. I don't even remember whether he popped the balloon or not. It took the band about 10 minutes to get it together enough to attempt the next number. There was no way you could follow that. They and the house kept breaking into giggles for the rest of the set.
"My primary musical instrument is the personal computer."
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Journeyman
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I was a sideman on a gig at Pebble Beach golf course with a piano player who I had worked with before. He had also hired a trumpet player who I had not previously worked with. The leader called a "standard" and I played it the first time through and when it came to the trumpet player's time to play he stated "I DON'T PLAY IN THAT KEY MAN". Now this may not seem to be that unusual or funny but before the gig he had bragged of how he had just came off the road with jazz group and basically telling us that he was the greatest. The drummer and I are old friends and to this day we find this hilarious.
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One story that only musicians would appreciate. I once was a guitarist in a serious fusion band--one whose members, including a blind keyboard player, were fully appreciative of the dictum that you can play a solo with just one note, if you play it with enough feeling.
So I'm late to a rehearsal. The band had just started a number which featured a solo by me. To this day I don't know whether the keyboard player knew that I had entered the room until I started playing.
It took me a while to get my rig set up--in fact, until the exact moment when it was time for my solo. I had everything adjusted so that I could get infinite sustain if needed.
Time for my solo. I hit a note and leaned into the speakers. I kept trying to think of the next note to play. Nothing seemed appropriate, so I held it--and held it--and kept holding it--for two choruses. The keyboardist started to smile after a couple of measures. The longer it went, the bigger his smile got. The "solo" ended and we finished the piece, at which point everyone burst out laughing.
And that's the story of my one-note solo.
"My primary musical instrument is the personal computer."
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Journeyman
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Same gig at Pebble-We are watching the guests eat lobster, crab and steak. The catering manager comes up to us and said that we will be served in an adjoining room during our break. Needless to say we were all for that. Come break time we go to the next room which is all set up for the four of us. Our dinners come rolling in on a cart with the plates covered with a metal lid to keep the food warm. Of course we are anticipating lobster, crab and steak. The waiter lifts off the lid covering the food to reveal our HAMBURGERS! So much for high society 
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Ever play a Pittsburgh wedding reception where a fight breaks out between the bride and groom's families?
Yes, even grandma was involved.
The police were called.
The brides and here maids were wearing white with yellow trim, but before the big bust happened, some of 'em were stained in red...
Dad got taken downtown with many of the other participants, as a result we never got paid.
But they didn't get to the dinner part yet, so we did manage to fill the band van with some rather interesting trays of food from the kitchen.
--Mac
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Quote:
I don't want to minimize the solemnity of AA and the good it does in helping people... but the irony in this story is priceless!
Thanks for posting, Eddie!
And I agree with the good that they do. I quite drinking since those days, though I did it myself.
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I have a load of gig stories . . . One of many occurred while playing a steady weekend gig at Johnny’s, a lower 9th ward New Orleans two level bar about 40 years ago. We played on the 2nd floor on a stage that overlooked the crowd on the 1st floor, and on each break the band would work the crowd.
Well on the 1st break of the night I went down stairs to mingle with the crowd on the 1st floor and one of the patrons who was a pretty tough broad (and I mean that as a term of endearment in this case) asked me to dance to a tune playing on the jukebox. I said no I have to get back to start the 2nd set. She insisted “yes”, I too insisted “no” and started to head back up the stairs making my way back on stage. She grabbed me by my foot causing me to trip on the stairs putting my teeth through my bottom lip. I got upset and called her a lot of things (none of them nice) blood running down my chin all over my shirt, one of those **tuxedo ruffled type we wore back then.
Well after what seemed like a lifetime (but actually only took a few minutes) I settle down, get the blood flow down to a drip and look at Charlie Little (my best friend and drummer) and say alright lets play music. He looks me right in the eye without the hint of a smile and says, “You should have danced with her”.
** Ahhhh the ruffled shirt, I have at least two more gig related stories about that shirt.
Later,
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I have a ton of 'em! It was either '67 or '68. We were on the road playing in Milwaukee at "The Attic". Some guys approached the band leader & asked him who arranged our horns. He sent them to me & we talked for the break, and again next break. They had a lot of questions. I asked them what kind of music they did & they said, "We're kinda like Vanilla Fudge with horns." That really excited me! I asked them where they were working... They said they hadn't worked in quite a while. (back then...if you were any good...you were working)
Zoey, the club owner said later, "Those guys are bums. Alex canned them at the Hollyoke." (Indianapolis)
A little while later, they changed their name to The Chicago Transit Authority!
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oh, MAN! These are GREAT gig-tales! Somebody really does need to write the book that Ian alluded to.
Encore! (I have a 3 day weekend to read your stories, so bring 'em on!)
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The problem is that most of them can't be printed in a public forum.....
My band was playing in Timmins Ontario once. We had played a round of gold that day, and the guitar player was having trouble with his short game. After the round we were back at the hotel and decided that we would work on his short game. We went up to the roof with a bag of clubs. After about an hour of chipping back and forth, one of the crew guys came up to hang out with us. Now the crew guy had never hit a golf ball before that didn't dribble along the ground. On the roof was a half eaten apple. I stuck a tee in it and set a ball up and handing him a 6 iron and told him to take a swing. Now know that this crew member was the kind of guy that if you handed him a gun and said "Go kill the pope" he would do it. So he took that 6 iron and CRUSHED a shot off that roof somewhere into downtown Timmins Ontario. We were listening for a window shattering, cars slamming on brakes, anything... we have no idea to this day, 24 years later, where that ball ended up. We watched the papers the next few days and saw nothing so I would guess nobody was hurt.
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This is one of those "you had to be there" stories, but I hope it translates okay. Sometimes it's the timing, not the actual incident, that makes it funny.
In the 70s we were playing at a club up in the mountains, it was an old building – no A/C - and being a hot summer night they opened the windows to let some air in. Novelty songs were popular at the time, and we started playing “Snoopy Vs The Red Baron”. Just as Mick started to sing, a huge flying bug came through the window and started to dive bomb him. He was ducking & weaving as he sang, and we were making aircraft & machine gun noises in the background. Amazingly at the end of the song the bug flew back out of the window, never to be seen again.
Cheers, Keith
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Quote:
The problem is that most of them can't be printed in a public forum.....
just substitute the word "CHICKEN" for all the bad words. That way it'll be funny no matter what.

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I was playing a gig in a coffee shop with a small jazz group. Finished a song and the leader called out "September Song" for the next number, but due to the ambient noise, I only heard "September". Man, those two songs just don't go together.
tony Lenovo lappie, 4Gb RAM, 500Gb HD Ubuntu 12.04 Running BIAB under WINE
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There is an area in Cleveland along the Cuyahoga River known as The Flats. There is an East Bank and a West Bank. At the moment the East Bank has been razed and is being rebuilt, but back in the 80s, it was the hot place to be. All the clubs had docks and the boaters would pull up and dock and come in for dinner. We were playing at a very nice restaurant at the very end of the strip. The stage was positioned in a way that the right side of the stage was along the river, and I was set up right against that safety rail.
After setup I decided to have dinner. It was mainly a seafood place and I love seafood. Sat down and ordered scallops with angel hair pasta.
Okay roll forward a little more than an hour. We were in maybe the 4th song of the night, and I had a sax solo. Wearing my sax while I played the keys, we came to the solo, and I took in a nice big breath to start my solo. And then had to turn to the right where I puked my scallops and pasta into the river, and that was just the start as I played through the night with a case of food poisoning from the bad scallops.
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Ask sales and support questions about Band-in-a-Box using natural language.
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