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Dirty-South Blues Harp forum: wail on! >
Band Disaster / Legendary Story
Band Disaster / Legendary Story
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Stevelegh
493 posts
May 02, 2012
1:30 PM
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This thread is an offshoot from the 'Nightmare Guest Vocalist' thread after Mr V's tremendous tale.
Please feel free to add your own story.
A few years ago, back when in the UK you could smoke in public places, we played in the Royal Marines Barracks in Portsmouth. The hall we were playing a wedding in was filled with priceless British military paraphernalia. This was one place where smoking was strictly verboten.
I'd borrowed an amp for the job as I was running a small Zoom 505 effects processor directly through the PA for most gigs, but we needed some backline on this one.
After the first set, the event manager started running around frantically and looking rather uptight, so we asked if we could help her. She seemed a bit paranoid and said she could smell someone smoking and could we tell her if we saw the culprit.
Of course, we were very vigilant. Up until the point that we realised that it was my amp that was causing the smell.
The kicker: My amp was actually on fire. Not only that, it was leaning against a show case which contained Lord Mountbatten's dress uniform.
The Zoom was used for the second set......
Last Edited by on May 02, 2012 1:43 PM
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Oisin
949 posts
May 02, 2012
1:56 PM
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Years ago we were in a pub in the next village to mine in Ireland. There was a guy playing music in the corner of the bar, middle of the road type stuff, just background music but quite loud. One of the guys at my table was trying to tell us this long drawn out story but we couldn't really hear him because of the music. So he asked us all to empty all of the change out of our pockets and took all the 1p and 2p coins he could muster from us, put them in an ashtray and presented them to the musician. He stopped playing, looked at the ashtray, looked at my mate and then smashed his guitar over my mates head.
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Oisin
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ElkRiverHarmonicas
927 posts
May 02, 2012
2:05 PM
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Wow Steve, you mean the Queen Victoria's grandson, the admiral who the IRA assassinated? That Lord Mountbatten? Oh my!
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David
Elk River Harmonicas
Elk River Harmonicas on Facebook
"It's difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato." - Lewis Grizzard
"Also, drinking homemade beer." - David Payne
Last Edited by on May 02, 2012 2:07 PM
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Stevelegh
494 posts
May 02, 2012
2:40 PM
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@Elk:
Yep. Queen Elizabeth's 'Uncle Louie'. And we had no insurance then.
I actually pay for insurance out of my own pocket for the band as stuff like this scares the shit out of me.
I play guitar in a 70's disco funk band. We're OK, but for some reason, we've played in some prestigious places for important people. This Saturday, we played for one of the Stones' kids birthday. She's friends with our drummer. There wasn't anyone famous there, but there's the whole 'six degrees of separation' thing going on.
Very weird.
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harmonicanick
1578 posts
May 02, 2012
2:42 PM
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@Oison
lol
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waltertore
2228 posts
May 02, 2012
2:47 PM
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I have had more than I can remember........... We were playing a mob run bar in Newark NJ and a couple of african americans that were loaded wandered in the bar. They started dancing and the place got dead quiet. One grabbed one of the Italian girls and then all hell broke loose. The Italian guys pulled out guns and the african american guys had them too. Soon there were shots flying everywhere. My drummer, Billy Beat, was african american. We dived behind the bar with him under us. Soon the shots stopped and the place was full of smoke and reaked of gun powder. We got up and the police were storming in. Miracuously no one was shot or killed. The cops lined everyone up like school boys in the principals office. They all said some fireworks went off by accident. The cops shrugged their shoulders and told the African american guys to go home. The sad part was a young white college kid from Seton Hall Univ which was up the street tried to pull the italians off the african american guys. He was chased out of the club and beaten to near death a few blocks away. He suffered permenant brain damage.
While playing at Eli's Mile High Club in Oakland Ca, some guy came in and argued with the bartender. Next thing we knew the bartender was doubled up and screaming. It turned out he owed the guy some drug money and didn't have it. The guy put a 12 inch craftman screwdriver into his stomach. Luckily the guy lived.
Then I was hired to open a scandinavian tour for a big name Norwiegen guitarists band. We sold our stuff at the flea market the next day, loaded up our trailer and 63 caddy and left Ca for NJ. We flew and boated to Oslo and when we got out there was no one to meet us. Finally this guy showed up and said the tour was canceled and was rescheduled for june (this was January). He suggested we hang out and enjoy norwary till then. We had $100 and hotels were running that for a night. He put us up in a whore house for a week or so then the madame demanded money and we were tossed out. My wife and I (I was to have a norwiegen band back me) got on the train and hid out in the restrooms until we got booted in Brussels. I knew luther tucker and tt fingers were living there. We had about $10 and somehow we located them. We stayed with luther but he was deported for not having a work permit. Luckily we weren't in the apt when the gendarme came. Luther got shipped back to the states and we began our 2.5 year, illegal, residency in Brussels. It was a wild trip that all panned out.
then there was the time when we were playing a big festival in Belgium. they close the town and it is a week long beer/music festival. We were doing a bunch of gigs with my band and I was playing with Roland and his bluesworkshop(legendary belgian bluesman). My band was on the main stage playing to thousands. Some guy came up onstage with a chromatic and started trying to play along with us on mic. He was terrible and my wife asked him to stop. He refused and she took the harp from him. He stomped of the stage and we kept playing. Next thing I know I hear my wife screaming. This guys girlfriend was beating judy's head on the cobblestone road. I jumped off the stage and tried to break it up but this woman wouldn't let go. I had to bust her up pretty bad. In the meantime people in the crowd started pulling up cobblestones like they do during soccer riots and throwing them at me on the bandstand. We fled to a steel trailer that the promoter was using as dressing room. Stones were bouncing off it and screams of drunken rioters were everywhere. He insisted we go back on and finish our set or no pay. He lined up a wall of security in front of us and we finished our set to the minute so out of tune and beat with each other that if it was recorded it could have been classified as some sort of alien music. We left asap.
then there was the time when I was in cool papas band and we were playing SF. The club owner said the advertisement didn't go in the paper and for us to just go home. Papa asked for gas money. He refused. Papa told me to grap the guys PA gear and he would keep him busy with arguing. Off we all went and soon a fleet of CHIP cars pulled us over, told to get out with our hands up and lay face down on the pavement. Shotguns were at our heads. the guy called in and said we robbed him at gunpoint with automatic rifles. Papa explained the situation was heated and we took the stuff by mistake thinking it was our gear and the cops held us until they untangled it all. It was decided we would return the gear and he would give us $100. I met him in golden gate park. He was a B movie tough guy from the 50's and use to like to wear t shirts with the sleeves rolled up and his marboros in them. He liked to move the piano around by himself when bands set up. Anyway he showed up with his greased hair and 22 caliber rifle. We made the exchange and actually played the club the next month with no problems. It was mooneys Irish pub, the place charlie musselwhite got married in with John lee hooker as best man I beleive! I am thankful I survived all those days. It was all a real gift. I got to learn how to really play music. This internet bred musicianship of today lacks the character of what those juke joints put into you. When music is your entire life and you live with life and death, hunger, lost in strange lands, etc, it adds stuff to your music that can't be learned any other way. There are less and less guys coming up this way nowadays. I figure if I live another 20 years I will be one of the last ones left. Walter
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Last Edited by on May 02, 2012 2:57 PM
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MrVerylongusername
2358 posts
May 02, 2012
4:02 PM
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I used to be in a band a long time ago where the drummer was a retained fireman (this is the same band that I was in when a racist wannabe comedian joined us onstage - see other thread). Generally Chris would try to arrange things so he wasn't on call whilst gigging, but there was one occasion when he couldn't avoid it and, as would have been obvious to any student of Sod's Law, his beep went off. He downed sticks and ran out of the venue, leaving a very bemused audience and panicking bandmates. We composed ourselves, explained the situation and tried our very best to carry on in jam mode. He was back within an hour to a standing ovation!
Last Edited by on May 02, 2012 4:04 PM
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laurent2015
146 posts
May 02, 2012
5:38 PM
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Verylong, your drummer-fireman's mission was maybe to
extinguish Stevelegh's on fire amp?
Last Edited by on May 03, 2012 12:57 PM
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jbone
888 posts
May 03, 2012
4:34 AM
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2 saturdays ago we played a nice joint on the north side of the river in an area that's being revitalized. new baseball stadium, refurbished main drag, refurbed theater, etc etc.
the stage is right up front just inside the door. there were a few thousand folks out and about partly thanks to a tom petty concert close by at the arena. we drew a lot of folks in who could hear us on the sidewalk.
one gal came in and i don't know if she knew this guy or not but they basically danced for well over an hour nonstop. all the while guzzling longneck beers. it was really cool to see and we got some of it on video. late on in the set- a 1hour45minute set- the guy sits down and passes out at a table. i lost track of the gal- by the way, leather shorts, a beer in each hand, very nasty dancer- and next thing i know another gal and her are having a shoving match nearly on top of me! i thought for a second i was going to put my elbow someplace it would hurt but they got broken up. and at least twice other than that drunk gals fell onto the stage, barely missing personnel and the 3-guitar rack with about $5k of guitars sitting on it.
not really a gig from hell but some interesting moments not unlike an actual juke i have been to.
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jbone
890 posts
May 03, 2012
5:12 AM
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we once had a 350 lb bass player. a gig i'd booked was at a steak house that had a rickety stage on the outside deck. i'd been on that stage many times, it was where i learned a lot initially about playing harp and having manners.
i knew this stage was old but i'd never thought it was as weak as it turned out to be. halfway through our gig, the bass player STEPPED THROUGH the stage floor! it was about 3 feet to the ground and he got somewhat banged up, and we had lots of fun getting him out in 1 piece. the owner heard what had happened and personally came to the joint, fed the bassist shots the rest of the night, and offered to pay for any medical issues that arose. we got full pay for the night as well even though we played nearly 2 sets with no bass line!
another time i had gone to pick this same guy up to play a 4th of july picnic. it was a freebie at the drummer's place on a lake but we were to be recorded live and possibly cut a cd. got to bassist's house and he's still asleep. he gets up and has a cup of coffee and a joint, dresses and we get going. another joint on the 40 minute drive to the place. we get there, he immediately grabs a beer. no breakfast or lunch. by the time we take the stage he's someplace else in his mind. he was totalled every note he hit seemed to be 1/2 step off and indeed, his bass turned out to be tuned down for some reason. we were at that picnic until about midnight. at the end of the night, he said, "JB, i am quitting the bass business, here, you can have this sh%t." which i graciously declined, we loaded up and he passed out before i got out of the driveway for the run to his place. on the way he broke wind that i swear came from the depths of hell, even with the windows open it lingered and nearly made me vomit at the wheel. oh and by the way- he DID vomit onto some of my gear.
i dropped him off and drove the 30 minutes to my place and spent a half hour- at about 2 a.m.- hosing stuff off and spraying febreze all over my truck and gear. next day he calls and says, "what time are you picking me up?" "for what" i ask. "the 4th of july picnic you dummy!" which told me he had totally spaced out the entire day before and did not remember a thing. i told him it was yesterday and he didn't believe me and thought i was kidding him. he ended up calling the host and was told the same thing. he was very contrite but it didn't stop him from making a mess of things a few more times both with us and with another band.
the live recording turned out so good except for the bass line, which was out of tune and off time. we paid some good guys to come set up and record us and could not use hardly any of it even for demo purposes. this was before pitch shifters and all the digital tools available now.
that bass player went on to greener pastures and ended up in prison for beating a guy half to death over a woman. a real blues tale.
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whiskey&harmonicas
21 posts
May 03, 2012
2:44 PM
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Reading these stories makes me wonder how so many famous bands these days had to go through such insanity to make it big.
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ReedSqueal
283 posts
May 03, 2012
4:57 PM
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Uhhhhh, Walter? You need to write a book. I'll buy a copy. Autographed please.
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Go ahead and play the blues if it'll make you happy.
-Dan Castellaneta
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LSC
208 posts
May 03, 2012
5:08 PM
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Last Waterhole, Amsterdam, 1992. The only gig I would never do again for any amount of money. Run by the Dutch Hell's Angels, The Last Waterhole is a bar/junkie shooting gallery/hotel in the red light district about 20 yards from the dealers bridge.
We pull the van up into an alley around the back and are met by Bill, a British guy and sergeant at arms for the Angels. He greets us friendly enough but he has one of those bone crushing handshakes that is not an attempt to impress, he's just not the least bit aware of the pain inflicted. We unload the gear and ask where we should park the van. He tells us we can leave it there and when I point out it's blocking the alley he says, "We own this alley. Don't worry about it."
First surprise, we discover that unloading amps and drums was not necessary. Amps are not allowed. Everything has to be run direct through the PA. There is an electronic drum kit also going through the PA. Discussion is not an option."Sound" guy is of course loaded.
First set is a sonic nightmare but we get through it. During the break Angels are hot footing it upstairs. Seems somebody got stabbed. Bleeding victim is hauled out to the street and dumped. Guitar player goes missing and we're forced to start without him as a three piece. He appears half way through the first number. When questioned he replies, "One of the girls in the windows recognized me." "Really." "Yeah, she was motioning for me to come in."
End of the night we pack up sharpish but then the bass player comes over and hands me an envelope with the band name and 300 guilders written on the outside. The amount we had been told by the agent was 1000 guilders but not for the first time said agent had given some excuse as to why there was no contract. I open the envelope and count the money and sure enough it's 300.
I go to the bar where Bill, the hand crusher, is holding court. "Ah, Bill, excuse me but there's a little problem. You gave us 300 guilders. Rolf (the agent) told us 1000." At which point Bill gave me this stare which confirmed the true reality of "look that could kill." With a voice like steel he says, and I quote, "We wouldn't pay the Rolling fucking Stones more than 300 guilders. Now fuck off." At which point I exited stage left without further dialog.
The next day, in the parking lot of the building this girl I met was living in, I confronted the agent who told me I should have shown the contract. "What contract?!" I told him if he was so sure he could collect the money lets go back. "Right now. I'll be outside waiting." He of course made some excuse. We very nearly came to blows, but said agent made a fatal mistake. That night was the last gig of the tour, a US military base that was going to pay us by check. That check was equal to the entire amount we owed him for the tour. Instead of dukeing it out I just walked away and let him leave. When he was gone I rounded up the lads,packed up, and we went home, leaving him to explain to the US Army why his band didn't show up (this time there was a contract which he signed) and without his entire fee for the tour. Karma's a bitch.
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LSC
Last Edited by on May 03, 2012 5:13 PM
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electricwitness
35 posts
May 04, 2012
1:41 PM
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These are some pretty CRAZY stories...!
This one is a little more on the funny side...
After playing a show, we had finished loading all the gear in the van, and everybody was climbing in. I was standing outside the sliding door to close it. As the bass player was sitting down something popped and exploded with a strange rumbling noise. Then white "smoke" started billowing up from the floor. At first everybody just sat there... then upon seeing the smoke it was like a three stooges scene everybody was trying to get out at once, and I was trying to get the guitars out, it was chaos! After a few moments the rumbling stopped but the smoke was still in the air and all over us and all the gear... The "smoke" turned out to be from a large fire extinguisher I had stowed behind the drivers seat. When the bass player got in he stepped on it and released the pin and jammed the handle open! Still not sure how he did that. We all had a good laugh, but it was not fun cleaning that crap out of all my stuff especially the van... good times...
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electricwitness.com
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mlefree
65 posts
May 05, 2012
11:35 AM
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OK, here's a little harp-related stage disaster that I caused my first harp teacher, Harry Harpoon.
Harry, who studied and gigged with George "Harmonica" Smith alongside Rod Piazza and William Clarke, et. al., gigs with ancient equipment. A taped-up old Switchcraft volume control for example, and germaine to this story, one of those hanger-wire harp racks (mfgr. unamed; Harpoon plays racked harp and slide guitar along with other rhythm instruments). This particular rack had been all bent up and the thumbscrew mechanism had been "rebuilt" numerous times over the years. It looked and acted like it would fall apart at any moment and he was continually fighting the locking screws. So, I decide to gift him with a more sturdy modern rack (K&M).
All's well, except... Harry decided to use the new rack for the first time when he was opening for a big name band (Tab Benoit and Jimmmy Thackery). The announcer introduces Harry and he comes on stage and gets behind his bass drum and high-hat rig, dons his new rack and inserts an harp into it. Now, the new rack had far stronger springs in it than the old one to yield a better grip on the harp. Somehow Harry unknowingly gets the harp incompletely mounted into the rack as he starts his first song. As soon as he touches his mouth to the harp, it ejects, launches from the rack, becomes air-born and lands about 10 feet in front of his bass drum at the foot of the stage.
Sitting in the front row, I was absolutely mortified knowing that I had caused my teacher and good buddy such embarrassment. My instict was to jump up and grab the harp and toss it to him, but in that instant I decided not to draw any undue attention to myself in either Harry's or the rest of the audiences eyes. Harry, without missing a beat, gets up, strolls out to the front of the stage (it couldn't have been the side or back stage...), retrieves the errant harp, and on the way back to his chair, nonchalantly rids himself of the new rack and dons the old rickety one. He then resumes the song right where he left off.
This in front of several hundred people. I wanted to run to the car and jet, but I decide to stay seated and act like nothing happened. After the show very little about the incident was said between me and Harry. I never saw that new harp rack again. I don't dare ask whatever happened to it.
So, no barbrawls or falling-down drunk patrons, but this is one little incident that I (and undoubtedly Harry) won't be forgetting anytime soon...
Michelle
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jbone
891 posts
May 05, 2012
11:56 AM
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pretty early on i lived in dallas and while i knew a bit about harp- just a few licks really and how to bend a note here or there- i avoided the big blues venues and jams that were there in the early 80's. i was afraid i'd be found out as a fraud if i went where people actually knew what blues was supposed to sound like.
so i found a pretty eclectic sort of open mic in north dallas where you might hear the eagles just after a hank song, and a chuck berry coming up. one side note, i was on stage with local dallas guitar hero bugs henderson one night at this place.
i had a friend, a red headed redneck wild man who played guitar and sang on a very living room type basis. i thought he was great and we jammed a lot on weekends. at the time i was not a singer at all either. so i convinced alford that we should play a couple of songs at this jam one thursday night and to convince him i offered to drive him and buy beers and all. did i mention this guy had sever stage fright, unknown to me until we took the stage? so i picked him up and we went there and got on stage. we had just a couple or 3 songs and the only one i remember was "sandman" by america, which we reworked a little bit. he played and sang, i did just a very low end draw note thing, and i backed him on vocals a little bit. and the crowd went wild! they just loved us. but what with alford's stage fright that was it and we had to stop and get down. so we're over in an alcove shooting pool and a few folks came by to give us compliments which al just sort of blew off. i think he didn't believe he was any good and really just wanted to go home but he wouldn't say so. meanwhile i'm thinking we could do a country and blues and rock duo and maybe actually play out in public, make a buck etc. i had at that time never been in a band.
one last guy came by but he was blind drunk and looking for a fight, he got in alford's face and yelled something at him, and SNAP a pool cue breaks across this guy's head. he goes down. a couple of guys come over and help the guy out the door- he'd already been booted for being a brokeass drunkass pain in the ass, he had come over to just start some stuff i guess. so the barman and the jam host both get in my face about why that had happened. i told them that al was just defending himself, this guy was about to unload on him, but they weren't having it.
so i grabbed my stuff and went to catch up with al, who a friend had said he would get him home. i go out the door and al is wailing on this drunk guy some more. i and our other friend drag him off the guy and get him in a car and headed home about the time the cops are showing up at this place.
nobody ever was charged with anything since nobody knew al at that bar. but i was 86'ed from the jam and the bar both. i guess since i'd brought a "troublemaker" to the place and it was a "classy" bar.
al and i never did play music anyplace again after that, even at his house.
sometimes you just want to be careful who you hook up with and where you take them.
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