I almost got sued over lobbing my sticks at the crowd this past February!!!!

summer of 71 raccoon lounge parke county in. we started our set and we play a mix for the area a little of everything s we started the Hendricks star spangle banner to purple haze with all the effects and the owner come up and started saying sh*t about anti patriotic and grabbed at our equipment and through us out and did not pay us too many more to list this one stands out

Sounds too familiar...

One embarrassing moment...

I go to see some friends playing at a club I'd never been to before. They get me up to sit in. When I get done, I went to put my hand on the wall behind the drums behind the band's banner.... only no wall. I fall right through the back drop and off of a 3 foot riser.

We still laugh about it....

Our band always kept to a no politics--no religion policy on the bandstand or stage. If the people hiring the band wanted political rhetoric issuing from the stage, they had to provide it themselves. Although we played at many social halls at churches and gymnasia at St. Something or Other High School, no mention of religion came from the band that included members who were ***ish, Dutch Reform,Southern Baptist, and Irish Catholic. We knew better than to play the Hendrix version of the national anthem at any venue because there was a high percentage of bubbas in our area. That was back in the days before the bubbas became the guys with the long hair that they despised on the rest of us in the early 60's.

I guess that the mention of the religion of people of the Hebraic persuasion is not permitted in here. Let me see if Christian is allowed.

Yep, it is.

Apparently, older people go "gaga" for wait for it...Lady Gaga!

My band plays 40's/50s jump blues, swing and rockabilly. We were booked for a nightclub/restaurant in Chicago (which I won't name here, just to be safe). We had never played there before and when we showed up, we found it was a Greek place that had seen it's hey day in the 70's. It smelled like mothballs, mold and possibly a touch of death mixed with a hint of oregano.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

We were told to talk to the owner before setting up, so we waited in the lobby of this place. 10 minutes later, the office door opens and out come two prostitutes, the co-owner and the owner, who are both putting on their belts and buttoning their shirts! One of them is chomping on an unlit cigar and directs us to the "stage" - a shag-carpeted fiasco with NO lights and ONE outlet, which has been ripped out of the wall, duct taped together and is dangling there waiting for its next victim. I look around and see something in the back I'm not used to seeing in the places we play -- STRIPPER POLE!

THE MELTDOWN

As I'm going to grab more stuff from the van, the owner starts barking at the two ladies from the office to "make with the pole!" in a thick Greek accent. They reluctantly go to the back of the club and oblige. Mind you, no music is playing. One woman loses interest in 20 seconds and tells the owner that she's "not getting paid extra to dance" and tells him to go "F" himself. He yells at her in Greek and she starts to tear up. He lets out with a "Calm down, baby. Think of the customers." She has a drink at the bar, slams the glass down on the counter and storms out.

THE CHEST HAIR

We finally set up, and we finally see some customers start to pour in. Everyone was easily in their late 60's/early 70's, but they were dressed like people in their 20s. Make up was plastered on, dresses were skin-tight, men had ear rings glistening under their toupees and shirts were unbuttoned extremely low so that chest hair and gold chains could be spotted from miles away.

Meanwhile, the band didn't know what to say, so we're shooting each other looks, raised eyebrows and the occasional whispered comment in passing.

THE STROBE LIGHT

We realized we were going to have no stage lights whatsoever, which is fine, except the room was in 95% darkness, saved for some neon signs at the bar. The guys in the band were worried about not being able to read charts and such, so we asked the cigar-chomper if the club had any lighting they could provide, or if they could turn up the lights in the room. He said he did have something for us and left the room. Five minutes later, he returns with a strobe light - the kind you could get from Radio Shack in the 80s with the faux wood frame and the knob on the back. He said one of our guys could "hold it and face the stage" while we play for "added effect." We thought he was joking or being sarcastic, but it turns out he was serious and was trying to be helpful -- we decided to pass!

THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR

Fast-forward to the beginning of the show. The band is about to start when in walks a DJ! (Think Disco Stu from the Simpsons). He comes up to us, claps his hands and says the following: "Ok boys, my name's Murray. I'll be the DJ tonight. Here's how it goes down. I'm going to spin for the first set, about an hour. You'll play a half hour. I'll spin for two hours, and then you'll finish out the night with a 45 min set. I'll spin from there..." He then lifted his left hand, aimed it like a gun at the band and went "ka-chow" and walked away. (BTW, if anyone reading this is wondering whether any of this is fiction by now, you have every right. However, this is all fact - no exaggerations - no fluff - all this stuff was blowing our minds because it was happening and real!! And yes, it gets better, or worse. Keep reading!!)

THE SET

We finally started playing, shrouded in darkness. No one danced. No one clapped. Everyone looked bored and lifeless in the crowd. One guy in the audience smiled and started patting his hand on the table. Relieved, I started playing to him. After 20 minutes, Murray slips the lead singer a note. It was "from the owner" and us to stop playing. We finished our song and were about to exit the stage, when all of the sudden, all these lights came on in the club and electronica starts playing. Where did these lights come from? They lowered from the ceiling!! Disco lights, gobos, strobes, etc are pulsing all over this place and Murray starts welcoming the crowd over the PA and says "It's time to FINALLY get this party started!" If we were cartoon characters, our eyes would've popped out Tex Avery-style at the spectacle of it all. Why? Because all of these seniors flooded onto the floor and were gyrating and grinding about.

THE GAGA

Dumbfounded, we staggered into the lobby. More people are pouring in from the parking lot. I saw a man easily in his 70s in a leisure suit with shirt unbuttoned DOWN TO HIS BELT stroll in with a woman on each arm. He's laughing and says "there's going to be plenty of action tonight." I'm thinking, "You go, brother!" Our band leader said he was going to talk to the owner to see what happened. I went in with him. The owner said, (Thick Greek accent) "I'm sorry, my friends, but my clientele, they no want the oldies. They want the Gaga!" My bandleader says, "The Gaga?" (Owner) "Yes! The Gaga! You know, Paparazzi, Poker Face...The Gaga! You no play the Gaga?" (Bandleader) "No! You saw our contract, you've been on our website, you called US! You know what we play. I'm not sure what's going on here, but didn't you know what you were getting when you heard our CD, got our press kit and signed us?" (Owner) "Hmm...perhaps you would do better here on a Tuesday night." (Band leader) "I don't know, but it's Saturday and we're here. What should we do?" (Owner) "I don't think it's wise to keep playing. That crowd will eat you alive out there." If I had a drink, I would've done a spit-take at that moment. Did he just say that the audience of seniors would "eat us alive?" Did he just ask us to play "The Gaga?" Check and check.

THE OUTCOME

We never went back on. We walked back in while Murray rocked the crowd with Euro Dance, Electronica and Disco. Our tails were firmly tucked between our legs as we tore down and tried to get all of our gear through a packed dance floor of gyrating seniors. We ended up getting paid for half the night. To this day, every time I hear Lady Gaga on the radio I chuckle, and I pinch myself to make sure I'm not still dreaming. Nope, I'm awake. The "Gaga" gig really happened and I was stone cold sober through the whole thing.

Worst gig ever? Yes. Best story I can honestly tell ever? Absolutely.

I have one from December 10th 2010. Our band was playing our 3rd gig ever as a band at a place called The Alcove Bar and Marina. Not a bad spot-during the summer.

They set up the outdoor pavillion by putting plexiglass in the windows, and building a 2x4 and plastic poly wall to enclose it, and hanging a poly door with some 2x4s on the bottom from keeping the wind blowing in. Anyways, they did set up a LOT of heaters in the place, but the area where the bands were to set up and play was still only about 35 degrees.

The guy running the sound that night didnt bother to tell us that the 16ch powered mixer he had was only functioning halfway, so he was only running 2 mains, and 2 monitors. Sound was TERRIBLE, if non existant at some times, but we struggled through it. We were the 3rd out of the 4 bands that were playing that night, and with a concrete floor, my feet were a little numb by the time we were ready to play, to say the least.

Halfway through the 2nd song of our 6 song set, I got a cramp that rendered my left leg useless. Since there was an upper floor, I went upstairs between songs, and ran around in the heat until the cramp was almost worked out. Came back down, and started our 3rd song. About a quarter of the way through, now my right(and prominent)leg got the nastiest calf cramp I ever had. I had to stop playing and run back upstairs to get warm again and massage the knot.

After about 10 minutes, and some arguing to let us finish the songs we had, I got back on the throne, and we moved onto our 4th song of the night. Low and behold, a big gust of wind came through and blew down the 2x4 and plastic wall right on top of my head. I had finally had enough. I stopped playing, grabbed the mic out of my singers hand, went on a profane rant about getting the wall fixed so we could finish our set in this "cold f***ing hell."

They got the wall back up, and we moved onto our last song, just to wrap up the night. Not even 30 seconds in, both calfs cramped right up again. I threw my sticks down, packed up my kit, and went home with my now girlfriend(who was there with me on our first "date"). What a night.

Sailing2

If playing gigs back when I started meant that a band would play a "show" of six songs as one of several bands doing their respective "shows" for little or no pay, I don't think that I would have wanted to continue for the many years that I did play gigs. I suppose that I'm expressing my geezerly opinion on this matter. But, I think that the lame concept of "battle of the bands" on a nightly basis is not at all conducive to enjoying playing in a band.

How many do you want?

1 - Elvin Bishop ripping off our beer cooler at an outdoor concert in Georgia while Mickey (fooled around & feel in love) Thomas (sp?) tried to block our view. Anyone seen Mickey?...he's about 4"2" and 67 lbs of pure manhood and he's trying to stop our roadie "Big Jim". Jim was 6'2" & 400 lbs plus!...he picked Mickey up by the back of the neck like you would your cat & the mayhem ensued!...all the while Elvin's drunk, sorry a$$ is dragging this huge cooler of beer across the stage. Needless to say the local authorities were invited to participate & we were all invited to new accommodations paid for by the city...all except Elvin, the sorry SOB who started the crap! Needless to say we never got paid.

2 - I was 17 or 18 & the guitar player Greg in our band mother worked in a nursing home, (you know where this is going) and she wanted us to play for a dance they were having at the home. We went the day before & set the equipment in the "dance hall" and were going to meet back up there the next day. We show up & Greg's mom has us all Hawaiian shirts waiting & there's a big sign on the wall saying "Welcome Jamaica Boys!"...yep, we were now the Jamaica Boys & were instructed to play some Island Music...so we started out with "Pipeline"...we thought that was Island Music. About 15 seconds in, there were 50 oldsters with walkers & canes screaming at us & calling us every curse word you never heard your grandma say. So we got pi$$ed & being 17, 18 & 19 years old, we decided to play Alice Cooper's "Go To Hell"...needless to say we never got paid and could no longer practice at Greg's house.

...I've got more!...I've got lots more.....The Band

Great stories, guys! Keep em coming. Every time I check back on this thread and read the new stuff that's been added, I end up laughing my a$$ off. Thank you all and... please, MORE! Excited

John