EBS_freak

Just make sure you wear lots of makeup... or go on full on slipknot.

If you ever want to hate on a bass player... give them a dep gig. "Yeah, just standard stuff, no sweat". Just don't tell them it's jazz standards.

I suspect this is about keeping some sort of events around. What you've got to remember, there are still going to be a lot of people that won't entertain going around densely populated areas, so better that the event goes ahead in some sort of fashion, than not at all. I would wager there's many exhibitors that won't be exhibiting due to the uncertainty of the numbers and this may be one approach to trying to solve that problem. Rock and hard place. Better that there's some show of some type than none whatsoever. I think we are at just the beginning of the recovery of shows. C19 has battered lots of people and this is just a continuation of that.

Oh crumbs, glad that I'm not the only one! I've had that in reverse. Did a gig, unloaded the car and I must have put the bass next to the side of the car as I was taking everything else back into the house. Woke up the morning, doing a gig the next day and I found that I was a bass short. In the middle of a breakdown, my neighbour knocked on my front door. "We noticed you'd left a guitar out on the drive this morning when we went out, so we put it in our camper van so it'll be safe as we'd already locked up the house and set the alarm. Relieved doesn't begin.

Clearly somebody with big balls.

Give JTUK a shout and see if you can borrow the gig strides.

Oh man, talking about inappropriate things over a mic, that's just sparked a memory. Playing a thalidomide society ball, (I kid you not) without thinking, singer just goes and introduces the next song, "c'mon people, get your hands up in the air and clap those hands" I had to turn and face the back of the stage in shame. I didn't want to be on the same stage at all. It did spark off an interesting conversation on the journey home... "just how do thalidomide folk wipe their derrières?"

Oh… for sure :-p

That is clearly fishing for compliments. The guy asking how it sounds doesn’t care for your opinion or want to make use of somebody that could help better their sound, they are just looking for that ego boosting affirmation of “yeah, that sounds amazing. Best band I’ve ever heard. You guys should go on the X Factor” PS - if you find yourself in this situation and it’s clear that they are arrogant enough to not take on board anything you say… Always throw in the X Factor bit. It’s highly insulting to any pro musician and helps to cement the message of letting them know that you know exactly why they are asking you.

Then there's those annoying jerks that want to play soundman. OK, it's a given that sound check somebody will say, "that's too loud, you'll have to turn down", but the most memorable incident was when playing in a converted church, the "self appointed expert" came up to me and suggested I was running too much reverb on the desk. Everybody here will already know that the desk had zip reverb on... and yet, there that clown was, keeping going on and on about the excessive reverb that I had apparently applied on the desk. Mind you, perhaps I should have listened, after all, he did sound for The Drifters* * I actually know the sound guy for The Drifters. He's a good egg. I only added that comment for comedic effect.

Im dead. lol

That's no excuse. Just go to the churchyard and dig up their old bones... That reminds me. My nan insisted that my grandpa came with her to my brothers wedding... as a pile of ashes in a box. Had his own space at the table, much to my brothers annoyance (at least I think he was... it's one of those things we dont talk about) Is that normal? Or not? I'm not sure. But there's a first time for everything I guess.

Reading the words "The Drifters" automatically made me laugh. Round my neck of the woods, singing or playing in "The Drifters" has become a bit of long standing joke - or even a rite of passage. So long story short, there are no original Drifters left, none of the singers or musicians involved with "The Drifters" have anything linking them to the original band. It's just a name owned by a group that is throwing musicians together and touting them as "The Drifters" or the "The Official Drifters". If you find any predominantly midlands based musician, likelihood they have in their credits, played with "The Drifters". In reality is a theatre tribute show. I remember auditioning somebody for a band at the time who was obviously quite proud of this achievement... to which I replied, "Crumbs, it's harder to find somebody who hasn't played for The Drifters nowadays". Lets just say, management had an interesting management style and she sacked people as quick as she hired them. And I loves that fact that on the talkback mic, there was the MD on stage... and her from the back of the theatre shouting at everybody on stage. So yeah, "F#ck the Drifters". Absolute farce. Check out the wiki page - members and litigation paragraphs are probably the ones to focus on.

Get yourself out playing as many gigs as you can, and you'll be part of the stories before you know it... The crazy thing is, you don't even realise you are part of these crazy stories at the time because even though the funniest incidents aren't guaranteed to be a regular occurrence, they start popping up more times than you realise. I mean, hasn't everybody played at least one wedding where the cops have been called and blood been shed? And despite what you would think, the more monied and pompous the clients are, the worse the "unplanned and unwanted events" seem to be. Corporate gigs are mostly uneventful in comparison. Yes, you can play some fantastic events - but it also usually involves a whole day or just waiting around in a small roof that fast becomes hot, stuffy, stinky (food and fart related usually) and immensely boring. The only that I can remember having a great time when waiting to go on, is when the comedian booked to host the night was was in the room with us. I was hurting due to the amount of laughter.

I can relate. I dont do military baracks gigs anymore - every one I have done has been met with incident. No need to recall the stories, they are as you'd imagine... and pretty much as Bassman68s story. Turn up > wrestle with IDs getting entrance to the venue > everything is a pain in the derrière as you are clearer an outsider > Play gig > something kicks off > chaos follows > try to get yourself and your gear out of there as quick as you can. Nothing gets you sweating like a drunken squaddie screaming "play only Oasis" in your face.

Sorry if my posts are all a bit garbled as I just typed them out at speed whilst doing a brain dump. I'm going to have a look through my photos tonight to see if there's any gems that I've forgotten. I defo think Gap Year and the Stripper at the Red Lion are my favourite though. Weddings and birthdays always have far more drama than corporates! Actually, just remembered another one... some b8stard thought it would be funny to handcuff a drunken groom to the drivers door handle of the bands van. Not cool when you are 200 miles from home and wanting your bed. (that prompted a change to our contract where we could seek compensation for interference/damage to band equipment, including vehicles).

OK. Gap Year. Stick with it. It's good. This was a memorable gig for all the most cringe of reasons. So... this was down in Cornwall on a massive private estate in the middle of nowhere. It turned out to be for the wedding of the son of a Lord (I won't divulge names as he's quite trackable). Working through some of the events of the day - 1. We were asked to get changed in the servants quarters in the house. We were told that "Tarquin" would let us in and show us to the room where we can get changed. As the good lord told us - "Tarquin. Philippino bloke... but awfully nice. He'll show you the way." I don't think Tarquin was Tarquin's real name - and I don't know why a he would be anything but awfully nice... but there you go. 2. We went off to get changed and whilst in the toilets, a tin box was noticed on top of the back of the toilet cistern. It was inscribed with William and Cathrine. After some keen googling, I found out that it was a cake tin from the Royal Wedding. That was the first indication that these folks were connected as up until this name, we only had the name of the events organiser. For anybody interested, the tin looked like this: 3. We went through the hallway (on the way to our holding room with the hired help) and the place was full of the family with their more famous family members... including one who probably wasn't sweating in the photograph and a picture of the lord with Charlie boy. As the evening progressed, we realised that we were in the company of some quite notable people... and our "warm up" act (who was providing the music during pre dinner drinks) would appear to be somebody of pop royalty (I'm shocked that they didn't just get her band to play). Anyway, that's probably a story for another day... Carrying on... 4. The marquee was built onto a hillside - a platform had been built on stilts to have the marquee on the level - but give the infinity views out the side of the marquee. Pretty impressive stuff. This marquee was absolutely massive - with large lounging areas, separate bars, the main eating area, indoor fountains... just think of something completely over the top and multiply it by ten. The band area was a separate "surprise unveiling" - in that it looked like (from the inside of the marquee) it was just the side of the marquee... but it then opened up into a.. err.. nightclub in a marquee. So this brings us to our first notable incident. We were running on a generator - presumably the same one that was powering the whole of the marquee. There was a lot to power - and probably of note was the huge chandelier and hanging illuminated pinata (but more on that later). As we soundcheck, there was what I could only describe what felt and sounded like a bomb going off. The whole ground shook and the sound was just louder than anything I'd ever heard. Everything inside power wise, was dead. We went out to the generator was located, and there we found that the top of the generator had been blown clean off. Cue the electricians (whole team of them) trying to get phone signal to source another generator. To be fair, they sorted it pretty quickly. They'd got a make shift generator running and then another lorry turned up with whatever was needed to restore power. I had thought that would be the end of events... but turned out, that was only the start of the fun. 5. We went to the catering tent - and jeez, you have seen nothing like it on this planet... Curiously enough, despite the immense catering facilities, outside the marquee, there were two complete stoners (like, obviously stoned) cooking up some dubious looking meat in a dubious, patently unsafe oven, out in the open for all to see... with their rust bucket of a van parked next to them. Clearly there was something not quite right... so being a member of the band (which gives you the right to speak to folk, right?), I struck up a conversation. Turns out these chancers were cooking the meat for one of the main courses - which I seem to recall was something rare and oxen like. I asked them how they got the gig... and apparently, the client had been ringing around catering people to see if anybody knew how to cook this thing. It would seem nobody else would go near it... but this pair told me that they had said "yes, do it all the time, no problem". I looked at him... and he pre-empting me, he responded, "yes, we've never cooked it before, but I mean, how hard can it be?". You could see and feel the tension between the catering crew and the stoners... who by the end of the night couldn't stand due to their alcohol consumption. Hilarious. From a bystanders point of view. And no, I didn't partake in the food. Come to think of it though, I can't actually recall eating anything. Probably had a bag of crisps in the van. 6. We'd all sound checked and was waiting in the house ready for "the call" after the speeches. It was delayed... and delayed... and delayed. The speeches hadn't even happened... so I went out to investigate. Turns out that the best man had told the groom not to marry the bride whilst waiting at the altar as she was only after his money. She clearly was... just after the money. He - socially awkward, dweeby, pretty ugly (trying not to be too unkind here) guy... her, super model looks but not the err... supporting pedigree shall we say. It was clear who her guests were and who the grooms were. Anyway, turns out, one of the brides friends had overheard this and told the bride. Naturally, the bride went off the hook at the groom shortly after the matrimonial vows had been exchanged. Unbeknown to us, the whole day was running late as the bride and groom had vanished and spent the day arguing in the grounds. The wedding breakfast had mostly gone ahead without the bride and groom being present. 7. Eventually, about 11 o'clock (that's PM), the speeches happened. There had been some cooling off by this point and the best man got up to do his speech. Lets just say, he started the speech with (and I paraphrase here), "it all started as an unlucky chance meeting on a gap year in Ghana where the "happy" couple met. He then proceeded to rip into the bride. The father of the bride then ripped the mic out of the best mans drunken hands and kicked him out of the marquee. Then started another half hour of chaos and guest awkwardness. The father of the groom came across to me and apologised and said he would still try and make the first dance go ahead. 8. The first dance. Probably the most memorable first dance I have ever had the (dis)pleasure of seeing. About quarter to midnight, the "nightclub" was revealed. Bride and groom were dragged onto the dance floor (literally) and told to dance as they were causing embarrassment. (I found this so funny - like the most embarrassing thing for the family at this point was the reluctance to have a first dance?! ). We played "You're Too Good To Be True". I remember this sequence of events like they were only yesterday - a - band starts b - bride and groom do nothing c - singer prompts - "this is your time to shine x and y" d - nothing e - father of groom appears with a sword f - groom puts his hands awkwardly on brides hips g - bride removes grooms hands from her hips h - bride is standing there, groom is dancing in front of her like an awkward Alan Partridge. i - father of groom gives sword to groom j - father of groom whispers in groom ear k - groom jabs heart pinata with sword l - confetti falls on the happy couple, causing the bride to roll her eyes and storm off stage m - we finished song with groom just quivering in the middle of the dancefloor, the guests having remained absolutely quiet and motionless (even whilst the band was doing the baa daa baa daa!! bit...) n - the singer turns around and asks what we should do next, we just shrug - the dancefloor is now empty and some of the guests are dispersing o - father of groom comes over to band and mimics the hand to the neck movement (cut it there) p - he speaks to me - "you're only contracted to midnight and I dont think anybody is in the mood for music anyway" q - we start packing up at about 5 minutes to midnight in absolute silence. No music, no talking, nobody in the marquee was talking. I don't think the band spoke to each other until we were all back in the van. r - father of groom gives me an envelope "for our troubles". (I should have mentioned we had already been paid up front anyway... so I think this was embarrassment money) s- we drive out the venue, having packed up, past the bride and groom who were arguing at the gate which was at the perimeter of the field we were in. We wound down the window and thanked them before wishing them a very happy life together. So yeah. that was a memorable one. I've never been paid so much for 4 minutes of playing. (If you are wondering, my rate that night for playing was £150/minute)

Anybody want any more? I've just remembered a couple more - "Gap Year", "Trying to avoid getting arrested in Oxford", "Nice day for a red wedding".... "Inappropriate TV stings"

OK, so now I'm back at a keyboard... I was depping for a pub band - nice bunch of folk that alway seemed to go down well and get some great gigs. Anyway, I get the call and I ask for the details. 30th birthday party. I duly get the name of the pub - The Red Lion - (Main Rd Brereton), Rugeley way. No problem. Get the set list, business as usual, I'll meet them there. As it happens, I got there pretty early and parked up. I remember parking up next to a battered Astra and as I went to scope out the venue, I remember a rather large black police lady leaving the venue and getting into said battered Astra and then driving off at speed. Nothing too untoward - but I did think the car was either some cover or the budget in Staffordshire constabulary needed a cash injection to improve their cars. Anyway, I went into the venue, which seemed quite busy. A guy came up to me, quite flustered and asked who I was. I introduced myself and said I'm with the band. It was a this point I realised that something didn't feel quite right. Everybody was dressed in suits and me, being in a jeans and polo shirt, suddenly felt very undressed. Turns out that it was a wake. << Oh. Awkward. >> I apologised as I had clearly got the wrong venue and made a quick sharp exit. I went back to my car and got on the phone to the rest of the band who were still on their way. I explained that we needed to figure out what had gone wrong as I didn't want any rest of the band to go in and make the same mistake as I. Anyway, the band leader did some phoning around and got to speak to the client. Apparently, the band leader had just taken the "Red Lion" in Rugeley and said he knew where it was. Anyway, turns out that there is another "Red Lion"... that being one at Longdon Green, Rugeley. Still being the closest, I said I would meet them there. So off I drive to the Red Lion 2 and duly park up in the carpark... next to a familiar Astra. I get out car... and so does the policewoman. She comes over to me and asks me - did I just see you at the other Red Lion? I confirmed that yes, I had been there. She then asks me if she knows if this is the venue for a birthday party? I confirmed that it was - to the best of my knowledge. At this point, the penny begins to drop. She then goes, "Oh my God, you would not believe... I just stormed into the other pub, asking for the birthday boy before I pulled out my t1ts..." "Oh... so you're a.... right...." We both started feeling a bit uncomfortable before laughing. "Ah well, I'm sure the old boy would have appreciated your stripping if he was there to see it". Anyway, the band arrived, got inside, setup and started to play the first set. I had spoken to said police lady that a good opportunity would be to let us play for twenty minutes before coming in to investigate a noise complaint. Needless to say, it was a memorable night. Now, I'm no prude - but I learned quite a lot that night. This wasn't stripping per se... it went far, far, far beyond that. Lets just say the birthday boy got very lucky... in public.

I’ve just remembered a really good one… I’ll type it out tomorrow!

That time I was depping on a gig. It was for a corporate gig at Alton Towers. The bandleader, well... she got the date wrong and we arrived 24 hours early. I couldn't do the next day as I'd already got a gig. At least I was pretty local. The rest of them were travelling to and from London.

That time when the band van was reversed into the father of the brides brand new Maserati... before we'd played. Awkward.

Got a dep percussionist on a gig who'd been recommended to me. Historically he was a bit of a druggie but I'd been told he was clean now. Playing at a wedding gig, he was talking really loudly about his visit to Amsterdam where he'd stumbled upon a case of cocaine in the most prestige case. Apparently had all the various tools and stuff all in this nice presentation case. He stated that if somebody had spent that much time and money on the case, the contents must be the best s**t that he could ever dream of trying. No matter how often I told him shut up, he never did. Funny, he hasn't played with us since. I suspect when he disappeared just before the second set, he'd been partaking in some substance or another with the groomsmen with something in one of the venues toilet cubicles.

The time we played a gig and got stopped mid way through summer of 69 because how were we to know that was what was playing on the car radio when the bride was in the car with her brother in which her brother died in the crash that they were in. Must upgrade my crystal ball.

One of the earliest I can remember, was playing at the Robin 2 - playing with somebody that has gone on to do rather well for herself. Anyway, I was playing guitar. First song, I broke a string on my Strat... no worries, I had a spare Strat ready to go which I swapped onto mid song. I switched onto the other guitarists spare guitar for the second song. Bust a string in the second chorus. None of my Strats were hard tail at the time (I learned and got a hardtail Strat as a backup) so the rest of the gig was struggling on a 5 stringed woefully out of tune (and wouldn't stay put) guitar. Absolutely awful. I was so angry and embarrassed, I went back stage and threw my pint of water water down the toilet (which of course, is totally rock and roll). The sound man came backstage to say how great we sounded. The band did and of course, the powerhouse singer - but I was still hiding in shame. Sound guy goes to the toilet and sees all the water around the toilet and up the walls and asked what the fk had gone on. They just reply, "oh that's Russ, he does things like that when he has a bad gig". "What just p1ss all over the joint?" Then I had to explain, despite how ridiculous it sounded, it was just a pint of water that had caused the mess. Funnily enough, I still got asked back.