Your Worst Gig Ever

[Woodinblack]

Mine is deeply unexciting. Ie, that is what it was. We were the for 2 hours, had absolutely no involvement with anyone except one woman who kept asking for zz top between every song, as its what was played at her wedding, when we finally gave in we asked what song, and she didn't know.

It was very depressing.

All the others where things have gone wrong or something kicked off weren't worse because at least they weren't as dull as that!

That is an accurate example of what it was like, except bear in mind that there were about 100 people out in the garden, having a barbeque on a nice night. And about 40 people in the bar which is about 40' behind this.

And for a while there were a few kids who slid around on the shiny floor.

 

[AndyTravis]

19 minutes ago, drlargepants said:

Diet or caffeine free ?

Colombian 

[drlargepants]

25 minutes ago, AndyTravis said:

Colombian 

They do a fabulous espresso there so I’m told. 

[rushbo]

Worst gig, you say..?  Well, I've got a few to choose from...

An old Manic Street Preachers type band I played with many years ago, was tricked into playing a bikers wake. Various chapters spent the night glaring angrily at each other and completely ignoring the band. The only reason they weren't knocking lumps out of each other was because they'd agreed on a truce up until midnight. We crammed an hour-long set into 50 minutes, got off stage at 11.50 and literally threw all our gear into the van and sped off. We'd been travelling about 6-7 minutes when we saw about half a dozen cop cars speeding towards the venue...

Or there was the gig in Bolton where we travelled from Brum in the snow to play to about six people. Uncharacteristically, I got blind drunk and played a chunk of the set lying on a bannister rail at the top of some stairs with a 30 ft drop to my right. After the gig, we were interviewed by the music guy from the local paper. Unfortunately, I picked up his tape recorder, started singing Judas Priest songs into it, then slammed it onto the beer-soaked table, thus breaking it.  I'm not sure if he ever printed the piece...

Or the wedding gig where the two families absolutely hated each other. No one danced apart from the bride and groom (who were lovely). Instead, every few minutes, a group from one side of the room would march across the dance floor and have a little scuffle with some "opposing" guests before skulking back to their side of the room. As we were packing up, the police were called to stop a fight between an incredibly drunk and belligerent lady and an equally over-refreshed guy in a wheelchair.  Pretty evenly matched, I'd say.

We do it because we love it, right? Right?

[mikel]

It was strange but true that back in the 70s all sorts of bands were booked to play in CIU clubs in the North East. We pitched up at a club in Ashington one Saturday night ready to play out set of original songs. The place was concrete and up on pillars with car parking underneath. We set up and watched in desperation as the function room filled up with miners and there wives, all dressed up for a night out. They seemed, as did the club steward, less than impressed with our waist length hair and "Odd" stage attire. After the first two songs two women came up to the stage and uttered the immortal line "Your rubbish, why dont you play something we know." Feeling vulnerable  proceeded to introduce the rest of the songs with "This is the new single by"  Insert popular pop act name, and it seemed to work. After witnessing a fight between two middle aged women at the bar we decided to make the next song our last. Just before I announced the fact another two ladies approached the stage and said "You are much better than the band last week, they stopped playing about now and got a good kicking".  We hastily repeated 4 previous number from the set and got out quickly. The next Saturday night a Police officer was knifed in the car park.

[Newfoundfreedom]

I'm not sure this counts as my worst gig, as it was also my first, last, and only. So also I suppose that would also sadly make it my best. 

It was back at high school around '91 at the height of the Manchester music and indie scene. 

There were maybe half a dozen people in the whole school of maybe a couple of thousand students who were into the rock / metal scene, and 3 of those was our band, plus one older lad who could barely play a note but he was in the band because he had a van and a PA. 

Anyhow. We turn up to the gig, which was supposed to be several bands supporting a local "professional" band who were actually signed and making records. 

So we get there having absolutely no clue how a proper sound setup works having only every played through practice amps. But we figure it'll be OK because we'll get time to suss it out watching the other bands before we go on. 

I still to this day don't know what happened but someone just came up and said you're on first. So off I went onto the stage with my bass, shaking like a sh#tting dog with no idea what I was doing. It was then I realized I didn't even have a guitar lead to plug in, I just assumed one would be provided. So off I went hunting around until a member of another band lent me a lead which I swear was about 3 feet long. 

Now it might be worth mentioning at this point that our drummer was also the singer, so I was essentially the "front man" as I did a few backing vocals.

So here I was. Chained to an amp with a three foot lead trying my best to lean forward enough to get somewhere near the mic. I must have looked like a bulldog at the end of a chain trying to gnaw on a slightly out of reach bone. 

Looking out across the hall full with a couple of hundred floppy curtain haired indi fans, (I swear all I could see was hair and noses) who had never heard anything heavier than The Charlatans, we launched into our first song, Metallica's Seek and Destroy. 

..........nothing

..........absolutely nothing.

It was like watching 200 rabbits in headlights. I swear no one even moved an inch. 

Song 2, Am I Evil, by the aforementioned Metallica, and I'm sure I see a couple of people shuffling and moving around, probably going to the toilet or getting ready to leave. 

Song 3. Enter Sandman. Luckily this was in quite heavy rotation on MTV at the time so at least a few people had heard it. Then a miracle happened. The whole place was jumping around and moshing. I swear I may have even seen a forehead or two. 

I walked off the stage after those three songs feeling like a rock God! 

We found out later the whole thing had been videod and to this day the guitarist, who's still a very good friend of mine still has a copy and occasionally reminds me by sending me snippets. It always makes me laugh and cringe in equal measure. 

 

Edited September 16, 2018 by Newfoundfreedom

[Leonard Smalls]

Back in the early 90s my old punk-funk band's manager had managed to get 3 record label scouts to come and see one of our shows; we'd been favourably reviewed already in Sounds, Melody Maker and the NME, and had a small but crazed following...

About an hour before the gig a friend of the keyboardist offered us all some pills, saying it'd improve our playing and stage show no end. So we foolishly took 3 or 4 each.

We all became very wide-eyed and manic, and thirsty. So after at least 6 pints each we jumped onto the stage, all of us feeling like heroes despite our gritted teeth and heart rate of 250bpm. So we proceeded to play all of our songs at that sort of speed as well, though not with any accuracy or even at the same tempo as each other. We jumped about, postured like rock-gods and made possibly the worst racket any band this side of Lost Virgins From Outer Space had ever produced, much to the dismay of the crowd of 200+.

Luckily the set ended a lot more quickly than it normally would, and we all went off to congratulate ourselves on our triumph, while awaiting the record company scouts who would be about to enter the business' biggest ever bidding war. Funnily enough we never heard from the scouts again, and it took nearly a year to build up any sort of audience!

Needless to say, we never drank more than a pint before a gig after that, and the keyboardist's mate was banned.

[Dom in Dorset]

Glastonbury festival a few years ago, we were playing in a big top, it was raining so the place was packed. We had just played an absolute stormer of a gig on the band stand stage and shot across the site to our next gig at the Avalon cafe through mud, punters etc. We got on stage and checked all the levels and we were just about to do our first number (this was also the sound check) when ......a guy in a high vis vest comes up to the stage and says "the tent is falling down, everybody out!!!"
Three hundred people were herded out by marshals while three men hit tent pegs with sledge hammers. we stood back stage waiting until we were given the all clear to go back on ...in time to play three numbers as the punters trudged back in.

[Frank Blank]

I drove a band (who shall remain nameless) to their first European gig at the Paradiso in Amsterdam. Having set up and soundchecked I gave the band the usual warning (that probably doesn’t apply these days) about being wary of the higher quality weed there than back in Blighty and said I’d meet them back at the venue before on stage time. I get back only to find the drummer has a) over indulged in said weed and b) managed to bring a very old bottle of Kaolin and Morphine with him. Now Kaolin and Morphine, if left alone for many years, will separate out and the clear liquid at the top is (I’m led to believe) the morphine. Apparently the drummer had ‘had a swig or two’ of this clear liquid and was now on a sofa in the dressing room and in a deep sleep. I managed to get him sitting upright and conscious (barely) but his reactions and responses were massively impaired, as if he were in slow motion. At this point I realised I was going to have to be the drummist for this gig, I had a general idea of how all the songs went but lacked the knowledge of the finer points, but it was a punk band, how many finer points could there be? Anyway I did the gig and it was ok, I just hit everything hard and started and stopped in the right places. The next day on the way home the drummer finally regained his senses somewhere near Ghent, he thought we were still on the way to the gig and was actually quite angry that I’d taken his place. I pulled over at a rest point and dragged him out of the van. Held up against a tree by his throat being assured he would be left there if he carried on seemed to restore a modicum of democracy to the proceedings although he did kick off again when he realised I got paid his cut. I’d like to say it was a good lesson not to over indulge but if it was then it went unheeded, this behaviour continued and eventually he was kicked out. Little did I know that this lesson in dealing with idiots in bands was just a taster of what was to come!

Edited September 16, 2018 by Frank Blank

[rogerstodge]

4 hours ago, Frank Blank said:

I drove a band (who shall remain nameless) to their first European gig at the Paradiso in Amsterdam. Having set up and soundchecked I gave the band the usual warning (that probably doesn’t apply these days) about being wary of the higher quality weed there than back in Blighty and said I’d meet them back at the venue before on stage time. I get back only to find the drummer has a) over indulged in said weed and b) managed to bring a very old bottle of Kaolin and Morphine with him. Now Kaolin and Morphine, if left alone for many years, will separate out and the clear liquid at the top is (I’m led to believe) the morphine. Apparently the drummer had ‘had a swig or two’ of this clear liquid and was now on a sofa in the dressing room and in a deep sleep. I managed to get him sitting upright and conscious (barely) but his reactions and responses were massively impaired, as if he were in slow motion. At this point I realised I was going to have to be the drummist for this gig, I had a general idea of how all the songs went but lacked the knowledge of the finer points, but it was a punk band, how many finer points could there be? Anyway I did the gig and it was ok, I just hit everything hard and started and stopped in the right places. The next day on the way home the drummer finally regained his senses somewhere near Ghent, he thought we were still on the way to the gig and was actually quite angry that I’d taken his place. I pulled over at a rest point and dragged him out of the van. Held up against a tree by his throat being assured he would be left there if he carried on seemed to restore a modicum of democracy to the proceedings although he did kick off again when he realised I got paid his cut. I’d like to say it was a good lesson not to over indulge but if it was then it went unheeded, this behaviour continued and eventually he was kicked out. Little did I know that this lesson in dealing with idiots in bands was just a taster of what was to come!

Name the band go on!! Just type it small and no one will notice.

[nige1968]

Too many to list but here's a flavour. Surely most of us have experienced some or all of these?

• The one where, as the set drew towards its climax, we were interrupted and asked to draw the meat raffle. (And won a piece of meat)
• The one where we ended up soundtracking a fight between two women at a working men's club, not wanting either to up the tension or to go silent. Weirdest jam ever
• The one where I was dragged out of sick bay (glandular fever) to do a gig, despite my near-constant dribbling and loose grip on consciousness
• The 'regular' gig where the landlord told us we were brilliant if there were punters, and sh*t if there weren't, irrespective of how it had actually gone.
• The one where some fruity young music students invited us to 'headline' their gig, so as to borrow lights and sound equipment, then left (with the entire audience) before we started.
• The one where half the band were on one side of the toilet door and the other half were opposite, stuck behind the pub quiz machine. Stand-off every time someone needed a wee.
• The one where the football was on the pub's TV at the same time as us
• The one where we did a spot for a (now long defunct) ultra-local TV station, then were dropped (due to a 'misunderstanding' with the producer) in favour of a piece about Southampton Airport. It wasn't a Southampton TV station, either.
• The one where the depping drummer played everything a la Vic Reeves' club singer routine  ...  and as we packed up commented: "I thought that went pretty well."

Could be worse. One of my bandmates remembers the landlord at one London venue having to pacify a bloke who had a gun. Another where they made it all the way to a gig in Cornwall, to find themselves double-booked and having to try every other pub in town on spec.

And we've had our share of brilliant ones, too. Remember one where the singer had everyone in the pub doing percussion to a spur-of-the-moment Hawkwind improv, and two very nice German ladies insisting we signed their T-shirts. Maybe one for another thread.

Edited September 16, 2018 by nige1968
clarity

[Dom in Dorset]

18 minutes ago, nige1968 said:

Too many to list but here's a flavour. Surely most of us have experienced some or all of these?

• The one where, as the set drew towards its climax, we were interrupted and asked to draw the meat raffle. (And won a piece of meat)
• The one where we ended up soundtracking a fight between two women at a working men's club, not wanting either to up the tension or to go silent. Weirdest jam ever
• The one where I was dragged out of sick bay (glandular fever) to do a gig, despite my near-constant dribbling and loose grip on consciousness
• The 'regular' gig where the landlord told us we were brilliant if there were punters, and sh*t if there weren't, irrespective of how it had actually gone.
• The one where some fruity young music students invited us to 'headline' their gig, so as to borrow lights and sound equipment, then left (with the entire audience) before we started.
• The one where half the band were on one side of the toilet door and the other half were opposite, stuck behind the pub quiz machine. Stand-off every time someone needed a wee.
• The one where the football was on the pub's TV at the same time as us
• The one where we did a spot for a (now long defunct) ultra-local TV station, then were dropped (due to a 'misunderstanding' with the producer) in favour of a piece about Southampton Airport. It wasn't a Southampton TV station, either.
• The one where the depping drummer played everything a la Vic Reeves' club singer routine  ...  and as we packed up commented: "I thought that went pretty well."

Could be worse. One of my bandmates remembers the landlord at one London venue having to pacify a bloke who had a gun. Another where they made it all the way to a gig in Cornwall, to find themselves double-booked and having to try every other pub in town on spec.

And we've had our share of brilliant ones, too. Remember one where the singer had everyone in the pub doing percussion to a spur-of-the-moment Hawkwind improv, and two very nice German ladies insisting we signed their T-shirts. Maybe one for another thread.

The music student booking rang a bell...we were once asked by another band to fill in for their regular slot because they had a gig elsewhere and wanted to keep the booking going and were worried that if they didn't do their monthly gig or at least provide an alternative they would lose it. They then told everybody not to come because they weren't going to be there! 

[bassbiscuits]

There was the Halloween gig near Doncaster a few years ago when I felt so ill I had to keep pulling over on the way to vomit out of the car door. 

Spent most of the night in the car park in a cold sweat trying to get some fresh air and not barf. 

Managed the gig without passing out and succeeded in not spewing while singing which was a miracle.

Seem to remember a big gang of lads singing some massively racist chanting as I was leaving too, which was nice. 

[Woodinblack]

37 minutes ago, nige1968 said:

Too many to list but here's a flavour. Surely most of us have experienced some or all of these?

• The one where, as the set drew towards its climax, we were interrupted and asked to draw the meat raffle. (And won a piece of meat)

Yes, but we never won the meat raffle!

 

 

[knirirr]

2 minutes ago, Woodinblack said:

Yes, but we never won the meat raffle!

 

 

I mentioned this one to the OH, who said that it once happened to her brass band, the principal euphonium taking the top prize.

[nige1968]

4 minutes ago, Woodinblack said:

Yes, but we never won the meat raffle!

 

 

You need to play smaller venues with fewer punters

[Woodinblack]

36 minutes ago, nige1968 said:

You need to play smaller venues with fewer punters

haha - trust me, the 4 of us did make up a large group of the people present!

[Oopsdabassist]

I once got dragged out of bed to to a 70th birthday party for a band friend, rotten case of the flu, shivering and twitching so much I was actually picked up by a band mate (never happened again!)  The hall his family had had picked had the worst acoustics in the county, not that I really noticed as I spent the whole gig propped against a wall, playing root notes and hoping to die. It was a 2 hander weekend too, the following night I don't even remember getting home, and had to get my good lady to give me a lift the following day to collect my car, and my rig......left in the pub. I got paid though, so autopilot is obviously a wonderful thing!

[nige1968]

"playing root notes and hoping to die" lolz

[Newfoundfreedom]

53 minutes ago, nige1968 said:

"playing root notes and hoping to die" lolz

That's how I do it on a good day. 😂

[andytoad]

12 hours ago, Woodinblack said:

Yes, but we never won the meat raffle!

 

 

Interruptions seem common, someone usually walks up to the singer of guitarist mid song to ask them something, not at all considering the band are mid number.

We played an outside gig the other week where this happened due to a lost bag. She repeatedly harangued the guitarist for multiple announcements. Turns out the owner was standing next to her (and said bag) all along.

’come on love, we’re trying to close the set’ was overheard...

 

[Woodinblack]

Well, yeh, we have that a lot, but our singer copes well with people. He is a people person. I am not, so I do worse on it.

A few gigs ago there was one of the normal guys wanting high 5s or fist bumps with the singer, then he came up to me to do the same. Sorry mate, some part of me using 2 hands to play this thing which means I want to stop that to play your games? 

[Happy Jack]

BLOOD

The very first pub gig I ever played was at the Salmon & Ball in the East End, a corner pub with doors onto Cambridge Heath Rd and Bethnal Green Rd.  Maybe the area has been gentrified since then ... it certainly wasn't bloody gentrified when I played there.

We set up with our backs against the East wall of the pub, between the two doors, and started playing. Halfway through the first set a couple of black guys came in, bought their drinks, and sat peaceably at the back of the pub. Some of the white skinhead types at the bar were giving them the eye, and the atmosphere went thoroughly rank. It didn't help that our keyboard player was black.

Sure enough, after a while a couple of these East End good ol' boys decided to start something and headed to the back of the pub. There were some verbals, and then one of these idiots decided to do it like they do on telly and knocked the end of his beer bottle on the edge of the table = instant lethal weapon, right?

Erm ... no. I come from a family of coppers going back to Victorian times (believe it or not) and one thing I've heard plenty of is that when you smash a glass or a bottle like they do in the movies (with a prop made of sugar), the most likely outcome is that you end up with a handful of broken glass.

So tough guy idiot #1 is now standing there with blood spurting out of his hand, tough guy idiot #2 looks like he's going to cry, the two black guys seem unimpressed, and the landlord takes over. This being the heart of the old East End, the guv'nor looks exactly (and I mean exactly) like Grant from Eastenders. He drags them behind the bar so that he can run the cold tap over the damaged hand, then produces a mass of that blue kitchen towel they use in pubs and gets tough guy idiot #1 to mash it up in his hands, finally escorts them to the Cambridge Heath Road exit and shows them the way to the nearest A&E. He's done this before, hasn't he?

We're still playing.

Next, the guv'nor starts taking tables and stools and builds a barricade (seriously, I'm not making this up) against the newly-bolted door onto Cambridge Heath Road. Then he goes to the door onto Bethnal Green Road, which is actually a pair of narrow doors. He closes and bolts one of the narrow doors and takes up position in the narrow doorway that he's left open. His white t-shirt has been liberally sprayed with the blood of tough guy idiot #1 which makes him look a lot like Bruce Willis in a Die Hard movie, and there he stays for the rest of the set.

People in the pub are allowed to leave, people outside the pub are not allowed in.

Unsurprisingly, by the end of our first set the pub is empty apart from us, the guv'nor, and a barmaid. He pays us off, apologises to us (!), and we very sheepishly break down and leave.

The most astonishing thing about this story is that I ever played another gig.

 

[Happy Jack]

CROWD

We've all played to "empty rooms", but I can actually improve on that. 

We were playing the White Bear in Ruislip (now a very nice restaurant); there were maybe half a dozen people in the band side of the pub and a few more in the snug round the corner. They'd all been there before we set up.

As soon as we started playing these people started to drift away - we weren't why they were in the pub. 

Our two guitarists (one being MacDaddy of this parish) were both using wireless systems. After a while they got intrigued at the complete lack of activity - literally no sign of anyone - so they walked out into the pub.

They came back a minute later to report that there were no punters at all in the pub, nor any in the beer garden, and seeing as the pub was empty both the bar staff had gone out for a smoke.

We were playing, quite literally, to a completely empty building.

[Happy Jack]

THREATS

Unbelievably, the White Bear invited us back. Huh? Well, it was £250 and we needed more gigs so we accepted the gig. Bad mistake.

The only punters were a large extended family of pikeys. I'm sure there are some really nice, friendly Travellers out there. Well these were the other sort.

Most of them were adult but they had a kid with them, maybe 12 or 13. They started pestering us to let the lad get up and sing. With some trepidation we turned them down, but agreed to let him sing (unaccompanied) through the PA at the break.

Hearing a 13-year-old pikey kid singing Coming Down Sunday Morning is an experience.

We started the second set and within a few minutes they were again demanding that we let the boy take over as our lead singer for the night. Given the volume level this was not a conversation - more a matter of mouthed words and curt headshakes.

Halfway through Let's Dance the pikey leader strode up on stage, got me in a bear hug (while I continued trying to play) and bellowed in my ear:

"Youse had best come round to my way of thinking or the boots will come off!"

So we did. We turned into a karaoke band for the rest of the evening, and the pikeys actually seemed to appreciate our efforts.

It was only later that it occurred to us all that "the boots will come off" is about as meaningless a threat as any of us had ever heard.

It remains a catchphrase in the the band to this day.

Edited September 17, 2018 by Happy Jack