Your Bands Best Spinal Tap Moment

[Beedster]

49 minutes ago, TimR said:

My first gig. In the 80s.

 

The singer didn't even show up. We tried ringing his house several times. No answer.

 

Turns out his mum had made him go to his gran's birthday party. 

 

Rock and roll baby. 

Ah yeh, we had the same problem, Billy Idol’s mum was quite pushy IIRC 👍

[rwillett]

1 hour ago, TimR said:

My first gig. In the 80s.

 

The singer didn't even show up. We tried ringing his house several times. No answer.

 

Turns out his mum had made him go to his gran's birthday party. 

 

Rock and roll baby. 

 

If it had been my mum, she'd have the handkerchief out rubbing off invisible spots off my already scrubbed face, telling me sternly not to mention the funny smell around gran, flatten my hair and don't talk about music as no one ones to hear about it.

 

Rob

[Gasman]

Ah, band vans! My 70s covers band 'Sweeney' were loaned the bass-player's hotelier mother's spare diesel Transit delivery van and told to take care of it! We became one of the AA's best customers, usually due to a random cutting-out of the engine on accelerating from rest. Then, while returning from a gig at RAF Northallerton (supporting the Pioneers 'Let your Yeah be Yeah') there was a crunching noise from the engine and the oil light came on. 'Just keep going, it's only about 150 miles to London!' said our gitrist. but after five of them the poor old York diesel had a Julius seizure, fortunately right next to a phone box. 

 

To add to the fun, we had the lead singer from the Pioneers with us, sitting on an speaker cabinet. He was dressed only in his satin form-fit stage gear, after he'd fallen out with the other two singers who'd left him stranded and gone back to London without him. Having called the AA and suggesting that they bring a new oil pump (they laughed), we were resigned to a very long wait in a tiny village at two in the morning waiting for rescue. However, Mr Pioneer had other ideas. He phoned for a taxi and offered to take one of us back to London with him. Guess who insisted upon going? No prizes, it was our gitrist...

 

We were towed to a garage at 4am. At 8am the mechanic told us that the engine was toast, The bass-player's mother went tonto on the phone and insisted that her long-suffering partner came up with a pal to tow the van back to London the following week because she was sure the garage was ripping us off - turned out, it wasn't.

 

 In the meantime, we had a gig the next night in Deal (Kent). I got a lift from the garage guy to Lincoln racecourse, not to so as get a horse and cart, but to the van rental company that operated there (they couldn't spell, their vehicles all had 'rented from the Wining Post' loud and proud on the tailgate). We loaded up the gear, left the Tranny and drove via Epsom (the three of us remaining all lived near there), had a sh*t, shower and snack then picked up our gitrist in Clapham and went on to Deal - just in time.

 

After two more gigs using the rental in Sussex and London, we unloaded and I drove it back to Lincoln. Got a train back to Kings Cross, tube then Southern Electric (ah, civiiisation at last!) back home. Two days rest, then a local rental van (lovely brand-new Bedford CF with sliding driver's door) for next gig in Plymouth. 

 

Not hard to see why we didn't make much money...

[Piers_Williamson]

39 minutes ago, Gasman said:

Ah, band vans! My 70s covers band 'Sweeney' were loaned the bass-player's hotelier mother's spare diesel Transit delivery van and told to take care of it! We became one of the AA's best customers, usually due to a random cutting-out of the engine on accelerating from rest. Then, while returning from a gig at RAF Northallerton (supporting the Pioneers 'Let your Yeah be Yeah') there was a crunching noise from the engine and the oil light came on. 'Just keep going, it's only about 150 miles to London!' said our gitrist. but after five of them the poor old York diesel had a Julius seizure, fortunately right next to a phone box. 

 

To add to the fun, we had the lead singer from the Pioneers with us, sitting on an speaker cabinet. He was dressed only in his satin form-fit stage gear, after he'd fallen out with the other two singers who'd left him stranded and gone back to London without him. Having called the AA and suggesting that they bring a new oil pump (they laughed), we were resigned to a very long wait in a tiny village at two in the morning waiting for rescue. However, Mr Pioneer had other ideas. He phoned for a taxi and offered to take one of us back to London with him. Guess who insisted upon going? No prizes, it was our gitrist...

 

We were towed to a garage at 4am. At 8am the mechanic told us that the engine was toast, The bass-player's mother went tonto on the phone and insisted that her long-suffering partner came up with a pal to tow the van back to London the following week because she was sure the garage was ripping us off - turned out, it wasn't.

 

 In the meantime, we had a gig the next night in Deal (Kent). I got a lift from the garage guy to Lincoln racecourse, not to so as get a horse and cart, but to the van rental company that operated there (they couldn't spell, their vehicles all had 'rented from the Wining Post' loud and proud on the tailgate). We loaded up the gear, left the Tranny and drove via Epsom (the three of us remaining all lived near there), had a sh*t, shower and snack then picked up our gitrist in Clapham and went on to Deal - just in time.

 

After two more gigs using the rental in Sussex and London, we unloaded and I drove it back to Lincoln. Got a train back to Kings Cross, tube then Southern Electric (ah, civiiisation at last!) back home. Two days rest, then a local rental van (lovely brand-new Bedford CF with sliding driver's door) for next gig in Plymouth. 

 

Not hard to see why we didn't make much money...

I'm tempted to say "Luxury....in my day....we would have dreamt of being left at side o't road"  but it sounded b....y hard work!

[Norris]

Most of our "breakdowns" were actually just running out of petrol because we were too skint to put more than a fiver in at a time. We'd be running on fumes a lot of the time. The number of times I was roused from my post-gig slumbers by "Norris wake up - we've run out of petrol" doesn't bear thinking about

 

The heater never worked so we were always freezing in winter. We had a piece of carpet that we used to put over ourselves to keep warm. Why we didn't keep a blanket or two in the van goodness only knows. Stoopid youths, eh?

 

Then there was the night we pulled into the motorway services for fuel and the engine wouldn't start again. Then it was a ring-round of people to find someone with breakdown recovery cover to be "driving" the van. That was a long night! It turned out that a piston had blown

[Steve Browning]

I played in a band that toured the North East as a Dire Straits tribute. Very rewarding musically. That Knopfler is a genius. 

 

The van was a bit of a state. It was covered in rust patches. We named it Speckled Jim after the pigeon murdered by Lt Blackadder. 

 

After the last gig in Blyth we had to drive home, putting in almost as much oil as petrol. We got as far as Guildford and just started to allow ourselves to think we'd get home when Speckled Jim had the last word and conked out. 

[alant]

Not a van moment, but years ago played a largish venue in Huddersfield. We were in the dressing room, which was directly behind the stage, waiting for our time to go on, when the DJ came running in. He said something like "Alright Lads", pi$$ed in the sink and ran back to the stage again.

 

 

[leschirons]

2006, France. Music bar. I'm depping in a seven piece blues band.  Alain, the keyboard player, whilst technically brilliant, was a nightmare to play with. He'd spent the previous five years in a jazzy trio, drums, rhythm guitar and him so, he'd played all the bass, all the solos and couldn't help over playing. You wouldn't have even noticed if me, or the two guitarists and the harmonica player had left the stage. We got to the end of the first set. I unplugged my bass (active) popped it on the stand and went out front to have a smoke.  The first thing I see is two feet, waggling, about 18" off the ground. The harmonica player has him pinned up against the front window, screaming at him in french except for the English words.  " My fu#k#ng solos"  😂

I was told he'd left after the next gig with a "no time to really commit to a band" excuse.