|
|
Post by David Gordon Burke on Nov 19, 2004 11:29:05 GMT -5
I just received this letter from my brother, who is a busy bass player in my hometown of Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. (Recently joined us as user luve2fli) I thought I would add it to the site and start a thread called "Tales from the Road." Tell us your memorable gig, Good, Bad, Strange, whatever. (keep it clean haha)
Here is the letter. I will add my own horror story shortly.
Stoney
I hit the road with a band I was subbing in with around 6:30pm last night for what was supposed to be a quick, one-off out-of-towner in Montreal. 2 hour drive. Cool club. Get down to Montreal, load in at Bourbon St., play
three long-assed sets to an empty house and load out. We're back on the road by 2:30am. I figure perfect, stop for a doughnut, sleep for an hour, get back home around 4:00am, crash until around 9ish and get I disagree into work - this would give me about 6 hours sleep which is cool.
.......but nooooooooo
We pull into Hudson/St. Lazare (just outside Montreal) around 2:45, get our drinks and doughnuts and the fugging van dies. Starter is dead. Towtruck shows up at 4:00am and advises us that he can only take 2 of us.
Band-leader calls his girlfriend to come and pick him up and decides to stay in Hudson to wait for her. Drummer and I hop in the towtruck and head back to Ottawa. Driver drops us at a Ford dealership on the outskirts of
Ottawa at 6:20 am. I call my wife and she and my daughter come out to pick us up. Drop off the drummer at 7:00am and finally hit the hay for a few hours at 7:15 am. Got to work at 11:00am and, needless to say, I'm a
steaming pile of doo-doo. Oh yeah, the gear's still in the van.
Fun gig.
Sean
|
|
|
|
Post by David Gordon Burke on Nov 19, 2004 12:15:56 GMT -5
So here are my tales from the road.
Years ago I played in a band called Beat Crazy. We were out of town at a great nightclub called "The Longest Bar" and it really did have a bar that was something like 70 meters long. It had aquariums built into it and the owner would stock the aquariums with trout and bass that he would catch on his fishing trips.
The customers would tell their wives they were going fishing, then drink at the bar all day and before leaving, buy a fish to take home. HAHA.
So we're playing our first night at this place, during hunting season. Right after the show the owner tells us that he doesn't have rooms for us and that he has booked us rooms at another bar about 12 miles away.
Problem is that only the sound man drives and he is very drunk.
With no other option, we pile into the van. Just as we pulled into the parking lot of the other hotel the sirens and the red lights started flashing, so our driver got arrested for DUI.
Next night, (Saturday) the club is full. Lots of nice French girls shaking it on the dance floor. So this one girl starts to flirt with our guitar player. Then her boyfriend shows up and starts arguing. The audience was on our side cause the band was pretty good and they didn't want this fool to ruin the show.
A fight breaks out. Within 15 minutes tables and chairs are flying across the club and we are huddled on stage trying to protect the equiptment.
And to make matters worse, since this is the middle of nowhere, out in the country, the only activity that these young guys have is to enroll and study at the local Kung Fu academy. Looked like something out of a Jet Li movie. Karate chops and flying drop kicks all over the place.
Finally the owner's 5 bruiser sons, (all big country boys) come out from behind the bar with lead piles wrapped in electrical tape and start to herd the crowd out the door.
One guy had hidden a car jack under the pool table and he takes a swing at one of the sons with the car jack. It connects across the guy's shoulder and suddenly his arm is hanging kind of funny off his body.
At this point I am ready to puke. The guys arm is flopping around like a fish out of water. The other brothers jumped on this guy and give him a pounding worthy of WWF. Not pretty.
The night is ruined so we get paid, loaded the gear and got the hell out of dodge. What a gig.
Goes to show you that playing on the road is good for the memory, because I will never forget that one.
Stoney
|
|
|
|
Post by David Gordon Burke on Nov 25, 2004 12:57:41 GMT -5
Here is the other side of the coin. The best 2 gigs of my life.
Same band as the horror story from above. We got hired to play a graduation for a French Adult Education High School in Quebec, Canada. It was to be held at the city hall, across the river from Ottawa.
So we rent a ton of equiptment, (4 way system) and load the gear into two vans and off we go.
I had never been to the city hall but it was a rotunda. 10 circular floors of offices looking down on a main lobby. Enorumous room.
We set up the stage and equiptment and start sound check. The kick drum sounds like a bloody cannon in this room, KA-BOOM. Very cool.
After sound check we get fed a banquet dinner in a private dinning room just for the band and friends. Waiters in tuxes bring us Filet Mingnon, red wine and all the first class grub you can imagine.
After dinner we go back to the dressing room. We are supposed to start playing at 10pm. We get dressed, tune up and are ready to go.
About 9:30 the organizer comes back with a tray, like a little mini-bar. Says that the awards part of the evening is running late, so the bar is for us to have a drink or two. Says that if we empty it there is no problem.
(I immediately stashed a bottle of Chivas Regal in my back pack)
Finally at 11 pm. they tell us it is time to start playing. We head to the stage. 3000 screaming, half drunk Frenchmen who really, really wanted to dance. They had the right band cause we played better that night than ever.
I went home with a full belly, two bottles of booze and $400 for one night's work.
The other best experience was not a paid gig. It was a local bar that had talent night. I was playing like latin style guitar. (This was years before the whole Latin music thing got big) I was the only guy in town that could sing in Spanish other than a couple of those keyboard guys with their pre-programmed Kareoke type solo gig disasters.
Anyway, I show up at the club one night and by coincidence all my buddies who were regular jam partners were there. So we decide to get up. But...... the best horn players in town are there too...... and the best Jazz keyboard player....... and three of the best percussion players in town.
So we start jamming on Guajira and Evil ways by Santana and it is like the hottest sound I have ever heard. If Carlos Santana himself had been in the audience he would have fired me and hired the band on the spot.
Needless to say, my Chilean Girlfriend was mucho impressed. Can you say, "Good Lovin?" HAHA.
Stoney
Come on guys, let's hear your road stories.
|
|
|
|
Post by TexasFM3 on Dec 24, 2004 13:23:25 GMT -5
|
|
