Old musician road stories.

Gord.T

Gord.T

Still "Senior Member"
I've been meaning to start this thread for a long time.
Wth,I've had a few beers, and, I feel like it and I can so, wth.

Road stories from your old musician days.
I know you can't post all of them obviously.
I'm cure Chris and Joe might have a couple they can post in public. Anyone else?

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I was playing in Etobicoke,Ont, around 1998 in the peak of my burnout days.
Downstairs from Zacks. I forget the name of it but it had the name 'Horse' in it.
"Iron Horse" or some stupid thing. A lot of the bars I was playing in then had the name 'Horse' in them. It was a country thing I guess.
We were playing country rock at that time.

Place was packed on a Saturday night. 300 seater or so. Typical bar.
We had about 16 par lights running along the back wall overhead and another 16 out front.
Black wall stage with a back door right off center of the stage to hang out.

Well, we had to do a matinee that afternoon. Such is life. So, I got into a bottle of Vodka. Which was pretty cool
and typical for a Saturday afternoon crowd, until around the third set that night, and having gotten into a few more beer.

At that point in the night I wasn't giving too much of a shi* about anything.
So, right in the middle of the set, I got off the keyboards and took up a seat on the floor on the side of the stage.
No one noticed. It was a big stage and the way the lighting was, it was hard to see.

So, I sat there, watching the packed dance floor, and the band rocking away, oblivious to me not even playing.
Then the lead singer sais "Let's hear it for the keyboard player".
And the crowd cheered. But, lol, there I was, sitting on the floor watching, pissed out of shape, and I just laughed at the whole scenario.
No one knew I wasn't even playing. Not even the other band mates. Seriously.

One of a few pivotal moments that reinforced my decision to say "poo poo this, I quite."

Good times man, in hindsight. -Cheers.
I have a couple more little ones.

Anyone else got a good one that I can laugh at?
Or just a good road story, I guess?
 
No stories yet?

Here's another little one.

We're playing up north in Pembrook Ont, aka shi*-Hole North, on the 'Hide Your Mothers and Daughters Tour", and we're staying in the rooms upstairs.
On a break I started up the stairs. Half way up the stairs the bend leads to a door over the roof of the bar, then the stairs goes up to two rooms at the top.

While walking up the stairs, a girl, around 22ish, walks out of the mid level roof door, in her underwear. A bra and panties, sees me and stops for a second.
I take a peek, ofcourse, and notice she looks a little startled so I look back at the ground as if nothing is happening.

She starts walking up further and goes in one of the two rooms and I go in the other which was the band room.

I still can't figure out what she was doing out there on the roof in her underwear, but I guess she liked the music.
 
Don't mind me. I'm here all night.
"Check one two, check, check, Sibilance, Sibilance."

#3

We were to play in London Ont. We left from Bellevile, about 5 hours away.
Just outside of London we got a flat front tire.
Apart from that not killing us, we had a truck full of gear, we called a friend who tows transports.
$400/hr. He lives in Belleville too. So that was about 5 hours for him to get out to pick us up and the ride back home.
We got the truck fixed the same/next day and made the trip back out to London again to play the gig the next night.

Needless to say, we didn't make 2 cents on that gig.

That was a good one.
 
On a self financed cross country, month long, tour. We were 7 dudes in a smelly van. We were looking for a camp ground and were very lost (pre GPS). All the passengers except the driver had decided to take mind altering substances that had been donated to the band at our last gig. We are on this small road between rows of corn in Ohio or Indiana. We see up in the distance the flashing red and blue. We are convinced that we are running straight into a road block. The problem is we are in a van with a 12 foot trailer on a small country road. No chance of turning around. We ease it down the road only to find that the cop is parked at the dead end that is this road we are on. We get closer and find that the reason the cop is there is because there is a smoldering wreaked car that is burnt to a crisp. Still scared cause we are all tripping we have to turn around and still don't know where we are. The ages of the guys in the van is 20-23. Turns out this cop is 130 pounds soaking wet and barely 18. When the driver rolls the window down to ask directions the cop calls him sir and very politely explains how lost we are and gives us great direction to the camp ground. Very bizarre experience, although we were on the road for 6 weeks and had many many bizarre experiences.
 
Not a band story but I can't resist...

haha. Talk about tripping. When I was about 16, I borrowed my dads car. Me and my 3 friends. we went for a trip down the country back roads. We were smoking a bit, if you know what I mean, and low and behold there was a huge bolder blocking our way out.
So, we had to go through a field. We thought. So we did.

We hit a few rocks, slighty, transversing the 'Field Of Ultimate Bolders While Higher Than A Kite" and made our way onto a real paved roadway. At which point the engine promptly died.

So, being kids, we hitch hike 30 miles back into town and go to bed.

Dad woke me in the early morning screaming something along the lines of " WHERE THE poo poo IS MY CAR?"

So, I politely told him it was stuck on a road about 30 miles away.

Oh poo poo, he was out the door.
About 4 hours laters, he's back, with the car, and telling me never to ask to borrow the car again.

I never did. Except once more. But that's another story. lol.

Good times man. :beer:
 
Yeah, cool. I was hoping to keep this as personal experiences.

...

Another cheap one.


I was playing a bar once and the drummer asked me if I wanted to smoke a joint.
I had stopped all drugs many years ago, but he was a childhood friend, it was just a doob and it wasn't a critical gig, so I said sure.

Oh poo poo, big mistake. I can remember laughing a lot, not being able to improvise a poo pooing single note and looking at the poor people watching me. Man, not good.

Luckily that wore off by next set and I redeamed myself. I never did that again. That sucks man. Give me beer though, I'll play all night. Sort of almost. Depending. :beer:
 
Oh yeah, another small one .

I had got done a set in Kingston Ont, and a girl walked up to shake my hand. The stage was about 5 feet up from the floor. So I shake her hand and after I pull back I realize I have a hit of coke in my palm. I just smiled and gave it back to her, and the look on her face!
I said "Thanks, but I don't do that stuff."

Well, packing up at the end of the night , she was right there. Nah, not my kind of girl.
These broads, I don't know what they're thinking sometimes.

I've had girls come up to me and ask "Why aren't you drinking tonight?"
I'd say "I don't drink every day."

They didn't know we were playing 7 days a week.
Ya know, jeez, even I can't drink every day. I tried, but poo poo that. :beer:
 
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"Looking for Fun in Fredrick" ( PA ) ( mid '80s ... over night gig in a hotel )
After the above ... and later, in the middle of the night ...
our sound man was found standing in the corner p*s*ing in his cowboy boots mumbling to himself. He was sleep walking. The other guy in the room let him finish and go back to sleep, making sure to be awake when the sleep walker finally put on his boots in the morning.
 
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Was doing a show in a club when a dude thought it would be funny to douse me with his beer. I didn't know if the bottle would be next so I kicked the bottle out of his hand. He stood there until we finished the set so he could kick my ass. My drummer kept trying to calm everything down as we were packing up until he had finally had enough and jumped off the stage at the guy telling him he was going to "bite his f*cking ear off!"

Good times.

Another show, the owner refused to pay up at the end of the night because he "had seen a few folks leave during our set". He had a really nice Persian style rug in the lobby. It fit really nicely in the back of the van and graced my living room for years.
 
At the band house, in mid August, in the mid '70s, Larry ( Mad Dog ) S*&^%$ski ( name masked to protect ) pulls up into the drive way for a scheduled rehearsal, gets out of his car and proclaims (to us on the porch) "damn ... what's that smell?... do you smell that ... come here ... it's like it's been following me all the way from my house since I got in my car."

Of course, we've, been waiting for this, knowing that he'd been away for a few days, and it was hot as hell out for the past week, and that he'd not taken his car on his trip, and that he always left his amp in the trunk of his car.

So 2 of us walk down to the drive way. "Hey man ... how was your trip ... etc. etc ." trying to maintain composure, waiting for the moment of truth ... the peak of our anticipation ... the big pay off.
"Oh yea ... ( sniff sniff ) ... smells like something might have died around here. But let's get goin' ... we've got a lot of work to do.
"yea" ... Larry hands me his guitar case ... "I'll be right up" or something like that. He walks around to the back of his car, jiggling keys in hand ... I'm just about bursting ... he puts the keys in the lock, pops open the trunk and ... wahm ... like a punch in the face ...

"Woah ...... WTF ? ... Oh my God .... sh&T ... what the ... " ....
Larry ... reels and turns away from the open trunk ...

By this time we've gotten back into the house and are watching from the front door trying to hold it in.

He eventually walks into the house with his amp and says ... and with great dismay and wonder ...

"Who left the corn beef in the trunk."

To this day and near 35 yrs. after the deed ... all it takes is saying that one sentence ... to quite a few people, some of them not even present at the original event ... all it takes is that "who left the corn beef in the trunk" ...... bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ha haaa !!!!

I think I'm gonna give Larry a call right now .... and just say it one more time.
 
at a show in a small club in new paltz, ny our singer/guitar player, pete, thought it would be a good idea to take off his guitar, walk into the crowd during a song and smack a girl on the ass in time to the music. the girl's boyfriend, however, did not think it was such a good idea. he tackled pete to the ground and a fight ensued. we stopped playing. the room became silent except for the sounds of the struggle. eventually the bouncers pulled the guy off and threw him out. pete stood up, brushed himself off and, without missing a beat, counted us back in and the crowd went wild.
 
When we first started playing country /rock, switching from rock, we were playing up north, again.

We had a heavy rock Marshall guitar sound. We'll we were a rock band by nature, trying to learn how to play country, because that's where the bar gigs were if you wanted to play for a living.

So, on the first night in this bar, we had almost a heavy metal sound happening, but playing country. Someone hated it and threw a bottle through the bar window.

Next night we were fired. So we pack up after about a half hour of verbal fighting and off we were.

The roads were solid ice. It was a couple hundred miles from home and we were a little broke, bills wise, so we stopped at a little shi* hole bar on the way home and gave them the sad story asking for a gig.

The owner agreed to let us share the night with the other band, taking turns playing. So it was non stop music for that bar, that night. It was a little shi* hole but it was packed and just the greatest people you could meet.

I still don't know why the bar owner agreed to let us come in and play just out of the blue. But what a great guy and a good time we had.
 
Oh, I gotta share this one. Sorry, let me share. No one else listens.

It was my birthday, I don't know which one, mid 40's I guess, 46, 47 maybe. (edit: Mid 30's, sorry. 36,37. :) )
I was playing at the 'Duke of York' in Toronto. Nuff said.

The guitar players Fender amp blew and it was too late to get a fix. So he had to use mine.
Which meant I didn't have one so I had to go through the board.

Normally that's okay because I can get a feed through the monitors, only we were short on monitors and I didn't get one that night.

So, I played all night, on my birthday, broke, no money, no beer, and couldn't hear a single note I was playing. Nothing.

I couldn't play any solos because improvising solos requires being able to hear, for me anyways. So I just played what I already knew was right by experience.

An old guy gets up later in the night and sais to me "your playing good tonight."

No shi*. I think because I had to concentrate on exactly what I was playing since I couldn't hear anything that I was playing, that maybe it all seemed more tighter, I don't know.

Or maybe he was being sarcastic or maybe he knew I couldn't hear and was trying to say he understood, or I don't know. It was an odd thing for sure.

Worst! Birthday! Ever!

haha.

Good times though, now when I look back. :beer:
 
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Had a showcase at "The Chance" (http://www.thechancetheater.com/ ) and all went well.
As the crew broke down the stage gear, I was playing Galaga (best game EVER), the game was wedged inbetween the wall and the edge of the bar. So, there I was playing when I noticed there was a WASTED customer about three bar stools from where I was.
This guy did NOT want to leave the bar and when the bartender refused to serve him another drink, he smashed a bottle on the bar and slashed the bartender's throat in a split second. Blood shooting everywhere, the bartender grabbed the customer and pulled him half-way onto the bar and began beating the back of his head with a metal mixer cup.

...now remember, I'm trapped in a corner about three feet from all this action...

In another second, a few of the bouncers laid hands on this guys, who was still fighting.
Another minute and the police were there. This guy did not want to move and he just held on to the bar. The police tried everything, first talk, then trying to free his grip on the bar...then...out came the MagLight 5-cell flashlights!

This guy HAD to be on something WAY more then liquor. The police hit this guy all over is body, from his hands to his back. The white shirt he was wearing looked transparent and stuck to his body it was so soaked with blood....

...speaking of which...remember me? ... the one trapped in the corner getting splattered in blood with each hit of the officers flashlight to this guys head!

Well, they finally dragged the guy out of the place, face down UP the stairs...and he was STILL swearing at them.

Ahhhh yes...good times! :thumbsup:
 
I was doing another matinee once up north. On a break I was talking to a girl and mentioned that I thought she would look great in a raspberry hair color. Red-ish purple color, like that.


Into the first or second set of the night the bass player starts laughing his head off at me while were playing and when we got on break he sais something like "she's back. She dyed her hair".

I look over and jeeeez, she dyed her hair purple.
That and the fact that her ex old man was sitting at the bar not diggin much of this.

It ened up fine. I said I was just kidding. She went out later and was back before the night was over with her normal hair color.

Broads! Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. :beer:
 
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