This last Monday was definitely one of the more amusing jam nights I have ever been to.

A local bar, "Lillian's Music Store," features a lot of local talent nightly, but Mondays are jam night. I am pretty regular there as are quite a few other players.

The house band sets up one old bass amp, a drum kit, and two older Peavey 1x12 combo amps. Add two mics and a basic Peavey band-in-a-box on a tiny stage, some mains and wedges, and, presto, we have the magic ambiance of jam night.

So, last Monday, we have the usual crowd enjoying the house band's warmup set. Then an acoustic act. Then me, the house guitar player, and some kid ripping up some blues and Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

As I was getting off stage, some dude comes in guitar in hand and his friend is pushing a freaking 4x12 half-stack behind him. Mind you, this stage is about 10 by 15 feet and the whole place maybe can pack in 100 people. The guy running jam night was concerned, but the guy reassured him that he did mostly "Southern style rock with some blues influence" and would keep his amp down.

Ok, so half-stack boy, some drummer, and a bass player get on stage and do the usual bang, thump, tune stuff at reasonable volume.

The half-stack boy grabs the mic and, well, does the usual 'check, check thing....' only this didn't sound right. Nope, apparently the demons inhabiting his body were going to do the singing tonight as he growled 'CHECKCHECKONE23!!BLARGH!!!' into the mic.

I grabbed my bass and headed for the door, so did a few regulars. half-stack boy grabs the gain on his amp and cranks it past 11 to the 'Tortured Souls' setting.

Then, he started playing.

Half-stack boy went into full-on, demon-possessed speed metal, ripping out 4027 notes/min while the drummer hit straight 16th notes on the kick drum. During solos, his head would spin around the whole way. If there had been bats there, I am quite sure he would have bitten the heads off a few.

The first four rows didn't fare well. The lucky ones died instantly, some, the poor souls, made it through the first verse. The half stack was apparently powered by the nuke core from an old Russian sub and had the sonic delicacy of a well-placed groin kick.

The bass player was more subdued, the house bass rig lacking the nuke option, but peppered the remaining survivors with wave after wave of triplets, hammer-ons, and slapping until car alarms were going off outside and a few patrons found the 'brown note.'

The lyrics were loud and totally incomprehensible, except for brief interludes when the demons torturing the guitar player's soul would switch off vocal duty.

Lyrics were kind of like.....

"RAGARAGARAGARA BLAAAAAA!!!!! DEAD KITTENS!!!!!! RAGAGAGAGAA BLARGH!!!!! CANT FIND THEIR MITTENS!!!! RARRRRRRR!!!!!!!"

Or, the tender strains of.....

"SHITMAGGOTS!!!!!!!!!! RARGGGGGH!!!! BLEEDING!!!!!!!"

Even from outside, it was painful and I decided to hit the road.

Ok, all BS aside, by the end of the first song, all but about 5 people were left in the bar. I was able to escape and drive home.

I heard later some stayed for the whole set. The expect most of them to recover in a few weeks.

This story may contain up to 50% pure unrefined BS, but is based on a true story.


Now, let's hear yours!

haha, i think i've seen this guitar player, haha that is a great story

This last Monday was definitely one of the more amusing jam nights I have ever been to.

A local bar, "Lillian's Music Store," features a lot of local talent nightly, but Mondays are jam night. I am pretty regular there as are quite a few other players.

The house band sets up one old bass amp, a drum kit, and two older Peavey 1x12 combo amps. Add two mics and a basic Peavey band-in-a-box on a tiny stage, some mains and wedges, and, presto, we have the magic ambiance of jam night.

So, last Monday, we have the usual crowd enjoying the house band's warmup set. Then an acoustic act. Then me, the house guitar player, and some kid ripping up some blues and Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

As I was getting off stage, some dude comes in guitar in hand and his friend is pushing a freaking 4x12 half-stack behind him. Mind you, this stage is about 10 by 15 feet and the whole place maybe can pack in 100 people. The guy running jam night was concerned, but the guy reassured him that he did mostly "Southern style rock with some blues influence" and would keep his amp down.

Ok, so half-stack boy, some drummer, and a bass player get on stage and do the usual bang, thump, tune stuff at reasonable volume.

The half-stack boy grabs the mic and, well, does the usual 'check, check thing....' only this didn't sound right. Nope, apparently the demons inhabiting his body were going to do the singing tonight as he growled 'CHECKCHECKONE23!!BLARGH!!!' into the mic.

I grabbed my bass and headed for the door, so did a few regulars. half-stack boy grabs the gain on his amp and cranks it past 11 to the 'Tortured Souls' setting.

Then, he started playing.

Half-stack boy went into full-on, demon-possessed speed metal, ripping out 4027 notes/min while the drummer hit straight 16th notes on the kick drum. During solos, his head would spin around the whole way. If there had been bats there, I am quite sure he would have bitten the heads off a few.

The first four rows didn't fare well. The lucky ones died instantly, some, the poor souls, made it through the first verse. The half stack was apparently powered by the nuke core from an old Russian sub and had the sonic delicacy of a well-placed groin kick.

The bass player was more subdued, the house bass rig lacking the nuke option, but peppered the remaining survivors with wave after wave of triplets, hammer-ons, and slapping until car alarms were going off outside and a few patrons found the 'brown note.'

The lyrics were loud and totally incomprehensible, except for brief interludes when the demons torturing the guitar player's soul would switch off vocal duty.

Lyrics were kind of like.....

"RAGARAGARAGARA BLAAAAAA!!!!! DEAD KITTENS!!!!!! RAGAGAGAGAA BLARGH!!!!! CANT FIND THEIR MITTENS!!!! RARRRRRRR!!!!!!!"

Or, the tender strains of.....

"SHITMAGGOTS!!!!!!!!!! RARGGGGGH!!!! BLEEDING!!!!!!!"

Even from outside, it was painful and I decided to hit the road.

Ok, all BS aside, by the end of the first song, all but about 5 people were left in the bar. I was able to escape and drive home.

I heard later some stayed for the whole set. The expect most of them to recover in a few weeks.

This story may contain up to 50% pure unrefined BS, but is based on a true story.


Now, let's hear yours!

LMAO. This is the funniest thing I have read/heard/seen in a month.

Thanks for making my day.

I have a story at the other end of the spectrum. Some kids show up at a blues jam, infested mostly with us geezers. The guitarist gets up with a half-stack Peavey 5150 and Wolfgang guitar. The comments and mumbling started.

This kid pulls out a slide and starts into "One Way Out" by The Allmans. He was not only at the perfect volume, but did all the little things like Duane Allman used to. Everyone pretty much shut up after that.


And then, there was this guy that showed up at jams with a chain for a guitar strap...

great story! haha!

The first four rows didn't fare well.
The lucky ones died instantly, some, the poor souls, made it through the first verse.

I heard later some stayed for the whole set.
They expect most of them to recover in a few weeks.

This story may contain up to 50% pure unrefined BS, but is based on a true story.

.. ha !!
i actually LOL'd at that one ... :D
funny stuff .

Great Story!
I laughed till I had tears in my eyes, then I sent it to my brother, he's still laughing!

I once saw a smiley that would ROFL and slap the floor with it, as I can't have that here...

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

Dude, that made me laugh

Glad you folks enjoyed it. Keep it up, though, and I will have to tell some more jam night stories. We have some colorful regulars like 'Captain Cowbell' who is really annoying and 'Looks at himself in the mirror the whole set' a local 12yo guitar prodigy.

Fun stuff, especially when you believe as Twain said, "Exaggeration is truth with an ego."

Great story Cyoung !
I have a few fun jam session stories. I play in the house band at a local jazz venue , we are usually about 30 people , mostly pros and students. There is this singer that been there on every jam for the past two years , i think she knows 2 , maybe 3 songs (all of me , manha de carenval). She always goes up , presenting her name like 50 times , then sings , then presents her name 50 more times. This last jam session , she brought her friend , who also brought a camera. So in the middle of the house bands own first set , she jumps up , wispers to me who is the bandleader , in the middle of our song (i think it was stella) " im gonna sing now so i can get photographed" , she takes the mic and start posing , and her camera equiped friend takes photos. Then she stays on stage (still our own introduction set) and sings her 3 songs (jam rule is one song only, then rotation). then shw goes down frome stage , and walk out from the club.

Oh my i just love jam sessions . ..

great stories!

Hey, I think I know those guys! They showed up at a lakeside Halloween jam one night. The survivors fled the scene as fast as they could, considering the withering aural assault.

Cherie :D

This last Monday was definitely one of the more amusing jam nights I have ever been to.

A local bar, "Lillian's Music Store," features a lot of local talent nightly, but Mondays are jam night. I am pretty regular there as are quite a few other players.

The house band sets up one old bass amp, a drum kit, and two older Peavey 1x12 combo amps. Add two mics and a basic Peavey band-in-a-box on a tiny stage, some mains and wedges, and, presto, we have the magic ambiance of jam night.

So, last Monday, we have the usual crowd enjoying the house band's warmup set. Then an acoustic act. Then me, the house guitar player, and some kid ripping up some blues and Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

As I was getting off stage, some dude comes in guitar in hand and his friend is pushing a freaking 4x12 half-stack behind him. Mind you, this stage is about 10 by 15 feet and the whole place maybe can pack in 100 people. The guy running jam night was concerned, but the guy reassured him that he did mostly "Southern style rock with some blues influence" and would keep his amp down.

Ok, so half-stack boy, some drummer, and a bass player get on stage and do the usual bang, thump, tune stuff at reasonable volume.

The half-stack boy grabs the mic and, well, does the usual 'check, check thing....' only this didn't sound right. Nope, apparently the demons inhabiting his body were going to do the singing tonight as he growled 'CHECKCHECKONE23!!BLARGH!!!' into the mic.

I grabbed my bass and headed for the door, so did a few regulars. half-stack boy grabs the gain on his amp and cranks it past 11 to the 'Tortured Souls' setting.

Then, he started playing.

Half-stack boy went into full-on, demon-possessed speed metal, ripping out 4027 notes/min while the drummer hit straight 16th notes on the kick drum. During solos, his head would spin around the whole way. If there had been bats there, I am quite sure he would have bitten the heads off a few.

The first four rows didn't fare well. The lucky ones died instantly, some, the poor souls, made it through the first verse. The half stack was apparently powered by the nuke core from an old Russian sub and had the sonic delicacy of a well-placed groin kick.

The bass player was more subdued, the house bass rig lacking the nuke option, but peppered the remaining survivors with wave after wave of triplets, hammer-ons, and slapping until car alarms were going off outside and a few patrons found the 'brown note.'

The lyrics were loud and totally incomprehensible, except for brief interludes when the demons torturing the guitar player's soul would switch off vocal duty.

Lyrics were kind of like.....

"RAGARAGARAGARA BLAAAAAA!!!!! DEAD KITTENS!!!!!! RAGAGAGAGAA BLARGH!!!!! CANT FIND THEIR MITTENS!!!! RARRRRRRR!!!!!!!"

Or, the tender strains of.....

"SHITMAGGOTS!!!!!!!!!! RARGGGGGH!!!! BLEEDING!!!!!!!"

Even from outside, it was painful and I decided to hit the road.

Ok, all BS aside, by the end of the first song, all but about 5 people were left in the bar. I was able to escape and drive home.

I heard later some stayed for the whole set. The expect most of them to recover in a few weeks.

This story may contain up to 50% pure unrefined BS, but is based on a true story.


Now, let's hear yours!

So...you've never heard metal before?

haha, i think i've seen this guitar player, haha that is a great story
Excellant narrative.. Mark Twain would have certainly been proud of your hilarious visualizations.. I can see why now that the Senate is preparing new legislation for a vote in 2008 that will outlaw guitar half stacks in most of the Lower 48 States!! :D

So...you've never heard metal before?

Heard plenty. Really enjoyed Rob Zombie and Mudvayne last year.

This bunch sounded a bit like someone mic'ed the combination of some marbles, a badger, and a pair old boots tossed into a cement mixer.

That is awesome.

hahahahaha.....thanks for sharin

Now that was funny. It even made ME laugh.

Heard plenty. Really enjoyed Rob Zombie and Mudvayne last year.

This bunch sounded a bit like someone mic'ed the combination of some marbles, a badger, and a pair old boots tossed into a cement mixer.

LMAO! I probably knew some of those guys. I was really into the metal scene in Gainesville when I was there 95-99...and some of those guys are still playing.

Half stack boy and his f*** buddies might have found a boot in their a**es trying that crap around here.

The rule around here is "one song". And that rule is enforced. Period.

If they like you, you can stay for 2 or 3. If they REALLY like you, you might be up there a while.

Haha that was an awesome story telling,thanks for the laughter.:)

Hi

Two jam session stories

The first happened back in the 80's. Boston had a good blues scene back then and the best jam of the week was Sunday afternoons at the 1369 club. As is the case with jam sessions you get all types, most jockeying for position. This one singer came in one week with his wife and baby and proceeds to sit at the jam session's leader, Silas' table up front. The jam goes on. I'm up with a bunch of guys on stage. It's time to feed the baby so she lifts up her blouse and flops her breasts on the table. Apparently, the kid had been eating well as her breasts reminded me of toothpaste tubes with all the toothpaste squeezes out. And she had a sly smile that made you think she was was up to something other then feeding the baby.

The second happened a couple years ago. I had a short lived gig in a house band for a jam. A very drunk chick wanted to sing Bobby Mc Ghee, and she was going to channel Janice Joplin. After listening to her for a half hour or so the band leader lets her get up, Needless to say Janice was not channeled, she could not remember the words and we had to bail her out. If I never work another house band for a jam it won't bother me in the least.