Have you ever missed a gig?

[HolmeBass]

My whole band missed a gig, it was real bad. We had been hired to play this private high school graduation party, many months before graduation. We were young and thoroughly irresponsible, our manager being the youngest and least responsible of all of us.

Anyway he completely spaced the gig, made some deal where we went to Florida for spring break, stayed at a house on a lake, and got to stay for free b/c we were the "house band". Most everyone at the house resented us staying for free, as the scheme had been hatched by one kid who organized the house (his dad may even have owned it, but they still had to pay, but maybe not) and our manager during a furious partying session. The only silver lining was a number of the house guests also played music and they got to use our gear for some jam sessions, which turned them around to support us.

We rolled down in the drummer's Mustang 5.0 towing a small profile u-haul. We could fit our whole PA and gear in the u-haul. Of course we went much faster than the suggest max speed of 45 mph - but driving from Va to Fl at 45 mph was simply a non-starter. On the way back, we left on a Saturday - the day of the graduation gig - so we were never going to make it back. We were clueless and our manager never bothered to check his calendar, so even if we *had* made it back we would have missed that gig.

But while we were in Atlanta the left bearing on the u-haul trailer seized up, in an instant the whole wheel sheared off. We dragged that axle on I-85 at about 75 mph and the shower of sparks made a rooster tail 40' tall. Somehow our drummer manager to not jack knife nor roll the car or trailer and got us off the highway. We were done for the night. Also fortunately the drummer's family lived in Atlanta, so we had a free place to stay. The next day we got a new trailer at the u-haul place, lied through our teeth about speeding, and didn't have to pay for the old trailer.

But we completely missed the gig. None other than Tim Reynolds, who now plays with the Dave Matthews Band, opened that gig on acoustic guitar. Evidently he played a lot longer than scheduled, but we were complete no-shows. I am still embarrassed about it to this day. Sometimes I run into people who were in the graduation class, and they have not forgotten!

 

[rtslinger]

The one time I had a private party to do and the address they gave me was wrong it was a town I was never in before, so I tried to call and no one was answering the only phone number they gave which was a land line. After about 45 minutes I said screw it. and I went back home. The guitarist knew the people, so he got there and called me and I told him do it without me that I tried for 45 minutes to get some one on the phone # they had as a contact, because the address that I got from them was wrong. And I told him the address and he told me the right one. He offered to come pick me up and I said ok, because I am not driving all the way up there again. He did and I played the show. But I did turn around and go back home, so I figured it fit the situation.

 

[McG]

I've been fortunate to have never missed a gig.

The closest time was in the mid 70s. First there were issues getting organized and loading the van so we were an hour late heading out. Then as I was driving the equipment van, an old mail truck, we had a blowout on the freeway in a remote area about 30 minutes from the gig. Almost rolled it but somehow managed to stay upright. We unloaded all the gear to get to the spare tire compartment to find no spare.

The rest of the band was ahead of us in a car and didn't see what happened. After about 30 minutes of waiting for us to arrive they came looking for us (no cell phones then of course). They finally found us and took the blown tire searching for a gas station. About an hour later they returned with the repaired tire and we got back on the road.

Fortunately we were one of two bands and the other guys were there on time and kept playing and held the crowd. This was an outdoor gig for about a thousand people camped out at a race track during a grand prix weekend. We were well over four hours late and had to load in through hundreds of people crowded around the stage. A rough start but we made it and played the show.

The only other time was the next year at the exact same race track gig. This time I came down with strep throat the day before the show. 102 fever and felt like crap. No way was I going to cancel though. The guys gave me a pass on loading gear in the van and I slept in the car all the way there. Woke feeling better without a fever. By the time we played I was feeling pretty good.

 

[twinjet]

I was on a dark highway, with no buildings or signs for 40 miles each way. GPS led me to the side of the road with trees everywhere, but nothing for miles.

I eventually got direction from the drummer. The one lodge I was supposed to go to, I overshot by 10 miles. I called the guitarist who called me to sub, frantic. Told him where I was and that I couldn't find the venue. Then I went back those 10 miles and showed up to the gig five minutes to show time. Everyone was pretty chill about it. Gave me a little grief for it, but were not too worried. After all, our clientele were truckers and families traveling down the Alaska Highway.

 

[feterpatch]

Back in the 80's I played in a regionally popular AC/DC tribute band. We toured year round, but in this case it was a two-night hometown show and we were greatly looking forward to it.

So...on the day of the second show, two of our light techs and myself were invited by a friend to go salmon fishing off Vancouver Island. Also, as we are located relatively close to the US San Juan islands we thought it would be a great idea to cross over to the USA and get a few dozen American beer to bring back home (US beer being a novelty at the time).

It was March storm season, and being young, dumb and blindly determined we set off across the open water determined to return before the show as heroes with our boat load of beer. After a few hours we made it across, reported to US customs, took on copious amounts of beer and set off on our voyage home. Yarr!...so far, so good.

By this time it was late afternoon and the weather had begun to turn as we got into open water. The winds picked up, large black storm clouds darkened the sky and the swell was getting uncomfortably high for our 30' boat. We were pushing against the wind and by nightfall had barely progressed half way across the straight. At this point the waves weren't just coming over the bow but over the roof of the wheelhouse and the situation was deteriorating rapidly. And then it happened...the engine and battery compartments flooded and we lost all power. No engine, no lights and no power to the VHF radio to send out a distress call. Helpless. We were getting tossed around in the wheelhouse and I looked at the guys beside me. It was weird, they were white as ghosts and all had this look on their faces that said (to me anyway), "that's it, we're toast". I remember thinking how sad it was that it was pitch black, we're going down, and no one will know where we died. I know that sounds dramatic and morbid but I guess ya had to be there.

After about half an hour of getting thrown around and frantic bailing one of the guys spotted what appeared to be an unlit island out in the darkness which we were being blown toward. On one hand it was good to see land but the thought of breaking up on the rocks was a serious concern. As we got closer we could see it was indeed an island and we were moving into a small inlet. Still no signs of lights or houses but up ahead I could make out a dock sticking out at the end of the inlet. The wind and current were pushing us fast down the inlet and wanting to avoid hitting the rocks at the end, I grabbed the bow rope and leaped from the bow to the dock. Well, the dock was frosty and as the boat blew past I hung on to the rope and slid across the dock and jammed my legs into one of those tie-up thingies and held on as hard as I could. Managed to eventually pull the boat against the dock and tie off. Much relief (and a lot of pain in my arms and legs).

Being on a dock we knew there must be some kind of cabin, house or hopefully people around so we walked up a path to a trailer. There was no one there but there was a covered hot tub which was heated and we all stuck our now freezing hands under the cover into the hot water. We decided a couple of us would go back to the dock and start a fire and myself and the other guy headed off in search of someone who would hopefully have a phone (pre-cell days) and let us call the band and let them know they wouldn't have a bass player of follow spots that night. Never did find anyone but eventually I came to a crossroads and lo and behold, there's a pay phone booth (***?). I dialed the operator and when she answered "ATT, how can I help you?", I realized we were still in the US. Anyhoo, managed to call my girlfriend, told her what happened and told her to let the band know what was going on.

When I got back to the dock the boys had a good fire going and we settled in for the night. We were hungry but all we could find on the boat was some popcorn kernels and a can of green beans. We heated the beans on the fire and cooked the popcorn in a bailing can that had also held diesel. Needless to say, I hope it's the first and only time I ever eat diesel flavoured popcorn.

We spent the night around the fire drinking beer and wondering how the show was going and what they did to pull it off. After a freezing night, the next morning was bright and sunny and one of the more mechanically inclined guys dried out the engine components and we managed to start the boat and headed back to Vancouver Island in calm seas. Asked my bandmates how the show went. They said it was a packed house, our rhythm guitar player played bass, a couple of friends ran the follow spots and they had a great night. They told the crowd what had happened and even played the Gilligan's Island theme.

That was 30 years ago and to this day I hate boating and will never go on a cruise ship.

 

[elgecko]

Back in the 80's I played in a regionally popular AC/DC tribute band. We toured year round, but in this case it was a two-night hometown show and we were greatly looking forward to it.

So...on the day of the second show, two of our light techs and myself were invited by a friend to go salmon fishing off Vancouver Island. Also, as we are located relatively close to the US San Juan islands we thought it would be a great idea to cross over to the USA and get a few dozen American beer to bring back home (US beer being a novelty at the time).

It was March storm season, and being young, dumb and blindly determined we set off across the open water determined to return before the show as heroes with our boat load of beer. After a few hours we made it across, reported to US customs, took on copious amounts of beer and set off on our voyage home. Yarr!...so far, so good.

By this time it was late afternoon and the weather had begun to turn as we got into open water. The winds picked up, large black storm clouds darkened the sky and the swell was getting uncomfortably high for our 30' boat. We were pushing against the wind and by nightfall had barely progressed half way across the straight. At this point the waves weren't just coming over the bow but over the roof of the wheelhouse and the situation was deteriorating rapidly. And then it happened...the engine and battery compartments flooded and we lost all power. No engine, no lights and no power to the VHF radio to send out a distress call. Helpless. We were getting tossed around in the wheelhouse and I looked at the guys beside me. It was weird, they were white as ghosts and all had this look on their faces that said (to me anyway), "that's it, we're toast". I remember thinking how sad it was that it was pitch black, we're going down, and no one will know where we died. I know that sounds dramatic and morbid but I guess ya had to be there.

After about half an hour of getting thrown around and frantic bailing one of the guys spotted what appeared to be an unlit island out in the darkness which we were being blown toward. On one hand it was good to see land but the thought of breaking up on the rocks was a serious concern. As we got closer we could see it was indeed an island and we were moving into a small inlet. Still no signs of lights or houses but up ahead I could make out a dock sticking out at the end of the inlet. The wind and current were pushing us fast down the inlet and wanting to avoid hitting the rocks at the end, I grabbed the bow rope and leaped from the bow to the dock. Well, the dock was frosty and as the boat blew past I hung on to the rope and slid across the dock and jammed my legs into one of those tie-up thingies and held on as hard as I could. Managed to eventually pull the boat against the dock and tie off. Much relief (and a lot of pain in my arms and legs).

Being on a dock we knew there must be some kind of cabin, house or hopefully people around so we walked up a path to a trailer. There was no one there but there was a covered hot tub which was heated and we all stuck our now freezing hands under the cover into the hot water. We decided a couple of us would go back to the dock and start a fire and myself and the other guy headed off in search of someone who would hopefully have a phone (pre-cell days) and let us call the band and let them know they wouldn't have a bass player of follow spots that night. Never did find anyone but eventually I came to a crossroads and lo and behold, there's a pay phone booth (***?). I dialed the operator and when she answered "ATT, how can I help you?", I realized we were still in the US. Anyhoo, managed to call my girlfriend, told her what happened and told her to let the band know what was going on. Apparently Search and Rescue had been notified and the search had been postponed due to weather conditions.

When I got back to the dock the boys had a good fire going and we settled in for the night. We were hungry but all we could find on the boat was some popcorn kernels and a can of green beans. We heated the beans on the fire and cooked the popcorn in a bailing can that had also held diesel. Needless to say, I hope it's the first and only time I ever eat diesel flavoured popcorn.

We spent the night around the fire drinking beer and wondering how the show was going and what they did to pull it off. After a freezing night, the next morning was bright and sunny and one of the more mechanically inclined guys dried out the engine components and we managed to start the boat and headed back to Vancouver Island in calm seas. Asked my bandmates how the show went. They said it was a packed house, our rhythm guitar player played bass, a couple of friends ran the follow spots and they had a great night. They told the crowd what had happened and even encored with a heavy version of the Gilligan's Island theme.

That was 30 years ago and to this day I hate boating and will never go on a cruise ship.

People tend to overuse the word "epic" these days but that tale is definitely worthy! Missing a gig is probably the last thing on your when you think you're going to meet your maker.

 

[BoogieZK]

I missed sound check but not the gig. My stupid drummer forgot his kick pedals and we had to drive back to get them. My guitarist sound checked my bass for me. Coincidentally that was the absolute worst my tone has ever sounded.

This made me laugh so hard. Just a coincidence


I was in a pop rock band and the keyboard booked 2 shows on 1 week during summers holidays. We packed the whole gear in my car, drove to the keyboardist second house to rehearse during the week.
First show went as expected, little town fest, no one interested, 2 kids dancing, end of the show.

Gear back the house, rehearse a last time before weekend show.

I asked: What do we need for the last show? Do we eat there? How much we will be pay?
Keyboardist: Yeah don't sweat, we take the whole gear, we will SURELY have something to eat..... blablabla.
(Important for later)

Gear packed in the car in the morning, drove off to show.
Small town but a loooot of people, 2 or 3 stages, so we drove until we found the show manager.

And EVERY ONE was looking at us! But like a surprise you know!

Show manager came to us like: -Who are you?
-We are XXXX, we play the main stage tonight, right?
- humm sorry but we don't know your band, no one talked to me about your show....


Long story short: The keyboardist (Who was a "Trusting until betrayed" guy) never confirmed the show, never took time ask if we were booked....

We drove back to the house were i throwed all the gear outside my van, wich i payed for including gas and roads fees.
Took my gear and quit the band shortly after this story.

That's how you can miss a show because someone booked your band without contracts, only on "parole"....

 

[bassbully]

I missed one gig. It was in the fall and I was raking my yard, trying to beat the weather and get the leaves to the curb for the city to pickup.
Only having one pickup days away I took advantage of the dry weather but over did it. My right wrist was shot and my Carpal tunnel kicked in bad. No ice or treatments worked. I could not even make a fist for a week so I had to cancel the gig. The band was on the down slide anyhow and never gigged again.

 

[busmandan]

I missed part of one once. I was subbing for a band, but was in L.A. working my day job the week of the gig. I was set to fly back to DFW the morning of the gig, but my flight was delayed almost three hours leaving L.A. Wouldn't have been an issue, except when I got to my car back at DFW I found I had a flat tire. Changed it in about fifteen minutes, dashed home to get my gear, and got to the gig as the band was taking their first break. The singer had played bass for the first set.

 

[Barbaric.Eric]

I'm not talking about situations like when you had to go to your cousin's wedding or your wife was due to give birth so you called a sub beforehand. I'm talking about where you had every intention of going to the gig. You packed your car and everything but for whatever reason, you never made it. Maybe your car broke down or you got in a car accident. Maybe you got hopelessly lost. Perhaps a bridge you had to cross got washed out. Maybe you had an appendicitis attack. Maybe you were picked up on a warrant.

The closest I got was when I was ridiculously late (1 hour past downbeat) to a wedding gig. Brush fires had closed two out of the three freeways I needed to get out of Orange County and although I left ridiculously early, Murphy was working overtime. The saving grace was that about half of the guests were equally late. It was a nightmare all around! ...but I made it.

Once and only once! I broke both sides of my ankle once in a bmx crash. I was a week in the hospital getting screws and pins put in place so I missed a gig (a good paying gig too!). A week after getting out of the hospital we played a set where I had to chill in a grimey old lawn chair on stage, off my face on pain killers, with my leg propped up on a cooler. I don't remember how I got there or back :S

 

[BrewsterRooster]

Just one. It was a two-night thing that was a university performance student's senior project, basically a one-hour piece of musical theater highlights compiled from several popular shows. It was a fun thing to play - lots of jazzy stuff and plenty of improv on bass, not to mention the rest of the pit was filled with great players. But the day of the first show, I came down with a flu that was beyond anything I've ever had. I was yakking for hours and then wound up in a pile on the bathroom floor, too weak to even drag myself back to bed. This was before cell phones. I literally crawled out of the head and over to the wall with the phone, called the director, and said there was just no way I could do it. I hung up, and then went to sleep on the floor under the phone.

I did go the next night, despite the fact that I looked and felt like hammered poo. I made it all the way through the performance, but it was punishing.

 

[Mantis Tobaggan]

No. I set up a gig, sold all the tickets, then had to travel for work but i was able to get a sub.

 

[Biggbass]

in 40+ years of gigging I've only missed one...and that one I, along with the band, actually showed up early for so we could set up and meet our stage time on time. We were booked at a popular bar on Exchange Street in Fort Worth about 8 years ago. The place was packed and the dance floor was jammed. The opening band was just finishing their set and we were looking forward to capping the night with some good music and a good crowd.

But the band on stage would not stop playing and get off the stage. They were high on the crowd. The drummer kept looking back at us saying, "one more song! I promise"...then he'd kick off another tune. On and on it went...so after close to an hour of this, and numerous polite attempts to get these stage hogs to stop playing, even trying to get the manager to help the situation with no success, I finally told the drummer they could just keep playing, and we rolled our gear out the door and went home. I think I was pissed off for at least two days.

 

[Skokiaan]

My entire band missed a gig once. We had a one hour slot in a NYC club, but got caught for over two hours in traffic at the Holland Tunnel. We called the club to keep them updated on our progress, but we arrived 15 minutes after we were scheduled to start. We lost our slot.

I've been late only once. I had selected an address on Richmond Road in Staten Island in my GPS instead of Richmond Avenue (Staten Island is essentially a foreign country to me, so I didn't know the difference). I arrived during the first set (they started without me) and carried my gear through a packed house to a round of applause.

 

[Hahaha]

The only gig I remember missing was a planned miss. We were booked in Phoenix at a huge club on Indian School Road that had bands Tuesday through Sunday. Our next gig was a Monday through Saturday gig in Denver. Our agent knew we couldn't make it so he "jammed the gig", which meant he booked it anyway and instructed us to tell them we had car trouble getting there, thereby missing the first Monday night. I got there first at around 10:00 PM on Monday and used the car trouble excuse. Our keyboard player showed up last and when he told the desk clerk about his car trouble the clerk responded with "So all five of your cars broke down on the way here?"

Another time I was drinking coffee and relaxing on Sunday morning when my neighbor knocked on my door at 11:30 AM and informed me that "the gig" had been moved up from 1:00 PM to noon.
"What gig?"
"Didn't they tell you? You're playing at the street fair downtown today."
"No. Nobody told me."

I had played the night before (different band) and had just rolled out of bed less than half an hour before, so I hadn't shaved, my hair looked like it was transmitting to Mars, and my gear wasn't loaded. I made it to the gig just in time to start at noon. If they hadn't switch the start time, my neighbor (violinist's father) wouldn't have informed me of the gig, and I would have missed it.

 

[alembicguy]

Yes. Car wreck that injured me and took the life of my closest friend and drummer about 20 years ago.