Road stories

[Deleted member 365158]

Player or tech, share something that happened on the road that wasn’t expected or is just off the wall.
Most of mine are as a tech but I’ll start.

i was on tour as a lighting guy with The Black Crows in the late 90’s.
We were supposed to play some crap hole in the Carolinas. Something happened between the band, the the management, the promoter and the venue and we ended up not loading in or maybe partly loading in but we packed everything up, loaded the buildings ductwork with the greenroom and catering food…. Whole chickens, flat meat and sweaty cheese(along with the mayo and other condiments that go with a deli tray). And whatever else we could find that would rot and stink in a hot summer day…dairy products for sure.
We bailed and went to another crap hole somewhere else.
Im not proud of what we did but at the same time, the youthful rebellious me really enjoyed it. Rock and Roll Baby!!!
I totally did not expect that day to go like that.

 

[bassbrad]

I'm currently working on a book of my and others stories from the road. I wore many hats; bass player, monitor tech, guitar tech, driver and security. I will share a wildflower story as a teaser.
I was on a van tour with a band made up of Native Texans, a couple of New Yorkers and Philadelphians. We were stranded in Ohio for a few days and it was dreary. I called home with my Dad raving about how great the Bluebonnets were that year. I started to lament to my fellow Texans about missing the wild flowers and eventually that was all we could talk about. Meanwhile the Yankees having no idea complained about how ridiculous it was to be lamenting missing the blooming of weeds. I figured out the time line and we had just enough time to drive back to Texas, spend a few hours, drive back and make it back in time for the next gig. We decided to take the trip and the non-Texans came along to give us a hard time, as bandmates will.
We found an amazing field south of Dallas in Waxahachie and had a picnic just soaking up the sunshine and bliss from the Bluebonnets and assorted wild flowers.
All the way back the Yankees were raving about the wildflowers and thanking the rest of us for taking them along.
30 plus years later I still get calls from my bandmates inquiring about the Bluebonnets and threatening to come and visit, which I would welcome.

 

[Oddly]

I've got nothing...(statutes of limitations may still apply, and a gentleman never tells, anyway)
However, @bassbrad , I'll be looking forward to that book!

 

[Killing Floor]

I’m sure I’ve shared this before. On a very budget-friendly prep tour we had a few gigs in NY, Boston, and back to NYC in my middle 20s. We vanned from Atlanta, packed from a gig at the Clermont Lounge (look it up) and drove all night and half the day straight to a headliner at CBGB. Thinking we’re pretty cool at this point, good crowd and fun bucket list gig.
We were pretty young in this band’s trajectory so money was tight. We stayed at the Seafarers which is a Lutheran hostel for merchant mariners in port. At least it was back then. Winter time and that morning we woke up totally snowed in so the jaunt to Boston was postponed. The weather kept us in this totally sketchy dorm style hotel for a couple extra nights.
In the evening we wandered down to the basement lounge, the only room with a TV in the hostel. We were picking acoustic guitars and mostly just jamming classic tunes. One by one about 2 dozen foreign sailors wandered in and we at first assumed they’d want us to shut up so they could watch TV.
But to our delight a couple of them started singing! Before long it was us, 4 scraggly southern boys, and 20-ish mostly Scandinavian and Russian sailors. They weren’t speaking English but they darn sure seemed to know every Stones song I knew. Picture leather jackets and below shoulder hair and boots or Chucks with southern accents singing “Sympathy… or Dead Flowers or Satisfaction” along with a bunch of probably drunk seamen in animal print sweats in a dark basement. Booze bottles passing around. Hands down one of the best times I have ever had playing guitar. So much fun and they were so enthusiastic and welcoming and maybe they thought we were “somebody” but who knows. Totally random events that turned out wonderfully. I’ve played on some big boards and had some fun experiences but nothing like that ever since.


And if you’re wondering, yes, they knew every American cuss word too.

 

[Michedelic]

Besides a bouncer getting shot point blank by an ejected patron in-between my load out trips after a gig?
I used to do sound for/roadie for/was a auxiliary member of a band that was a cross between Canned Heat and Motorhead, in a punk rock context, with a bit of Residents/Beefheart weirdness thrown in. I would do dub style delays in the mix on some songs, and radically alter the singer/harmonica guy’s voice on others. An almost-made-it band, we went to SXSW, and then to New Music Seminar in NYC, but they played regionally mostly.
Late 80’s, they did a gig opening for the Bad Brains at a concrete building in a cornfield outside of a Kansas college town. Wait…it gets weirder.
The kid who put on the show was a neophyte, and didn’t fully understand that the band’s guarantee was to be fully in place ahead of time; he was hoping to make that from advance ticket sales and walk-ups. The Brains got wind of that, and considered not doing the show. News of that got to the packed house, a very aggro crowd that looked like they’d tear the place down if the band wouldn’t go on. My boys went ahead and did their set, with the audience very revved up. I watched this build up from the mixing board, but a deal was struck, and HR and crew went on. By then I had been on stage, loading out, and I watched BB totally chill out the crowd, opening in their reggae persona; you could just see the tension melt away in a wave. After a couple of tunes in that style, they launched into the hardcore, but it was a happy mosh pit.
This is about that joint…

That’s the “kid”, at 2:11. Oh, and what happened in those cornfields stayed in those cornfields. Just ask my ex-girlfriend.

 

[Yools]

I know I've told this one before, but it's the only really noteworthy road story that I can think of:

Back around '97 my band was opening for Obituary (death metal band, for those of you who aren't familiar) at a club in Houston. After our set we were hanging out by our van drinking beer while Obituary was on stage playing their set. Suddenly, in the middle of a song, the side doors of the club burst open and the bass player (Frank Watkins, RIP), still playing the song through a wireless, comes running out with a roadie right behind him. He turned around and faced the wall (still playing the song), and suddenly hands the bass back to the roadie (mind you, he still has the strap on, so the roadie has to kinda reach around in front of him in a really awkward way to grab it). The roadie proceeds to start pounding on the strings like crazy to keep the song going, then, while the roadie is playing, Frank whips it out and takes a piss on the side of the building! He finishes up, shakes and puts it away, then grabs the bass, jumps back into playing the song without skipping a beat, and they both run back into the club. Needless to say, he got a standing ovation from all of us. Quite possibly the most entertaining part of the night.

-Y

 

[Yools]

I'm currently working on a book of my and others stories from the road. I wore many hats; bass player, monitor tech, guitar tech, driver and security. I will share a wildflower story as a teaser.
I was on a van tour with a band made up of Native Texans, a couple of New Yorkers and Philadelphians. We were stranded in Ohio for a few days and it was dreary. I called home with my Dad raving about how great the Bluebonnets were that year. I started to lament to my fellow Texans about missing the wild flowers and eventually that was all we could talk about. Meanwhile the Yankees having no idea complained about how ridiculous it was to be lamenting missing the blooming of weeds. I figured out the time line and we had just enough time to drive back to Texas, spend a few hours, drive back and make it back in time for the next gig. We decided to take the trip and the non-Texans came along to give us a hard time, as bandmates will.
We found an amazing field south of Dallas in Waxahachie and had a picnic just soaking up the sunshine and bliss from the Bluebonnets and assorted wild flowers.
All the way back the Yankees were raving about the wildflowers and thanking the rest of us for taking them along.
30 plus years later I still get calls from my bandmates inquiring about the Bluebonnets and threatening to come and visit, which I would welcome.

I lived in Central TX for 30 years and didn't realize how much I took the wildflowers for granted until I moved to the other side of the world. As a native son of eastern PA, I can understand how those Yankee mooks could be moved by a field of wildflowers in spring.

-Y

 

[micguy]

I know I've told this one before, but it's the only really noteworthy road story that I can think of:

Back around '97 my band was opening for Obituary (death metal band, for those of you who aren't familiar) at a club in Houston. After our set we were hanging out by our van drinking beer while Obituary was on stage playing their set. Suddenly, in the middle of a song, the side doors of the club burst open and the bass player (Frank Watkins, RIP), still playing the song through a wireless, comes running out with a roadie right behind him. He turned around and faced the wall (still playing the song), and suddenly hands the bass back to the roadie (mind you, he still has the strap on, so the roadie has to kinda reach around in front of him in a really awkward way to grab it). The roadie proceeds to start pounding on the strings like crazy to keep the song going, then, while the roadie is playing, Frank whips it out and takes a piss on the side of the building! He finishes up, shakes and puts it away, then grabs the bass, jumps back into playing the song without skipping a beat, and they both run back into the club. Needless to say, he got a standing ovation from all of us. Quite possibly the most entertaining part of the night.

-Y

We had a singer that over served herself, managed to hold it together until the last song of the night, then ran outside and vomited in the dumpster out back. Yeah..."good times".....

 

[J Wilson]

So we're on the bus in the mountains 'round the Pennsylvania Amish country.

The artist's pet (he called him his Personal Assistant. . . .) decided HE should be driving the bus (he'd go to any length to suck up to the guy) and he found a 'short cut' through the mountains that turned out to be the 1st cousin of The Tail of the Dragon, just a roller coaster of a two lane road.

He thought air brakes worked the same as hydraulic brakes, so as this road starts to get pucker-up scary, I hear this hiss, hiss, hiss, as he's pumping the brakes. The air pressure's down to 5psi and now we're in a runaway. No brakes till the pressure rebuilds.

We go round the next turn almost up on two wheels when I see a fork in the road and one leg is uphill. I managed to grab the wheel, we go up, it's slowing way down when we crest the hill on a flat straight about a half mile long.

Let it roll out, and when it almost stopped, I pushed the parking brake. Whew . . . .

He never drove again.

 

[Rojd]

I know I've told this one before, but it's the only really noteworthy road story that I can think of:

Back around '97 my band was opening for Obituary (death metal band, for those of you who aren't familiar) at a club in Houston. After our set we were hanging out by our van drinking beer while Obituary was on stage playing their set. Suddenly, in the middle of a song, the side doors of the club burst open and the bass player (Frank Watkins, RIP), still playing the song through a wireless, comes running out with a roadie right behind him. He turned around and faced the wall (still playing the song), and suddenly hands the bass back to the roadie (mind you, he still has the strap on, so the roadie has to kinda reach around in front of him in a really awkward way to grab it). The roadie proceeds to start pounding on the strings like crazy to keep the song going, then, while the roadie is playing, Frank whips it out and takes a piss on the side of the building! He finishes up, shakes and puts it away, then grabs the bass, jumps back into playing the song without skipping a beat, and they both run back into the club. Needless to say, he got a standing ovation from all of us. Quite possibly the most entertaining part of the night.

-Y

I saw Obituary on that '97 tour in Phoenix

 

[jimmydean]

I seem to remember staying in a Hostel near Victoria Station in London where the band was holed up in a crappy room with bad plumbing , ect , ect and some of the guys leaving vast sums of DNA ( solid/liquid ) on.......well everything . CSI would have refused to go in that room .

 

[Five or Six]

I ended up on the road with two early players from separate bands before their original bands took off. Both bands eventually made it big. But, both had left before that happened sadly. They had met at gigs and became friends. The story: Anyway, they both were at a gig together that I was playing in Grand Rapids Michigan. We went on break and I sat down for a drink of water. Both of them approached me and sat down introducing themselves. We started talking about their in progress combined project. They were headed for the road and needed a bass player. Theirs had just up and quit without explanation. In other words, they were shopping!

Both liked what they heard from me and asked me if I might be interested in joining them? I was playing in a very productive touring band and, I liked the guys I was playing with. Anyway, they wanted an answer in a couple of days. I wasn't looking for anything but, a challenge was always appealing. So after a couple of sleepless nights I approached our BL Sunday evening (in person). I explained what the deal was and asked him for a leave. I had supplied them with a replacement basd player a year before when I broke my wrist and he worked out well. He was also a friend of mine.

BL told me he hated to lose me but, if I could get Danny to take my place again it was a go. But, if not it was a no go. I dialed Danny up and he agreed to help me out. So, it was on. I joined McCroskey and Hunter mid week for a rehearsal in Kalamazoo Michigan. Things came together quickly. Promotions company and manager got us booked immediately in Chicago opening for a well known band. I was stoked beyond explanation. Hunter knew some of the this band we were opening for and our promotional company sent someone to check us out. Hunter and I were standing by ourselves back stage before the gig when a guy from promotions walked up to us and introduced himself.

This dude had a folder with our promotional package in it. He looked at me and looked back at the package. Evedently my photo wasn't in it. The package was never updated. Whoops! This guy looked at Hunter and said: who the "F" is this guy?? Hunter said: this is """"""our bass player, is there a problem? This guy said yes, that I hadn't been cleared by promotions. I didn't have a contract, so therefore I couldn't play. Hunter told him he was out of his mind and that we were going on like we were supposed to and, for him to go away before this got out of hand. The guy got in Hunters face, I tried to separate them and this guy pushed me.

We were now joined by our entire band. They were there to see what was going on. It got very heated and my drummer had ahold of me. I'm not a small guy, 6'1" 250 with a temper. As I broke free Hunter hit this dude right in the forehead knocking him cold. Security finally had got there as this happened. One of them grabbed me and said : you are out of here followed by Hunter. Needless to say, we never hit the stage. Our promotional company dropped us like Hunter dropped him.

We hired another company and spent just over a year on the road having a ball. We did so until our keyboard player and drummer were both sadly killed in a car accident. Both were drunk! I still stay in touch with those two and have set in or jamed with them on ocassion. Sorry about the novel.

 

[Bunk McNulty]

Redhead Goes West Aug. 3-4

 

[dbsfgyd1]

I've got nothing...(statutes of limitations may still apply, and a gentleman never tells, anyway)
However, @bassbrad , I'll be looking forward to that book!

‘Here! Here!!

 

[J Wilson]

I'm in a local bar/cover band back home in East TX, and the band leader books us back in his home town in the Cajun country for a local festival dance, 9-2.

Get there, it's in a KC Hall, and it's this long rectangle of a room. The length of the left wall is food they all brought (Yippee!!). The length of the left wall . . . is all bar. Cajuns love to eat, take a drink, and dance, have a big time.

Gig goes great, we're on a good night, crowd's diggin' it, good times. Ate like kings, they made us very welcome.

So right before 2, the BL says they'll pay us to go another hour. This happens again at 3, then 4, then 5AM, as virtually no one would leave. We finally pull the plug at 6AM, and I'm utterly convinced it was only so they could go home, wash up, change clothes, and go to Sunday Mass.

Went home with $1800, they must have been passing a BIG hat!

 

[bassbrad]

I'm in a local bar/cover band back home in East TX, and the band leader books us back in his home town in the Cajun country for a local festival dance, 9-2.

Get there, it's in a KC Hall, and it's this long rectangle of a room. The length of the left wall is food they all brought (Yippee!!). The length of the left wall . . . is all bar. Cajuns love to eat, take a drink, and dance, have a big time.

Gig goes great, we're on a good night, crowd's diggin' it, good times. Ate like kings, they made us very welcome.

So right before 2, the BL says they'll pay us to go another hour. This happens again at 3, then 4, then 5AM, as virtually no one would leave. We finally pull the plug at 6AM, and I'm utterly convinced it was only so they could go home, wash up, change clothes, and go to Sunday Mass.

Went home with $1800, they must have been passing a BIG hat!

When I was growing up playing beer joints and Honky Tonks a KC Hall or SPJST seemed like the big time.

 

[JRA]

...share something that happened on the road that wasn’t expected or is just off the wall.

~'66? unexpected, and maybe a little off the wall: walking into the dressing room and sharing the spliff that smokey rolled, with smokey, after our set on a crowded-marquee show in PA (allentown? philly?). i was a kid (and his fan) and he was an actual adult (and a hero) --- blew my teenage mind.

 

[littlebun]

On a major tour with a new bus driver who was provided by the tour bus company. A very unfriendly guy, and any comments from him involved racist rants; especially about African Americans. Eventually he stopped following directions to stop for food or truck stop visits. The road manager told him that the artist is paying for him as a driver and for the tour bus, so do stop when needed. The driver said that he's not going to stop for any of that because he's got a job to do? No stopping, period. The road manager told him to stop at the next stop, no arguing about it. The driver throws a tantrum and slams on the brakes at 70 miles an hour. Then proceeds to speed up and slow down all the way to the next stop. We arrive in Phoenix, and the road manager calls the tour bus company and tells them to fly in another driver --immediately--. They said they would but they couldn't fly another driver in until the next stop in Austin, but not to worry -they will deal with him.

We get to the hotel and the driver calls and says 'meet him at the pool for a party'? He had taken all of our spirits and food from the bus carrying them to the pool, and was acting oddly friendly and happy wanting to hang out? Just being really nutty. Later, as we were playing the concert, we didn't know it, but the tour bus company had called him as we were playing, firing him from our tour. We get on the bus after the concert and start for Austin. He informs us that his bus company had just now called him and said that we didn't want him on our tour anymore. He said a bunch of weird angry sh** and proceeded to drive like a maniac, slamming on brakes, swerving and yelling as he was heading to Austin. We finally get to Austin and get our new driver there. The tour bus company flew the crazy racist driver to LA and put him on as driver for a major Rap artist. That band left LA with him as their driver. Half way between LA and San Diego that band made him pull the bus over, and they tossed his crazy, racist a## out of the bus, onto the side of the 5 FWY and left him there. They proceeded to drive their own bus to San Diego.

 

[Five or Six]

Good thing he wasn't a pilot!

 

[bassbrad]

On a major tour with a new bus driver who was provided by the tour bus company. A very unfriendly guy, and any comments from him involved racist rants; especially about African Americans. Eventually he stopped following directions to stop for food or truck stop visits. The road manager told him that the artist is paying for him as a driver and for the tour bus, so do stop when needed. The driver said that he's not going to stop for any of that because he's got a job to do? No stopping, period. The road manager told him to stop at the next stop, no arguing about it. The driver throws a tantrum and slams on the brakes at 70 miles an hour. Then proceeds to speed up and slow down all the way to the next stop. We arrive in Phoenix, and the road manager calls the tour bus company and tells them to fly in another driver --immediately--. They said they would but they couldn't fly another driver in until the next stop in Austin, but not to worry -they will deal with him.

We get to the hotel and the driver calls and says 'meet him at the pool for a party'? He had taken all of our spirits and food from the bus carrying them to the pool, and was acting oddly friendly and happy wanting to hang out? Just being really nutty. Later, as we were playing the concert, we didn't know it, but the tour bus company had called him as we were playing, firing him from our tour. We get on the bus after the concert and start for Austin. He informs us that his bus company had just now called him and said that we didn't want him on our tour anymore. He said a bunch of weird angry sh** and proceeded to drive like a maniac, slamming on brakes, swerving and yelling as he was heading to Austin. We finally get to Austin and get our new driver there. The tour bus company flew the crazy racist driver to LA and put him on as driver for a major Rap artist. That band left LA with him as their driver. Half way between LA and San Diego that band made him pull the bus over, and they tossed his crazy, racist a## out of the bus, onto the side of the 5 FWY and left him there. They proceeded to drive their own bus to San Diego.

Worthless jerk most certainly in the wrong business. In my professional daze one job that made ends meet and paid a lot more than playing bass was driving various vehicles on tours, occasionally doing both. Driving the bus for the talent, band or crew was always the responsibility and usually the most fun.
And yes he would have been booted immediately and likely unpleasantly.