Got A Funny "GIG STORY" You Wanna Share....

Probably   the  one  about  the  drunken French  guy    is  the  best,  he  was  dancing  at  the  front  and  kept  trying  to  get  on stage  .  The  bar  owner "a  big    guy  "escorted  him out  4 times   but  somehow  he  kept  getting  back  in and  gradually  got  drunker  ,As  we  started   playing  Iggy pops  wild child  he  leapt  on to  the  stage  Steff  and  I  both   fell  backwards  into  the  drum kit ,but  kept  on playing Elpida  our  girl  singer  then grabbed  both  mic stands  and  carried  on singing   as though  nothing  had  happened  while  the  bouncers  grabbed  the  guy  and  threw him into  the  street  like  something  out  of  a  wild  west movie .Apparently  they  then gently escorted him well away  from the  bar.  Any way  he  didn't  return.

WHOA! I'm not sure how I would have handled all of that!! WOW!

Great story, Kim and welcome to the family! It's not often we get a chance like the one you've described, so here's wishing you many, many more such opportunities which you can share with us here.

All the best und SERVUS! to all your Aachen friends!

Bill (aus Rothenburg ob der Tauber)

Back in the mid 80's I occasionally played with a couple buddies at a local restaurant/bar called the "Cellar".  I only played during the winter months because in the summer any time  I had a free day or two I preferred to spend it kayaking whitewater rivers and do my guitar picking at creek-side campfires. I had already played a few times during the winter and in mid-February I got a call and was asked if I could play the first weekend in March.  I agreed, forgetting that the evening I was asked to play happened to be my 35th birthday.  I finally remembered a day later but decided not to back out of the gig.  It wasn't great pay, 50 bucks and all the beer I could drink to play from 9 to midnight.  If there was a good crowd,  another $30 could be made for playing another hour until the place closed.

We (me, a bass player and a banjo player) arrived at the bar, set up the  PA and was checking sound when a couple kayakers I knew from the Cincinnati area came in.  I asked why they drove 100 miles to hear us play and they said the word was out in the paddling community that it was my birthday, I was playing at the Cellar and there wasn't much else for paddlers to do on March 1st anyway.  I told the bartender to get them each a drink on me and keep a tab so I could settle up at the end of the evening.  A few minutes later another half dozen or so kayakers and rafters came in and I bought each of them their first drink and had it put on my tab.  I had a pretty good repertoire of original "river" songs and was belting then out during the evening as more paddlers from Ohio, Ky and West Virginia came in and joined the local restaurant patrons. Each of their first drinks was on me.  As the evening wore on and the adult beverages flowed, we also began playing some bluegrass tunes as drunk patrons sang, clogged and danced on tables.  The bar owner asked if we could play an extra hour as the party was still going strong.  By this time I also had tipped a few too many and was slurring words to the delight of the crowd.

Finally it was time for the bar to close and it was over.  When they totaled up the tab against my pay, I owed the bar four dollars.............

DE

One season that I played double bass in a playhouse orchestra, I witnessed the most amazing feat of athletics and timing I ever expect to see.  The playhouse was in a converted barn. The orchestra pit was actually a loft. The stairs to the loft were in the wings stage right. To get to them, one had to cross the stage between a passage that ran behind seating and the stage right wings. The orchestra was supposed to be in position fifteen minutes before curtain...because there was no curtain.

One day, the orchestra was ready, all except our piano playing leader. As moments ticked by, and actors took position, he was still not around. As the time counted down, we were ready to start without him as the stage lights began to warm. Then, we saw him...all 5'3" slender as a willow branch ... running at full sprint up the passage. He couldn't go on stage, so he sprang up from this full sprint and launched. He grabbed the floor of the pit/loft and pushed. All in one fluid movement, he flew under the safety rail, tucked and rolled, somehow missing instruments, stands, and musicians in the cramped space. When he stood, he was at his piano playing the opening bars of the prelude. He soloed for a moment because we were all still in amazed shock at the witness of his astounding feat of strength and grace.

back in the 70's i was playing with a club/rock band (that'll probably mean something different in the US). our drummer liked a drink or two and on this occasion our bassist was also in "the mood". the gig started well enough, but as we got into the second half the alcohol began to show itself in his drumming! now i love Yes music with it's speeding up and slowing down, but when you're playing an out and out rocker namely "summertime blues" a la the Who, slowing down is the last thing you want. but apparently our drummer was so sozzled that he kept falling asleep and eventually fell off his stool too! we finished the night without him.

another time another band, we were playing the last gig with our drummer (different guy) and his replacement came with us to get a feel for what we did. now this was the 70's and we were all in our 20's and we were an out and out rock band and we were giving it the beans when a young lady that was shall we say scantily dressed was dancing right at the front in full view of the new drummer, arms up in the air, no bra (sorry amy) so, sooner or later we knew what would happen, and it did. we were all watching intently and dare i say speeding up in expectation of the revelation. we were not disappointed! when we asked the new guy later, he had been so intent on watching the old drummer that he hadn't even seen it! but we took him on anyway, but he kept his eyes open after that.

Bill,

Which thread is your story in?  I want to read it. 

- Zurf

Ha ha.  Good story.  I found it (obviously).

Great stories gentleman !  I wish I had the talent to perform.
I enjoyed your stories immensely. EAsybeat I can feel your pain.... I gave my wife 5 coupons for Christmas, each one good for " stop playing and singing for the evening!"

I agree with Zurf and Amy--keep 'em coming!! There are some great story here from some terrific local artists in this group, I"m sure.  I just went and saw my ukulele addiction "dealer"--HA! play in his ukulele jam band and saw an AMAZING guitarist!! If I get the umption, I'll post a link in the local bands thread--but it reminded me of how important it is to support local bands!!

Back in Grade 12, I subbed for a couple months in a soul group, because their guitarist had broke his hand. I did 5 gigs with them which were all High School dances. Our repertoire was Kool & the Gang, Stevie Wonder, War, Curtis Mayfield, Earth Wind & Fire, etc. We were tolerably good enough to dance to, but not much more. The funny part was that I was the only Caucasian in the group of six, but we were all solid friends and got along great. When our lead singer (Roger) introduced the band members, he always referred to me as "the honky on guitar", and we aways laughed like crazy. And I was given space to do a funk-style wah-wah solo in Wild Cherry's song (you guessed it) "Play that Funky Music, White Boy".

I was very fortunate to live in a small community, where racism was pretty much non-existent.