This is a memory from many years ago.We often played at a seedy waterfront club that had the reputation of being the roughest club in town.This club was so bad that they had heavy iron rails around the bandstand instead of chicken wire and that was because when a fight started bottles didn't get thrown-they considered that sissy stuff-people got thrown and often ended up bouncing off or hanging from the rails.

This one particular night,the owner's daughter-who looked very out of place there because she was well dressed and an honors student in Uni-was tending the bar.She heard a commotion emanating from the men's washroom and went there to investigate.She came back to the bar almost green from disgust and nausea-a very drunk hooker and an even more drunk sailor were engaging in acts that would make Caligua blush,all of this was on a filthy urine soaked floor.She was traumatized by this but most of the patrons wouldn't bat an eye for this kind of thing was almost par for the course.

Even though this was Fight Central just about every night of the week,they never bothered the bands as there was a strict rule of being banned for life for assaulting or threatening the band members.Dispite this rule only a few bands dared to play there and consequently the pay was way above what other clubs were paying.Of course it helped that the bass player and I had been doormen at other clubs and didn't scare easy...lol.

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A guitar player friend of mine was playing with a band at a local bar. He had called and invited me down to come sit in. I got down in time for the second set, and it was a packed bar, a hot summer night in full swing.

Apparently, the drummer and bassist had some tension going on, and in the middle of a tune, the drummer whipped a stick at the bassist and hit him in the head. The bassist was a big dude, and he shoved me out of the way, ran over to the drummer and punched him square in the eye, knocking him off the stool. There was a huge crash, the band ground to a halt, the crowd of dancers and drinkers stopped, and everyone is looking at the stage.

The drummer is rolling on the floor holding his eye, moaning, "you $@!&, you punched me in the eye" the bassist is glowering down at him, yelling "what'd you throw a stick at me for, man?"
so, the drummer gets up, a huge shiner forming on his eye, and says, "that's it, I'm going home'.

My guitar player friend, a black belt in karate, whose day job is repo-ing cars and bounty hunting, goes up to him and says, "dude, my kid needs shoes and i need this gig, you're staying". He takes off his sunglasses, puts them on the drummer and says', "see, ya look great, ace, now get back on the stool and lets finish this gig". The crowd went nuts, cheering, as the dude got back on his stool, and we whipped into "Born to be Wild".


Feel free to add your gigs from hell and/or roadgig experiences!

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Being able to play and enjoy music is a gift that's often taken for granted.

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the original post was the story of my life, and why after many years of banging my head against the wall, I've given up on bands and gigging in bars.

Trying to get a duo together for coffee shops and smallish pubs... maybe that's even a mistake. I don't even care if ppl listen anymore.. is that a bad sign?

As a teen I remember most of the bands I was in played teen dances at school or community centres for the chance to meet and pick up girls. My rude awakening to the world of playing bars and weddings left little to the imagination. The bass player on the first bar gig I played was a few years older than me so I took my cues from him, the first thing he told me was if a fight breaks out keep on playing, don't stop or it could turn into a real brawl. (He also had the habit of hiding a baseball bat behind his amp.) Second don't ever leave you guitar onstage during breaks. And lastly always try to get the money up front. Needless to say over the years I either disregarded or forgot those primary principles on many an occassion. Had a few cases of being stranded out in God forgot all about these boonies,by managers and booking agents who negelected to tell us they collected the money up front and didn't leave us any money for food or gas at the bar or hotel we were playing. Had my share of bar owners or managers who said they doubled booked us or didn't book us so if we would play for a reduced fee we could still have the gig. For a few years when there was still a lot of three and four night in a row gigs they always insisted we host a free Saturday or Sunday afternoon jam for the locals. And the biggie after a few years was that dream to find the weekend house band gig that paid decent money. (just so you could get a regular paying job during the week to get ahead a little.) Lost more than a few guitars to pawn shops just to get the money to get back home. Learned about the local parking lot games and Saturday night rituals of those real friendly women whose boyfriends were waiting outside for the long haired hippie musicians to provide them with fodder for their alcohol fueled bravado. Then there was the legion of sleazy local musicians union stewards who wanted to see your card and demanded you pay dues to their specific local or suffer the consequences of having your gear smashed to bits,tires slashed ect.ect. Or your own local who never got you a decent paying gig but black-balled you for playing a place where your friends all went that hired non union bands....and the list goes on.... don't get me started on Disco or Karaoke or Music Trivia nights driving down the going rate for bands so low that trio's or singles with beat boxes became the prevalent "musician's" gig.

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