#GigsGoneWrong

Here’s a text message I sent to Russ about how a gig was going recently.  There are three things you should know:  1.) Russ is my husband and fellow musician.  2.) “Jeeves” is my GPS navigator.  3.) Names have been changed to protect the “not so innocent.”

“At dead end, Jeeves told me to make a left… then no mic cuz no outlet, then no monitors, then car would’ve got ticket if Little Sam didn’t move – now I gotta pay him to figure out where the hell he put it”

Russ responded:

“Lovely.  Can you pay him in pistachios?”

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This is not an unusual conversation for us.  In fact, the whole experience was not that unusual. 

It all started just prior to a seven-hour car ride from Buffalo.  Because we were crunched for time, I asked Russ to create a playlist for me on my iPod with the songs I needed to learn for that weekend’s show.  I would listen while driving.  We were both driving from Buffalo to the NYC area, but in two separate cars.  He based the playlist on the email I had received containing gig info, and was going to also include some additional songs I mentioned.  Shortly into the drive I realized that four songs were missing from the playlist.  Luckily, they were already on my iPod so creating another “On The Go” list from the road was not too difficult.  I could have done it while driving – although I am NOT saying that THAT is what I did.

After the long drive and the unpacking of car, walking of dogs, and sketchy sleeping… after the waking up groggy and hunting for food because of an empty fridge and no coffee, getting ready for the gig was even more hectic than usual.  It always takes longer when you have to dig through your suitcase to find every little thing you need and have to unpack and repack your gig bag and find your damn shoes and winter coat.  I was running late so I asked Russ for help again.  He printed my gig directions and transferred my song lyrics from iPod to iPad (thanks Russ).  Finally I was out the door.

Of COURSE there was a questionable amount of gas in the car (I’d probably make it to the gig – but all the way back home? – Would there be a gas station near the venue?)  I had recently run out of gas on the way home from a gig in Jersey because there were NO gas stations open nearby at that hour, and I didn’t want to go through THAT again!  I stopped at the bottom of the Palisades for cheap gas.  There was hardly a line!  Great!  While the guy was filling the tank I glanced at the directions Russ had printed (I had been using my navigator, Jeeves, until then).  To my horror they directed me nowhere near where I was.  How could they vary so wildly from Jeeves?!?!  I called Russ.

Russ said, “Oh yeah… The shortest route could lead you straight into traffic where you could be sitting for hours, so I chose a different route avoiding all of that.”  Great.  Now I was stuck on the route with all of the potential traffic jam-ups.  I felt the blood rush to my chest in a bout of undue stress.  I asked Russ to read me the gig email (which there was no time to print because my computer ran out of battery just as I was walking out the door) to make sure there was nothing ELSE I might’ve missed.

Argh!  There was another song listed in the email that I hadn’t listened to!  What was THAT?!?!  Russ said it had a male lead vocal and he hadn’t thought I needed it when he made the playlist.  “But there may be important background vocals!”  I was getting exasperated.  Fine.  He emailed me a YouTube link to the song to view once I got to the gig.  I should’ve put together my own playlist anyway.  I was more annoyed that Russ hadn’t walked the dogs yet.  (And Russ turned out to be right about the song… I hadn’t needed it… but don’t tell HIM that OK?)

Traffic was light throughout the city, so I was doing fine on time.  I wasn’t even really that concerned when I missed my exit and ended up on local residential roads in a totally unfamiliar area.  It wasn’t until I came to a complete stop at a dead end facing the water and heard Jeeves say, “make a left here” that I started to panic again.  “JEEVES!” I said out loud, “You are just WRONG.”  I turned the car around, ignoring Jeeves’ attempts to get me to “turn around when possible.”  Glancing at the clock, I realized I was still doing fine on time and relaxed.  I kept driving until a “recalculation” led me to the venue, and after a couple of u-turns trying to figure out how the hell to access the parking lot, I pulled up to the valet guys.

They told me to park along the side of the building, next to the dumpsters, and things were looking up when I got the last parking spot there.  Never mind the way the horn player drove up behind me, rolled down his window and informed me that I was no longer his friend for taking that last spot.  J  I unloaded my mic, stand and gig bag and headed inside after knocking on the window of the car next to me, where the male vocalist was listening to his songs, and making him jump.  I smiled after successfully scaring him.  (This particular group I work with is full of old friends who banter constantly and make things extra fun.)  We both laughed and I trudged up the ramp toward the front doors of the venue.

Once inside, I set up my equipment, said hello to the other female lead vocalist (who is very nice and whom I hadn’t seen in years), changed my shoes, put the bags away and got ready to sing.  When the sound guy/guitar player asked me to check my mic and it didn’t work, I noticed that there was no power running to the wireless receiver.  The kid helping out (Little Sam) said there was a bad outlet.  There was no time for anyone to run out to the car where the spare power strip was.  “Use this.”  The bandleader handed me an extra cordless mic.  Why did I even bring my mic if there was already an extra one here?  It didn’t matter.  Someone said, “Go Tan!” while playing a “B” and I started singing “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore.” 

It was then that we realized that the monitors (speakers for the band and vocalists to hear themselves) weren’t working.  “Oh yeah,” the sound guy said, “They’re not working.  I don’t know what’s wrong with them.”  Good times, good times.  I smiled as I remembered that I just recently retweeted a Twitter post, under the trend #gigsgonewrong, about a sketchy monitor system (I had added, “What monitors!!?? LOL”).

Oh well.  I was still having fun.  I didn’t even mind when the extra mic ran out of battery or when the bandleader accidentally introduced the newlyweds while the parents were entering the room and my rendition of “This Will Be” was rudely interrupted by the protest of several hundred people and we had to do a “do over.”  (This was actually not as big a deal as it sounds here.)  It wasn’t even a big deal when someone told me they had to move my car because the Sheriff was outside ready to give the whole band tickets for parking near the dumpsters.  It was fine.  I just handed over my keys to Little Sam who moved the car.

When the keys were returned and I was told I didn’t get a ticket and that the car was now safely parked “way on the other side” (probably two miles away – God know where), I said to the male vocalist: “Wait a minute… he’s gonna get it for me at the end of the night right?”  He just laughed.  Then I said, “Wait a minute… I don’t have to TIP him do I!?”  (More laughter.)  Then I asked, “How am I even going to FIND the car at the end of the night!?”  He replied, with more laughter still, “That’s why you gotta pay him!”  (This was followed by cackles of laughter.)  GAW!!!  Fine.  During the break, I asked Little Sam if he would accept payment in gum. J  He seemed intrigued by the idea so I had high hopes that I would get off easily.  (Even though I knew that I only had one stale piece of gum in my purse.)

The broken glass on the floor (dropped by guests), the drunken girls who seemed to be flirting and flashing us, the busted ear drum I had from walking in front of the speaker just as the bandleader yelled something – none of it really bothered me.  Every crazy thing gone wrong only seemed to add to the charm of the evening.  The band was doing a great job despite everything (even the drummer’s sprained ankle) and the people were having a wonderful time.  The event was a smashing success!  Everyone LOVED the band and we ate well.  We even were served salad and dessert in addition to our choice of entrées (a MAJOR gig plus if you ask me)!  All of my bandmates were jovial and the whole gig was great fun!  I even stayed around for an hour after the show talking and listening to the others’ original music/videos.  I even gave Little Sam five bucks for helping with the car. J

Over the years, there’ve been many #gigsgonewrong.  Some were REALLY wrong.  There was the time my boyfriend left with another girl, and the time I threw up into a paper bag during a guitar solo (stomach virus, not alcohol).  This was the same gig where I let the bass player drive my car and I thought he was going to kill us.  He SAID he had a license, but I don’t know.  There was the time the drummer didn’t show up because he was in JAIL, there was the one where I had pneumonia and gargled with lidocaine to get through it, and the time the sound truck broke down and we arrived at the venue to find that the hotel manager, who hired us, had broken out in stress hives by the time the speakers arrived on the back of a tow truck.  There was the time *I* arrived by tow truck!  I could go on and on here… I mean, how about when the bi-polar bass player didn’t take his meds and told the corporate client that she was a f’n c#%! then went on a rampage knocking things over?  There are plenty more examples of #gigsgonewrong, but I digress.

The point is…. (am I EVER going to get one?)  The point is that these crazy things happen often.  Most of the time, nobody in the audience even realizes, and we have a great show!  Here’s another point: if you want quiet predictability, DON’T be a musician – or even in business for yourself at all for that matter.  Remember the movie “Parenthood?”  This is a “rollercoaster ride.”  Buckle up baby, and as Robbie (from the studio) says, “Have FUN!”