Have you ever got into fight on the gig ???
Moderator: Shoshanah Marohn
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Perry Hansen
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Charlie Vaughn
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Wayne Brown
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i had one fight at a bar called the palace in nanaimo bc. (figures eh) this drunk wanted to dance with my wife , she nicely said no thank you . so he grabbed her by the arm and when she stood up, he cocked his fist. that was the last thing he remembers as he went night night .see the guy didn't know i'm always wireless when i front a band, and when he went to hit my wife i drilled him with a 1971 gibson sg up side the head...(i sure do miss that guitar ) i broke the guitar in 3 places and it was useless from then on, (basicly fire wood). now any of you that has met my wife knows lori 100lbs soaking wet.she's a red head and tough as they come ,(farm girl) but this guy was huge...anyways the bar owner saw this and threw the guy out the door and kicked him down the street...now i don't mean that he kicked him into the street i ment he kicked him down the street for about 5 min.that must have hurt as the street out side the palace is cobble stone. so the cops came and the guy wanted me to be charged...well...it just so happened the the cop that came to the hotel was a friend of mine, as i'm a marine mec. and i fix his boat all the time. so the cop sent the guy on his way. we sat out the rest of the night drinking coffee with the cop and the bar owner as i had no more guitar
the one thing i can't stand is butthead drunks
wayne
the one thing i can't stand is butthead drunks
wayne
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Wayne Brown
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Damir Besic
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Rick McDuffie
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- Location: Benson, North Carolina, USA
This one happened about 1971. My rock band was playing a Christmas party for a local grocery wholesaler, and we were pretty loud and raunchy back then. One of the drunks in the audience didn't care for our music,and he didn't like the looks of the bass player (he was a city boy who had recently moved to eastern NC), so he sent word up to the bandstand that he was going to "cut" him at the end of the gig. (This was down in Robeson Co., NC, where it was something of a sport to see how badly you could cut somebody with a knife without actually killing them. I've actually heard people brag about how many stitches so-and-so had to have when they got through with them). Anyway, back to the story- our buddy Neil Graham, who worked at this place and had gotten us this gig (thanks a lot) came up with a plan for helping the bass man get out of this predicament. He told us at the break: "As soon as the last song is over, I'm going to hit this guy. When I do, ya'll run." Sure enough, as soon as we played the last note, Neil let him hold it right up 'side the head and took off out the door running, with Mr. I'm-gonna-cut-you right in behind him. We slung our gear in the cars and were gone within 3-4 minutes- I've never packed up that fast. At school on Monday (yes, we were still in high school), Neil told us that by the time the guy chased him down they were both so winded that neither one wanted to fight. So... it was a happy ending. Neil Graham... what a guy, and what a TRUE FRIEND! I haven't seen or heard of him since 1972, but I'll never forget his wacky (but quite ingenious) plan.
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Rick McDuffie
Tarheel Jazz Q-tet
Debbie Elam Band
www.tarheelmusic.com
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Rick McDuffie
Tarheel Jazz Q-tet
Debbie Elam Band
www.tarheelmusic.com
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Keith Murrow
- Posts: 280
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- Location: Wichita, KS
Well Pilgrim...
I can say "looking back" that some of it was not the result of the clearest thinking.
Actually most of the times it was because of loading out of a place or places that had syringes laying around in the parking lots, and a female singer that it would have been embarrassing trying to protect her/us with a banjo..
Once in a while I had be lead to believe (rightfully) that other band members were armed, and it just escalated I guess. It did however escalate to a higher plane when everybody knew that the two or three of us had enough bullets to take everybody out.. People played more in tune, on time, and there seemed to be an enhanced aura of politeness.
In an aside, I've worked for several construction companies where they had a "no guns" policy. Two things struck me about that:
One was that they were showing that their practices towards their employees were such that they knew they would PO people enough to shoot them. The other was that most of us in a position of being thusly POed were driving 52 ton trucks, and the "office" was rarely out of harm's way. A person can get shot with a .38 and usually live. Getting run over by a lowboy on the other hand....
I envy people that have safe, secure, and even "friendly" work, musical, or living environs. Not everbody does.
I can't remember when I felt I had to be armed to get through my day, or evening, but I remember that when I felt so, it didn't upset my serenity that much.
Matter of fact this next weekend gig is out of town at a place where they have a shooting range. I've got a couple black powder pistols I'm gonna take along with guns I haven't shot in decades. I'm eventually gonna get tired of practicing my banjo..
EJL
I can say "looking back" that some of it was not the result of the clearest thinking.
Actually most of the times it was because of loading out of a place or places that had syringes laying around in the parking lots, and a female singer that it would have been embarrassing trying to protect her/us with a banjo..
Once in a while I had be lead to believe (rightfully) that other band members were armed, and it just escalated I guess. It did however escalate to a higher plane when everybody knew that the two or three of us had enough bullets to take everybody out.. People played more in tune, on time, and there seemed to be an enhanced aura of politeness.
In an aside, I've worked for several construction companies where they had a "no guns" policy. Two things struck me about that:
One was that they were showing that their practices towards their employees were such that they knew they would PO people enough to shoot them. The other was that most of us in a position of being thusly POed were driving 52 ton trucks, and the "office" was rarely out of harm's way. A person can get shot with a .38 and usually live. Getting run over by a lowboy on the other hand....
I envy people that have safe, secure, and even "friendly" work, musical, or living environs. Not everbody does.
I can't remember when I felt I had to be armed to get through my day, or evening, but I remember that when I felt so, it didn't upset my serenity that much.
Matter of fact this next weekend gig is out of town at a place where they have a shooting range. I've got a couple black powder pistols I'm gonna take along with guns I haven't shot in decades. I'm eventually gonna get tired of practicing my banjo..
EJL
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JamesMCross
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- Location: Houston, Texas, USA
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I am not making this up, I promise. Some names have been changed to protect the identities of several key participants.
I was playing guitar in a country rock outfit way back in 1979, in a club called CowTown on 33rd South in SLC. We had the house job all summer, and played 5 nights a week with a jam session early Sunday evenings. There were a lot of fights in the club and outside, but I participated in only one.
My girlfriend came in after work for the last set on Saturday night as she often did with some of her friends, and they and sat in the booth behind the band table.
She got into some sort of dissagreement with another female admirer of the band, (whom she always thought was a little too forward with the boys in the band), and the next thing you know, they're tossing the contents of their beer glasses at each other. Then, they start using the beer pitchers for ammo. Pretty soon, they're wrestling each other down right in the middle of the dance floor. This place holds maybe 200 people tops, and the dance floor is packed. But, a big circle of people opens up around them - just like in the movies.
One of our unofficial band crew - our buddy Rory, who happens to be sweet on the other girl, goes out on the floor to break it up, and he gets punched in the back of the head by the other girl's wanna-be boyfriend, who is also looking for ways to gain her attention.
Then, our band leader Hank, (who was generally not well-known for his ability to hold his liquor or his temper, especially at the end of a long week of partying and all), jumps off the bandstand and punches the other guy in defence of Rory. All this is right in the middle of our last tune for the night, a rollicking 3-guitars rendition of Born to Be Wild....
I set down my guitar, as does my brother Billy and the other guitar player Bobby M.
Next thing you know, we're all out there on the dance floor punching and shoving, and the bouncers are nowhere to be found! We try to reason with people, but end up having to defend ourselves and fend off a punch or two.
Clubowner calls the cops, and we all calmed down after about 15 minutes of bar room brawling. No one was arrested, and no one really got hurt, except for a bruise or two, some beer on the clothes and some sore knuckles.
We went through the rest of that summer without injury, and I've been married to that very same girl now for coming up on 22 years. When she comes to my gigs now, she is a little more reserved.!
I was playing guitar in a country rock outfit way back in 1979, in a club called CowTown on 33rd South in SLC. We had the house job all summer, and played 5 nights a week with a jam session early Sunday evenings. There were a lot of fights in the club and outside, but I participated in only one.
My girlfriend came in after work for the last set on Saturday night as she often did with some of her friends, and they and sat in the booth behind the band table.
She got into some sort of dissagreement with another female admirer of the band, (whom she always thought was a little too forward with the boys in the band), and the next thing you know, they're tossing the contents of their beer glasses at each other. Then, they start using the beer pitchers for ammo. Pretty soon, they're wrestling each other down right in the middle of the dance floor. This place holds maybe 200 people tops, and the dance floor is packed. But, a big circle of people opens up around them - just like in the movies.
One of our unofficial band crew - our buddy Rory, who happens to be sweet on the other girl, goes out on the floor to break it up, and he gets punched in the back of the head by the other girl's wanna-be boyfriend, who is also looking for ways to gain her attention.
Then, our band leader Hank, (who was generally not well-known for his ability to hold his liquor or his temper, especially at the end of a long week of partying and all), jumps off the bandstand and punches the other guy in defence of Rory. All this is right in the middle of our last tune for the night, a rollicking 3-guitars rendition of Born to Be Wild....
I set down my guitar, as does my brother Billy and the other guitar player Bobby M.
Next thing you know, we're all out there on the dance floor punching and shoving, and the bouncers are nowhere to be found! We try to reason with people, but end up having to defend ourselves and fend off a punch or two.
Clubowner calls the cops, and we all calmed down after about 15 minutes of bar room brawling. No one was arrested, and no one really got hurt, except for a bruise or two, some beer on the clothes and some sore knuckles.
We went through the rest of that summer without injury, and I've been married to that very same girl now for coming up on 22 years. When she comes to my gigs now, she is a little more reserved.!
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Shaan Shirazi
- Posts: 311
- Joined: 4 Feb 2001 1:01 am
- Location: Austin, TX, USA
It was a case of mistaken identity...
On a dark and windy night at the Brushy Creek Saloon in Norman's Crossing Texas when a beligerrant drunk (go figure) somehow decided he was going to kick the lead guitarist's butt who also happened to be the singer's Dad. Dad was wearing a Black Stetson and a goatee and so was some diminutive friend of the band who found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The drunk who was a big guy but not huge grabbed the friend by the throat because he was so drunk he didn't know (or care) that he was attacking the wrong guy. He was getting ready to wail when I decided to tackle him into a bank of tables. Then, of course, his equally drunk girlfriend tried to jump on my back. I just sort of remember shrugging her off but everyone else seemed to think I threw her across the room into some stacked chairs, who knows? So the big guy comes at me for round two and I'm surprised at the clarity being felt by me as I wrap his legs up again and hoist him in the general direction of his sprawled out girlfriend. By that time enough people were around to break it up and they sent him down the road with his son threatening that they were gonna come back later but nothing ever happened. Looking back, it was kind of fun coming to the rescue and a sort of redemption from another time when I didn't get involved in completely unjust provocation and the guy could have used my help. From now on, I got your back!
Shaan
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The Pickin' Paniolo
On a dark and windy night at the Brushy Creek Saloon in Norman's Crossing Texas when a beligerrant drunk (go figure) somehow decided he was going to kick the lead guitarist's butt who also happened to be the singer's Dad. Dad was wearing a Black Stetson and a goatee and so was some diminutive friend of the band who found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The drunk who was a big guy but not huge grabbed the friend by the throat because he was so drunk he didn't know (or care) that he was attacking the wrong guy. He was getting ready to wail when I decided to tackle him into a bank of tables. Then, of course, his equally drunk girlfriend tried to jump on my back. I just sort of remember shrugging her off but everyone else seemed to think I threw her across the room into some stacked chairs, who knows? So the big guy comes at me for round two and I'm surprised at the clarity being felt by me as I wrap his legs up again and hoist him in the general direction of his sprawled out girlfriend. By that time enough people were around to break it up and they sent him down the road with his son threatening that they were gonna come back later but nothing ever happened. Looking back, it was kind of fun coming to the rescue and a sort of redemption from another time when I didn't get involved in completely unjust provocation and the guy could have used my help. From now on, I got your back!
Shaan
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The Pickin' Paniolo
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Jackie Anderson
- Posts: 512
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- Location: Scarborough, ME
Not coming to the rescue, but just loading out from some Lower East Side (NYC) venue we had just played, with an amp in each hand, I saw the lead guitar player (generally one of the most beligerent guys I have ever been in a band with) on the sidewalk with a couple of guys on him, and before I had even fully taken in the scene, another guy popped in front of me, asking "are you with him?" not that I could plausably deny it, but before I could say a word (like, ask what the guitar player might have said to offend those guys), I was on the sidewalk myself, and the three guys were gone down the block. As luck would have it, this being 1966, we were on our way to Town Hall to participate in a big Sing In against the war in Vietnam, at the end of which I found myself standing on stage beside Joan Baez with a sore jaw singing "Amazing Grace," thinking "what a set of pipes she has!" Later on I was part owner of a bar, and have had to talk a few bikers out of a few arguments over the pool table, too. But all in all, looking back on my gigging days, I think that both I and my equipment have taken more lumps from friendly drunks falling over on us, than anything else.