Tour Stories: What's the Craziest Thing That's Happened to You on the Road?

Posted by Jesse Sterling Harrison on Apr 21, 2016 06:00 AM

stagediving.jpgPhoto by Flavia via flickr.com; used under Creative Commons

In your rehearsal space, everything’s under control. You know where your gear is. Your amps are facing in the right direction. You can hear yourself on the PA. But the glory is out there in the clubs and theaters, not in your garage. Once you take your show on the road, you’re entering a world in which anything can happen and both glory and disaster await you. With a tip of the hat to live performers everywhere, here are some true, crazy stories from the road.

The great gear exodus

"We were asked to play a parking lot show outside a local diner," writes Lincoln, a songwriter and guitarist from Iowa. "There were three other bands on the bill before us. They all played under sunny skies. But as we were setting up, this black cloud suddenly appeared from the northwest. We tuned up fast and tried to get our set in, but in the middle of our third song, it suddenly started raining harder than I’ve ever seen.

"As we were struggling to get stuff unplugged and get our guitars into the cases, our fans and everybody else in the audience rushed forward and started grabbing our gear. I watched cymbals, amps, cables, power strips, and a bass drum disappear into six different cars, which screeched away in all directions."

Was Lincoln’s band the victim of opportunistic looting? Not in the Midwest! "By seven that evening, every single piece of equipment onstage had been returned to our practice space unharmed. The crowd was just helping out…nobody even stopped to think how it would look." That’s a small town for you!

[4 Tour Horror Stories That Will Make You Cringe]

Stronger than expected

Jim, a bassist from New York, pulled together a show in Boston for his band. He borrowed a van and had to drive the entire way in both directions, since he was the only one with a license. Arriving early, they were delighted to learn that the venue had a terrific kitchen and cheap drinks. Jim ordered a burger.

"This is Boston," he reports, "so the bartender steps up and hands me a swimming pool full of gin. I had two of those before hitting the stage, and one onstage with me." Bars love to pay bands using a heady combination of drinks, food, and cash – it saves them money and keeps performers happy. But in this case, the bar’s largesse had predictable results.

"I remember playing a great set. I remember leaving the stage. Apparently, I had two more that night." Witnesses recount a bouncer attempting to intervene, offering our bass player friend the opinion that it was time to call it a night. Jim vehemently disagreed, although he has no recollection of doing so. At this point, he was "invited" to exit the venue. Luckily, a sober townie friend was in attendance. This honorable wingman took charge of the van, with Jim passed out in back and his unlicensed bandmates along for the ride.

Sometime late the next afternoon, topped off with coffee and aspirin, Jim was well enough to drive them all back to New York – and hear his own story from his friends.

Let’s start laughing now

Jonah, a guitarist from New Hampshire, was asked to sign on with a local songwriter’s new live band. For months, they rehearsed until they had a set of diverse originals and felt ready to play out.

"We were asked to play a benefit concert for one of the student organizations at this local college," he reports. "It was going to be our first show. No pay, but lots of college students and a low-pressure setting. It sounded perfect." Trouble was, there were several other huge campus events going on that night, and the students in charge hadn’t promoted the show; they hadn’t even hung a single flyer.

"We set up in this huge, empty gymnasium. We had a nice PA and a student running the board. And that was it! The show started at 8:00 p.m., and by 8:15 p.m. there wasn’t a single person in the room, so we started anyhow. The members of the college club didn’t even come to their own fundraiser…they were all attending other events on campus. We played for the sound woman and that was it. Somebody said, ‘You know how we say we’ll look back on something and laugh? Let’s just start laughing now.'"

On the upside, the band had nowhere to go but up, and all their future shows included at least one audience member.

Worcester by bus

"I used to have a problem deciding who to play with. I would take any gig figuring I could make something of it." That’s Clint, a keyboardist from western Massachusetts who joined a short-lived gothic dance act. "It was just me and the singer/songwriter and a bunch of computers and synths. And this guy Brad had about two hours of material he wanted me to learn. He was playing his first show in two weeks. We rehearsed like crazy and felt comfortable only the night before our first show."

The gig didn’t sound auspicious: it was an art opening in an industrial district in Worcester, MA. "Neither of us had a car," Clint explains, "so Brad told me a friend was going to come pick us up. The friend did not. We started asking around for a ride, but it was 2:00 p.m. on a Saturday and nobody was around. Finally, we ended up lugging our gear onto a city bus, then changing over to another bus to make it to Worcester. We unloaded our gear there in pouring rain and fog."

And then the gig was great, right? It made the whole ordeal worthwhile? "Not exactly," Clint admits. "I’m pretty sure we were only there so my bandmate could pick up on this woman who worked at the gallery. There were about 15 people there, and we made mistakes left and right throughout our set. Finally, we packed up, and Brad got us a ride to this empty house where he’d arranged for us to spend the night. He only revealed later that the owners had no idea we were staying there…Brad just had a friend who happened to have the key. We had to sneak out at dawn the next morning before the homeowners showed up and called the police!"

 

Of course, moments like this which might seem like low points at the time become part of a band’s private lore – the shared crazy memories that inspire songs and make bands bond. For every low, there’s a triumphant stage moment or a victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. Surely you have a few yourself…and that’s what the comment section is for.

 

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Jesse Sterling Harrison is an author, recording artist, and part-time farmer. He lives in Massachusetts with his wife, three daughters, and a herd of ducks.

Topics: Music Business 101, Booking Gigs & Touring, Musician Life

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