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Charming behaviour from the artist onstage

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I’ve listened to one of the rare live recordings of the great Hank Snow – and he comes across as a rather authoritative person – he’s constantly berating his audience »to behave« and »to listen«. His playing and singing of course is without fault, but he doesn’t seem to enjoy the concert situation.
I was reminded of a Beach Boys concert where the charming Mike Love informed the audience »to stop asking for your favourite songs! We’ve prepared the list of songs we will play before we came here, and we’ve been doing concerts since 1962 – we know what we’re doing!!« Thanks, Mike.
I’m sure you all can recall similar moments of advice from the stage… (anecdotes about Lou Reed will not be counted)

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  1. Worst example of a performer treating an audience at his show with utter contempt I can remember was the legendary jazz guitarist, Joe Pass, at Hong Kong Arts Festival back in the late 80s or early 90s.

    The Ben Turpin/Meher Baba lookalike jazzmeister had obviously had a major falling out with the organizers of that year’s festival. The steam issuing from his ears indicating he was fresh from the contretemps, Mr. Pass-ed-Caring strode onto stage at the dot of 8:00pm.

    He was, he announced curtly, contacted to play for precisely 35 minutes and that was exactly what we would be getting. He proceeded into a half-hearted rendition of a cut from Virtuoso. Once the song was finished, the grumpy guitarist advised his soon-to-be former fans that he only had 30 more minutes to go before lazily playing his next tune.

    Between song interaction with the audience limited to speaking clock type announcements of how much time remained, Pass half-heartedly performed some ten or so songs and marched off stage without so much as a goodnight.

    In a gig going career dating back half a century, I have never seen a less gracious or more unprofessional performer.

    I have never played one of the man’s records in the 30-odd years since.

  2. Totally support Mike Love on this point (and probably this point only), people shouting out for songs all night is extremely tiresome, worse if it is a quieter acoustic show. I have even heard some idiots shouting for a song that has already been played!

    I have also heard some complaining about Van Morrison “He didn’t say a word to the audience all night”, if he sang great and the band played well then I don’t really care if he didn’t bother with any forced banter.

  3. Best stage based audience interaction I can recall hearing was when some twat lobbed a plastic pint glass onto the stage right in front of Malcolm and Bon three or four numbers into a stomping Accadacca gig I was privileged to attend. The thing bounced off the stage and somersaulted back past Phil Rudd’s ears over the drum riser. Angus cut the riffing, stomped to the microphone and loudly informed the rowdy element in the room something along the lines that if any idiot f***ers wanted to f***ing start that sort of f***ing nonsense, he and the boys would gladly meet them out the back after the gig and f***ing sort the f***ing c**ts out.

    This got a mighty, mighty cheer and a roar of appreciation, Angus slotted right back into the riff and the gig just got better and better.

    My ears subsequently took 3 days to recover. Charming in a deftly nip-it-in-the-bud fashion. Magnificent, in fact.

    • A Michael Chapman gig at Birmingham Town Hall.A photographer goes up to the front of the stage and is busy clicking.
      Chapman says ‘look at this idiot trying to photograph music.

    • I remember a review of the Heavy Metal Kids gig where a few bottles were thrown. Gary Holton picked a couple up and said “any more thrown bottles I’m going to start throwing them back, and let’s face it I can’t really miss”. No more bottlers.

  4. The worst on-stage behaviour I’ve seen was from the late Joe Cocker at a charity gig.

    The scene: a packed audience, many of them in their best bib and tucker, having forked over decent amounts for a good cause that now escapes me.

    Then our hero staggers onto the stage, quite obviously profoundly drunk. He might have been the drunkest man I have ever seen still on his feet. He then treated us to “songs” that would have been unrecognisable were it not for his top-notch band, who played the tunes as they were meant to be played while Joe bellowed like a half-cut walrus over the top. If he ever hit the right key, it was more from luck than judgement.

    It was many years ago and my memory is now shot to pieces, but I will always recall wondering whether the gig would climax with him falling off the stage and whether he would have even noticed.

    I’d like to say he gave us a telling off like Mike Love, but IIRC he never spoke (and probably couldn’t have anyway).

    Cheers, Joe.

    • While I wasn’t there to see (or catch) him, Mick Taylor was so pie-eyed he famously fell off the stage at Hong Kong’s Jazz Club in the early 1990s

  6. As years pass, I have more time for ‘grumpy’ performers calling out bad behaviour. My least favourite thing from a performer is over eager ‘sing the high bits for me’ microphone-pointing. No, you do it, we’re literally paying you to.

    At a recent Thomas Walsh show – a small, seated venue – a member of the audience was so wall-eyed with alcohol that people were looking at each other nervously before the show began. Unfortunately for the drunk chap and his mortified friends, a) he was sat on the front row and b) this was a Thomas Walsh gig. Thomas is a cheery soul, but brooks no messing and I have seen him mercilessly mock transgressors, from people going for a wee (upon their return), to sound engineers who add effects he didn’t ask for. Our refreshed friend got a concerned, if funny, ticking off and a less-than-gentle suggestion to go outside for some air. Ten minutes later, our man got up and dashed to the toilet (just to the rear of the back row), leaving the door open and exposing us all to his porcelain-echoed calls for Huey, Ralph and, finally, Jesus. Thomas did an impromptu version of one of his songs retitled ‘Don’t do back on the lager’ and confessed he’d never seen someone quite so incapable at a show – and he’s a recovering alcoholic from Dublin.

    • Yes, the microphone pointing. Something that’s boiled my piss for years.

      It’s always at the chorus or the best bit of the big hit, when you want the band to levitate. But no, the lead singer has to stop and point a hand mic at at thousands of non singers several yards away to let them ‘sing’ the bit you’ve all paid a lot of money to hear him do it.

      And if he cups his hand to his ear in a ‘I can’t hear you’ gesture well then my joy is complete.

      Stop stopping the fucking music for a crowd to kill it by bellowing for a while.

      • Counterpoint: Prince cupping his hand to his ear here, circa the 2 minute mark, is the best bit (which is high praise).

        That said, he does at least lead the singing. It’s not like anyone else was in danger of hitting that note unaided.

      • If you want to see a prime example of this, watch Lionel Richie at the Coronation concert. I really like the SYSMH but this was pretty much how it went down…

        “Hey I know y’all like this one….
        # I know it sounds funny but I just can’t stand the pain #
        …oh yeah, you know it…c’mon!
        # Girl I’m …# (mic to the audience) lemme hear ya! Woo!
        #tomorroooow #

        Wooh! We are all having a great time, huh? I know YOU are…(points and winks to audience).

        #seems to me # ….(mic to audience again as the music continues) lemme hear ya! Woo!

        Just sing the damn song under a spotlight at a piano.

      • The first person I saw letting the crowd do the singing was Springsteen (Thunder Road, Wembley, sometime in the late 1900s). He was also the first person I saw do the “get a girl/woman up to dance” (Courtney Cox) and the first person I saw do the “get a kid up to play guitar” (or something) that seems pretty fash these days. I’m not saying he was the first person to do these things, mind. (I’m more likely showing my ignorance.)

        • As further down there is mention of Billy Connolly and Jasper Carrot I’m reminded of another who started off in folk clubs, Fred Wedlock one of his lines involved accompanying the main act with ‘smoky bacon maracas and an e flat cash register’

          • Just saw this on a Morris page on Facebook.

            Apropos the recent discussion about unwanted percussion, I’m reminded of a ceilidh caller up here (North-East England) who used to invite non-participants to clap in time to the music, or if they preferred, to clap in time to the drummer.

      • I’d agree it can be lazy and become a cover for not being able to hit the high notes anymore. See Van Halen and the return of David Lee Roth. I saw Lynyrd Skynyrd in 2019 and when we finally got to “Freebird” it was mostly the crowd singing to a hat on a mic stand, as if the Ronnie Van Zant hadn’t already suffered enough. But at times the singalong element can work well – FLC’s “Scooby Snacks” springs to mind.

  7. I have detailed this on here before, but seeing Belle & Sebastian at the Ritz in Manchester many moons ago has always tempered my appreciation of the band somewhat.
    There were a few technical issues (1st night of the tour), but Stuart Murdoch scolded a female member of the band (over the mic) & told her to ‘Sit Down’ in a manner which made me think he is a helmet of the highest order.

    Opposite end of the spectrum would be Richard Hawley doing a acoustic show in New Mills. It was like being sat in his living room with him, he was warm, incredibly funny & I half expected him to offer me a cup of tea. It was a wonderful gig & just made me love him more.

  8. Maria McKee at Shepherd’s Bush Empire around the time of Life Is Sweet.

    She came on late, eyeballs on stalks. Played one song, someone in the audience shouted “show us yer tits”, she took off her Telecaster and threw it at his head, then stormed off.

    She did come back on, about half an hour later and played an absolute blinder. I missed the last train home. It was worth it.

    The support (Goya Dress) were excellent, as well.

    • It isn’t onstage (apologies for going off-piste), but it’s so good that I’m going to post it anyway.

      On the night Madonna gave her stunning performance of Like A Virgin at the VMAs (think it would have been 1984), Fred Schneider of the B-52s reported the following:

      “I went to the awards when Madonna did “Like a Virgin,” and Cher was there. I was excited to meet Cher. But some punk comes up to her and says, “Hey, Cher, where’s Sonny?” And without missing a beat, Cher goes, “He’s home, fucking your mother.” That’s the sort of story you remember.”

      What an absolute legend. Love Cher.

    • Ooh. I saw Goya Dress supporting Aimee Mann once, they were very good indeed, enough for me to buy the album.

      I was at the Garbage gig at Rock City not long ago, (checks, it was 2018) where Shirley apparently mixed painkillers and whisky during the show to the effect of her rambling all over the last couple of songs, especially Starman, by which time she was borderline incoherent. The band soldiered on…

      • Goya Dress were one of the few acts that Mrs F was as enthuasiastic about as I was, another being the frankly bonkers Morphine.

        During my short-lived showbiz career at the end of the 90s, I became good pals with GD’s manager. GD main woman Astrid Williamson (from Shetland) went solo, and recorded a couple of solo albums under the name Astrid, which would not have been a problem… had a band from the Hebrides, called, um, Astrid, not released their first album at the same time. It all got very confusing.

  9. A la Love, Don Fagen replied to a called out request at a Dan gig with “ we’ve been doing this for a while now and it seems to be going ok, so I think you should leave it to us” said with a somewhat contemptuous tone.
    Keith Jarrett wouldnt come back on demanding absolute silence. I get the improvisational inspiration required but the seats were squeaky and it was peak hayfever season. We all sat there frozen.
    Soul singer Renee Geyer after 2 songs was lying on the srage floor rambling to us. It was a show with a big band and at a top flight music recital hall ie expensive. Started to introduce but didn’t know/ forgot their names. After 30 minutes the show ended. People thought it was interval but nope folks – that’s all you are getting.

    • I’ve heard some artists say “we don’t do requests”. A good variant was by Jon Anderson when i saw Yes in 2001; “we get lots of requests, but we are going to carry on”. Very droll.

      • The Tull’s Ian Anderson to the audience: “What’s that? [Pause] Yes, we take requests. [Pause] Well, that’s lucky because it’s the only other one we know.” Cue Thick as a Brick…

      • At a Thea Gilmore gig she listened patiently while people shouted requests for the encore then said, ‘Those are all excellent suggestions, but we’re going to play something we’ve rehearsed if that’s OK with you.’

      • I think that may have been on the Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe tour. Anderson followed it up at the Wembley gig by saying “Rick always makes me say that” which rings true.

      • I went off Tim Booth when he announced to a festival crowd gathered under an absolute tipping downpour that James were going to play a greatest hits set since we’d “…earned it”. I went off him even more a couple of years later when he chided the folks down the front for not greeting the fourth track in a row from the new album with sufficient enthusiasm by suggesting that if we’d all looked up the set list on the internet before attending we’d know not to shout for.

    • It was the case that no one asked for requests for a while in the US as the response would always be “FREEEEBIRD” which is pretty funny actually.

  10. One of those Summer Evening In A Country House Park concerts. Crowd had paid shedloads to sit there as the sun sets and picnic whilst waiting for Van Morrison. He comes on stage at 8.30 with that stupid little saxophone of his. Thirty five, forty tops, minutes of songs 95% of the crowd didn’t know. As Van is audibly telling one of the band to “Play in the right key, fucker!” somebody shouts out “Brown Eyed Girl” . Grumpy waves his stumpy little arms around and stomps off stage never to reappear. It takes at least half an hour for the crowd to realise he ain’t coming back.

  11. The comment about Martin Stephenson makes me think that as time goes by we will see more acts change from music to storytelling I think. After all, Billy Connolly and Jasper Carrot started as singers of songs but ended up just with the comedy. China Crisis frontman Gary Daly is naturally a very funny man, as is Robbie Williams. With Robbie, he can’t do the pop star thing forever. Let’s fast forward 10 years and he could easily be hosting “an evening with …” type shows and could have him telling funny stories about the old days. Perhaps 6 songs over 90 minutes, just a small band. Perhaps Roger Walters could give it a go?

    • There has been a marked increase in these type of Acoustic Story Telling shows (particularly by those towards the end of careers, where a nice sit down and a chat is the order of the day).
      Seen Francis Rossi, Glen Matlock, and Dead Men Walking (Jame Burns, Segs & Ruffy from The Ruts, and Kirk Brandon) in recent times. All great nights.
      Also saw John Lydon doing his spoken word tour – again an entertaining evening.

      * all of the above I have seen in full on band mode, except Matlock, so it’s refreshing to see the character behind the stage persona

    • The thing is Robbie Williams would need to change a lot for that to work – he’s too insecure and needy to have the self-awareness and balance needed to look back on a rather hair-raising career and package into a nice evening’s anecdotes and songs. Maybe in a few decades time.

      I worked with him – via his ‘team’ – on a project the other year and, in our interactions, filtered through his team, he came across as being incredibly insecure, pompous and diva-ish.

      Now, his dad, that’s another matter. There used to be a night in Berlin called Ein Hit ist Ein Hit, a sort of monthly pop themed cabaret. The night Robbie played Berlin, Guy Chambers and most of the backing band/crew came down for a wonderful evening, topped off by old man Williams doing his talent night pub act, ‘Sweet Caroline’ singalongs, cheeky bants, etc. Was amazing

  12. A subtle one, but a gig-killer nonetheless.
    Smashing Pumpkins at Sydney’s Hordern Pavilion, post-peak fame years, but still rocking pretty hard and playing enough old to keep the crowd onside, but only just. After a particularly lukewarm response from the recent album, Billy asks the crowd “What? Would rather us play some INXS?” but he put the emphasis on “In-EX-cess”. To audible groans he followed with “I’m just trying to be nice”.

  13. Most of you will be aware of Frankie Boyle and his combative stage manner. In his autobiography he wrote that success meant his shows sold out early, and that in turn meant that his new audience were the sort of people organised enough to plan for a night out several months ahead. He claimed to regret losing the more chaotic crowds he used to perform for.

    He may have changed his mind since.

    We went to see him at the Leicester Square Theatre last year. He was, and still is, on a tour of bigger theatres but included a run of couple of weeks there. After the support act and the interval the house lights dimmed, Frankie started his routine and someone close to our seats shouted something. It was something supportive like, ‘Go Frankie!’ but it put him completely off his stride. He spent the next couple of minutes berating the section of the audience the shout had come from. ‘Speak up then! You’ve obviously got something to say if you had to shout it out in the first line of my fucking act!!’

    Not surprisingly that got no response and he carried on. Less than a minute later he said, ‘There will be a lot of politics in the show’, which was greeted with an appreciative whoop from near the back. Apparently that isn’t what he wanted to hear, because he ranted until the house lights came up, then stormed off stage shouting, ‘I’m might come back if we can get rid of all the CUNTS!!!’

    A man I assumed to be Frankie’s manager told us he would try to get him back, which he eventually did, but not to call out during the act. It was all very odd for a comedian who has made his name through pushing his audience and interacting with them, and claimed to miss the rowdier crowds of his earlier career.

    So remember, if you go to see Frankie Boyle don’t shout encouragement to him. He really doesn’t like it.

    • I’m very forgiving when it comes to a whole host of bar stewards in the music world.
      Little Walter, Larry Williams, Phil Spector, Ike Turner, Brian Jones, Chuck Berry… somehow I can cut some slack for all of them.
      However, Morrison really is surely the biggest piece of work there is and, while many would disagree, I don’t place him very high up the food chain in his chosen profession anyway.

        • Also, Morrison, a famously energetic performer giving of his all, was well known for repairing backstage (or behind a speaker stack) for refreshments, which explains his absences in the rather unperceptive and very uncharitable piece Junes links to. A glass of Lucozade, perhaps some Epsom Salts, and an invigorating neck rub soon “topped up the old batteries”!

  15. Went to see Frightened Rabbit athe 930 club in Washington.

    Scott Hutchison was a grumpy bastard all show. They played well, but he was being a bit of arse, to the point of deliberately pointing out that they weren’t going to play the usual show closer.

    Next show, about 18 months later, he opened with an apology to the audience before being a great frontman for the whole show.

  16. Steve Kilbey tells a great story about the Church, in their pomp, playing tough industrial Wollongong, Being a self important arsehole as he described himself , or something like that , he refused to play their number one hit, presumably Milky Way or Unguarded Moment. After they leave the stage a near riot ensues. Manager takes him by the scruff and instructs him to get the fuck back out there.
    Kilbey, somewhat chastened, heads back out and plays the hit.

  18. This actually got a loud cheer from the audience but one of the assembled throng would shudder if he remembers this exchange. I was watching The Johnny’s at the Prince of Wales in Melbourne and in mid song this tool climbed on the stage and stood directly in front of Spencer Jones as he sung. It must have been very unnerving to be forced to sing directly into this idiot’s eyes. When the song was over Spencer made a sweeping gesture towards the rest of the crowd and said, “I want to see all my friends out there…not you you shot-off pig’s head” He got down instantly.

  19. Most contempt for audience award goes to … may I have the envelope … Ray Davies! Early seventies show, when they basically didn’t have any memorable recent songs but played them all anyway, punctuated by “hilarious” false starts of You Really Got Me and Waterloo Sunset, met initially with huge cheers, only to get get choked a couple of bars in, Ray sneering at the audience. This trick got old pretty quickly, and met with boos and “fuck offs!” from the crowd. What an absolute twat.

    Best audience interaction: John Martin, especially if you were in the front row.

  20. I know they were operating exactly on the cusp of when audiences went from sitting on the floor to standing up, but it’s surprising how many times bootlegs of The Who start with Pete Townshend telling the audience to “Sit down!”. I’m sure a few years later, he’s equally keen for them to get up.

      • I naturally applaud the gag but, seriously, I really can’t be arsed with gigs. I find that, generally, the people around me are far more ill-mannered than anyone I’ve ever seen onstage. I suppose most of my rock heroes were probably idiots and berks in ‘real’ life anyway and I don’t need that reinforced by public performance. I will, however, stretch to the occasional live album. Good sound, nobody yelling out next to me, no beer in plastic glasses, no suffering the ‘new stuff’ when all I want are 6 songs from their debut album. You get my drift.

        • After many years as a regular gig-goer, I largely feel the same. I haven’t been to a gig for maybe 2 years, and I can’t see myself going to one again any time soon. True, that’s partly for health reasons, but it’s also because it all feels like too much hassle: the difficulty getting hold of a ticket for a decent price, transport issues, and bad behaviour from those around me.

          I have a short bucket list of acts I’d really like to see, but other than them I’m mostly happy to leave gigs to those who will appreciate them more. More power to them.

          • I feel the same about most ‘big name’ gigs – initial interest that ‘so-and-so’ is playing in Dublin, then when I stop to think about it – the time and expense, the constant chatter from the audience and, if it’s seated, the multiple times someone is going to want to squeeze past with a few drinks from the bar and then disturb me again after twenty minutes so he/she can make their way to the toilets, with a genial “bet you’re sorry you sat in this row!” as they pass by as if there was something fucking amusing about it – in the end I will probably not bother. I’m a right ray of sunshine, amn’t I?
            But I’m lucky to live near a good medium-sized venue and I’ve got three gigs coming up – Tim O’Brien and Jan Fabricius (with guests), John Spillane and then the wonderful Sara McQuaid – all gigs where I’m pretty confident the audience will be appreciative and respectful.

        • There are certain types of rock acts who, through no fault of their own, probably, attract audiences that cannot behave themselves. If you don’t mind that, then off you go and enjoy your gig. If you object to that sort of behaviour then best not go. Either approach is fine.
          There are of course people who, having got a drink or several in them, cannot behave no matter where they are. They are c**ts. Try to avoid them but recognise that’s not always possible.

          • I suppose the ‘bottom line’ is that, for me, it’s all about the records and I’m not particularly interested in seeing my favourite artists live. They never sound as good as the records. I have been to a few gigs in my time of course but I never felt that the experience added anything to my general appreciation of that particular artist or band. I always reckoned that an 80 quid ticket could be better spent on second hand vinyl or a nice re-issue.

    • I was at a festival some years back. The Fall were playing immediately before Foy Vance. When his set started, Mr Vance went immediately to the microphone and informed the crowd that “Mark E Smith is a fucking dickhead”. I would love to know what happened backstage in that half hour.

        • I’m minded to go on the Mighty Fall Facebook group (grüppe?) and ask about this. Someone will know.

          But it’s a fierce place. My first post on it got an album tour date wrong and I’ve never really recovered.

          • I actually contributed to The Annotated Fall once. It was to inform people that The Premature Burial was going to be on TV that week… my contribution to the epic saga of the Spectre Vs Rector controversy, soon to be dramatised in 20 parts on Netflix.

            “The Saga of the Spectre Vs Rector Saga”

            I’ll probably be played by Eddie Marsan.

    • Oh sorry, I wasn’t aware that I’m supposed to give the contributors a friendly pat on the back – I’m just enjoying the stories here…

      But here’s another one from Mike Love: »Hey you dummy who just called out for Sloop John B – that was the first song we played tonight! What an idiot…« He then proceeded to advertise the local Trancendental Meditation center so we could all learn to relax and love one another.

  24. The Looe Festival, with Bryan Ferry headlining. On the night in question, it was absolutely pissing it down – thankfully the stage was on the beach, so no mud, but everyone was soaked through by the time Ferry was due on stage. Understandably, due to the weather, there was a delay, but most people stuck with it and stayed. Eventually the man himself comes on…not a word to the bedraggled throng, no ‘thanks for waiting around’ or ‘hope you are all ok’…nada. The whole set was by the numbers, and then he pissed off back to his hotel.

    Speaking of his hotel – I went in there the following day to ask about staying there for the next year’s festival and was told it was reserved for the artists. ‘Oh, did Bryan Ferry stay here then?’ An eye roll from the receptionist, who then vouchsafed that he insisted on not being spoken to, having his table in the restaurant screened off, and was generally a pain in the arse. We heard subsequently that there were other examples of his bumptiousness that weekend.

    Mrs. T was so outraged that I can’t now play anything by him without her pulling a face and her commenting yet again on the whole unpleasant affair.

  25. 16th June 1974, Guildford Civic Hall.

    I wish I could find who the support act was as I assume it was them I went to see.

    This was Silverhead’s first, (and last,) headline tour and their record company, Purple Records, had splashed a few quid on posters and interviews in the music-press. Lead singer, (and legend in his own lunchbox,) Michael Des Barres had given an interview to the NME where he had bad-mouthed anyone and everyone, taking pot-shots at many of my favourite bands. I took agin him, big time.

    Let’s just say, the hype was on.

    I remember going back into the hall from the bar, post support act, and wondering where everyone was. I swear there were less people in their seats than had been earlier.

    We’d been called back in from the bar by the ten-minute and then the five-minute bells. Yet, fifteen minutes later, the lights were still up. There was no music playing over the p.a so we sat there in a mumbled silence. After twenty minutes, someone started a slow handclap. It picked up volume and a few voices sang, “Why are we waiting.” A few people went back to the bar, (or left.) A further five minutes passed and there were a few angry voices from the dwindling audience. By the time the lights went down I reckon the hall was less than half full.

    A guy came onstage and grabbed the central mic-stand. He yelled some nonsense about ‘finally’, (yes, mate, finally,) ‘Guildford is ready,’ (what? It’s Guildford, mate,) ‘the greatest rock band in the world,) (oh, do fuck off,) ‘SILVERHEAD!!!’

    Four shapes shuffled onto the darkened stage, (one of who I now know was Robbie Blunt, ex Bronco and later in Planty’s 80’s band,) and launched into a riffy rock number, (I believe it was Ace Supreme.)

    After the bass and drums came in and they had gone round twice more, there were nervous glances to the wings. The musicians ‘went around’ again, and then again. Perhaps this was an instrumental? Finally a fifth shape appeared and a spotlight operator struggled to keep up with it as it rushed across the stage, then rushed back again.

    Michael Des Barres had graced us with his presence.

    He began to sing but his voice was so loud in the mix that he drowned out the band. Several people in the row in front of me put their hands over their ears, several others left.

    The first song ended to muted applause as the guitars began the second number. MDB screamed into the mic again and I saw a couple of people waved away from the mixing desk as they protested about the volume. More people left.

    MDB was now bare chested, eye-liner beginning to run as he tore around the stage. The second song finished to a few unenthusiastic claps.

    The singer demanded that the house lights go up and the sudden illumination froze the scene in my brain.

    Several people were heading for the exits. Several more were getting out of their seats. The place was a sea of empty seats, including the whole of the front row. The band started the third song and, with the lights still up, the singer jumped off the front of the stage. He climbed onto the arms of two of the front row flip-seats and began to berate the ‘crowd.’

    “Where you going, fuckers?” “C’mon, fuckers, get on your feet and boogie!”

    Several more people around me got up and left, their seats banging angrily as they got up. One guy stood in front of MDB, flicking the V’s at him before heading for the exit.

    In time with the beat, Des Barres yelled “C***s”, “C***s”, “C***s”.

    I left.

    I discovered next day that the band had completed a 45-minute set to around 20 people. The gig made the Surrey Advertiser with the manager of the Civic Hall stating that the band would not be invited back.

    He needn’t have worried. Silverhead split up three weeks later.

    (My favourite rock film is not Spinal Tap but Still Crazy. I swear that there’s a bit of Des Barres in Bill Nighy’s brilliant portrayal of the singer, Ray Simms.)

  26. One memorable gig moment from the early 90’s sticks in my mind, I was with a mate at a John Martyn gig in London being filmed for Scandinavian TV and we were right at the front, literally leaning on the stage. This being the olden days it was still OK to smoke in venues and knowing the headiness of the gig to come we had prepared several large spliffs for our personal pleasure. We lit up as John came on stage and merrily puffed away passing the joint back & forth between us, it was after about ten minutes into the show and John stops his song mid-way and gets up off his stool and walks over to us and to be honest we really thought he was going to be a bit pissed at us, but not at all. “Gimme that” he demanded, we meekly handed over the joint thinking uh oh this is being filmed we’re fucked. On the contrary, he goes back to his stool finishes the song puffing away on our spliff and when the song finished leaned back towards the audience leaning against the stage and passes it on to a chap standing a couple of feet away from us who also took a good few hits and then quite kindly handed it back to my friend who was standing nearest to him. I always hoped that there would still be footage of this somewhere out there but have never seen it and can only assume I wasn’t so stoned I dreamt the whole incident!

    • I have recounted previously about a friend waiting for a John Martyn show , smoking a spliff out front. Up pulls a taxi and this dishevelled pissed bloke falls out.
      I was at the same show and it was perfectly satisfactory.

  27. It strikes me reading these stories that the more serious, fashionable and critically acclaimed the artist is, the more likely you’re going to get some bad behaviour.

    Thus why you never get this sort of thing at Heavy Metal gigs. You can’t imagine Brian Johnson or Rob Halford demanding that the audience shuts up and LISTENS or they’re going to cancel the show.

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