played a gig in a squated house where there was a concrete drum raiser with a hole the size of a fist or so in the middle of it. the headline drummer placed the drum kit right next to the hole. while playing the drums were creeping forward and turning away everytime i would hit the kick and at some point the pedal fell in the hole as the kick turned away and dislodged from the clamp. luckily it was near the end of the song so no harm done. but i finally had enough of it and put part of a rail track they had there infront to keep the kick in place :)
 
Summer of '67, aka Summer of Love....touring the midwest US in a rock band....the memory
is we had groupies!!!!!
 
My last gig we were playing The Girl From Ipanema. On the B section I use sticks and brushes on the A. It was the last time playing the B section and as I switched to the brushes the stick fell and got wedged between my foot and the snare stand and I could use my bass foot without knocking over the snare. I just finished the song with a huge shit eating grin on my face.
 
I've had my throne snap in half mid song. It was a cheap throne; I felt it was loose at the beginning of the song. It kept feeling looser and looser as I played, so I decided I HAD to stand up (while playing)

hahaha had the same thing happen to me at a gig years ago. Stupid cheap thrones. Label states "Maximum Load 180 pounds" and I was 115 sopping wet at the time.

I also have the "it ain't over til I say it's over" determination and stood up to finish out the song. After a quick search around the hall, we found two old milk crates that I used as my throne to finish the set. There were so many squares pressed into my butt after playing, you could play chess.
 
i have ten million. here's one, one of the rare "family friendly" ones:
playing in a very popular socal cover band at a new year's party (many decades ago). this was a private party at a business owner's house. we had played parties for him before, and he was a wannabe drummer, always asking to sit in, and me saying no. he was a thrasher. anyway, this party was at his house, and when we got there to set up, there was a drumset already set up on stage (he was obviously planning on accompanying us). i delicately moved his drums behind the curtain at the back of the stage, and we got set up, sound checked, and ready to go. the evening was pretty typical for a private party played by this band, that is to say, completely outta control. the guy must have forgotten his plan, as the feared "man behind the curtain" never materialized. BUT WAIT! on one of our last songs for the night, there arose a din, yes, from behind the curtain. a clanking, clattering cacophony of drum and cymbal noises. i wouldn't call it drumming. i stopped playing, and let him just take over. our bass player was the first to notice something was desperately wrong. he turned to me with a curious, disgusted look on his face. i could read his lips. "what the...". he turned to see me, with arms folded, shaking my head and laughing. i waved sweetly, and blew him a kiss.
 
To continue with my "never say die" theme, I was at a gig, summer after my junior year of high school. My cymbals were crappy B8's, used and beat to hell, but they worked (for the most part). Well, they were cracking around the edge and I still played them because they honestly didn't sound much worse than brand new. I was a poor high school student, and couldnt buy great cymbals.

Well to get to the point, a little piece of the edge (of my main crash) where it was cracking had become stuck under the rest of the cymbal and it resulted in the cymbal being choked about 30 seconds into the song. When I quit playing for a little bridge part, I reached over to attempt to free the piece that was stuck and succeeded just in time to come back into the song. It didn't take long for my thumb to start hurting and to notice it was bleeding uncontrollably. I had cut into it about a quarter inch deep and about 3/8" long. It was bad.

I bled and bled and bled some more. I finished out the song in so much pain and was very lightheaded after bleeding all over my kit. The crowd was in awe wondering what the hell they just witnessed. Hell, my bandmates couldn't believe what just happened. Our lead singer looks back at me, points and screams my name. The crowd proceeded to go crazy, and I don't think anyone, including myself, was too concerned about my well being. I was caught up in the moment, and just basked in the feeling (maybe I was about to faint or something). Then I was rushed to have my thumb fixed up and I still have a scar to reminisce on about the moment.

I'll post pictures when I get home tonight, if any of you want to see the murder scene.

Crappy gear, and I know the blanket shouldn't be there, but I was making do with what I could afford at the time.
 

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Last wednesday night we played this cute outdoor art festival that happens once a month downtown. We were playing "Cissy Strut" when this dude in a suit and tie walks up to us with a soprano saxophone. He waits his turn and proceeds to blow the hell out of the rest of the tune, and then.... he sprinted away! We had been thinking about bringing on a sax player and auditioned one that wasn't so hot. This guy had it though. We tried to get his number, his name, anything, but he was off as soon as the horn left his mouth. Must have been on a gig of his own that he had to get back to.
 
A friend of mine asks me to do a wedding reception that he had double booked himself for. As I had nothing going on that day, and he was a good friend, I said ok. So I pack up my kit and head to a " coon hunters club " in the middle of nowhere. Seriously. Well we set up and try to find some toons we all know, ( never played with these guys before ), and everyones coming in so we start playing. Third song, a fight breaks out at the back of the room. By the end of the song, everyones in a pile ( bride in her wedding dress, groom in tux), everybody. So after an uncomfortable lull, the fight breaks up, ( admist shouts of I'm coming back with my gun !! ). The mother of the bride tells us we're done and may want to get going before anything untoward happens. We pack up quick as sh** an beat it out of there. Heading down the road, the guitar player waves me over to a gas station. As we sit there laughing about what just happened, I say something about not getting paid. The guitar player hands me 100 and says, we got paid up front, that's why I waved you over !
 
Third song, a fight breaks out at the back of the room. By the end of the song, everyones in a pile ( bride in her wedding dress, groom in tux), everybody. So after an uncomfortable lull, the fight breaks up, ( admist shouts of I'm coming back with my gun !! ). The mother of the bride tells us we're done and may want to get going before anything untoward happens. We pack up quick as sh** an beat it out of there. Heading down the road, the guitar player waves me over to a gas station. As we sit there laughing about what just happened, I say something about not getting paid. The guitar player hands me 100 and says, we got paid up front, that's why I waved you over !

Hahaha! Ever follow up to see if they're divorced now? I kid... somewhat.

Always great to get paid up front, then you don't have to chase any sly guy around asking for your money.
 
About a year ago a band I was in played at a fairly rough bar out in the sticks. The gig was packed and lively. After the second song of the third (final) set a good size brawl breaks out in the back of the room. It turns out one of the combatants had hooked up with a local woman the previous week and was telling folks that it had been like 'having sex with a waterbed'. She seemed to take exception to this, (although she was kinda large). No lives were lost.
 
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