b3ta.com qotw
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Bad gigs » Page 4 | Search
This is a question Bad gigs

Been to see some talentless gits on stage recently? Had your enjoyment spoiled by a twat with an iPad filming the whole thing? Been bottled off? Tell us all

(, Thu 25 Jul 2013, 14:00)
Pages: Popular, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Went to see Red Hot Chili Peppers last year.
One of the support bands were called The Wombats. Check them out on Youtube, they are absolutely shite. Worse than dubstep.

They played what they said was their last song, then told us they were going to play one more. My mate shouted, "But you fucking promised it was the last song!" Then stormed off to the bar.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 17:00, 16 replies)
Wulfrun Hall 1990s some shit indie band.
A smallish chap approaches me as the largest bloke in the vicinity and signals he'd like a leg up to crowd surf. I heaved him right the fuck up in the air just as the crowd parted like the Red Sea. I offered to help his mates carry him to first aid. But not from the head end where all the blood was spurting from.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 16:22, 3 replies)
I once saw a tribute act called Enter Shibari
They were pretty ropey.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 16:08, 3 replies)
Had a few
First gig with a rock/funk band - the drummer was so pissed he kept losing his drumsticks during the songs. After that experience he promised never to drink again before a gig, plus had extra drumsticks positioned handily around his kit.

Another gig we had a drum podium. Our singer thought it would be cool to start the gig by leaping off the podium with a scream - unfortunately he kicked over the drumkit at the same time.

We played support band to someone or other at an outdoor gig - big lights shining in our faces, couldn't see what was going on other than that there was an audience lining the stage front. And it was bloody freezing: I ended up wearing a cardigan which isn't very rock 'n' roll. When the lights went off after our bit we saw that there was one row of people standing by the stage trying to keep warm in the lights, and everyone else had pissed off to the hotdog stands waiting for the main event.

Then there was the time the foldback was non-existent and I only realised after the first number that I'd been playing in a different key to everyone else.

Thought we'd hit it big when we played at a decent venue in London, but got disenchanted when I walked into the bogs to find the singer of another band on the bill shooting up. Guess I was a bit naive, but I decided around then that this wasn't the life for me. Became an engineer instead. Almost as exciting.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 15:35, 1 reply)
I ruined someone's gig
A few weeks back I took my mum to go and see Leonard Cohen at the O2 on her birthday. It was a Friday night and I'd had a bad day at work, so upon arrival I kind of hit the bar pretty hard and by the end of the first half I was a little drunk, but within acceptable parameters. Now I fucking love Leonard Cohen as much as any man can love another man, and as the second half began I was having a whale of a time, my work problems forgotten and singing along to all the classics (even the French bits during the Partisan) with gusto. Probably aplomb as well, or at least the verbal equivalent.

Then, about halfway through the second half, the female portion of the couple sitting in front of me turned around and shouted: "Will you just shut the fuck up?" Since she had asked so nicely, I smiled and very carefully formed the words that precisely summed up my feelings at that point: "Kiss. My. Arse."

She looked at her partner, who shrugged and went back to watching the show. Then, in exasperation, she went to try and find a bouncer to throw me out for singing along at a concert. Having got short shrift there as well, she stood in the aisle for the rest of the show. Her boyfriend didn't even leave his seat.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 15:17, 30 replies)

(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 14:23, 3 replies)
Went to see New Model Army in Wolverhampton.
They were good. But my girlfriend broke up with me halfway through Here Comes The War. Which made the rest of the evening a bit depressing.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 14:09, 7 replies)
Bad comedy gigs
I go to comedy gigs a lot more often than I go to music so they'll have to do.

20 years ago, I lived in Acton, round the corner from the Kings Arms pub in the High Street. At the time, they used to run a comedy club upstairs every Friday night - the Acton Banana - and I think in two years of living there I missed perhaps four or five gigs. It was great - you'd see all kinds of comics that now only get out of bed to do BBC2 panel shows - Phill Jupitus, for instance.

There was this one guy called "Ian Cognito" (I'm guessing that's just a stage name). He'd pop up once every four or five months, and every time, he start off quite funny, then start to get a few drunken heckles.

The first time I saw this, Cognito just started calling them a cunt a lot. His put-downs were basically variants of "shut up, you cunt". And, since the heckler was so obviously rubbing him up te wrong way, and the gig was slipping out of his grasp, he got more an more frustrated and start whining about people not appreciating his art. The heckling continued for a minute or two; I think one or two other people even joined in. And then, halfway into his set, Ian Cognito flounced.

The MC had to come back on, early, and pad out the evening with more of their own material, before the headliner (usually a Jupitus or Thomas or someone of that ilk) came on.

The next time I saw him, it was after several months, so - having seen 30 or so other stand-ups in the meantime - I'd forgotten the last gig. Until someone heckled Mr Cognito, he spent a minute calling them a cunt, the audience began to laugh at him for so obviously and easily losing his cool, he began wailing that he wasn't appreciated, and he'd get so flustered that he flounced halfway through his set and the MC... etc.

The third time, as well as wondering why the bookers had taken him on again after two disastrous gigs, and how on earth his agent had managed to find good reviews in Time Out and the Evening Standard to put on his publicity, I went in again more to see if he'd have another meltdown. And he did. And again the next two times I saw him.

Fast forward about 15 years. I'm now living in Swindon, and the boom in standup comedy in the noughties meant that three or four pubs in town had begun doing monthly comedy club nights. Clearly, the boom also meant that pretty much the whole London club circuit was being bussed out to the sticks to supplement their tour calendars; a familiar name appeared on the promo posters for the night I was going. Hmm. Ian Cognito. I'm sure I remember him for something. Maybe he was just really funny?

Nope. After a supporting bill of three or four West-of-England comics, all of whom were perfectly serviceable, was the top-of-the-bill, direct from That London, please give it up for Mister. Ian. COGNITO...

Yay. Applause. A drunk woman heckled him from two rows in front of me. He called her a cunt a few times, abandoning some well-crafted observational comedy for abuse from a particularly foul-mouthed playground. It all started to come back to me. I remember now. True to form, his foul-mouthed mean-spiritedness lost the audience's goodwill. A few other hecklers joined in. He started grumbling and cursing about how we were peasant unworthy of his art, with some (for him) new material about how all the other comedians from his London youth were cunts for selling out and doing telly panels shows while he was still toiling away at the coalface of comedy for the purity of the art.* Then he flounced, and the MC had to come back on...

*Nothing to do with him being a highly-strung twerp who couldn't handle more than a tiny bit of pressure without calling everyone in the room a cunt and flouncing when they don't think that's very funny.

Others of note

Janeane Garofalo at Latitude Festival 2009. Her few two gags died a death, and she was clearly jet-lagged (or stoned or both) so couldn't summon the nimbleness of mind to adapt her material for people who'd stopped thinking gags about tampon commercials were funny around 1990 when everyone else with a microphone was doing the same ones. She floundered, and then flounced, but at least had the decency to look like she knew it was her fault and not ours. I even felt a little sorry for her. The overall effect was saved, hugely, by Ed Byrne, who came on almost an hour earlier than planned, filled the time she was meant to have, and carried on into his own spot, and was funny from start to finish.

Oh, and there was some dumb-assed Northerner called Rob Unmemorable-BBC3-Sitcom (or something) who was top of the bill at Jesters in Bristol four years ago. At the age of 42, I was on a non-date with a 26-year-old woman and he was so unfunny, we ended up conspiratorially laughing at him. This worked well enough for both of us (it was her first comedy gig ever) that I ended up sleeping with her, which did my middle-aged ego no end of good. So I can't really say it was such a terrible gig, since it helped me get my end away. Thanks Rob, for being so hilariously shit.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 14:07, 8 replies)
Muddy Sweetness
Went to see Mud and Sweet many moons ago at our local assembly rooms -probably the early 1990's.
Mud didn't turn up and were replaced by The Glitter Band (minus the nonce of course) - they were pretty shit.
Oh well we thought at least Sweet should be (ahem) good.
Oh fucking deary me.
Brian Connolly (I can't even be bothered to google to find out if that's his name)was a joke.
Off his face, couldn't string 2 words together.
In the end after one or two fucked up songs that we vaguely recognised, the rest of the band decided to switch his mike off and sing the rest of the gig themselves.
He was so wasted he actually believed we could hear him and that nothing was wrong. He merrily mumbled and stumbled his way (silently to us) through all the numbers.
And bowed at the end like he though he had given us some sort of epic performance.
What a useless cunt.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 13:57, 4 replies)
1977, saw The Carpenters in Blackpool with my step-dad and I was made to wear a dress.
Nuff said.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 13:49, 3 replies)
I booed a crap warm-up band
Went to see Little Richard play at the Alhambra, Bradford, in the early 60's. Wanted to hear "Good Golly Miss Molly" etc.

There was a really uninteresting warm-up band, who couldn't raise anyone's enthusiasm. I and most of the audience booed them in the hope they'd go off early, so we could see the Man Who Really Knew How to Do Rock.

They were the Rolling Stones.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 13:25, 8 replies)
Die Antwoord
Saw them last year and they were awesome, pretty much on a level with The Prodigy (although the massive drugs may have helped).

Saw them this year at Brixton Academy and they were shit. They had a ‘support act’ which consisted of a bad DJ and two bad rappers, which I suspect was really some sort of postmodern hipster joke intended to point out that what Die Antwoord do does require talent and effort, but the joke went on far too lIng and was irritating as fuck.

Then when they finally came on after what seemed like Axl Rose levels of delay, the sound quality was all to cock (the bass was either not there at all or overpowering to the point you couldn't hear anything else - for an electronic, techno-styled band this means that the bass was basically going WHOOOOOMMM repeatedly at the tempo of the song), they didn't seem like they were arsed and they only played for about fifty minutes.

I always knew they were a novelty band with an inherently limited shelf-life, but it seems they've gone off quicker than I expected.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 13:22, Reply)

(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 13:01, 7 replies)
A mate who is a roadie and stage crew kind of chap in Vancouver
has worked with and seen just about everyone perform at some time, from the awful to the awesome.

His latest highlight was watching people who had somewhat unbelievably payed $1000 (that's more than 600 of your Uk moneys) a ticket to see, and this still makes my head hurt; New Kids On The Block, observe the entire show through their cellphones while carefully not dancing to keep the video steady.
I can only imagine this somehow made the experience better for them.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 12:49, Reply)
I went to see Gallows a couple of years ago and the crowd was a bit youthful
so when I saw a bloke closer to my age at the bar I struck up a conversation. So what brought you to a yoof gig? Oh right. You're one of the support act's Dad and you've given him a lift.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 12:37, 5 replies)
Fiendflug - EuroRock, Belgium
Mortifying. Pretending to play live, but there was just a CD playing, they were obviously miming.
As their CD kept skipping.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 12:33, Reply)
Massive Attack, Hammersmith Apollo
My friend and I sat upstairs, on the stairs as all the seats were full, and many people were doing the same.

It was mainly their new stuff (at the time), and then they played Angel.

Cracking song. Building.


Building up, building ...

Just at the Loveyouloveyouloveyouloveyou some prick with four pints and a skinhead "SORRY LADS MIND IF I SQUEEZE THROUGH THERE?", spilling his beer all over us messily.

(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 12:22, 4 replies)
"We regret to inform you that Pop Will Eat Itself will not be able to perform, as their hard disc has crashed."

Howls of derisive laughter ensued
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 12:04, 9 replies)
Not mine and no-one I know even got to see them play.
A number of years ago the skinny, old wrinkleys from that once famous 'gathers no moss' band played a large stadium close to where my mum used to live.
The stadium is located in a fairly swanky, old money suburb.
As an appeasement to the local residents - to try to make up for the noise pollution and traffic hassles the promoter gave 2 free tickets to the concert away to all the residents within a certain radius of the venue. Suffice to say my mum's house was within that radius.
Now my mum had seen these guys play in the 60's in London and didn't have the taste for dinosaur flesh that seems to provide them with sold out concerts. So she decided to sell them to her workmates at the uni she lectured at at the "going price".
In the end she sold them half-price - not for lack of interest but she didn't feel right charging her workmates over AU$200 per ticket.

The day after the gig my mum spoke to the lucky lady asking what it was like. Imagine my mum's surprise when the lady (quite honestly) told her that they'd scalped the tickets out the front on the night for 6 times what they'd paid my mum. That's right - AU$600 per ticket to see The Rolling Stones, some of the filthiest, richest members of the 'rock' fraternity whose last 'hit' was charting decades ago and whose children are probably old enough to draw a pension.

Since mum heard most of the gig, if there are any RS aficionados out there - they sounded like shit.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 11:56, 3 replies)
Jazz Odyssey

(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 11:49, 1 reply)
Amy McDonald
Actual gig was superb. It threatened to be rubbish though as I was sat next to a large Lambrini-fuelled troglodyte who informed me "she saved all her dole money, didn't go to the pub for TWO WHOLE MONTHS, because she cared so much for Amy".

First song came, she cracked open a bottle of Magners (which was odd, as the bar only served Bulmers) security removed her. No refunds.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 11:48, 4 replies)
Load up on guns and kill everyone in sight
It was 1993, and I was boooooored. But a venue nearby was going to showcase three up-and-coming local bands, and in the absence of anything else to do, I pootled along. After all, there was an outside chance that I'd get to witness one of those legendary "before-they-were-famous" gigs that journalists and DJs in their late forties pretend they attended.

It turned out that "up-and-coming" meant "very young". I suppose that there comes a point in any gig-going life when you accept the probability that you're older than at least some of the people on stage - and that night, I reached that point. The pisser was that I hadn't even sat my GCSEs. Clearly the people running the venue had found themselves without a booking that evening, and asked their nephew if he had a band, or if any of his mates did.

Being about 14, they hadn't actually had time to learn how to write a song - or to have done anything worth singing about. You can write a song about your heart breaking: about your voice breaking? Not so much. Each band's set was, accordingly, about 20% dreadful own material, with the remainder being bad cover versions of bog-standard indie hits of the early '90s.

Thinking about it, the quality of the gig can be summed up like this: the number of bands on the bill that night was smaller than the number of amateurish renditions of Smells Like Teen Spirit that they played.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 11:29, Reply)
Chicks on Speed
Chicks on Speed supported Red Hot Chilli Peppers in Hyde Park with James Brown.

They were one of those shitty arty concept bands.

After being on 2 hours or so late they came on and pronounced that they were chicks on speed and uttered their shrill slogan WE DONT PLAY GUITARS.

Yes you also didnt expect to have bottles of urine thrown at you either did you.

I took this video of what happened after about the 3rd song.


They went off after that and their banner was torn down to great applause. Their greatest mistakes were a) Jeering back at the HOT crowd who were forced to wait hours and b) THROWING stuff back at the crowd
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 11:24, 2 replies)
I went to see Mindless Self Indulgence about 5 years ago.
It was great until the point where Jimmy Urine produced a fuckload of calpol and proceeded to fling it all over the crowd.*

I don't remember much after everyone turning into a turnip.

*Everything up to this point is true
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 11:02, 3 replies)
St. Germain Brixton Academy 2001
A plate of utter pseudo jazz/dance wank, thank Christ it was a free ticket.
Gave it an hour; won't get that back.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 10:49, Reply)
while back played in open-air orchestra-fireworks extravacrappa
Comes the '1812', pyrotechnics swooshing up up up; "...datta da da da da da da DA du duhhh..." ...Boombang, oooh... aaah... etc.

Large THUD on the stage about a yard from the conductor - part of a spent firework casing, about a foot long with 1/2 inch thick, very hard and dense plastic, like a sewer pipe.

That was our last fireworks extravacrappa.
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 10:24, Reply)
Schoolboy error
Many years ago, I was waiting for Hawkwind to come on. The support band were, as is traditional, utter shite. It was not going well, partly because their style wasn't so much playing their songs as switching them on and waiting for them to finish - but mainly because they were shite. Their smoke machine had malfunctioned, obscuring them from view for some time, which was quite amusing, but the tumbleweed silences that greeted the end of every song must have been disheartening.

They decided, in the strange logic of the desperate, that the best idea to get the hostile crowd on their side was to attempt a cover of the main band's most famous hit, Silver Machine. If there's a rule book for support bands, Rule 1 should be "Never ever play a crap 'interpretation' of the song that most of the audience are waiting to hear from the headliners, or you'll get bottled off the stage".
(, Fri 26 Jul 2013, 10:05, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

Pages: Popular, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1