Eldritch Doppler Effect
Being a classical wonk, I never really go to non-classical gigs - I've been to two of them in my life (Indochine at the Zenith in Lille and Lenny Kravitz at the Brixton Academy) and both of them were excellent. I've done a largish number of classical gigs over the years, though, mostly as a performer, and some of them did not go according to plan.

Top marks for crapness so far go to the miniature concert my university college choir gave before an important dinner. The rich and dusty guests had all filed in and taken their places like wax gargoyles contemplating their steaming bread rolls and crystal port glasses. We, the choir, were standing on the balcony, in the manner of minstrels and virginal spinet players. Rather than singing in rows as we usually did, however, we were all arranged in a single line from one end of the balcony to the other, in order to provide the unplugged version of a wall of sound. Maybe a net curtain of sound.

Whenever a choir sings a cappella*, the conductor will usually fish a tuning fork or pitch pipe out of his pocket and quietly hum the starting note before the music starts. Our conductor, stood at the far right-hand edge of the balcony, duly hummed the tonic note for the piece we were about to sing and made hand signals to the effect that the note was to be passed down the line. Some people instantly worked out their own starting note in the chord, different from the base note, and sang that instead to get a confident start. By the time the note got from the right-hand side of the balcony to the left-hand side, it had shifted an entire major third in pitch, with the result that, when the conductor gave the signal, the choir started singing in two different keys at the same time.

Instant unease broke over us, as if we'd been carrying a carton of juice upstairs to the bedroom for breakfast in bed and had discovered halfway up the stairs that the juice was leaking, so we didn't know whether to keep going and put it down on the tray on the bed, or turn round and go back to the kitchen to clean up first. Since neither side knew which note was the right one, we sang the entire piece in two different keys. Below us, fogey eyebrows twitched. Bowels churned and expressions curdled. Our conductor looked at us with an expression halfway between horror and hilarity, and gamely led us to the end of the piece.

Grace was said, dinner was eaten and the pub was retired to, at which point the conductor went into full-on John Sitton mode for about ten minutes. We didn't do any more concerts in that formation.

* With pasta
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 10:38, 16 replies)

'net curtain of sound'
like the cheaper versions of the bose sound systems that HMV used to sell.
(magictorch, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 10:45, closed)

Not familiar with those, but probably.

( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 10:48, closed)

"virginal spinet players"
I always thought that virginals and spinets were different, so I read this as "spinet players who were virgins"... a little TMI, in that case!

Wikipedia set me right.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 11:32, closed)

That was actually the spirit in which it was intended.
Subconscious mediaeval keyboard instrument puns - Tuesday wouldn't be complete without them.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 11:36, closed)

I have no idea what any of that means, but it sounds JOLLY SAUCY, you lucky devil!

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 12:16, closed)

'Twas a veritable spontaneous recreation of John Taverner's "The Lamb",
right down to the dual E major/C# major tonality. I need hardly tell you the shower of knickers we had to duck afterwards.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 12:39, closed)

Yes, Tom Jones started in a choir.
Can you do Green green grass of home?
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Tue 30 Jul 2013, 12:50, closed)

Lacist.

( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 12:50, closed)

Awww, dude.
That's cheating.
I would love to be able to click for this post tho.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Tue 30 Jul 2013, 12:37, closed)

Best just whine about it then delete the post, eh?

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 12:38, closed)

Actually.
I didn't press the delete button.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Tue 30 Jul 2013, 13:02, closed)

Perhaps take the hint from the mods and stop being a whining bellend then?

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 15:16, closed)

I thoroughly enjoyed the painfully drawn out orange juice analogy
so have a click.
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Tue 30 Jul 2013, 14:55, closed)

Ta muchly
As a side note, I spilled actual orange juice in my kitchen this morning.

FACT
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 1 Aug 2013, 10:11, closed)

You have missed the point entirely
This is old school QOTW where you have made the schoolboy error of writing a witty piece that answers the question.

The current avante garde method is to go off on a tangent whilst moaning. But for old time's sake have a click (multiple).
(justin(e), Thu 1 Aug 2013, 7:41, closed)

Call me old-fashioned if you like.
I will prick this bloated bladder of post-ironic avant-gardism with the poniard of Geoffrey Boycott.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 1 Aug 2013, 10:13, closed)