Where to start...
With many years of Rock and Roll behind me, I can tell a few, but I'll start small, since this is the most 'Tap'.

Sometime in the early 80's, and my band 'Psi-Storm' are playing a big charity gig in Kent. There are four of us in the band: Clarkie on guitar, a genius who makes all his own gear, Jim on Bass, a solid if uninspired player, Paul 'The Gob' on drums, his mouth being the only thing louder than his kit, and meself on shouting. We're kicking off our act with a new number in our shouty-industrial-punk set, so amidst the gathering gloom we take the stage before the hundreds of adoring and/or indifferent fans.
Jim kicks things off with a rumbling bass line of the type made popular by The Cure on their Faith album. A few bars in Paul takes up the rhythm, and for once manages to play what he's supposed to. (Paul rates himself as a 'jazz artiste' so the rhythm machine pattern he's supposed to be playing seems to offend him. Clarkie waits for the momentum of the rhythm section to build until he starts laying a few noises over the top. This intro session relies on atmospheric sounds over the rhythm, so I pitch in with some curious farty noises on Clarkie's home made synth. So far so good.
Up to the mic then, and I shout out the first line.
Silence.
I shout the second line.
Silence.
A roady dashes on in that half crouch they do that they think makes them invisible. He changes the mic.
I shout out the third line and it works!
Signalling the band to go 'round again', we restart the intro.
More wibbly and farty noises.
Clarkie's amp starts to speak.
He's picking up the local mini-cab company somehow. (His guitar leads are made out of cb cable.)
Much waving and shouting and fiddling with amps.
I try and pick up the guitar riff on the synth, but it's monophonic, so not a chance.
Paul starts inserting 'jazz improviations' into the rhthym.
Jim loses the beat as a result.
Suddenly there is a flash and a bang from the backline, and the audience applauds the 'pyro'.

Clarkie's home made amp has just exploded!

Somehow we carried on and finished the gig. During the encore I was struck on the head by a thrown hippo. (Plush luckily.)

The band split up after that, though Clarkie and I kept on going, and there may be more tales from some of those gigs.
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Sat 1 Jul 2006, 14:35, Reply)