April 24, 2011 by vinylburns
Initially, I requested an extremely wide, extremely narrow stage, wedged between a tin fence and the front row. No problem.
“How about a performance area as I just described, but minus the actual stage, but instead, to be located on the rough, uneven pavement, where we are constantly interrupted by transients?”
“Might I be so bold,” I continued, “as to hope, for a troupe of 45 teen girls to perform acrobatic cheer leading stunts, who would share this space, and incur 3 or 4 injuries per appearance.
This would ensure that any complaints from myself, would have me branded a primadona and/or a wanker. This will help to keep me to the party line, a company man, to the end.”
I enquired as to the ease with which a slightly racist, short shorted sheep racing expert, might loiter behind me during the more sensitive portions of the show. This, to my surprise, was as good as done.
My timid queries gained a reassured momentum… Will there be technical issues? Can the log drums 100 meters over there behind that building, be amplified beyond comfortable volume? Can you arrange for a Segway to do doughnuts directly behind me for key portions of the show?
The increasingly positive and accommodating answers thrilled me to the core.
I was ticking items off my show-rider bucket list, at an awesome pace.
Radio interference? But of course!
Caught up in a frenzied vortex of rock star type requests, I got a little crazy.
I remembered fantastic and hitherto unrealistic dreams, of tumbling backward into the fence, crushing my guitar stand and soiling my drip dry slurry pants in a brooding cocktail of chainsaw oil, corn-dog sauce and sawdust. Gloriously, this could be arranged, and indeed, there was a vat of this goop already in production.
“Can those blacksmiths over in the “foundry” tent, (yes, the one just here, by the area where a lesser event would have built a stage), can they hammer steel during my entire performance…? …Actually, it would be really great if the could stop briefly, just for 15 seconds, just as I deliver a hammering related joke.”
“sweet as…” came the reply.
“Can a retarded old man with an AM radio walk achingly slowly between the back of my unicycle, and the fence one Meter behind me? Yes? Really?”
I’m a little emotional!!!!
“Finally, if I slip someone $50, can the greenroom be locked when I finally finish my last show? It can? Good Shit!!!”
I could go on, but I don’t wish to brag of my respect and status in this industry.
This was just another gig, living up to the dreams that so many of us know and live every day.
I’ll simply say, if you want it, here it is come and get it… And then pay at the cashier, and no, you don’t get a bag unless you paid for one at the cashier… Sorry, it’s too late to pay now, you’ll have to come back in the front again.