The Gods of Metal!

We’ve all had them, those Spinal Tap moments where thousands of people (or six in my case) watched in awe as you fell off the stage or set yourself on fire. In fact, I think it’s safe to say no matter how good your performance is, it’s not really perfect unless something completely unforeseen happens that you can tell stories about for years to come.

I’m going to share two of mine with you from when I was in a progressive metal band back in the early 90′s. They may not be the absolute worst you’ve ever heard, certainly not stories of epic proportions, but they are the best ones I have that I’m willing to share with you.

I would love to hear from all you Fretheads about your most embarrassing gig moments. Maybe a prize for the best one? (I’ll have to think about that.)

A Hairy Proposition

That's me on the right with my white Ibanez RG550, moments before "it" happened.

So there I was, on stage for my metal band Amsterdam’s debut show at Bonnie’s Roxx in Atco, NJ. (Back in the day the two xx’s were actually cool, mind you.)  There were maybe 50-100 people there thanks to us being the opener for the most popular metal band in the area – Without Warning.

As you can see from the picture, I was moshing and headbanging around pretty good, getting into the vibe and trying my best to look like I knew what the hell I was doing. Right before my guitar solo on one of the songs, I spun my head around one last time, prepared for my solo and started to right myself to unleash the fury, as it were, but when I tried to raise my head it wouldn’t move. I had no idea what the hell was happening until I looked over and realized that my hair had gotten caught up in the tuning machines of my headstock!

There I was, my first big show, rocking out with my head all cocked to one side because I couldn’t friggin’ move it! Once the song was over it took a good 3 minutes to get my mane untangled before being able to continue with the set. I’m really just glad I wasn’t into the whole “fling your guitar behind your back” thing or I would have been in a world of hurt. I can’t quite remember how long it took me to pick the hair out of my headstock.

A Smashing Good Time

For those of you not lucky enough to be a musician during the late 80′s, you aren’t aware of the most essential piece of gear that every non-drummer musician had – the hatchback car! You have to remember, SUV’s didn’t exist back then, so unless you were going to buy a pickup or a van, hatchbacks were the shizznit! Mine was a black 1989 Ford Escort just like the one on the left.

The most ironic part of this story is that it technically wasn’t even my gig. My friends’ band Ransomed Soul was playing a gig at Bonnie’s Roxx – go figure – and the guitarist, Scott, asked to borrow my 4X12 Ampeg speaker cabinet. I was, of course, more than happy to oblige, as helping out fellow bands was one of the great things about the South Jersey club scene back then.

Anyway, Scott borrowed my cabinet, and when the gig was over I started to load it into the back of my stud mobile to bring it home. As I was putting it in, Scott said, “Dude…”

(As an aside, EVERY sentence had to start with the word “Dude,” otherwise #1 you weren’t cool and #2 we just wouldn’t pay attention to what you were saying.)

“I don’t think you put it in right; I don’t think you’ll be able to close the hatch.”

By now I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this, but for the sake of complete embarrassment I’ll finish it for you.

In a nutshell I told him he was full of crap, it would fit fine as I had stuck it in my car 1,000 times before, and proceeded to close the hatch.

Well…

Yeah, it happened. I completely smashed the shit out of my rear window. I would have been laughing my ass off had I not been chewing on the sole of my shoe so hard from putting my foot in my mouth. I’m sure you can only imagine how funny everyone else around me thought it was.

And for the record, there is absolutely NOTHING more fun than taping up a broken rear window with trash bags and duct tape at 2AM. Seriously, nothing at all.

So there you go. Hopefully you will all feel very sorry for me now and think I’m just the coolest person ever for opening up my heart and bearing my soul for the betterment of the Fretterverse. Yeah, whatever.

As I said in the beginning, I would love to hear your stories, if you’re man or woman enough to share them with the rest of us.

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