ROAD-HOUSE BLUES

Rip It Up, Issue 215, 1 July 1995, Page 9

ROAD-HOUSE BLUES

Continuing our series of infamous and no holds barred vox pop features, we went head-to-head with members of some of the country’s top acts, and asked them: Where is the worst place you’ve ever played, and why does it deserve this distinction?

“Definitely Whakatane. The crowd started demanding Doors covers and they wound up getting quite nasty, so we ended up introducing every Second Child song as

an old Doors B-side. We told them if they were real Doors fans, they would know the songs. A few fell for it, but at the end of our set a woman came up to me and said: ‘On behalf of Whakatane, you guys suck.’ She was followed by a much happier male, wondering when we were going to start the second set of Doors’ classics.” Damien Binder, Second Child.

“We drove for two days, for one solitary gig in the South Island. It was our first time playing on the mainland. We got to the gig, climbed up two flights of stairs, and walked

into a bloody coffee lounge with a tiny stage and a PA that resembled someone’s home stereo.

“The support act for the gig was the Mainland’s leading ‘alternative’ poet, which did not go down well with the crowd, who either left or sat down on the dancefloor — they remained sitting there for our entire set. “Meanwhile, on the ground floor were three ska bands playing covers. The night ended with us loading out our gear while skinheads and students fought in the carpark. We sang: ‘Where have all the skin-

heads gone, long time passing,’ at them. I also backed the van into a tree. It truly sucked, a rather tragic night. However, every subsequent trip to the Mainland has been filled with much happiness and good fun.” Peter McLennan, Hallelujah Picassos.

"CBGB’s in New York is the dirtiest. When we were soundchecking, the resident dog did a pee on the dance floor. The place reeked of this dog. The toilets had no doors. Still, better than Invercargill any day.” ? David Saunders, the 3Ds.

“Probably the Punters Club in Melbourne'. It’s about the size of the Powerstation toilet, and the stage wouldn’t be much bigger than the step in front of the urinal. Bevan was

drumming with bent elbows, while Fiona, Chris and I spent most of our time standing sideways so we could fit. Michael quite enjoyed it, I think, because no one could see him behind Chris’ amp.” Grant Fell, Headless Chickens.

“The worst one was in Kaikohe on the Serious Latitude Tour in 92. I was doing a combination of poems and songs. Half of the audience were there to see me, and half were

there to celebrate the

newly revamped room. To start with, the top end of the PA died, so it sounded like someone had thrown a blanket over it. Then the bar manager said I had to stop talking between songs otherwise he

would pull the plug — the talking was the poems! I was halfway through a poem when he came up to tell me this. This appalled half the crowd, and raised cheers from the other half. We ended up in an argumentative scene at 3AM with the pub manager, and he chucked us out of the accommodation. So three of us slept the rest of the night with a dog in a Honda Civic! Andrew Fagan.

“Any place that’s got a frickin’ smoke machine on stage and a sound system that can’t handle a decent 808 kick.” Teremoana Rapley.

“Stax in Wellington, the old Rocky’s place — over the top security and management.” Craig Radford, Sticky Filth.

“A place called Simon’s in Waiheke Island. We played there in winter with six inches of water on the floor. There were six people there, and all

they wanted to hear was ‘Suffragette City'. So we played that over and over for more than an hour — they didn’t seem to mind. “Another place was Owairake Primary School Hall. We played there just after the Springbok tour in 81, and the Red Squad was still around. They turned up to close the place down, and they kicked my amp in and hit me on the head with a baton — a teenager with a guitar is no match for a copper with a baton.” Alan Stephenson, the Warners.

“Top of the scale would have to be an outdoor bikie festival in Waiuku. The Set were booked to play sandwiched between -every hard-rock, flying V, speed-metal band in existence. The crowd witnessed the gig, mainly guys the size of the Warriors frontline, in classic pose — one hand grasping an open tinnie, the other hand clutching a six-pack,

with thumb through their belt loop — and in total silence (no applause, no boos, no cans... nothing!). The Mongrel Mob broke the place up about an hour after we’d split.

“I hadn’t known it was a bikie festival, so consequently arrived at this gawd forsaken gig wearing a cream coloured Heaven shirt, with a girlie type design screened on the front. Considering everyone was in black, denim and patches etc., I didn’t really feel out of place at all!” Trevor Reekie, Cosa Nostra and Greg Johnson Set.

“The worst was in Westport on a Friday night, at some dodgy pub I can’t remember the name of. Every single person complained about the five dollar

door charge. They

were horrified because: ‘Hey, this is Westport man. No one charges five dollars’”. Damon Newton, Dead Flowers.

"It had to be the River Inn in Takaka, where we played for two and a half hours to 40 people for a home cooked meal, free drinks, a room each and espresso for breakfast. Pretty fucked really — not!” Sean Sturm, the Nixons.

"Invercargill, because it doesn’t have a giant monument of a trout! (Trout mean a lot to me.) Tony, Nothing At All!

“This country is too small to dis venues. The worst gigs are often ‘charity’ gigs for ‘good causes’. They always try to save money by not having the right gear and a lousy PA.” Chris Maiai, Three The Hard Way.