Anatomy of a gig

For those who think that the life of a rock and roll star is all glitz and glamour, here's a walk-through of a typical gig - in this case, the sold-out show Great Northern recently did at Pearl Street Warehouse in DC.

First of all, you have to get there early. Really early. We had an opening band at Pearl Street and so we had to load in and sound check first, so they could set up in front of us. We loaded in at 4 PM for a set starting at 10 PM. At least we didn't have to provide PA for this show. In cases where we do, PA setup is an hour (and a lot of extra schlepping) in and of itself.

The loading dock

Second, loading in is always complicated. For a club you usually come in some back way - through the loading dock and the kitchen, or something like that. Pearl Street shares a loading dock with another music venue, Union Stage, as well as a hotel. One of the features of many such docks is that they are usually where the establishments keep their trash dumpsters, and so they smell pretty bad. Another thing about loading docks is that they are raised about four feet so they'll be the right height for large truck deliveries. In the photo above you can see some stairs on the leading from the floor up to the dock level. That means there's no way I could wheel my gear from the car to the stage since I had to get everything up the stairs. Clyde's in Chevy Chase has a really hard to find loading dock (the first time I played there the band sent me a four page sheet of directions, complete with multiple pictures), but the dock has a cool little elevator you can load your stuff onto so you don't have to carry it up from floor to dock level. I would have been happy just to have spent my night riding up an down the little elevator. (I'm easily amused). Except that the cool elevator was, in fact, next to the usual stinky dumpsters. In contrast, Jammin' Java in Vienna has  a really easy load-in path: you can wheel right in from artist parking and it's a short distance from the stage door to the stage (they too have stinky dumpsters back by where you load in - can't escape 'em).

Another thing about loading in through some back way (in this case, through the dock, down a hallway filled with banquet chairs and other stuff from the hotel, through another door, then around the kitchen storage area, is that you get to see a lot of restaurant-sized food prep tools and quantities of food - something which fascinates me.

Gallons and gallons of hot sauce

Bar/restaurant load-ins tend to be a little easier (and maybe less stinky), but those kinds of establishments often don't have a dedicated stage, so you have to negotiate with the staff to move tables out of the way to create room for the band. Which for whatever reason they usually grumble about. And you find out things like that they have only one working outlet anywhere near the stage.

At every gig, you're going to run into someone cranky. Often it's the sound guy; in this case it was the manager, who was on our case for us to move our cars out of the dock before we had even finished unloading. When I went out to my car to move it, there was a woman from Union Stage (the other club) there working to consolidate the vehicles in the dock. She asked if I could move my car over to the side of the dock, behind our drummer's car. I said "sure". But as I was starting to move my car, the Pearl Street manager barreled up to me and said emphatically and impatiently that I need to get my car out of the dock. I told him that the other woman (who as far as I could tell, had as much jurisdiction over dock real estate as he did) had told me something different. He said, "Do you not understand what I'm saying? YOU. HAVE. TO. GO. PARK. IN. THE. GARAGE." Nice way to interact with your artists.

We knew in advance that we'd only be able to leave one car in the dock, and we had decided in advance that I would be the one to get the spot, since I had the most equipment, but the drummer's car was there, by now blocked in by a big Sprinter van, and he was nowhere in sight, so I lost my spot to him. I had to go down into the garage, where I spent twenty minutes circling for a spot because the place was swarming with fans going to see Keshi at The Anthem, Thuy at Union Stage, and of course, Great Northern at Pearl Street! I made it back just in time for sound check.

Setting up onstage

Clubs usually feed the band before or after the show. I remember possibly the worst was The Carlyle Club in Alexandria. This was a place with a steak and seafood menu, but they didn't serve us that food - instead they ordered cheap takeout pizza for the band. To add insult to injury, since they used their green room (backstage area for the band) as storage, we had to eat our cheap pizza on the floor in a service hallway. Maybe the best band food I've ever experienced was a BBQ joint which brought out a huge buffet of everything left in the kitchen at the end of the night. Pearl Street treats the band decently, if not super-fancily. They provide what is actually a pretty nice green room, which they stocked with water, soda, and some beer. (we had been promised only Miller Lite but in fact they provided some better beer). There was also a bowl of corn chips with salsa, and some pretzels - luxe! With Great Northern there is precious little backstage debauchery. Our super-fan Sue sent back her famous (family-friendly) cupcakes to add to our feast, and someone else sent back what were purported to be special cookies - but as far as I know, no one in the band touched them.

The rare green room that isn't sticky and sweaty

- clean bathroom, too

Dinner backstage

I never know what clubs are going to serve the band so I often bring my own food as a backup. In this case, my car wound up so far away in the garage that I really didn't feel like running back to it for my food and so made do with what they served, which was a buffet-style spread of hamburgers (don't eat 'em), tater tots (don't eat 'em - but I cheated and ate one!), fried chicken nuggets (don't eat 'em), falafel patties (yay!) served unadorned, and salad (yay!). I had a falafel patty, salad, and my one tater tot for dinner. 

But the gigging experience is not all bad - you get to see your name in lights, and in the case of Pearl Street, walk around restricted areas of the club because you've got a cool backstage access sticker.

Our name in lights!

I can go back here. Sorry, you can't ...

... 'cuz I have this cool sticker and you don't

Sorry, you can't come in

Standing in the green room doorway, looking towards the stage.

Having an opening band (or "Supporting Act", as they say in industry parlance) is a mixed bag. It gives you a chance to hang out with your friends in the crowd and relax backstage while the other band plays. But it does mean getting there extra early, and it's twice as many people and twice as much gear to squeeze in.

Our "supporting act": Honeyfunk

Hanging out with friends and checking out the opening band

Backstage with the legendary Ron Holloway, who regaled us with stories of playing with Dizzy Gillespie and Sonny Rollins 

Then comes the magic moment. The lights come up. The crowd goes wild - their screaming is unbelievably loud. You come out. Security moves into place to keep the fans from the stage. Girls swoon. The crowd becomes just one pulsating mass, perfectly in synch with the energy you're sending from the stage. As Jackson Browne put it, you "wander 'round backstage. Till those lights come up and we hear that crowd and we remember why we came." (1) 

Onstage

There's magic synergy as tune after tune comes pouring out. And then, before you know it, it's over. To quote some more from Jackson Browne, "Let the roadies take the stage. Pack it up and tear it down." (2)

Except we don't have roadies. It's us, crawling around the floor unplugging things and coiling cables into the wee hours. Worse still if your show happens to be on springtime daylight savings night, as ours was.

"Pack it up and tear it down"

So you get home at 2 or 3 AM and (if, like me, you don't have a garage), you first have to haul all the gear into the house. For me I'm usually still buzzing with energy when I get home, so I sit around for a while - maybe have a snack - before finally at last crawling into bed with some groupie - oops, I misspoke - I mean to get some well-earned sleep. And gig night is finally over. Until next time.

(1) Browne, J. The Load-Out. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Load-Out. 1977.

(2) op. cit. "The Load-Out"