So the band I'm in now did their first out of town show at a two day fest type deal of punk/hardcore bands up in Capital City (Wellington) and the morning of the show I opened up my case to find the strings of my bass all fucked up and broken from the trip on the plane.

I had to haul ass and find a replacement set which ended up costing pretty much the last of the cash I had (the store was charging WAY more than back home for some reason) and were a brand I totally fucking hate. I threw those fuckers on and got to the venue to find the rest of the band hangover to fuck from the shit the got up to the night before (I had arrived later).

We all started pounding some brews getting totally blown away by a bunch of the epic Wellington bands that played that night. Foe were slated a bit later on in the night because we were from out of town so we were pretty haggard once we hit the stage.

I tune up. The top string keeps popping outta the string lock. I restring it, tune it up and it seems fine now. I plug into the amp. It does nothing. I fuck round with a bunch of shit still nothing. At this point I feel like the biggest douche bag out. The stage manager type dude sorts out some shit and it's all go.

We get thru the first song without to much trouble but from then on the shit hit the fan for me. That fucking string started popping out again so I'm jamming some hardout riffs trying to pop it into place while keeping time and hitting the right notes. A total nightmare. I get a sinking feeling of why fuck am I here? I'm not musician I can't even put the strings on without them fucking out... the bands before kicked our ass and are way better. Basically total embarrassment on a grand scale. I basically felt like perhaps music wasn't my thing.

So I deal with the string misshap and we get to the end of the set which at the time was a Poison Idea cover (Novelty). Our singer forgets who its by and holds the mic up to me to say who did it originally and I get all tongue tied and babble some shit and he looks at me like "ummmmm what the fuck dude?". We kick into it and it was all good and I finally get to pack up get off stage. Tail totally between my legs I roll the biggest cigarette and go outside and chow that motherfucker down in like one breath and chill.

I sit down at a table close to the stage and the bartender was like "fuck I didn't know you guys were one of the bands and he hooks us up with a bunch of free beer and we watch some more great bands tear it right up. It got to the point of us being the only people there with more booze on the table than we can possibly stomach talking shit with some of the old dudes at the bar. I wind up outside smoking a joint with a few people and some old weird motherfucker is like prowling on my girlfriend trying to get us all back to his pad to have some pills and mushrooms... we're all like FUCK THAT and bail. I go to get my bass as a hear a crunching noise. I've put the corner of my case into like the window back stage and fucked it up. So yeh I'm outta there.

I think this was our 5th or 6th gig and it ended up being a valuable learning experience and we changed how we handled ourselves on stage, the delivery of our set a bunch of shit and were a better band for it. We were over confident and threw ourselves in the deep end and totally ate shit.

Funny thing is a bunch of cats really dug it and thought we tore it up and a few days later we got paid more cash than we'd ever got from a gig at the time :D

So yeh probably WAY to many details later that was my worst gig.

A few of the bands we were blown away by have come played our town dug our new and improved shit that just wouldn't have happened with out going there and fucking epically sucking and sorting it out.

I cringe everytime I think about it but what the fuck right... playing in a band that's to punk for the metallers and to metal for the punks kicks ass.

The lady who hates Zeppelin but likes pre-plane crash Skynyrd

Will you go out with me if I get a sex change?

Nope. You hate Freebird.

Please...please...please tell me the names of the films that make up your signature.....put me out of my misery.:o

Charlie Christ (an ode to Holy Terror, Jim Vanbebber & life).
1990: The Bronx Warriors (RCA/Hoyts.... PAL VHS)
Ironmaster
Strike Commando
The Warriors
Brain Damage
The Prowler
Street Trash
Blastfighter
and a part of the dope Return of the Living Dead poster from Germany (?) I forget but some one who knows will correct me...

Time for a new one right? ...that bullshit is looking tired.

Personally, I love your sig. One of my favorites on the board. You're ridiculously talented with Photoshop.

I had a copy of 1990: The Bronx Warriors on vhs as a kid. I watched the hell out of it. Will they remake this classic?

which venue was this at? chances are I've been there once or twice.

Not anymore. Listen to it about everyday.