I am sure all you musicians out there have a story about the “oddest” gig you ever did. Yesterday, shb played at Montefiori in Chicago, a beautiful outdoor park-like venue well suited for expensive parties and high-end weddings.
We were greeted by light-flashing police officers who were dressed in Kevlar bullet-proof vests who were there to greet the 15,000 pre-registered “bikers” who were planning on attending from many different states. However, on Friday night and into late Saturday morning, there were monsoon caliber rains in the area which kept 14,500 of those attendees away. That meant that each attendee had their own personal porta potti and there was enough beer for each attendee to consume 3 kegs.
We arrive, and there was a smokin’ hot gospel band named “Chosen” playing on stage to the bikers, while strippers from a club called “Polekatz,” who were walking around in funky high heels with their butt cheeks hanging out, were selling 50-50 raffle tickets. The Gospel band brought an older white dignitary on stage and tried to get him to sing “When the Saints go Marching In” with one ounce of soul when the real issue was establishing pitch. All the while, a military color-guard marched and stood at attention in front of the gospel band while the strippers were raised up to the top of a scissor lift.
The gospel music was great, but went on longer than a southern church service which meant the other bands, including head-banging Zack Wilde like screamers called “B.O.B” (Bag of Balls…that’s right) were up to 2 hours late. We were the headliners, and we finally played as the place got dark, with only stage lights, and the strippers left for work. The band was tight, the audience, what was left, loved it, and we packed up and left.
We received good feedback and possibilities for other gigs, and I will always remember that day…