Gibbos War Stories

Saturday 25th October 1986. Do you remember where you were that day? I can tell you where I was. Selina’s at the Coogee Bay Hotel. What a night!

I was working for Bandanna and we had gotten a gig that we were all rapt about. Supporting John Mayall & The Bluesbreakers as well as Aussie blues legends, Chain.


This was a big gig for us, band and crew alike. John Mayall is such an influential person in the music industry that it was like doing a gig with some sort of minor God. To quote John Mayall in one minute:

• John Mayall and Eric Clapton’s Bluesbreakers album was groundbreaking when it was released in 1966. Suddenly everyone wanted to emulate their music.
• Eric Clapton joined Mayall after leaving The Yardbirds in ‘65 and left to form Cream in ‘66.
• John McVie was the longest serving Bluesbreakers musician of the 60s, lasting four years, before forming Fleetwood Mac with fellow Bluesbreakers Mick Fleetwood & Peter Green.
• Mick Taylor was their star guitarist in the late 60s until he left to join The Rolling Stones.
• His Laurel Canyon mansion is home to one of the world’s largest pornography collections, worth over a million pounds.

Heavy duty resume, eh?

We arrived early that afternoon for the bump in with the bands gear. After helping get the main acts’ PA system in & setup, It became obvious that they had underestimated the size of the room and didn’t have enough PA. They asked could they hire ours as well to supplement it. Yeehah! We were getting paid by our band already so the extra cash was a bonus. This was going to be a reat night. Not only was Chain & Mayall playing, but at Selina’s in those days you could not load your gear out until 9am the following morning due to noise restrictions. They would then give you a hotel room to “sleep” in. Party, party party!!

The afternoon was a bit of a blur as we rushed around adding our system to theirs and getting soundcheck done etc. Finally, the show started. We were first up and the boys played like demons. Talk about rising to the occassion. the place was packed and was going off. I was surprised at how many of the crowd were Bandanna regulars. The set seemed to last only 5 minutes & then we were dragging gear off the stage. A couple of quick beers & then Chain hit the stage. If you never been to a Chain concert then you have truly missed out on one of lifes great pleasures. I got to work with them a few times over a period of years with various lineups and it was always outstanding.

Finally, the big moment arrived.

Selina’s is a great venue as it has a mezanine level which in those days was only open to “VIP’s” & drunken roadcrew. We stood up on the mezanine, just off to side stage and just stared. Wow, what a band! Apart from the amazing Mr Mayall, his band contained guitarists Coco Montoya and Walter Trout as well as drummer Joe Yuele. We were just mesmerised by this performance. Hot, sweaty, gutsy… everything you expect from an actual blues legend. Man, this guy was the same age as my Dad!
I remember walking up to Joe Yuele after the show and declaring that I was going to throw my drumsticks away in disgust after watching that.

Upstairs in the band room was a sight that we didn’t see very often. A real rider. A “rider” is the bit tacked onto a performers contract that sets out things like food and drink to be supplied by the venue. Usually the best we could hope for was a carton of beer but this was something special. Cheese platters, cold chickens, bread rolls, fruit platters…. the bloody lot mate. The Mayall crew had all had a good go and declared we could hoe in & finish whatever was left. Yeehah. I remember sitting pissed as a nit and still buzzing from the show, making sandwiches, when Walter Trout staggered in, barely able to remain upright, wondering if we had anything that “might help him stay awake”. We couldn’t help him but somehow it felt like a compliment to us to be asked. Weird eh? Walter was a legendary partaker of anything remotely illegal but apparently is a teetotal these days. Beats choking on your own vomit I suppose.

Walter Trout

I’m not sure what time we stopped drinking & talking about the show. Somewhere just before 9am I suspect. What a night!

Update:
I watched John Mayall’s 70th Birthday Concert the other day on DVD and can thoroughly recommend it. It features a few special guests like Eric Clapton although it is worth watching just for the Bluesbreakers.

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Round about 1990 we got a call from a Biker Club about doing a big gig for them. It was to be a three day festival of bikes, booze & music about halfway along the Putty Rd to Singleton. My boss at the time was a guy by the name of Rick Doolan who was no stranger to the wonderful world of the Biker. Rick was the original drummer in Bandanna and had lured me away from my comfy job at the bank to go full time with his PA company.

Rick Doolan in the Bandanna days.

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I was blown away last night to see Stevie Wright on This Is Your Life. During the late Eighties I worked for a while as Stevies live sound engineer, alongside brother of Gibbo on monitors and My Pal Brian(TM) on lights, and I have wonderful memories of some great gigs as well as some downright strange ones.

He was (I think) still on the needle in those days and was very definitley on the turps in a big way and was quite a handful. Even so, he was still very much a household name and drew decent crowds. The band, Hard Road, consisted of Peter Northcote (sax, keys, guitar), Bruno Renzella (guitar), Vic Young (bass) and Paul DeMarco (drums) and one or two others who slip my mind.
They were outstanding in both musical ability and counselling skills. It was a major effort sometimes just to get Stevie onto the stage in a reasonable condition to perform and the guys showed endless patience(usually!).

The guys started picking him up quite early in the day to get him to the gig before he got too blind. They would then keep him occupied and soberish backstage until show time. This worked for a while until the cunning bugger figured that he could just get the crowd to buy his drinks. “Who’s gunna buy Stevie a Southern Comfort then?” would be the cry. Half a dozen punters would then head to the bar and buy him drinks. The look on the faces of the band was simply priceless. What can you do to help someone who is determined to trash themselves?

Poor old Stevie didn’t have much of a voice left by this stage and it became increasingly difficult to get his voice to sit in the mix at a decent level. Brother of Gibbo had the worst of it as he looked after on-stage sound which was…loud! One night Stevie was having particular trouble hearing himself in the monitors so he decided he would kick them off the front of the stage, as you do. Classic rock ‘n roll tantrum! Anyway, being the professional he is, brother of Gibbo wanders out from side stage nonchalantly and puts the speakers back on stage. Well, Stevie manages to kick them off again at which point brother of Gibbo decides to unplug them & remove them. Picture the scene… Band wailing, punters dancing, singer fuming and brother of Gibbo standing at the front of the stage giving Stevie a right bollocking. Common sense eventually prevailed and the rest of the show went well. During the packup I noticed out of the corner of my eye that one of the band members had brother of Gibbo bailed up side stage and seemed to be giving him a gobfull. Thinking there could be ill feeling about the incident, I wandered a bit closer just in case and managed to hear words to the effect of: “Why didn’t you hit the bastard? I that had been my gear he kicked, I’d have floored him!” Brother of Gibbo explained that it wouldn’t look good on his resume that he had knocked out Stevie Wright.

One day I’ll tell you about the Stevie gig where I had to leave the mixing desk to punch on with some of the crowd! I’ve still got the scar where my tooth went through my mouth just below my bottom lip. I’ll bet the other prick’s still pissing blood though!

Thanks for the fun times and classic memories Stevie. Stay straight. I hope you find the peace you are looking for.

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The “tour” story about Bandanna apparently gave some people, including my beloved Mrs Gibbo, the idea that touring was some sort of wonderful, bohemian lifestyle chock full of naked women, intoxicating substances and midnight law breaking! In an effort to correct this very misguided idea, I would like to present a tale from the other end of the scale. A real tour!
It was 1992 and we were working for a great bloke by the name of James Blundell.

He was red hot property at the time and we worked hard. 6 shows per week, every week for 6-10 weeks at a time. If we could fit a matinee show in we would as well. Monday was classed as a “day off”. It’s funny how driving up to 12 hours can be considered a day off. We literally were on the job 7 days a week for weeks on end but it was great. I can honestly say that some of the best times I ever had professionally were with this band. There were a lot of factors that contributed. James himself was a thorough professional and a real gentleman. The band were absolutely red hot, all top class musicians and all top blokes. They were an absolute joy to watch. The crew all got on well and all did a great job. The standard of venues was usually good. Clubs, theatres etc and the hours were very civilized for people in our line of work. It was usually an 8pm to 10:30 show which is much earlier than a rock gig.

A day usually went something like this.

Brother of Gibbo at his post side stage during a soundcheck. His job was to keep the whole band happy on stage by providing 8 seperate monitor mixes to an array of speakers on stage. Do you know what the difference between a Monitor Guy and a Toilet is? The toilet only has to deal with one arsehole at a time.

The never ending stream of black boxes. Note the downing of a well earned, refreshing ale.

As I said, they were pretty good hours really but shit we did some driving. This is, to the best of my recollection, just one leg of a tour that we did, covering about 4 weeks.
Day 1, drive for about 1000k’s to meet up with the band and half the crew in Brisbane who have been doing record company promo shit.

Leaving NSW. Note the rainbow.

Arrive in Brisbane to find that the record company is still paying for room service. Yeehah!
The next day we are on in earnest. It starts with a drive to Gold Coast to pick up extra lights then off to Toowoomba for the first gig. Up 1 flight of steps!
then(roughly) Kingaroy, Caloundra, Gympie, and Bundaberg.

Some of the boys doing common after gig activities. One is passed out drunk. The other is dribbling shit to his Mrs on the phone just before passing out drunk.

We get a day off at some resort at Bundaberg before the show. The weather is shit so we just bum around all day but appreciate the rest already. We actually sit down to a real meal in a good restaurant. Wow.
Update. I was reminded that I had my first Cane Toad kicking experience in Bundaberg. Happy days indeed!

Then Gladstone, Rockhampton, Emerald, Dysart, Mackay, Townsville and Ayr. I get to catch up with my Auntie Margie and a few of the cousins in Townsville. We even get devon sango’s with Uncle Ray the next day on our way out of town. Bleedin’ luxury.
Enough of the socialising though, it’s off to Cairns.
Even though the gig is at Innisfail, we drive a couple of hours past it as we are staying in Cairns and for some forgotten reason, we need to go there first. We then turn around and drive a couple of hours back to the gig at Innisfail. On the way back to Cairns after the gig that night, I fell asleep driving the truck. Luckily, the guy in the passenger seat was awake and managed to wake me up. He only realised I was asleep when we crossed the road rounding a bend and ended up sideways. Something that is not recommended in a truck! I was wide awake for the rest of the trip.
We got back to our room in the early hours of the morning to find that two of our rooms, mine included, had been robbed. In all the years I travelled, this was the only time it ever happened. They got away with mostly clothes and a bit of cash. I think a few other things went missing that weren’t reported to the Police! Bastards.
We had the next day off in Cairns which was spent mostly sleeping. That night we walked into town to find a Blues Festival going on. It turns out that one of the acts are friends of mine and I am drafted into doing sound for them. So much for the day off. We end the night at Johnos Blues Bar, pissed as nits, watching Phil Emanuel go off. What a great night.
The next day we do our gig and as soon as the truck is loaded, we start the trek to Mt Isa. The first stop is Townsville for a few hours sleep in a bed. Then head about 1500k’s inland. Fuck it’s a long way. This is the last gig of the run and after this we are heading back to Sydney for a few days off before doing Southern NSW, Victoria and South Australia.

Shutting the truck in Mt Isa, ready for the 3 day drive home. That pan is 26foot long and is chockablock full. Top to bottom, front to back. My Uncle Ray who is a “real truckie” said it was a “poofy town truck that had no right to be driven so far.”
The truck becomes a central part of life on the road. You drive it, sleep in it, eat in it and it carries your entire life for months at a time.

Nearing the end of the first day driving home, we came across the famous Blue Heeler Hotel at Kynuna which was the subject of James’ first(I think) Golden Guitar winning song. We decided it would be a great idea to stop for a pie and a few beers. The publican was really friendly regailed us with stories of when the film clip was being shot. It was a real big deal for them and they treated us well.

Leaving The Blue Heeler.

Crossing the desert that night we were treated to the beautiful sight of a desert sunset.

“Only two more days of driving boys, and we’re home!”

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I had a conversation with Gibbo Junior the other day that brought back a few memories. He is “getting a band together” with a few mates as teenagers do and we were talking about things rock & roll. The word “tour” came up as it does. It is a funny word in the rock & roll world and can mean all sorts of things to all sorts of people. When I was first kicking off, the definition of “On Tour” was driving more than 3 hours from home and not sleeping in your own bed! Later on it came to mean months away from home and many thousands of kilometers travelled, literally! It brought to mind though, my first “interstate tour”. It was a trip to Queensland consisting of a gig in a wonderful place called Strathpine, Qld, followed by a midnight trip to a national park in S.E. Qld for a biker’s party. The band was called Bandanna.

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How often does Shepparton spring into your mind? Be honest. Not often I’ll bet. Well, I have had discussion recently with someone from Shepparton and it jogged a few memories.
As some of you know, I used to be a roadie. A few of my pals have been hassling me recently to publicly tell some of my “war stories”. I have resisted for a while but, enough time has passed now to make them interesting without getting people in the shit.I have spent many an interesting New Years Eve, but among them is not the one spent in Shepparton.
From (unreliable) memory, it was 1992. I was working for a chap by the name of Rick Price who was doing good business at the time. We were booked to play New Years Eve at this pub in Shepparton along with The Black Sorrows and Daryl Braithwaite as well as one or two others(Dave Mason-Cox I think). At the time it was a very impressive line up and it promised to be a great night. Read the rest of this entry »

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