Drenched in Denton
Species Being, then down to a trio (Frank on drums, me on bass, Jai Young on keyboards), had its last tour in the spring of 2001. Halfway through we had a gig at Rubber Gloves in Denton, TX.
Since the opening band was a huge multimedia event we had to strike all our gear from the stage and stow it in a giant shed behind the club. Not a big deal, but during their set I became aware of a burst of sudden rain outside.
I peered out the front door, watching the storm quickly get biblical. Gusting winds carried swirling bundles of dense, hot water into the flooding streets, and the droplet trajectories became more and more horizontal. At this point Frank and I remembered we had all our equipment in that shed, and there was no door on said shed, i.e. our gear was basically exposed to the elements.
We needed to get back there, but the only routes were via the stage (currently occupied by the opening band) or all the way around the building and beyond a tall, locked fence. We convinced a bartender to run us back there. Frank and the bartender sprinted outside ahead of me - I felt clever waiting a moment to stay dry while they fussed with opening the gate through the fence.
I counted to five and darted out into the rain. Within seconds I was completely drenched. And by the time I got to the fence, I was about two seconds too late - the gate door swung closed and it was locked again. There I was, outside, exposed, rain dissolving me. I had to choose whether to abandon ship and run all the way back through the front door, or scream for those guys to rescue me.
I chose the latter, but my throat-shredding screams were no match for the crashing thunder, the pelting raindrops, and the loud music inside the club. Nobody heard me for a good 30 seconds. Eventually Frank came to get my sorry ass.
When I joined them in the shed I found all our equipment getting rained on. This was fine for all the hard cases, but my bass cabinet speaker sat toward the front of the pile. Luckily it faced inward, away from the rain, so the speaker cone was still dry. In the dark, we pushed all the equipment further into the shed. Frank grabbed a push broom and began the chore of sweeping incoming water away from our stuff. I gathered tarps and towels in preparation to carry our stuff out and through the back door onto the stage.
The first band ended, and the rain let up a little but not enough to make this easy. As Frank and I hauled the equipment inside we found there were leaks in the ceiling, the biggest of which was dripping right onto the front, center of the stage. Because of this, I played off to the side. Jai Young reappeared, having been out to dinner with family and missing all the action.
I was drenched, making set up a nightmare. I peeled off my socks (eventually throwing them away). I changed my shirt with one I had been using for over a week as a makeshift cover for my bass head. I freely admit I was wearing the same clothes for the past four days straight at least, so this forced shower and removal of stinky duds was probably quite welcome by everyone within noseshot.
I took a couple deep breaths, focused, and calmed down. Though I was still tensing up due to residual stress, I was able to relax enough to eventually have a great time playing this show.
A pack of kids bobbed their heads during our cathartic 40 minute romp. Afterward, one admitted to us he cried during the final few melodic minutes of the set. The headlining band, Yeti, completely melted our brains. Great fucking show.