Skankenstein Meets the Spin Doctors
For a couple years at Binghamton University I was in a band called Skankenstein. We dressed funny and played lots of ska-ified funk and alternative rock cover tunes. Not really my aesthetic, but it's always healthy to get out of one's comfort zone. Plus the other members were all badasses and fun to play with. I garnered a lot of performance chops during my tenure in that band.
One of our final gigs was opening up for the Spin Doctors at a club downtown. This was just before they made it big but were getting a lot of hype touring around the northeast. I wasn't a fan, but we were all stoked to play a real rock show.
Their management, however, was far from stoked when we showed up for soundcheck. The venue promoter failed to tell the Spin Doctors management about us, i.e. this silly local college band pointlessly tacked on as openers. They wanted Skankenstein kicked off the bill, but were somehow convinced to let us at least play a 20 minute set.
Being much older and wiser now, I totally understand the Spin Doctors side of the story. But back then I was less wise and instead of aiming all my rage at the venue promoter (who should take all the blame for putting everybody in this awkward position), I got really irked by the whole Spin Doctors entourage and what I perceived as bad treatment by them. Like they were on some power trip when in reality it was pretty cool of them to let us play a set.
Making matters worse was they were touring with support - a New England based jam band called Jiggle the Handle. So we had to sit through two soundchecks before we could set up our gear. We weren't allowed to strike anything, and thus barely fit on stage. We also had no time to run any tunes or dial in monitors.
Our set was stupid, shitty and mercifully short. Well, at least I felt that way. I played terribly. I was probably out of tune. And then it was over, and we were being ushered off the stage. In the sweaty chaos I threw all my stuff into my gig bag and noticed some really nice guitar cables just lying there unclaimed on one of the Spin Doctors' pedalboards. In a fit of misaimed youthful rage I grabbed those cables and also crammed them into my bag, thinking at least I'll get something out of this experience. Stick it to the man, right?
I had the choice to load out now (and not be allowed back in) or hang around all night. Fuck this stupid frat boy scene. I headed on home. My housemate Joe, also in Skankenstein, arrived shortly after me and we commiserated about the show. He was bummed, saying he couldn't track down some of his cables while loading out. Oh.
I got my gig bag and dug out those cables I nabbed and showed them to Joe. Turns out they were his. "You found them!" he said, and was super happy to get them back. Well, fine. So I didn't stick it to the man after all. And later when I unpacked all my stuff I realized I left my $100 wah pedal at the gig, never to be seen again. Turns out the man stuck it to me.
Lesson learned, universe. I guess.