By Corey Deiterman
By Chris Gray
By Chris Gray
By Chris Gray
By Chris Gray
By Corey Deiterman
By Jef With One F
By Chris Gray
Nothing screams "superstar" like a performance contract fat with pages and pages of demanding hospitality riders. For the uninitiated, riders are the little clauses appended to a show contract detailing exactly what Joe or Jane Rock Star will or won't eat or drink backstage.
The most famous rider of all time has to be Van Halen's "no brown M&Ms" example, a story so strange it could only be true. Most assume that Messrs. Roth, Anthony and Van Halen demanded the brown candies be removed just because they could, but according to Roth's autobiography, there was an ingenious method to their heavy-metal M&M madness.
Roth wrote that Van Halen was one of the first bands to take a huge production to tertiary markets -- cities like Beaumont, Corpus Christi and Waco. "We'd pull up with nine eighteen-wheeler trucks, full of gear, where the standard was three trucks, max," wrote Roth. "And there were many, many technical errors -- whether it was the girders couldn't support the weight, or the flooring would sink in, or the doors weren't big enough to move the gear through."
Because of the size of the show, Halen's performance contract was the size, as Roth put it, of the "Chinese Yellow Pages," and the band wanted to make sure that the venue production staff read it all. "So just as a little test, in the technical aspect of the rider, it would say 'Article 148: There will be fifteen amperage voltage sockets at twenty-foot spaces, evenly, providing nineteen amperes ' This kind of thing. And article number 126, in the middle of nowhere, was: 'There will be no brown M&M's in the backstage area, upon pain of forfeiture of the show, with full compensation.' So, when I would walk backstage, if I saw a brown M&M in that bowl well, line-check the entire production. Guaranteed you're going to arrive at a technical error. They didn't read the contract Sometimes it would threaten to just destroy the whole show. Something like, literally, life-threatening."
There's a treasure trove of riders at the leaked-document site www.thesmokinggun.com (www.thesmokinggun.com/backstagetour/index.html). Here we find the whims, dietary necessities and psychological insecurities of just about every name artist Houston has produced over the past 30 or so years, from Kenny Rogers to Destiny's Child. Let's look at them chronologically:
Kenny Rogers: The Gambler's enormous contract from a Christmas tour has a Dickensian tone. The big man gets plenty while the tots go hungry. Rogers calls for (among many other things) red meat -- teriyaki steak and pepper steak are faves -- and he and his five-member band like the booze. Lots of it. No less than a total of two and a half cases of assorted Bud, Heineken, St. Pauli Girl, Bass and Corona are called for, as well as a pint of Drambuie -- for the ladies, one suspects. If you're a member of Kenny's cast and crew, though, you'll get next to nothing and like it. The cast has to squabble over a case of mixed Coke and Diet Coke, while the poor little children's choir must subsist on nothing more than an Oliver Twist-like diet of five gallons of Kool-Aid. ("Please, Kenny, may I have some more? More?? More??" Rogers knocks the ladle of Kool-Aid from the trembling child's hand ) Looks like Kenny needs a visit from the ghost of career, er Christmas, past.
ZZ Top: Who knew the lil' ol' band from Texas had teensy-weensy self-esteem to match? Clause XIII-B of their contract is oddly touching in its almost pleading legalese: "Promoter acknowledges that it is promoting a worldwide 'superstar' artist and that each and every element of such promotion shall be first-class in nature and commensurate with the stature of a 'superstar.' " Top's dietary requirements show a regional bent -- lots of jalapeños, Tabasco, picante sauce and Dr Pepper -- but oddly, the beer specified is not a Texas brew but Bud.
Lucinda Williams: Americana's grande dame shows an international interest. She likes her wine from Chile (La Playa Merlot or Cabernet), her beer from Mexico (Corona, Tecate, Dos Equis) and Jamaica (Red Stripe), her water from France (Evian) or Canada (Naya), and her food from either Japan, China, Vietnam, Thailand, Mexico, India or the Middle East. As befits such a cosmopolitan, she's also quite the diplomat. "Any extra 'nice touches' will be greatly appreciated," she notes in the agreement's introduction. Tough to heckle something like that.
Clint Black: You'd think that the late Roy Rogers's young pal Black would call for some macho chuckwagon grub, and you would be absolutely wrong. Evidently he's been spending a lot of time in low-fat California with wife Lisa Hartman Black. How else to explain the mandatory band entrée of a "skinless, boneless chicken breast prepared roasted or grilled on open fire with no butter, creams or oils"? And no trail cook worth his white beard and the name "Cookie" would serve up the "French roast or gourmet non-flavored coffee" Black and his lite buckaroos demand, either. As for what would happen if Black was a-settin' around the campfire and piped up for a mug of Celestial Seasonings herb tea, three words: Git a rope.
Destiny's Child: The interesting thing about these divas' contract is its restraint. J. Lo demands that all the furniture, walls, drapes and even candy in her dressing room be white. Christina Aguilera insists that jicama be on her vegetable deli tray and that she also be provided with dried cranberries, Flintstones vitamins, Echinacea capsules, four kinds of cheese, Nesquik powder, Original Malt Flavor Carnation Instant Breakfast, a liter of full-fat vanilla soy milk and much, much more. Even with their insistence upon fresh ginger root, which is stressed as "very important," it's clear that Beyoncé and company flunked How to Be a Pain in the Ass 101.
Numbers owner Bruce Godwin has dealt with a lot of pains in the ass over the club's 25 years. One band (he can't remember which) wanted specific pages of certain porno mags. Bloodhound Gang wanted a monkey skeleton -- don't we all? (Godwin said they later told him it was a joke -- they just wanted to see if anybody was dumb enough to go out and get one.) Courtney Love demanded a passport photo photographer. (The unused shots are at www. numbersnightclub.com.) The Butthole Surfers wanted ten new pairs of tube socks -- front man Gibby Lewis explained that they didn't want their feet to stink up the bus and they sure as hell didn't want to do laundry. A few other bands have demanded underwear as well as socks.
As you might expect, the Pogues made even Kenny Rogers look like a lightweight. By Godwin's estimate, the hard-drinking Irish band consumed eight bottles of wine, four quarts of whiskey, six cases of beer, a bottle of gin, another of cognac and assorted vodkas. That was when front man Shane MacGowan got nasty.
"Shane grabs me and says, 'Where is our fucking liquor? If I don't get some more I'll kill you!'" remembers Godwin. Noting that by this point MacGowan could hardly stand, Godwin nonchalantly replied that he must have drunk it already. "He left me alone," Godwin says. "They bought another bottle or two and went on the bus off to another drunken show somewhere down the road in another city Nothing beats getting threatened with death by a brandy-breathed Shane MacGowan."
According to Godwin, Weezer wins the sensitivity sweepstakes. "Rivers Cuomo wanted a grand piano in a separate rehearsal room by himself where he could 'prepare' in solitude for one hour before the show. This was before one of his nervous breakdowns or whatever. We told them to fuck off. They played anyway. What were they thinking? It's a fucking club, not Jones Hall."
Ministry demanded that there be no Styrofoam cups in the entire building. "We used them anyway," says Godwin. "No band has ever not played because we did not supply them with whatever. We supply reasonable food and beverage. There have been many, many threats, verbal abuse from road managers and an occasional bodily assault on the poor production managers from Clear Channel. But in the end, pizza and beer solves all problems."
Homegrown blues-rock mama Carolyn Wonderland was starstruck recently for one of the only times in her life when none other than Bob Dylan summoned her for a private audience. Dylan was lunching with Ray Benson during his Austin stop last month when he let it be known that he was a fan. "Bob told Ray to tell me to come to his show," Wonderland relates giddily. "I gave him our new CD and he liked it -- he sure said a lot of nice things. I can't believe it -- I really can't believe it. Touring with Buddy Guy was pretty amazing, touring with Johnny Winter was pretty amazing, but to have someone call you and say 'Bob Dylan wants to meet you' is just too weird. I just know that if I ever get frustrated and think I can't write a song, I'll think to myself, 'Well, Bob Dylan thinks I can write.' " They're already calling it the Red Rocks of Texas. And while the new 800-acre, 25,000-capacity Two River Canyon amphitheater hasn't even opened yet, it does sound like something special. Sprawled across the Blanco-Burnet county line, about 35 miles west of Austin, the TRC will debut with the 30th anniversary of the Willie Nelson Picnic on July 4 and 5. The Dead have confirmed, and Lucinda Williams, Neil Young, Sheryl Crow, Kid Rock, Beck and Toby Keith are rumored to be joining them. "This isn't going to be a shed," TRC manager Wilobee Carlantold the Austin American-Statesman. "We've got three waterfalls and a lake." Eventually, the TRC will also have a dance hall, a rodeo arena and an RV park on the rustic site, but for now they just want to get the amphitheater up and running.