It’s with great pleasure that Rock Town Hall announces the addition of rock concert etiquette expert Dear Crabby to the RTH Contributor Staff. Dear Crabby is well-known to concertgoers around the world for the gentle tap on the shoulder she applies before politely notifying overly enthusiastic fans, underappreciated artists, and overworked venue staff of behavior that crosses the line of civil rock behavior. Without further ado, let’s welcome Dear Crabby and see if she can’t engage us in advising a legendary indie-rock musician sort through a most unfortunate case of mistaken identity.
Thank you for that warm welcome, Mr. Moderator and Townspeople of the Hall. I have followed your blog with great interest since the time you launched your ongoing investigation into the possible ZZ Top livestock hoax. Oh, how I hope that story proves to be a hoax. As wrong as it is to execute a hoax on one’s fans, it’s beyond rude to allow cattle and buzzards to stink up the stage with their untamed excretions! But I digress.
Nothing beats live music, but more and more I’m dismayed by acts of impolite behavior among audience members, performers, and venue staff. It’s my mission to bring these acts to light—and to suggest ways in which these individuals might better behave themselves in the future. I welcome the opportunity to field your questions and trade insights and advice on these important matters. After the jump is an offlist message I received from a musician I hold in high esteem. I will invite you to help me counsel him. In the coming months, if you find yourself in need of guidance over matters related to the live music experience, please feel free to write me at my personal e-mail address:
DearCrabby [at] rocktownhall [dot] com
I will ensure your anonymity is preserved during the public discussion that will ensue. Thank you. Now on with our first letter!
When I tried to walk into the club where I would be playing in less than an hour, I was stopped by security who asked for my ticket or pass. Obviously I didn’t have one—I was the headliner! So he told me I couldn’t go in. Then some smart ass nearby looked at me and said, “Bummer,” knowing damn well who I was. I was able to enter my own show only after one of my group went to the ticket office and said he was on the guest list. I went in as my own “plus one.”
So maybe it was because I was wearing glasses and didn’t have my guitar slung over my shoulder. Maybe it was because I’m a little older now and those promo shots erase the wrinkles. But what is a ’90s Indie Rock Guitar God supposed to do when he can’t get into his own show?
Thanks a lot, SM
OK, Townspeople, when you have had a chance to digest this venue’s atrocious disregard of its headlining artist’s identity, please help me counsel him and other aging headliners, should lightning ever strike a second time. Thank you.