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My older Grandson, Lawrence, just coming up to 18, is a big fan of Marilyn Manson. Manson has done 2 gigs in Britain recently, split by a tour of Europe. Lawrence went to the one in London a few weeks ago and enjoyed it greatly. Last week it was Birmingham. My wife and I heard from our daughter that Lawrence thought it was 'the greatest gig ever'. Smiles.

But when they all came over for lunch on Sunday, we heard the story. My daughter dropped Lawrence off at the gig, quite early. He met a girl there; a 19 year old student at Birmingham University (and has now decided that Birmingham would be a good university for him to go to to study maths :) ). Her friends, for some reason, hadn't turned up so she and Lawrence hung out together and watched the gig. But she and her (absent) friends were on journalism courses, and had press cards; one of the absent friends had an appointment to interview Manson for the university paper. So the girl who WAS there, went backstage after the gig. And Lawrence followed into Manson's dressing room; no one stopped him. So he sat there quietly through the interview while Manson took off his makeup and so on.

He was overwhelmed!

Nothing like that ever happened to me.

Anyone else got stories of being an overwhelmed fan?

MG

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I went to see Captain Beefheart in December 1970 at Ungano's, a small club on Manhattan's Upper West Side, when I was 15 (my brother took me). We walked into the small lobby, and there was the Captain in the lobby, smiling, talking to fans, signing autographs. Words cannot describe. I searched frantically for a piece of paper, approached shyly, and he autographed the paper for me. I still have it, laminated.

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I guess the closest I've come to one of my real favorites was receiving a letter in response to mine from Philip K. Dick. I sent him a letter in late '81 about how I had first found a book by him in 1967 at Gianopolis Bookstore in Addis Ababa (The Zap Gun) and then tracked down every novel I could find, not an easy task in those years when so many were out of print. I explained to him how his books had influenced my thinking and my life. A few months later I was shocked to receive a letter from him, talking about his upcoming trip to Paris, smog, his cats, and his girlfriend, talking about how excited he was that his (final) novel was being published, how excited he was about the making of Blade Runner, and how getting letters like mine was a real highlight of his days, knowing he had reached someone.

Several months later, he had his fatal stroke.

In the world of my musical favorites I was priviledged to meet and talk to Joe Lovano and Sam Rivers. Oh and Jim Sangrey, who fits right in there as great musician, I'm a fan.

Edited by jazzbo
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Oh yes, I sent Joel Dorn a critical e-mail. In the sleeve note of the Label M reissue of David Newman's 'Captain Buckles' he'd written that the session was kind of an apology for his having overproduced 'The weapon'. I wrote saying that the weapon was done about two years AFTER 'Captain Buckles' and where had his memory gone. A few days later, one of his sidekicks e-mailed me to ask for my phone number. Mystified I gave it to him, thinking he was about to visit Britain, but he phoned me the following weekend. Really, he wanted to know where I'd got 'The Magnificent Goldberg' from and told me how 'The Masked Announcer' had arisen. And he stayed on the phone for over an hour, transatlantic!

MG

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I worked the Nickelodeon Kid's Choice Awards a few times because my friend heads the special effects crew that shoots off all the slime. While I was working running all of the hoses from these giant pumps, I walked through a tunnel in the arena and came face to face with legendary skateboarder Tony Hawk and his family. As I was working, I didn't say anything.

With the same friend I had the strange experience of watching a rather old Ozzy Ozbourne perform from backstage. That was odd. Poor Ozzy can't remember his own lyrics, so he's got a teleprompter which dictates the whole show. And that was probably ten years ago.

Another friend took me to Fox NFL Sunday, and I got to chat with Terry Bradshaw (who is a really friendly, funny guy). And I took a leak next to Marcus Allen.

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And I took a leak next to Marcus Allen.

Played a Temps/Four Tops show in Albuquerque back ca. 1983. Touring rhythm section, local horns. Union rep (grrrrrrrrrrrr.......) fucked up horribly, quoted a club date rate for an afternoon rehearsal and two sold-out shows the same night. Band shows up, does the rehearsal, then demands to renegotiate for the appropriate rate or no band that night. Cash was handy, no problem, paid in full on the spot.

But all the excitement stimulated a need to urinate, and the venue (the Albuquerque Convention Center, iirc) had facilities only in the front lobby (which was a long way off relative to the fullness of my bladder) and the stars' dressing rooms. The Temps were closer, so I knocked on the locked door, which was cracked open to reveal a room full of guys and ladies (FINE ladies, I might add, younger than any of the Temps) looking ready to party like you party when you're in a star's dressing room with 3-4 hours to kill. Started to explain that my need was urgent but brief, didn't even get a full sentence finished before the door was closed with a polite but unmistakably firm "no".

Scurried over to the Tops room, knocked, Duke Fakir answered, let me speak, had a look of disgust on his face but said, yeah, ok, just make it quick and get outta here, which I did. The Tops had no party going on, were just hanging out by themselves, like middle-aged guys on a business trip who couldn't wait to get it over and back home, The contrast between their scene and the Temps' was illuminating. Said thank you, have a good show, on the way out and got, at best, a grunt or two. And a glare from Levi Stubbs. I pity poor Bernadette if she walked away like Rene, that's all I can say.

Long story short - I once took a leak in the Four Tops dressing room. At Duke Fakir's behest, no less!

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tumblr_mej29y7Yxk1r3v6x7o1_1280.jpg

Matana Roberts and me, last night (source, including some kind words) ... and the chocolate santa I brought (to apologize for asking about an interview via her tumblr and being promptly but politely scolded there ... her agent did never reply though, which alienated her).

Anyway ... first went to say hi after her Coin Coin Chapter Two gig in Zurich in March (the result was the photo here) ... just wanted to ask her about taking that pic since she has plenty of fans in the forum where get happy!? had it's origin. But she took lots of time, we had a most pleasant chat for a quarter of an hour and she was genuinely interested in the magazine, too.

In May then, I went to see her in a very small place in a remote area, a solo concert as last night, and after the second band on the bill had finished, while the guys were cleaning up, we (a friend and me) had a lengthy and most pleasant chat with her. Then again last night, not much time, but she was very kind ... anyway, it's all about music, I adore what she's doing with her Coin Coin music and I'm happy to be able to witness it!

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(and has now decided that Birmingham would be a good university for him to go to to study maths :) ).

funny, coincidentally when in birmingham a few weeks ago i stood in front of the university and wondered what studying maths there would have been like :) (decided i would probably have prefered warwick, had i been in the area)

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I was lucky enough to be with the late Brit jazz journo/broadcaster Peter Clayton when he interviewed Sun Ra. Can't remember what was said but mostly Ra spoke quietly about his philosophy. The tape on the Uher ran out after 30 mins but Ra carried on for at least another half hour.. I often wonder what became of the tape for as far as I know it was never broadcast.

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A friend and I worshipped Phil Woods back when we were in high school. We went to a concert he did at the Jazz Museum back in the 70s. My friend knew Phil spoke French, so he kept going up to Phil on the break and saying French stock phrases to him, and Phil asked him, "You speak French?", and my friend said, "No", and Phil looked at him, disgustedly.

After the concert, my friend was under the impression that Phil was now his friend, and he brought me backstage to meet his new "friend". He burst in there dragging me along (reluctantly) saying, "Phil, this is my friend, he's a great jazz player!"

Phil was downing a beer, and when he saw me and my friend, he yelled out, "Get the f-ck outta here!" and flung a beer can at me!

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A friend and I worshipped Phil Woods back when we were in high school. We went to a concert he did at the Jazz Museum back in the 70s. My friend knew Phil spoke French, so he kept going up to Phil on the break and saying French stock phrases to him, and Phil asked him, "You speak French?", and my friend said, "No", and Phil looked at him, disgustedly.

After the concert, my friend was under the impression that Phil was now his friend, and he brought me backstage to meet his new "friend". He burst in there dragging me along (reluctantly) saying, "Phil, this is my friend, he's a great jazz player!"

Phil was downing a beer, and when he saw me and my friend, he yelled out, "Get the f-ck outta here!" and flung a beer can at me!

ROTFLMFAO!!!!!

Too bad you friend couldn't say, "Monsieur Woods, nous avons besoin d'uriner. Pouvons nous utiliser vos toilettes?"

No telling where that would have gone!

Edited by JSngry
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Here's a "backstage" encounter for you!

Overwhelmed, I was.

412189127_73191d2a45_o.jpg

Uh oh ... that brings to mind another thread on a backstage encounter involving Diz, Valerie Wilmer and T-Bone Walker.

Might be interesting to see if ANY of those who witnessed that back then ever dropped in here and told how THEY experienced that ... :huh:

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I remember many years ago having the opportunity to see blues great Albert King perform at an area venue. After the show ended I walked out to the alley when I saw Albert heading out to his van. He was totally exhausted having given everything that night on the stage. He managed to scribble his name on my album. I still own it.

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I posted this in the Brubeck RIP thread but thought it belonged here too.

I liked the quartet before I learned it was not hip. While in high school in Iowa I drove 50 miles to hear the quartet at a concert in Des Moines. After the concert I searched out the band and had a silly high school dialogue with them. Eventually Brubeck said they had to leave for an obligatory reception and asked if I wanted to come along. The meet and greet was in the Fort Des Moines Hotel where they were staying and after a half hour or so, the band said their good byes and we left. Out in the hallway Brubeck said "I’m hungry, let’s get something to eat". Morello wasn’t feeling well and Desmond and Wright said they would take him to his room and tend to him. Brubeck looked at me and said “Let’s get some steaks!” We went to the restaurant in the hotel and had a fine meal. I have retained none of the dinner conversation and it is probably better that way.

Later I learned the things to not like about the music but that never affected my feelings about the man.

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i was 17 and a big fan of Mahavishnu. Went to see Ali Akbar Khan at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and I see John McLaughlin! I stammered something barely intelligible and McLaughlin was quite gracious.

Oh, I once took a leak next to Hank Crawford. Didn't look, didn't pee on hom(or me).

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A friend and I worshipped Phil Woods back when we were in high school. We went to a concert he did at the Jazz Museum back in the 70s. My friend knew Phil spoke French, so he kept going up to Phil on the break and saying French stock phrases to him, and Phil asked him, "You speak French?", and my friend said, "No", and Phil looked at him, disgustedly.

After the concert, my friend was under the impression that Phil was now his friend, and he brought me backstage to meet his new "friend". He burst in there dragging me along (reluctantly) saying, "Phil, this is my friend, he's a great jazz player!"

Phil was downing a beer, and when he saw me and my friend, he yelled out, "Get the f-ck outta here!" and flung a beer can at me!

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When I was a senior in high school in 1976, a friend and I went to see an amazing show at Carnegie Hall--Anthony Braxton in a group with George Lewis, Dave Holland, Barry Altschul, Muhal Richard Abrams, and a couple of others whom I don't recall; the Ted Curson Octet with Nick Brignola and Chris Woods; and the George Coleman Octet with Mario Rivera and I don't know who all else.

Anyway, my friend was and still is a hot-shot photographer, and after the concert he talked us backstage with his camera as "journalists." There's Dave Holland standing there talking to someone. We hesitantly approach and tell him how much we liked the music. He chats with us in a simple, relaxed way for several minutes. I remember mentioning how much I liked the Circle records, from five or six years earlier, and he firmly told me that that stuff was old and I should be listening to what was happening NOW. Then someone calls him away. "Would you guys mind watching my bass?" he asks, and disappears. So we stood there proudly guarding Dave Holland's bass for five minutes backstage at Carnegie Hall. Gosh!!

When leaving we ran into Nick Brignola leaving. It was the first time I'd heard him or heard of him so I told him I thought he was great and how did he spell his name. "Thanks," he says, "B-R-I-G-N-O-L-A." And then he hurried off.

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