Whatever you do, DON’T RAGE QUIT THE BOARDGAME
A lot of touring with a close knit band who don’t shove you in a separate bus has been about banter and having a laugh. To be fair, when you’ve driven accross Germany for the 8th time that month with short sleeping shifts – it’s pretty important to prevent everyone from throttling eachother, even though it is quite a fine line.
But as the soundman, no matter how welcome you feel, YOU AREN’T IN THE BAND! And they’ll make that perfectly clear in the hierarchy of banter. From the 3piece set up it seems to go Frontman > Drummer > Bassist > Person who makes the tea > ANYONE who is around the band > That shitty Behringer effects pedal who someone remained on the pedal board for last 10 years despite sounding shit > Soundman. END.
So what I’m really trying to say here is that us lot, no matter how professional, charming, funny (Oh, I flatter myself) we think we are, we are the bottom rung. So it’s probably best not to say anything that can mildly be left to haunt us. But I managed to show myself in my worst, most pathetic light when I got a little bit ragey at a boardgame. And before you ask, no – I’m not 5 years old, and no it wasn’t hungry-hungry hippo (But I may buy that as a christmas band present).
It came on a rather disappointing gig night, where there was too much time and very little to do other than fixate on the fact I remembered I downloaded Monopoly on my iPad about 4 years ago. As we were playing, I think it was quite easy to see I was the one you could pick at. You know the one you can moan at and tell them they’re playing unfairly to guilt them into the sale? That’s me! As much as I like to pretend I’m the stone cold business mind of the game who won’t trade without getting my fair share as well all your money as well – it’s total bollocks.
So it came to my first full board game with the guys. They read me like a children’s book within about the first minute. And it was quite similar to vultures circling over the carcass of some small but tasty animal. But I really wanted a property. I can’t tell you which one it was – but I was the annoying one who was still trying to broker the deal in-between turns, no matter how many time I was told to shut-the-****-up. but finally I got my way, I shook the frontman’s hand. I had done it in theory! I was going to win. They’d then concede I’m the best at monopoly – I’d win, they’d all buy me a beer and decide that I was far too good to be soundman. They’d name the band after me and I’d gain eternal fame. I have a good imagination, granted…
BUT THE TWAT GOT TO HIS TURN AND DEALT WITH SOMEONE ELSE!!!
Thats not right, thats not ethical. We had a gentleman’s agreement didn’t we?!? Bastard. I’m going to release all those live recordings where your voice croaked or where no-one laughed at your jokes. That’d show you.
Anyway, I did what any self respecting relatively young people who grew up with any form of gaming. Just like I did with FIFA in uni, I rage quit. In fact, in quite spectacular fashion (as I knew I’d lost), I sold all my properties to the one person on the board who hadn’t screwed me over on this board game of capitalism, puffed out chests and hatred. And I sold them for nothing. Just so I could make sure the others had no chance of winning. And wow, was I regarded as a whiney quitter.
It lasted a long time as well – these guys knew they’d found my weak spot. In the future, I’d concede any board game due to my over competitive and mildly explosive temper. What made it even worse was that I bought them all a beer in exchange for us starting the game again. Who in their right mind would do that?
So, in short. If you want any chance of somehow attempting to climb the seemingly impossible ladder of band and crew banter – whatever you do – DON’T RAGE QUIT THE BOARDGAME.
And yes, I am still the worst at Monopoly -_-