Monday, March 8

Spot the gig cliche
Nicked from Fragile cus it's funny.

Type 1- The Wannabe Groupie

Pigtails? Check.
Over-the-knee-socks? Check.
Belt length skirt? Check.
Morals? In short supply.
Key Phrase: "I luv yooooooooooou *enter band member name* "OMG OMG OMG,HE LOOKED AT ME! HA, he soooooo wants me!"
Groupies. Gotta love them. Well, actually no you don't, most people love to hate them, but you can guarantee that they'll always be there. Wannabe groupies, obsessive 'fans', band aids, call them what you like, these girls, like a bad rash (that's all they'll have if you're lucky) just won't go away. Look at the front of any gig and you'll see them, brandishing fat marker pens and crudely drawn banners scrawled with the lovelorn messages of a hormonal teenage girl. 'I luv u Dave!' 'Bob is well fit!' 'F*** me Fred!' You get the picture.

Type 2- The 'Journalist'

Dictaphone? Check.
Questions? Check.
Backstage Pass? Check.
Camera? Check.
Key Phrase: If female: "GOD DAMN IT, I AM NOT A GROUPIE!". "NO you can't have my backstage pass. No not even if you pay me. " "No, this isn't an excuse to meet the band, I really AM interviewing them. Argh. FINE, don't believe me then, I'll phone the tour manager. *sighs*"
Aha. The 'journalist'. Normally seen entering venue early, scowling at security who mistake them for Type 1 ( wannabe groupie), or seen leaving tour bus, grinning at groupies to wind them up. Second group that people love to hate. Often to be found skulking by the bar or with band members after the gig, sometimes frantically scribbling journalistic gems in a notebook if they've actually bothered to review the gig. 'Journalists' are very easy to wind up, just accuse them of being a wannabe groupie.

Type 3- The "Real Fan"

Numerous autographed items? Check.
Band t-shirt? Check.
Extra thick coat for waiting outside the venue for seven hours? Check.
Key Phrase: "God, she blatantly wants to shag the band." "Yeah I've known the band for X amount of years" "I know the drummers sisters boyfriends half cousin!"
Not to be mistaken for Type 1, the 'real fan' talks a lot louder, but doesn't squeal. Normally heard bragging about the time they met the drummers sisters boyfriends half cousin, they'll talk your ear off and generally try to make out that they're more important than everyone else, ever. Permanently clutching handfuls of signed memorabilia, they look down on Type 1, and hate Type 2 as they get to meet the band when they "aren't real fans".

Type 4- The Desperate Unsigned Band Member
Demo? Check.
Another Demo? Check.
Another Demo, just in case? Check.
Latest set of photos of your band taken on your mates budget camera? Check.
Key Phrase: "PLEASE can you listen to our demo? We're called erm... 'Binbag.' " "oh yeah, I've just remembered, I've got my demo with me, could you give it to *enter band member name* or their manager? Please?" "PLEEEEEEEASE????"
The desperate unsigned band member is usually seen hovering around the backstage entrance, talking to anyone wearing a suit. Normally fidgeting wildly, for fear that some record company bigwig might walk in while they're in the loo, meaning they've missed their "big break". Most of these bands aren't actually very good.

Type 5- The Indie Schmindie Kid

"I Hate NME" badge? Check.
Obscure band cd? Check.
Permanent sneer? Check.
Key Phrase: "Ugh, they're such sellouts." "Not an original bone in their body!" "They're not as good as Upside Down Meerkat Tango were in the early nineties..... What do you mean 'who????' Cretin. They've blatantly stolen that riff!"
Noone actually knows why the Indie Schmindie kid actually goes to gigs, seeing as they never like the band. They appear to go just so they can bitch and moan about how the band are "sellouts" or how they've stolen their riff from some obscure 90's indie band who were never good enough to hit the bigtime. The Indie Schmindie kid is everyones nemesis. They hate Type 1 and dismiss them as "brainless airheads", despise Type 2 as they feel they "kiss bands asses", and ignore Type 3 for "deluding themselves", and write Type 4 off as "Unoriginal, uninspiring." Indie Schmindie kids are normally seen by the bar at the back of the room, or standing at the side of the stage with their arms crossed.

Type 6- The Lovers

Copious amounts of lipgloss? Check.
Love hearts? Check.
Matching outfits? Check
Key Phrase: "Oooooh I love you snugglebunny fluffykins!" "Everyone else is just jealous sweetie." "No, we're not moving."
The Lovers. There's always a few at every gig. They normally position themselves at the very front by the barrier, ensuring that they block everybodys view, and proceed to slobber all over each other with the sole aim of discovering just how far down each others throats their tongues can go. If someone tuts or tells them to get a room, The Lovers will roll their eyes, giggle, and say it's because we're 'Just jealous'. No, it's because we want you to get a room. Alternatively, you have the shy lovers who favour the darkened corners of rooms. When asked what they thought of the band after the gig they respond "Huh? Gig? There was a band on?"

Type 7- The Drunk

Vodka? Check.
Beer? Check.
Wall/Floor to cling onto? Check
Key Phrase: "Iiiiii am NOT drunk *hic*." "aaaaaah jus' one more... oopsh." *to the band* "YOOOOOOOU SUCK!"
There's always one. Really likes their drink, but can't handle it. The Drunk is usually alone due to their friends pretending that they don't know them after they launch into a tipsy rendition of YMCA or the Cheeky Girls. It's quite impressive just how drunk they can get on other people's money, insisting that "oops, they've lost their wallet!". Normally drunk before the first support band come on, they then weave and stumble their way to the front, where they cling onto the barrier for dear life. After several vodkas, The Drunk suddenly feels that they are the worlds greatest music critic, spitting out such gems as "youuuuu shuck! har har!" "IIIII can play better than yooooou when I'm pisshed!" "guitarist/singer/ one with long hair, I want youuuuuuur babies! You still shuck though!" Between bands they fight their way back to the bar or nearest toilet, until eventually they can't walk anymore, and find themselves clinging to the floor so that they don't fall off.