Sex, Drugs, And Bubblegum Pop (Week 22)


Sex, Drugs, And Bubblegum Pop, is our most outlandish column to date. Written by Mr. Jayce, vocalist for Secret Secret Dino Club and all-round funny guy, this column isn’t as much about the music as it is the experiences people in the music industry have.

WARNING: This column does and will continue to contain content some readers may find offensive. If you don’t have a sense of humor, this column is probably not for you.

“Chiggity check yoself before you riggity wreck yoself”-Ice Cube

One of the main reasons I love being in the music industry is all the crazy people I get to meet. It’s strange how many different walks of life are attracted to the music business. Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of crazy characters in the professional side of the music business, but the craziest ones exist in the amateur portion. While playing shitty empty venues across the country, I have seen some pretty unique things.

One time, the bass player of the band we were on tour with had his luggage stolen. He was pretty distraught but I figured like most people on the road, he wasn’t going to miss his stuff very much. A while goes on and he’s still frantically looking for his suitcase. I wasn’t that concerned because I was more concerned with spraying the entire green room with adhesive spray.

I couldn’t actually describe to you what was going on in the green room. It was pandemonium. The promoter, who introduced himself as “Lunchbox” had for some reason given us more than 5 beers per person at the show. I would maybe even say 10 beers. The beer never stopped coming and the people never started. This guy was the kind I promoter who friends everyone on Facebook and sends you a thousand event invitations to his events and thinks of it as promotion.

Other than the beer, the show was really horrible. I don’t think we were paid our guarantee. By the end of the night, the promoter was insanely wasted on stage singing with the sublime cover band he booked, and dancing how I would imagine people dance at The Gathering Of The Juggalos. But I had a pretty good time hanging out with my friends none-the-less.

As we are about the leave, the bass player was still really distraught about his luggage. We had accidentally sprayed his remaining clothes hanging up in the green room with beer too. I told him that I would help him replace his clothes and he told me that’s not why he was worried. He then told me he had a gun in his suitcase. A gun.

When I asked him why he had a gun, he answered immediately, kind of disgusted with me and said, “Why don’t you have a gun??”. I said “touché” and that was that.

Mr. Jayce

James Shotwell is the founder of Under The Gun Review. He loves writing about music and movies almost as much as he loves his two fat cats. He’s also the co-founder of Antique Records and the Marketing Coordinator for Haulix. You should probably follow him on Twitter.
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  • anon

    fuuuuuck I love jayce. This is my most favorite thing to read every week.

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