A funny thing happened last night at the Boston Music Awards. My friend Rachel hooked my sister and I up with tickets, VIP passes and the whole 9 yards. I saw many local Boston music celebrities there – Rick Okasek, Frank Black, Steven Tyler, New Kids On The Block and Kim Deal… were absolutely nowhere to be seen (I had you going for a minute there).
However I did see Tom Hamilton, The DropKick Murphys and Vance Gilbert (please hold your applause until all the nominees’ names have been read). I recognized Vance‘s name when I read the BMA website last week and quickly remembered how I knew him.
About 7 years ago, I was working as a student manager at The Brass Taps in Guelph, Ontario Canada. Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights it was a student-bar-madhouse, but on weeknights we’d have a variety of bands and solo performers playing live. One Monday night I came in as a civilian to check out the scene with some friends, and our attention was immediately drawn to the performer onstage. He was a great singer, gifted guitarist and, above all, he was incredibly funny. We were literally rolling on the floor as this guy sang songs about coffee, crime scenes and even a did country western rap. I talked to him after the show, told him I’d spent many years living in Boston and bought 3 of his CDs which I still have to this day. We talked about Boston for about half an hour, had a drink or two then I wished him a happy stay in Guelph and was on my way home.
The next night I was on duty. I arrived at 6 p.m. swapped floats out of the safe for the new shift of bartenders and waitresses that were coming in, went down the checklist of managerial things one has to do and then saddled up to the bar for a coffee. I asked the ‘tender who was playing that night, to which he replied “Some guy named Vance Gilbert”. I smiled and told him I’d seen him the night before and we were all in for a treat.
And indeed we were. Vance played with the same energy level as the night before, had an entirely different set-list and every moment I wasn’t putting out a fire somewhere I was watching the show. He had all the kids laughing, clapping and eating out of his hand. The show ended and he was surrounded by another group of new fans and well-wishers and I went into the office to begin the long tedious process of cashing out for the night.
All of a sudden, one of the bouncers came into the office and said “That dude with the dreadlocks wants his money and he’s being a bit of a dick“. I asked him who he was talking about, ’cause as far as I knew my credit was still good with the Guelph Jamaican cocaine syndicate. “No“, he continued. “The singer guy“. “Oh you mean Vance. He’s a good guy. From Boston. Send him in“.
All of a sudden, “crazy-business-Vance” entered the office and started flailing his arms around, maniacally yapping about how much I owed him, etc. Based on the nice conversation we’d had the night before, I thought he was messing with me. I laughed at him and said hello. He turned things up notch, got right in my face – so much so that one of the bouncers came into the office and went to grab him. I waved off the meathead, stood up and said to Vance “Hey. What the hell is wrong with you? I’m the guy from Boston. Don’t you remember talking to me last night?” He told me he didn’t remember, and he didn’t care. I dropped my pleasant demeanor and told him that his contract (which I had read out of curiosity about an hour before) clearly stated that he got paid at the end of his three night stint, and not a moment before. I was a little pissed off at this point and sat back down, turned around and went back to my work. Vance continued to hoot and holler for a minute or two before giving up and going back to the main bar.
Regardless of that strange altercation so many years ago, it was great to see him sing again last night, and I highly recommend getting out to one of his upcoming shows.
Vance, I thought we were boys.
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