Question Of The Week: What Is Your Worst Live Concert Story?


So there I was, knee-deep in blood and guts, when Lemmy asks me to borrow a cup of sugar…

Going to a live concert can be an incredible experience. You get to enjoy the songs you love performed by the bands you love. The live setting allows you an intimate experience where you can truly appreciate the talent and ability of the musicians while directly supporting them. Maybe you go with friends or meet some new people. Perhaps you will discover a new band. Concerts are a wonderful thing…until they’re not.

Last week, we asked “What is your worst live concert story” on Facebook and Twitter and, oh boy, did we get some responses. So many that we’re going to split this into 2 posts. Some are funny, some are cringe-worthy, some are horrifying. A few are all three.

Here’s my story: Eleven years ago I saw Type O Negative with my girlfriend. I believe this was the heaviest concert she had been to up to that point. For those of you who never got the chance to see them or just don’t know, Type O Negative’s crowds were notoriously terrible. Good example: Peter Steele splashed some wine onto the crowd, saying “The power of Christ compels you…uh, you should probably get and AIDS test,” to which an older woman in the crowd says, “That’s my kinda man!” Shudder. I don’t know what it was, but for some reason, TON brought out the drunks, the addicts, the misanthropes, the assholes, the…wait, I totally understand why their audience was full of awful people.

It didn’t help that the band didn’t come out for over an hour after their direct support Brand New Sin finished. Rather than having house music play, the Chicken Dance song played on repeat. The lights would dim and everyone would cheer because the show was about to start. Just kidding. The lights would come back up and the Chicken Dance song would start again.

Type O Negative finally starts and everything is great for a while. In between songs, a group of women start pushing through the crowd and shove my girlfriend. She shoves them back. I jump in the middle to try to cool things down when out of the corner of my eye, I see a fist. I duck, take a few steps back and proceed to spear the guy, Goldberg-style, landing on top of him and dealing several punches. A small melee ensures and my girlfriend socks another guy in the face before the security guards come in. They saw what happened, throw the guy out and we get to stay, angry and frustrated, but unharmed.

As the night wears on, the crowd thins a bit and we get to watch the rest of the set with some distance from people. Or so I thought. A guy standing directly in front of us falls down during the set, on to my feet. I pick him up. A minute later, he falls down again, I pick him up. By the fourth of fifth time, I stopped helping him. He was so far gone on whatever that he couldn’t maintain and upright position. We took off during Black No. 1. On the plus side, I got to see Type O Negative. On the negative side, I had to be near Type O Negative fans. Still, it could have been much worse. Just check out some of these responses.




What are your worst concert stories? Let us know in the comments.

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