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Post by bunkerfan on Nov 14, 2011 11:47:41 GMT
A documentary about the work of roadies during a tour of Germany by Jethro Tull in 1992. Some longer live recordings are included in the 25-minute documentary. It's a tough job as a roadie. While Mr. Anderson may enjoy his celebration evening before, the guys have to get stuck in again vigorously to reduce equipment and instruments and to ship in the trucks. And build the facility, there are always one or another technical problem to be solved. In the evening, everything has to work, otherwise there is trouble with Mr. Anderson.....Enjoy. A maddogfagin/bunkerfan Production
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Post by nonrabbit on Nov 14, 2011 14:32:39 GMT
Excellent Thank you! How does one become a Roadie - seriously? I don't mean now - my Roadie days are over
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Post by steelmonkey on Nov 14, 2011 17:24:58 GMT
You start as the unpoplar, suspected booger-eating nerd who rolls the slide projectors between classrooms in elementary school.
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Post by nonrabbit on Nov 14, 2011 17:43:46 GMT
You start as the unpoplar, suspected booger-eating nerd who rolls the slide projectors between classrooms in elementary school. sh*t rules me out then
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Post by steelmonkey on Nov 14, 2011 18:42:58 GMT
I suppose you could be given special dispensation to skip the juvinille booger-eating stage and skip directly to high school loser with pocket protector and multi-colored pen set....many, many, many hours in front of pinball machines or video games, please...oh yeah...forget it...future roadies get their driver's licenses on the first day they are legally old enough to drive...ROAD-ies.
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Post by bustamove on Nov 15, 2011 17:52:27 GMT
Thanks for posting, I haven't seen this before. For myself I think being a roadie would turn a fun part of life into work.
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Post by steelmonkey on Nov 15, 2011 18:01:09 GMT
I too, would do it in a second...despite the...uh...snotty comments. I actually sold t-shirts for about a week...in 1975 I talked to a t-shirt seller guy in the parking lot of a TULL show in El paso and he 'hired' me...a few weeks later I hitch-hiked to Salt Lake City and met his group...selling posters after gigs and against the law...the first night found me selling posters of Mark Farney...of Grand Funk who has just played, but with long hair...and he had just had a haircut...and i got a couple nickels for evey $1.00 poster I sold....I lasted a week, going all over the mid-west following Grand Funk and never earning more than my share of motels, gas and food expenses...when the 'tor' got to Denver, my home, I came to my senses and stayed. I'll never forget the hellish, long rides, cramped into the backseat of a freezing, little car with my esteemed colleagues who had exactly three 8-tracks: Jesse Colin Young live, Al Stewart year of the Cat and Fireball by Deep Purple.....oh yeah...and 'All Day Music' by WAR...over and over and over again....all day music indeed!
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Post by bunkerfan on Nov 15, 2011 19:16:37 GMT
Thanks for posting, I haven't seen this before. For myself I think being a roadie would turn a fun part of life into work. Thanks for your comment bustamove and welcome to The Forum from me. My one experience of being a roadie was when I helped carry some amps etc. up the stairs of a workingmans club for a group called 'Geordie', just to get in for nothing. The groups lead singer was Brian Johnson now with AC/DC. Now that's another story. Here's a link to The Forums youtube channel where you can view all our video's. www.youtube.com/user/Jethrotullforum?feature=mheeCheers bunkerfan
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Post by bustamove on Nov 16, 2011 0:16:51 GMT
Thanks Bunkerfan. I remember seeing a ad for Jethro Tull stage help/roadie in Melody Maker in the 70's and fantasizing quite a bit about it.
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Post by steelmonkey on Nov 16, 2011 14:55:21 GMT
My high school friend and I sent Chrysalis a polite letter saying we were hoping to run away with Tull, in any capacity, when school ended. We got back a polite 'NO'...but the address on the envelope gave us the info we needed to stop by the office when we were in L.A. a few months later and walk out with War Child belt buckles.
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