Working at a restaurant is a tough gig.
The Misfits pretty much funds the Misfits. It used to cost me money to be in the band. I think we got paid the last gig we ever did. After that, we had to work to support our families.
New York musicians rarely have the time for idle chat and conversation after a gig. Despite popular assumption of our scintillating after-hours, that illusion is overtaken by the constant hustle to juggle a part-time or full-time job, a myriad of errands, a second or third gig of the day, and perhaps a child or two somewhere.
I'm going to take each day and each thing and each gig as it comes at me.
I never thought that I could make a living out of my voice, to be completely honest. I thought that I could probably keep playing pubs. And it was exciting for me to get even just a pub gig in my town or country, when I went to university.
I used to be good with kids, but as I get older, I'm grumpy and terrible with them. As for doing a gig at a 6-year old's birthday party, you couldn't pay me enough.
Growing up I played in garage bands and cover bands with my older brother, and he got us a gig opening up for some hippie jam band. I was 15. I felt like such an adult!
Well I guess I like variety pretty much, but I do enjoy this work very much. Particularly with Buddy on the gig, we get a chance to knock each other out It'just wonderful.
No matter what - rehearsed, under-rehearsed, over-rehearsed, doubts about rehearsing - the first gig is always the first gig, and you put on your little praying hat, batten down the hatch, and do what you do.
I also played with Jimi Hendrix. Jimi would come down and sit in with Retaliation and we would have a ball. He offered me the gig with him at 20 pounds a week, which at that point, was like 60 bucks.
Some people think it's an easy gig working as an extra, but you often have to stay very concentrated for long stretches in challenging conditions.
I was just thrilled to get the gig to begin with. Ten years later to still have it is not only thrilling but also somewhat of a puzzlement.
It took me some time to realize television, for someone like me, was the perfect medium. I like to produce, I like to be detail-orientated, I like to be in charge of a lot of things, and I like to be a storyteller. It's kind of the perfect gig for someone like me.
I could play a gig on the moon and not be nervous about it.
First paying gig, I got 20 bucks. I played at some really weird venue. I don't remember the venue; I just remember it was the last stop on the A train. It was, like, the Far Rockaways, Queens, and it was an audience of, like, three people.
My standing gig in college was playing the El Chico patio on Murfreesboro Road. I got $100, tips, and free quesadillas.
It's not an easy gig, being in the NRL sometimes: you always feel for the boys because you have that mutual respect knowing what they go through.
If a gig goes badly, my main worry is, 'Will these people come back?' Because that will affect my ability to pay the mortgage - but nowadays, I don't really mind what happens, as I think if it all goes wrong for real, you still have to go with it.
What you do is, you just do the gig, enjoy, get on with it, and treat the rest as horse doodle.
There's variables at every single gig. I look forward to those every night. We have a lot of things that happen in our show, a lot of people from the outside watching the show might think it's one schtick after the next. We promised ourselves we have to be there mentally. We have to be aware. We are forced to be aware.
You know, I've never been a comic book person, just because that's not my gig and I don't have a television.
When I was about 12, I had my first paying gig - 8 dollars to play rhythm guitar in a polka band. Pretty soon, I ended up playing in all the bars within driving distance of Abbott, Texas.
The weird thing about the subway is no one looks at each other. So I play the O2 in London. It's a 20,000 capacity venue, and then I'll take the subway to my gig, and everyone's going to my gig, and no one looks at you. If anyone does, they say, 'Hey, you look exactly like James Blunt, only smaller.'
We'll see if we ever do another Ministry gig again or not. I'm not saying yes or no yet. All I'm saying is I know there's no new Ministry studio CDs coming ever again. I promise.
I love the press; I even like the people that don't like me. If it wasn't for those people, no one would know who I was and I wouldn't have a gig.
My first gig was 'The Outsiders.' I was 14 there. And probably one of the more jading experiences in my whole life.
Back in the days of the Smiths, when we first started touring England - this is, like, 1984 - there were these two girls. They were literally vicar's daughters, and they used to follow us to every gig, no matter where we went.
As a fiction writer, all I need is a laptop, and when I'm not teaching, I travel as much as I can, applying for every research grant and overseas gig I hear of, then trying to extend those trips as far as the stipends will go. I love to travel alone.
I come away from a gig thinking, 'Yeah, I'm worth something.' I can still do it and entertain people, and that's worth it.
I loved my soap days. I really loved them. A Martinez and Marcy Walker taught me how to act, basically. All those people pulled together and helped get me started. Like, showed me how to hit my mark, made me do this, made me do that. That was my first long-running professional gig. And it was like, they were just - great, great with me.
When I started I'd fly across the country to do a gig for a hundred bucks.
I'll tell you what I think in general about people who want to make their Broadway debut that are not trained stage actors. Don't they know, Broadway ain't for sissies? It is a tough gig. You are responsible, physically, mentally, emotionally, for eight shows a week, at the top of your game. It's not easy.
I'm a big believer that when we put so much into our jobs - and everyone does - you deserve to be get paid for it instead of doing a gig and then having to work in a bar for eight hours.
If I'm playing a gig in London, it feels so important. The adrenaline rush here is bigger than anywhere else. I kind of like the pressure that London puts you under.
My first time on TV doing stand-up, I actually did this show in Holland called 'The Comedy Factory' hosted by Jorgen Raymann. It was in 2006 in Holland. It was amazing. I had only been doing stand-up for four years, and I booked that gig through the Just For Laughs Montreal festival, and they flew me out and put me up.
I did a smaller gig with an acoustic guitar and a drum machine. In one song, something wrong happened with the drum machine. I tried to cover up the mistake by playing faster and improvising a new song but it became crazy, and I had to admit it was all a mess.