Echo and the Bunnymen played the last show of their tour at House of Blues on December 9. The band started later than expected. A group of five Latino guys who left at 1:15 a.m. yelled back toward the club, "Thanks for starting an hour late, assholes!" After the show, I asked guitarist Will Sergeant about the late start. He said, "We're really sorry about that. Our soundman fell asleep."
A patron I'd seen disputing his check ("I had 10 beers, not 12") sat down in front of the band's tour bus. When a roadie tried to open the door and couldn't, they got into an argument. A few cops came over, and it looked as if they gave the guy a ticket for being drunk in public.
A few minutes later, six bicycle cops rode up. An ambulance arrived. A guy was "escorted" out of the club, and I heard him say something about a woman who had been stabbed. Soon after, paramedics brought someone out on a gurney, and the cops left.
Six fans waited until 2:00 a.m. for singer Ian McCulloch. He spoke while he signed a CD for a woman. It was hard to hear what he said, and I asked if he was hoarse. He said, "Some people like horses. Some like donkeys." As some friends walked by, he stopped signing to hug them. Then he started to sign another CD, and I asked him what Doors song he'd cover next (the band has done "People Are Strange" and "Soul Kitchen"). He said, "I already talked to you! Let me talk to these guys. I have to stay in order here."
The lady whose disc was being signed then asked McCulloch to use a silver paint pen because the album she'd brought was black. McCulloch said, "No. It will end up all over me." But, as he waved to another passerby, she switched pens on him. He signed without noticing.
Echo and the Bunnymen played the last show of their tour at House of Blues on December 9. The band started later than expected. A group of five Latino guys who left at 1:15 a.m. yelled back toward the club, "Thanks for starting an hour late, assholes!" After the show, I asked guitarist Will Sergeant about the late start. He said, "We're really sorry about that. Our soundman fell asleep."
A patron I'd seen disputing his check ("I had 10 beers, not 12") sat down in front of the band's tour bus. When a roadie tried to open the door and couldn't, they got into an argument. A few cops came over, and it looked as if they gave the guy a ticket for being drunk in public.
A few minutes later, six bicycle cops rode up. An ambulance arrived. A guy was "escorted" out of the club, and I heard him say something about a woman who had been stabbed. Soon after, paramedics brought someone out on a gurney, and the cops left.
Six fans waited until 2:00 a.m. for singer Ian McCulloch. He spoke while he signed a CD for a woman. It was hard to hear what he said, and I asked if he was hoarse. He said, "Some people like horses. Some like donkeys." As some friends walked by, he stopped signing to hug them. Then he started to sign another CD, and I asked him what Doors song he'd cover next (the band has done "People Are Strange" and "Soul Kitchen"). He said, "I already talked to you! Let me talk to these guys. I have to stay in order here."
The lady whose disc was being signed then asked McCulloch to use a silver paint pen because the album she'd brought was black. McCulloch said, "No. It will end up all over me." But, as he waved to another passerby, she switched pens on him. He signed without noticing.
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