Old Man Yells At Clouds #1 – Bringing the Backline

Words by George Gadd

Backline. Without it, the show doesn’t happen. So why does it always manage to give musicians and promoters such a headache? And why is it always the last thing that’s organised?

To lift the curtain, break the illusion and show how the sausage gets made, let me set the scene. You’ve announced a gig months in advance, tickets are selling, it’s the week of the show, and suddenly you’re added to a group chat with 15 other people - sometimes strangers - all arguing over who is bringing what, each tossing out the most random excuses. In my case personally, it’s usually: “Amps are heavy and I can’t be arsed carrying them up flights of stairs.”

Look…I’m old, and my back hurts!

There’s an unwritten rule in the DIY and local scene: the headliner provides backline to keep changeovers smooth, rather than swapping amps - and in some cases entire drum kits - between sets. It streamlines the night and keeps things on time. Yet somehow, this simple courtesy is always a potential minefield depending on who you’re gigging with.

Some venues will alleviate this burden and happily provide a house backline, but not every venue can facilitate it. Space, budget, and staff limitations mean that sometimes you’re on your own.

But I get it, you’ve scrimped and saved over the years to pull together the funds to afford equipment that you’re incredibly passionate about and then out of nowhere you’ve got to lend it to a complete stranger for 30 minutes. It’s ok to be precious, just communicate that ahead of time!

I recall one particular gig many years ago when the ‘local band ego’ reared its ugly head. The night before a four-band bill, we were told that the supports could under no circumstances use the headliner’s kit - the headliner “had just bought a brand new drum kit” and “didn’t want people playing it.” We were a late addition, our name wasn’t even on the line-up, we were playing shortly after doors, and we weren’t getting paid. Rather than ask the other two supports, we were approached by the promoter in full headless chicken mode that we’d have to bring a kit or be dropped from the gig. This was early days into my gigging career - but in hindsight, I probably should have just walked. It’s not like anyone even knew we were on the line-up!

After many calls and frantic messages, we caved and brought an entire drum kit anyway - and ended up lending most of it to the headliner’s drummer anyway. It remains a running joke in our band: “Yeah, of course mate - do you want me to lend you my sticks as well?”

But I get it, you’ve scrimped and saved over the years to pull together the funds to afford equipment that you’re incredibly passionate about and then out of nowhere you’ve got to lend it to a complete stranger for 30 minutes. It’s ok to be precious, just communicate that ahead of time!

Yet for all the headaches, moments like these make me appreciate the DIY scene across the UK. There is a camaraderie that masks the chaos. Someone will jump in if a cable is forgotten, a string snaps, or a pedal dies mid-set. Who am I to be hypocritical? I played a set at a festival the other weekend and had to borrow a plectrum and capo.

Backline may be a constant albatross I bear as long as I continue to gig. When I was a kid going to my first shows, it wasn’t even something I considered. My early gigs were solo affairs, so I didn’t have to deal with it until I started playing in bands. School of Rock conveniently left out the scene where they all bickered over who was bringing the backline - and, more importantly, the inevitable back problems from lugging amps around. Maybe they could put that one in the sequel?