NAKED CITY – JAILHOUSE ROCK!
Anybody who has ever worked for any period of time in the music industry, be they a musician, sound engineer, venue owner or promoter can remember a ‘catastrophe’ – a night where just about everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Whether it was a PA that blew up at the last minute or a drunken lead singer who exploded in the band room, almost everybody has a story to recall.
But what about a gig where not even the word catastrophe could apply to the unmitigated mayhem that was to eventuate? Yes, I can remember one! It was the late 70s in Sydney, a time when the kind of over-regulation we have with licensing and music venues today, was virtually unheard of. BYO gigs were a recipe for overindulgence, but hey, all you needed to do was find a venue. Together with a group of friends, I decided to stage a night at the atmospheric Cell Block Theatre in the grounds of the National Art School, housed in the old Darlinghurst gaol.
The show was aptly named ‘Jailhouse Rock’ and from what I can remember featured Melbourne band The Auto Drifters along with Sydney’s Rugcutters, Hawaiian Housewreckers and MC Mort Fist. The Art School took some persuasion to allow us to hire the venue, but after we had provided a hefty deposit and a guarantee we would reap no damage, the green light was somewhat reluctantly given.
The first portent of impending disaster came when the two girls, employed to look after the door, took ill from food poisoning after they had bought some ill-advised takeaway in nearby Oxford Street. That meant I alone was left to collect the tickets and control the door, a tiny single entrance that barely accommodated a hobbit. Coinciding with our cell block show was a drunken art students’ party which had already seen an ambulance called when a fire eater had set himself alight.
When the boozy students’ party finished early, both teachers and students descended on our gig, demanding to be let in for free, as it was part of their territory. Suddenly I found myself wrestling furiously on the ground with a tubby little art teacher who had tried to barge his way through the tiny hobbit door, almost somersaulting backwards as I resisted his push and shove. At the same time a nasty fight had broken out in the cell block, with one unlucky punter rushed to hospital with a broken jaw. As more and more zombie like art students attempted to crash the party, the BYO charged crowd inside got even rowdier.
At the end of the night the venue resembled a rubbish dump and we stayed behind for what seemed like an eternity to clean up the mess. Unbeknown to us a young woman had crawled under the stage during the gig to sleep off her intoxication, awaking about 3.00am to find a spotlessly clean venue. Outside in the grounds of the Art School, she was soon pursued by an aggressive security dog, a less than friendly Alsatian who regularly patrolled the old gaol at night. With the massive gate firmly locked she managed to climb the wall facing what was then the active Darlinghurst Police Station.
When the cops finally heard her screams for help, they were forced to ring a very grumpy caretaker to come and unlock the gate and rescue the damsel in distress. Needless to say the Art School was not impressed, the tubby little art teacher had also complained he had been assaulted, and our sizeable bond was promptly forfeited. It’s long been said that the Cell Block Theatre is haunted, and whilst I am not a believer in ghosts, the poltergeist had certainly been unleashed that night! If you have a bad gig story to top this one, I would love to hear it.
