This story is a recap of my brief experience as a bouncer at 'America's Longest Running Rock and Roll Club'.
Where:
The Newport Music Hall - Ohio State University.
The Newport is located at 1722 N. High Street, Columbus, Ohio directly across from the Ohio State University. It sits on the heart of High Street in a central location. Right on the main commercial strip servicing campus. Everyday, thousands of students walk past its doors on their way to and from classes.
Known as "America's longest continually running rock and roll club". The Newport opened in 1923 as a movie theater. In 1970 it was converted into the Agora rock club. Then in 1984 it was purchased and renamed the Newport Music Hall. Much of the original decor from it's theater days still survives. The interior today is a dark, smokey concert style hall with a small wrap around balcony. Beer and hard liquor is served in the back. The sound station is situated in the center of the main aisle way. Right in the middle of the seats. The stage is a small raised area up front and the backstage room is even smaller. Its billed as seating around 2000. But having worked there, I'd estimate its max capacity at closer to 1200.
Oh, and one last thing of note. The bathrooms are horrible. And that's coming from a guy who served five years in the Navy's 7th fleet. They were so bad, you could smell them from 15 feet away. Through closed doors! I don't think they ever got cleaned. I certainly never saw them cleaned (not even once!) during the entire summer I worked there.
For it's christening as the Newport, Neil Young was brought in to play. Other concerts of note there, U2 opened their American tour at the Newport and John Lee Hooker gave his last concert there before his death.
Basically, its hosted anybody and everybody in the music business at one time or another. But it never gets anybody at the height of their popularity. Its only books bands who are on their way up or their way down.
(One exception to that rule - Blue Oyster Cult: BOC routinely rolled into town, at the height of their powers, and played the Newport. But not under the BOC band name. Instead they would book under their original name. Soft White Underbelly. So if you weren't a hardcore fan, you didn't realize who was playing.)
But I'll say this about the Newport. It had a certain air about it (and no I'm not talking about the perpetual cigarette haze!). The place had history. You could feel it when you walked in. And at 1,200 max capacity with a tight 1920's theater layout, the concerts were close, intimate and personal meetings between the fans and bands. It was a great place to see a group. The floor area went right up to the stage. And the stage was small. You could get close enough to your favorite rock god to smell their breath if you wanted. You'd be smashed in like a sardine from all the other people on the floor pushing up but it was there if you wanted it.
My Summer at the Newport:
So how did I wind up working there?
I was back from the Navy and attending classes at OSU. At that time, I lived off campus and was using a gym on North High Street to work out. One day at the gym, I was approached by a guy who worked out around same time I did. He introduced himself as Scott. The manager at the Newport. He said they had an opening for security and wanted to know if I was interested.
It didn't pay much (in fact it hardly paid at all) but it sounded interesting and the cash would come in handy for beer and dollar gyros from Bar Louie's. So I said, "Sure". Scott told me to show up that weekend.
I did.
I got the nickle-dime tour, a rough job description and an introduction to the rest of the crew. The rest of the crew consisted of about six other security guys, two ticket booth workers, a couple co-ed waitresses/barkeeps, and one male OSU student in charge of the main bar downstairs. And of course Scott.
Scott ran a pretty tight ship, despite it being a near 100 year old campus bar/concert hall. But he was fair and looked out for his employees. A decent guy to work for.
Duties:
Underage Drinking;
As a security employee, one of my main duties was to watch out for underage drinkers. They were a problem. The club wasn't trying to be an ass to anyone but we routinely had liquor agents coming in during venues. If we lost our liquor license, it would have been a death blow to the business. So Scott really got after us to watch for people stamped low at the door with drinks.
If I found someone at a table or group stamped low with a drink, I'd talk to the whole group. I'd tell them, I knew someone stamped high had bought the drink. Then I'd ask them how much they paid for all their tickets. After which I'd explain our position with the liquor agents.
By now I'd have everyone's undivided attention. Worried they were all going to get thrown out and have a couple hundred dollars of tickets go down the drain. Not to mention missing their band's show and who knew when they'd be back to play again.
Then I'd take the drink and tell the group not to let it happen again (or I would throw them all out). This was always followed by looks of utter relief. It also earned a lot of good will. I never had to throw anyone out for getting another drink. And I often had people I'd caught, or their whole group, come up after the show and thank me.
Keeping it Copesthetic;
In addition to underage drinkers, we were to work the floor making sure there were no disagreements between customers. To ensure everyone had a good time. If disagreements broke out, we tried to solve them diplomatically. If they couldn't be solved diplomatically...well, then you were going to be asked to leave. If you wouldn't leave voluntarily? Then you got assisted out the door.
Your level of assistance depending on your level resistance.
But during the summer I worked the Newport, I never once saw anyone get punched or hit by a security worker. On average we would escort out a couple people per show. And every now and then, we'd have to wrestle a drunk student out to the door. But that was it. The only people I saw throw or attempt to throw punches were patrons at other patrons or at us.
Stage Divers;
The last main duty was stopping stage divers. "But Ben", you say, "What's so bad about stage diving? It's just some harmless fun."
WRONG.
In fact, you couldn't be more wrong. It looks cool on TV, people diving into a giant crowd and being passed around. But the reality is much different.
The worst injuries sustained by patrons came, not from fights, not from being hit with glass pitchers, not from being stomped on, or even stabbed but from....yes, you guessed it. Stage divers.
People get up on the stage and try and dive into the crowd up front. Which looks like a blast, and it can be, but what they don't realize is the amount of kinetic energy they generate. A 200 pound guy diving six to eight feet out, from above, onto a crowd of people, generates an unbelievable amount of force.
Invariably, there would be a co-ed not looking, and some guys knee would hit her in the head like Stone Cold Steve Austin coming off the ropes at a WWF wrestling match. Cracked skulls and broken bones could happen in the blink of an eye.
At one concert, I was walking the floor and wound up talking with a young lady. She was wearing an eye patch. I asked her what happened. She casually responded, "Oh, a stage diver". She'd lost her eye. She was standing almost exactly where we were. By the right side of the stage where the brass railing ran separating the next level. A stage diver hit her while she wasn't looking. It drove her head into the railing. The corner of the railing. And popped her eye out of the socket. Permanently blinding her in that eye.
We did not like stage divers.
Bands I Worked:
During my summer at the Newport, they had a constant flow of bands coming through the doors. Usually, several a week. National and international bands, country bands, punk bands, rock bands, local bands. You name it, it came through the Newport.
I can't remember all the shows that I worked but here's a few of them:
Squeeze,
Dave Matthews Band,
Tori Amos,
Henry Rollins,
GWAR,
They Might be Giants,
Alex Frehley of Kiss,
(I also recall a number of Death Metal and Christian Death Metal bands that summer.
Yes. There is such a thing as Christian Death metal. But here's everything you need to know about the differences between regular Death Metal and Christian Death metal.
There are none.
They BOTH suck! (and the worst fans). Death Metal fans would routinely throw shit at you from the mosh pit floor or try and spit on you. Yah, the Christian Death Metal fans too. Apparently the Jesus Loves message somehow got lost in all the growling lyrics!)
The shows were interesting to work and it was great to see the musicians on stage and to mix with them a bit back stage. Get a feel for what they were like when they weren't performing.
SQUEEZE;
Fantastic band. Most bands that came through really didn't have much talent. And if you didn't have talent, there was no way to conceal it on the small stage at the Newport.
Squeeze had loads of talent. It was oozing out of their pores. Probably the best band I saw come through.
THE DAVE MATTHEWS BAND;
If Squeeze was the most talented then Dave Matthews was a close second. Another A-list band that put on a great show.
TORI AMOS;
Wow, what to say about Tori.... Probably talented but not my style of music. On top of that, what an ego. Ok, to be fair maybe she just had a bad night. But she stopped the show (twice) to chastise the crowd for not paying enough attention to her. Then threatened to walk off the stage. Yah, whatever. At least her yelling at the crowd woke them up from her snoozer of a show.
HENRY ROLLINS;
The renaissance man himself. Punk rocker, poet, TV star, movie star. Maybe not the most talented musician to appear that summer but no-one could match his energy level. Unbelievable. Rollins came out wearing nothing but a pair of spandex biker shorts. Got down into a horse crouch. And stayed there for two and half hours while he sang non-stop. Amazing guy.
...And he hates stage divers.
THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS;
Another really good band. Very down to earth guys as well.
In the middle of the show, between sets, the lead singer walked over to me while I was up on the side of the stage and said, "This is my fourth show in five days. Man, I really don't want to be here." He looked exhausted.
Then he walked back out, turned on the charm, and proceeded to pump out the songs at 110% energy. Those guys were professionals. They knew you had to perform whether you wanted to or not.
GWAR;
If you have never seen a GWAR concert, they're like...jeez, how do you explain GWAR? The best comparison I can come up with is, think KISS, but gone horribly wrong.
They do put on a show though. Complete with blood canons and severed limbs (fake, not real ones). Their fans are pretty loyal too.
During their show, I was working up front to keep fans off the stage. The lead singer grabbed the blood canon and started spraying it straight on me. Sort of a, 'Stick it to the man/authorities gesture' for their rabid fans.
Pissed me off.
And I'd been through far, Far, FAR worse at Survival Evasion Resistance Escape (SERE) training. (A story for another time).
So I turned around, without moving out of the way, and stared at the guy with a "Are you done yet?" look on my face. He gave up and moved on to spraying the crowd. After the show, Scott came over, high fived me and gave me the 'Stud of the Night' award.
ACE FREHLEY OF KISS;
Saving the best for last.
Not the most talented, although he is a hell of guitar player. Not the most energetic, although the show nearly brought the Newport down to its foundation. But holy crap, what a night.
Ace Frehley, the guitar player from KISS, was touring for his solo album. Ala Slash from Guns and Roses. They'd booked the Newport for one night. And we drew every red-neck, rocker in a three State radius. The line was around the block before opening and people were showing up from outside Ohio, trying to get in, right up to close.
From the minute we opened the front door, till the time we locked it up, the show was one continuous running bar fight.
We spent the whole night breaking up fights, throwing people out, wrestling people out, and dodging punches and projectile vomit! HOLY CRAP. It was exactly what you imagine when you think of 80's, Sunset Strip, rock and roll. Except it was the 90's at the Newport!
They brought their own security too. A guy named 'Bear'. And he looked like one. Tree trunk legs, barrel chest, hair everywhere, with a beard and mullet down to the middle of his back. He looked like a giant fur covered brown bear. And he had the disposition of one as well.
During the show, a fan at the front of the stage reached up and got a hold of the cord to one of the mike stands. He started slowly pulling the mike over to the edge of the stage. Standing there, his head was just above the stage floor. Like a football all teed up.
Bear spotted him, ran over from back stage and tried to kick a field goal. A 60 yarder. Into the wind. The guys head snapped back and when it came forward again, it had instantly swelled to twice its normal size.
Later, another moron, who apparently didn't see what happened to the first moron, tried to finish pulling the mike. Bear spotted him. He ran over, reached down and grabbed the guy by his shirt front and proceeded to lift him bodily out of the crowd with one hand. Aka - Darth Vader. Except he grabbed the wrong guy. He had him half way off the floor, with ONE hand, when his buddies convinced Bear he grabbed the wrong person. I think the guys life flashed before his eyes.
Not long after that, I was working my way through the crowd, trying to avoid the pools of vomit and beer, when I saw one of our guys, Mike, in a wrestling match with a patron. The patron and he were locked up with their arms. But I could see the patron trying to get his right arm loose. So he could come around with right hooks at Mike's head.
I jumped down onto floor level and grabbed the guys right arm. Holding him in place. The two of us then wrestled him over to the double side-doors off the back stage. The patron was small but incredibly strong. I don't know if he was hyped up on drugs but the two of us (and we weren't small) took every ounce of our strength to get him over to the side doors. Several times he almost broke free. Still trying to come around with right hooks.
We got him up to the double steel doors. But we couldn't let go to open the doors. Not without getting punched. Not a problem though. The doors had a push bar handle to open them. So we shoved him into the push bar and through the doors.
Except ...
Someone, in an effort to maintain crowd control on the door, had latched the bolt at the top. Problem. He hit the doors and rebounded off like a ping pong ball. Which took some of the steam out of him. We grabbed him, and while he was still dazed, threw the bolt. Back into the doors he went, except this time through and out. We slammed the doors shut behind him. Which latch from the inside but are locked from the outside. However, if you hit them hard enough from the outside it would pop the latch and spring open the doors.
Soon the patron started banging non-stop on the doors. Yelling, "Let me in Mother F#$%rs!!! I'll kick your assess!" And other similar crap. After a couple of minutes of this, Mike pulled out a canister of mace, which he always carried, cracked the door and sprayed it in the guys face.
A short pause, then more banging on the doors. "Let me in @ssho!#4s!!!" And other similar crap. After a couple more minutes of this, Mike again cracked the door, stuck the mace out and sprayed the guy in the face.
A much longer pause, then slow weak pounding on the doors. "Let me in.....F@#$rs....I'll.....kick your...@ss&$#s".
Mike cracks the door, out goes the mace, long spray, Mike closes the door and ... no more pounding.
(Mike and I left the bolt unlatched. It was a fire code violation. Not too mention it made our jobs harder. We also told off the person who latched it.)
But the worst incident was still to come.
About an hour after mace man, I was walking the floor when a guest grabbed my arm and said, "You need to come quick! A guys been stabbed!"
Perfect. Just what I need to round out the night. A stabbing.
The guest led me over to the left side of the Newport where a patron was face down on the floor. I bent down to get a better look in the gloomy light and examined him. Sure enough. The guys face down with a large pool of blood spreading out from under his head.
Crap.
I waved over one of the other security guys. Showed him the guest and had him call for an ambulance. While he ran to call the squad I stayed put to keep people from trampling the patron. While I waited, I examined him again. Looking at the chest to see if he was still breathing. Yup, going up and down. Some good news there. Then I notice the half dozen popcorn puffs/kernels in the pool of blood.
Wait a minute. We don't serve popcorn...
So I pulled out my mag-light and turned it on the pool of blood. Nope. Not popcorn. It's his freaking TEETH!!!
Right about then the squad arrived out front. There are always ambulances close to campus on the weekend. Thank god for fast response times. Two paramedics came back with a stretcher.
They turned the guy over and examined him. No knife wounds. Instead, the guy had gotten so drunk that he passed out in mid-drink from a bottle of beer. He fell face forward. Landed on the beer bottle, smashing the bottle while lacerating his face and knocking out all of his front teeth.
Blood was everywhere. His face and lips were severely cut and through the bloody mess of flesh you could see the broken teeth behind.
The paramedics loaded him onto the stretcher and hooked him up to an oxygen mask. They then started wheeling him out the to the front door. I cleared a path in front of them through the crowd. Once curbside by the ambulance, they retracted the wheels on the stretcher and began loading him.
But during the walk out to the curb, the O2 had done its job. The pure O2 flowing into the guy brought him out of his passed out state. He sat up in the stretcher. Ripped off the O2 mask. And yelled through his mangled lips and teeth, "Ace Frehley ROCKS!"
Then he passed out again and slumped back onto the stretcher.
I turned to the paramedics and said, "Man, I hope he feels like that in the morning." That brought a smile and a laugh to the paramedics.
The concert finished soon after. We rolled the last drunk out the front door and began the process of cleaning up the war zone. What a night.
Post Script:
Once fall quarter started, I focused on classes and quit working at the Newport. It was interesting. I enjoyed working there. But it basically didn't pay.
Also my ears were taking a beating.
There are no noise restrictions at the Newport. You can crank up the sound as far as you want. And many bands did. There were literally 10' high walls of speakers on stage. Some concerts I spent entirely in front of the speakers. Trying to keep stage divers from making it up. My ears would ring for days afterwards.
I've been back to the Newport twice. Fairly recently as well. I went back to catch Zoso. A Led Zeppelin tribute band. (I'm a big Zep fan. Jimmy Page is hands down the greatest rock and roll guitarist, living OR dead, to ever pick up a six string.)
It was the same old Newport. Smokey, dark, close, but a great place to see bands. The sound was so loud for the Zoso concert, that every time the sub-woofers on the speakers put out for the drums it created a sound wave strong enough to ripple your clothes and make your pant legs flutter.
Oh, and the bathrooms were still horrible!
One last note on the Newport. During my time there, they had a policy of letting in the local girls from the strip clubs for free. Every big show, back stage would have a group of strippers from the Blue Diamond watching the band from backstage.
And no, I never saw anything like that happen backstage. So get your heads out of the gutters! Management liked having attractive women in the club. It was good for business. And the bands didn't seem to mind either.
It all added to the Sunset Strip vibe the Newport exuded. If you ever have a chance to see a band there that you like. I highly recommend it.
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