Ben Kweller and the (almost) last stage rush

Having this old MySpace-style site is bringing back a few old memories, so here's one from that era: it happened April 27, 2004. I know this because I can type a few details into Google and it tells me what I want to know. 

It was about a month and a half before The Killers would release Hot Fuss and start wearing suits all the time as their signature look. My band at the time had a great idea... we would start wearing suits to all our shows. It was a great couple of months before Brandon Flowers and Co. wrecked it. 

We decided we needed some face-recognition in the Dallas market, so we hatched the dumbest plan ever: when Ben Kweller started "Wasted and Ready" we would all four climb up on stage with him and sing backing vocals. It seemed like a great visual in our heads: four dudes in suits, all circling around, I don't know, one of the microphones? Spread out amongst the microphones? We didn't give it that much thought. 

It's the night of the show, and we're all near the back of the room, pumping each other up. "We're really gonna do this, right?" "Yes, it's going to rule." "Don't chicken out," "You don't chicken out!" Finally, the moment of truth: the dissonant guitar riff, the drummer hitting the snare rims in quarter-note 4/4 time. 

It was go time. 

As I mentioned, we were near the back of the room, and it was pretty packed. I was closest to the stage, so I started politely sliding between elbows and hips, "excuse-me"-ing my way toward the stage. It took longer than I expected to get to the stage, and it was only at that point that I realized: I was the only member of the band who had made it to the front. 

It was going to be a lot easier to convince security that we were supposed to be on stage with Ben if it were the four of us, all in suits. Strength in numbers, exponentially moreso when you're extremely over-dressed for the occasion.

Whatever.

I'm still doing it. 

I leaned in to the security guard and with all the confidence I could muster, I pointed to the stage and lied: "I'm supposed to be up there for the end of this song," I said. "I'm singing backup." 

The guard eyed me for a sec, and I guess I'm a good liar: he stepped to one side and even gave me a boost onto the stage. By this point, Ben was turned around facing the drummer, playing a guitar solo. I waved with two hands to the crowd, and they cheered. in retrospect, Ben must have thought he was really killing it with that guitar solo. 

I stood at his mic and waited for him to return, which only took a few seconds, but in the moment, it felt like forever. I hadn't planned how I was going to vamp until he finished the solo. I hadn't really planned anything at all except "get on stage and sing with Ben Kweller." 

I'll never forget the look in his eye when he turned around and found an extra human at the mic stand. He recoiled slightly, and looked me in the eyes. I smiled and put my hands up in an almost Fonz-like pose: Eyyyyyy, I'm on your stage. 

Given more time to decide how to react, I'm not sure how he would have dealt with me. But at the time, the last chorus was about to start, so he could either have a conversation or sing. He opted to sing. He put an arm around me, I returned the favor, and we finished the song. 

Seventeen years later, I tell this story with a bit of chagrin. Having gone on to play concerts for a living myself, I now know the level of work that goes into them. The booking, promoting, practice, rehearsals, hiring of merch guys, the long drives, the unpredictable sleeping conditions. A lot of work went into that show, and here I was, a dumb kid in a band trying to steal some of the glory. I'm thankful Ben Kweller opted to play along instead of kick me in the stomach, which he would have been well within his rights to do.

Of course, those were different times — times that changed pretty shortly thereafter. Just over seven months after my stupid-but-harmless stage rush, a fan got on stage with a band called Damageplan and fatally shot Dimebag Darrell (of Pantera fame) and three others, injuring three more. 

After that, the act of rushing a stage hasn't ever been the same.

That's not to say it was the last time I was ever on-stage with another act. In October of 2018, my friend Brandon and I went to see Nick Cave. He left the stage, stage right, and when he returned, I noticed that he had about a dozen fans in tow. As he started walking to stage left (where Brandon and I were near the front), I grabbed Brandon and started pressing forward. Sure enough, he let in 10-12 people from our side of the stage as well. We were the last two through the gate before security cut it off. 

I didn't try to sing with Nick Cave. 

But we were up there for two songs, and I got this photo: