Among the rest of the debris in my All The Rest Is Noise folder on my home computer, is a list of possible topics to write about and at the top is ‘Giving Away Setlists’. This addition was almost certainly prompted by being abused by someone from the audience at some point, behaviour which I feel is a little harsh. But then I would, wouldn’t I? After all, they probably just see some anonymous surly roadie who is deliberately ignoring their pleas for an on-stage souvenir and to be fair, that belief is true but only to a certain extent. There are good reasons why I’m not acknowledging these requests and understanding these reasons might go some way to avoiding much frustration and disappointment. So, here is an explanation of why you usually get ignored when you are screaming “CAN I HAVE A SET LIST PLEASE?” at the top of your voice at the end of a gig.
The first few minutes after a performance has finished, when the house lights come up, is probably the busiest time of the day for the backline crew. A gargantuan struggle is about to take place- think something along the lines of Godzilla Vs Destroyer or those dinosaurs in One Million Years BC- as, in front of the very eyes of what remains of the audience, a process that has carefully taken all day to achieve will be attempted in reverse and preferably completed under a two hour threshold. Because the main departments involved in putting together a large gig (i.e. sound, lighting, set and backline) are all going to try to get their gear out of the building as fast as possible.
This is a crucial time for the backline crew because even though we were the last to put our gear in place earlier in the afternoon, after generously giving others all the time they need, we get very little chance to safely make sure that various delicate items like FX boards, cabling looms and other accessories are out of the way before the lighting and sound crews descend onto the stage. This situation is complicated by the presence of what are known as ‘local crew’ who are persons from whichever city you happen to find yourself and who are brought in to supply the lifting/pushing/carrying manpower required for the whole thing to happen. Like the Uruk Hai from Lord Of The Rings, who they sometimes physically resemble, these persons were bred for a single purpose. In this case that purpose is to get the job finished before the pub shuts. They have no time for niceties and will often start pulling on cables, unplugging stuff, rolling cases around and blocking your way. Hence, the poor backline technician has his hands full with ensuring the safety of his gear and has no time to be pulling up setlists from the stage floor.
I do sympathise with the person whose life may not be complete without a set list, because I have been that person in the past. In fact, back when I was a teenager I attended many punk and post-punk gigs and you could plainly see from the front row that the set lists were hand written. Laptops and portable printers were still some years away. In my naïve mind I assumed that Captain Sensible or Nick Cave or some other member of whichever band I was currently admiring had very carefully and thoughtfully written out set lists for everyone. The reality being, of course, that it was actually some random roadie’s scribble but I didn’t know that and proudly displayed them on my bedroom wall. Even today, if no-one is looking, I’ll break my professional ethics and slip a discarded set list into a nearby flightcase drawer if its meaningful enough. I have a Metallica one from the ‘Master Of Puppets’ anniversary tour in 2006 that was left on the wall at a venue (see above) and I also have Joe Strummer’s handwritten lyrics for ‘Police On My Back’ (complete with stains and scuffs from the stage floor) that I rescued back in the late 1990s. Also, somewhere in my house- and to my great distress I can’t find it- is a set list from one of the first Stooges reunion shows.
So, as I say, I can identify with the desire to own what is, after all, a simple piece of paper and the reason for that is because I know that it represents more than just what it is printed on. It can be a direct personal connection to a once in a lifetime event. For some people these events can change their lives and they also often inspire and empower others. I appreciate and respect that. Which is why I have a considerable amount of disgust for the kind of crew types who will hand out ‘joke’ setlists that contain a list of insults or similar in an attempt to denigrate people. I may not be able to give away setlists with any regularity but at least I’m not genuinely abusive.
I must also add that some setlists may not be suitable to give out. They may special and personalised with lyrics, arrangements, chord sequences, FX cues or other prompts that have been added as reminders. Artists may not appreciate these clues to the fact that they are a bit forgetful getting out into the public domain. Similarly, they may be oversized for the shortsighted or they may have songs listed that were skipped. There is always a chorus of complaints online if a favourite song has been left out, in which case its best not to let anyone know that it was on the setlist to begin with.
Anyway, at the risk of making a rod for my own back, there are ways of maximising your chances of getting the setlist of your choice.
1- Ask the security persons. They will still be in the pit at the end of the gig so if you ask them to get it for you, sometimes they will ask the crew for permission. Those onstage will rarely ignore security and a quick nod is easy for them to do without jeopardising the safety of their gear. Your chosen security person can then do the tricky bit of trying to get the gaffa tape around the setlist up without tearing it.
2- Say something funny. I may be speaking personally here but if someone shouted out something amusing, I’d be a bit more inclined to try to find a spare few seconds to give them something if I could.
3- Bring a child. The sight of a saucer eyed youngster gazing up at the stage in wonderment is enough to move the heart of even the most seasoned road dogs and will increase the chances of one of them handing you something at the end of the gig. It is then down to your own morality whether you requisition it for your own uses afterwards.
4- At arena size gigs, if you have bought a programme then have a look to see if the names of all the roadcrew are printed somewhere inside. Then during the changeover (the bit between bands) try and work out who is doing what. Then, at the end, try shouting their name instead of just “Oi, give us a setlist…”. Most people will look up if they hear their name being called so if you manage to make eye contact with them, half of the job is done. Having said that, I’m going to ignore anyone who shouts my name out now.
5- This one could be a bit hit and miss and will definitely be the latter if you do it at the wrong time, but if you are at a smaller gig where you can get to speaking distance to any of the crew before the show- and that doesn’t mean during the changeover or when they are obviously working- then if you are friendly and polite and ask nicely then you may get your setlist at the end if security haven’t thrown you out. Sound crew seem to spend large chunks of the day sitting on their backsides staring at laptops, they will be your best bet.
6- Try at Front Of House. In theatre speak Front Of House means out in the foyer but in gig speak it generally means either at the back of the hall or sometimes on the balcony (in small to medium venues) or halfway down the arena (anywhere larger). Its where you’ll see the mixing and lighting desks. The operators of these items and their assistants are usually trapped in position at the end of the gig until enough of the audience have left to allow them the room to escape. They always have setlists and unlike the onstage ones, they are not secured down with excessive amounts of gaffa tape. Even with barriers in place, you can usually get within a few feet of these people, so they are easy to harass.
Good luck and be careful out there.