Max Frost – CRAZY TOUR STORIES

In this Crazy Tour Stories segment, the alternative artist, Max Frost, talks about some of his crazy moments from touring. You can check out the feature, after the break.

Max Frost – CRAZY TOUR STORIES

In this Crazy Tour Stories segment, the alternative artist, Max Frost, talks about some of his crazy moments from touring. You can check out the feature, after the break.

In late November of 2013, I was on my first national tour opening for Gary Clark Jr. We landed in Boston and picked up a sprinter van we had rented for the rest of the run. It was cold as hell, especially for a bunch of guys from Texans.
We got to the venue early, where Gary’s bus and crew were loading in the back. With how many people were running around, this large man in a full suit, jacket, sunglasses, top hat, and holding a cane almost seemed to fit in despite his cartoon-character outfit. Few people took notice of him, but when he approached us and started talking, it was clear he was not mentally well. Despite this, we all assumed he must have known somebody there. We were too busy to care.
Fifteen minutes later the man began shouting at the group of busily working roadies; “Somebody owes me some money in this motherfucker!” Everyone heard him but nobody reacted, hoping he would just go away. “Bumpy Johnson is my mother fuckin’ cousin! I’ll have this whole show shut down!” he said, swinging his cane like a conductor. His historically epic claims combined with his pimp suit made it impossible to take him seriously. We soon realized this was a mistake.
First a hard sound, like a baseball bat hitting a tin can. Then the sound of glass shattering on the cold concrete into a million pieces. The crew turning their heads like wasps on a nest. The rental van had been in our possession less than a few hours. Now it’s beautiful, broad, tinted window had been bashed out by the cane of this mad-hatter pimp.
The crew surrounded the pimp as he continued to wave his cane about and blather on about how someone owed him money. As if snapping out of a trance, he realized how outnumbered he was, and dashed down the street. By the time the police arrived, the pimp had vanished. We rode out the rest of that winter tour with a few pizza boxes taped over the window.
The van smelled cheesy, and pimpin’ ain’t easy.

Keep up with the artist on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram!