April 28th 2020
We Are The Local Crew
For many, there’s no greater feeling than when the lights go down in an arena of screaming fans, and their favourite band take to the stage and spend ninety minutes bringing those beloved songs they sang in their bedroom, car or shower to life. To spend that time with an artist or band can, at times, be a life changing experience. The stage, the lights, the deafening sound of a song that touched you and so many others around you, it’s a beautiful thing. And as you sing along and try your hardest to make eye contact with your idol up there under the lights, somewhere in the darkness to the side of the stage, are people like me, the local crew. Tired and relieved that everything is going alright, proud and terrified of the magnitude of the day we are experiencing.
I’ve been lucky enough to see some pretty great things in my six years working in an events crew, from having dinner in the presence of rock royalty to setting up equipment for bands and artists that I myself spent many a teenage night damaging my ears to. Working as local crew, I’ve essentially been allowed to peak behind the curtain of so many gigs, shows and events that I would never have imagined I’d get to be a part of. And whist there is a lot of fun and great times to be had, there is also a lot of hard work to be done. On a typical show day, local crews are some of the first to arrive and among the last to leave. It is by no means easy but, at least in my mind, it is absolutely worth it.
Working an arena show, the day usually begins in the small hours of the morning. Tired and bleary eyed, I’d get in the crew van and head to the show in time for the first truck tip of many that day. Depending on the scale of the show, there could be anything up to forty local crew working on a show rig. It’s a fast paced affair, as what feels like countless trucks come and go, full of everything from staging to lighting to guitars to washing machines. Under the watchful eye of the road crew and techs, the locals are split into teams and off we go, working to get everything up and running whilst the rest of the world slowly begin to wake up.
What is initially surprising about these giant shows is how quickly they can come together. With so much going on, myself and the team are usually so focused on our task at hand that when you take a breath and look around, the show is almost up and running. I’ve done a lot over the years when working on arena and stadium rigs, from setting up Elton Johns wardrobe to placing little plastic dinosaurs on top of Slash’s amps.
When everything is up, the lights are flashed and the PA is running, the majority of the crew are thanked and sent on their way, resting up before returning later in the evening to do it all again, but in reverse. A small core team of us stay for the show call, usually spending our day helping out with odd jobs here and there, whether that be helping to prep stage sets or assisting support bands with places to set up, more often than not standing by, drinking coffee and waiting for a call on the radio for the next task, ensuring that everyone is happy. Some of my most memorable times working this job have been these afternoons, being lucky enough to watch some incredible artists soundcheck in an empty arena. I don't think I’ll ever forget watching Arcade Fire practising “Don’t You Forget About Me” with Simple Minds singer Jim Kerr on a quiet afternoon in an empty Glasgow Hydro, a memory that still feels a quite surreal to me now.
Each show is unique, and so each show call is a little bit different. As local crew, our main role is to assist with changeovers, to ensure the support acts and their crew have all the assistance they need. If you ever see a person dressed in black scuttling about the stage, trying to be as helpful but anonymous at the same time at a show, you can probably bet that’s the local crew. My most terrifying changeover moment came when carrying an open flight case full of ex Motorhead guitarist Phil Campbell's guitars down the stage ramp backwards, just trying not to think of the money and history that was in my arms.
When it comes time for the main act, the locals are in contact with the stage manager, ensuring all that needs to be carried out is done so in the quickest and most subtle and professional manner. This could be collecting stage props, handling spot lights, changing set pieces, it all depends on the show itself. After a long day, it’s a great feeling to stand by the side of the stage in the shadows, and watch from one of the best spots in the house.
When the final curtain falls and the house lights raise, a team of local crew once again emerge to get the show on the road and onto the next town. Similar to a show rig, it never fails to surprise me how fast giant shows come down into trucks and onto the road. By the wee hours of the morning, it’s time to go home.
An almost incomprehensible amount of preparation and work go into stadium and arena shows. Tour managers, technicians and road crews spend countless hours, weeks and months ensuring that everything runs smoothly when the tour finally sets off, and it’s the local crews job to make sure everything goes as smoothly as it can do during these builds, show calls and take downs.
As I mentioned, this job can be challenging at points. There are long days and new challenges to be met with every job but, for me at least, it’s an extremely rewarding and fun environment to be in. No two days are the same in the life of local crew, and I am extremely proud and grateful of all that I’ve been lucky enough to be a part of.
This article was kindly provided by musician and crew chief Paul Sinclair. https://www.instagram.com/saulpinclair/