The Replacements came to Buffalo on a cold night in 1984 during the tour for their album “Let It Be.” But the flyers played off their last album and said “It’s a Hootenanny with The Replacements.” The show was sponsored by the mighty record store Home of the Hits (RIP!). I knew the owner, and my roommate also worked there at the time. They asked me to handle two jobs that night – deliver food to the band and work the door. Not usual work for me but, sure, why not?
For the band dinner, subs and chicken wings were the fancy plan. The venue was in a club – not a huge place – and I found the band sitting at the bar (big surprise for everyone reading this, I’m sure). I delivered their meal and noticed the boys were all dragging and looked really worn down. I was not left with high hopes for much of a show.
A bit later I manned my place at the door. This was the first and only time I worked a door for a concert. I am proud to report I did not let this lofty position go to my head. Everyone was treated fairly and, more importantly, I didn’t need to rough anyone up! (Not that I could have manhandled people anyway, but still…) In addition, the room configuration was such that my view of the band from the door was really good.
When the ‘Mats took the stage, they had much more energy than I would have expected after seeing them a few hours earlier. This was one of those (good) legendary shows you hear about The Replacements. They were fun and raucous and sloppy and, aside from playing their own stuff, got into things like TV theme songs (Green Acres, for example) along with other silliness. All in all it was a great show.
But there was one incident that only I witnessed since I was still technically working. Once the show had started, traffic at the door had dwindled as you would expect; most everyone who wanted to see the show was already there. About half way through a single guy shows up with a banjo case. He stands in the door for a few minutes watching the band, looking perplexed. He finally comes up to me and says “I thought there was a hootenanny here tonight.” I explained that the band had an album called “Hootenanny” and his face just dropped. He walked off quietly into the crisp, dark night. In retrospect, had banjo man stuck around, I wouldn’t have been shocked to see The Replacements invite him up on stage at some point as the evening devolved.