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1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia

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Post by Soulmonster on Mon Oct 01, 2012 11:28 pm

Date:
November 29, 1992.

Venue:
Estadio El Campín.

Location:
Bogota, Colombia.

Setlist:
01. Welcome to the Jungle
02. Mr. Brownstone
03. It's So Easy
04. Live and Let Die
05. Attitude
06. Double Talkin' Jive
07. Civil War
08. Bad Obsession
09. So Fine
10. Patience
11. November Rain
12. Don't Cry
13. Paradise City

Line-up:
Axl Rose (vocals), Gilby Clarke (rhythm guitarist), Slash (lead guitarist), Duff McKagan (bass), Dizzy Reed (keyboards) and Matt Sorum (drums).

Quotes:
When we were in Bogota, Columbia, it started raining during 'November Rain', and the crowd lost their minds. That city deserved to have that happen more than any place else in the world, because 'November Rain' was Number One for 60 weeks. Singing in the rain. It was a very special moment. We all got very happy about it, because we were having a miserable time in Bogota. There's big hotels and armed security everywhere.[Raw Magazine, 1993]
Sometimes I can go out with two security people and have a normal day, just go shopping or look around. In Bogota it was hectic. You needed two vans of security. It was a nightmare. But I went to antique shops because I'm into collecting crucifixes. It was fun because the fans were mostly schoolgirls in their little outfits. We had plenty of security keeping everybody back, so it was really cute.[Raw Magazine, 1993]
1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia Rightarrow Next concert: 1992.12.02.
1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia Leftarrow Previous concert: 1992.11.25.
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1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia Empty Re: 1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia

Post by Blackstar on Wed Dec 19, 2018 12:03 am

Doug Goldstein: Guns N’ Roses Manager For 17 Years! Recalls Harrowing Escape!

Rock legends Guns N’ Roses have been in the news these past few weeks. With their show – stealing set at Coachella, and their recent pop up performance at The Troubadour, Guns N’ Roses prove they are as popular as ever before. Former manager of the band, Doug Goldstein, recounts a hair-raising experience south of the border. while on tour with G N’ R.

So the three of us (Axl, Slash and I) used to have numerous meetings on the plane. I managed Guns N’ Roses for 17 years. One of the classic stories I’d like to share is our trip to Bogota, Colombia back in 1991.

We were to play two nights (Friday and Saturday) in Bogota. After playing a Thursday show in Caracas Venezuela, we flew into Bogota only to find out there had been a coupe attempt in Caracas, which closed the airport, meaning our gear was being held back.

The promoters tried to talk me into giving back half the money and just playing the Saturday show. I blatantly told them “No way”, that we would play on the Saturday and Sunday!! The promoters opted for one show on Saturday. We played the show and there were at least 30,000 fans trying to gain access into the building. Cops on horseback were deployed and they were hitting fans over the head!

The band started playing “November Rain”, and the rain started pouring down in the roofless stadium. The fans who couldn’t get in ravaged the streets looting the shops in town!

At about 7am, I heard a knock on my door. I got up and there was a soldier who stuck a machine gun in my chest. I read the note (which was written in Spanish), and it said I have a mandatory meeting with the mayor at 3pm. I told him I would let Mr. Goldstein know as soon as he got back!

I called my U.S. Embassy security guy and asked him to come to my room. I asked him what the letter meant, and he told me what I had assumed. There was no meeting — they were going to kidnap me and hold me until we returned half the money. We woke up the security guys and had them get the entourage together and hauled ass to the airport!

Whew!!! Escaped just in time! One of thousands of stories that come from managing “The Most Dangerous Band in Music History”!!!!

https://wheremusicmeetsthesoul.com/doug-goldstein-guns-n-roses-manager-for-17-years-recalls-harrowing-escape/
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1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia Empty Re: 1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia

Post by Blackstar on Tue Mar 19, 2019 4:42 am

From The Age, December 4, 1992:

1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia 1uYdd3qn_o
Concerts banned after Gunners riot

Bogota

Authorities here have banned huge rock concerts after at least 20 people were injured in a riot following a concert by the US group Guns N’ Roses, the Bogota daily 'EΙ Tiempo’ reported earlier this week.

Officials said the ban is indefinite. The move comes after about 1500 people, most of whom could not get tickets for the show, fought police, smashed parked cars and looted stores after the concert on Sunday.

Police estimated the riot caused more than $165,000 in damage.

The concert, attended by more than 45,000 people at a stadium in northeast Bogota, was billed by promoters as the greatest show ever held in Colombia.

The band’s singer Axl Rose was recently fined and ordered to perform community work after being convicted by a US court of inciting a riot during a Guns N’ Roses concert last year in St. Louis.

► Guns N’ Roses play the Calder Park raceway on 1 February.
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1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia Empty Re: 1992.11.29 - Estadio El Campín, Bogota, Colombia

Post by Blackstar on Thu Mar 21, 2019 12:32 pm

Craig Duswalt wrote:
Two days after the Caracas show we were scheduled to leave for Bogotá. We made it, but because of a failed military coup by the Venezuela Air Force, half of the band’s equipment didn’t make the trip.

Glad we missed that event.

We were supposed to do two shows in Bogotá, but because the equipment didn’t arrive in time for the first show, they decided to let two sold-out audiences into the second show. In hindsight, not a good idea.

Although it ended up being a very special show, it almost didn’t happen. Doug, the entourage, and the band were already at the venue in Bogotá, and reports came back that the stadium was packed beyond belief.

Earl, Robert, and I were waiting in my room for Axl to get ready. We were already about an hour late, but that was kind of normal.

Axl came into my room, still dressed in his shorts, and told me that he’s not doing the show tonight. And after dropping that bombshell, he headed back to his room.

The three of us look at one another.

“Anyone want to tell Doug?” I pleaded.

No takers. Apparently, this was my job so I had to handle it. I got on my walkie-talkie, dreading what I was about to say.

“Doug.”

“Go, Craig,” Doug responded on his walkie-talkie from the venue about five miles away.

“Axl doesn’t want to do the show.”

Silence.

“Again?” Doug said.

I repeated, “Axl doesn’t want to do the show.”

Longer silence. I turned to Earl. “I think he just had a heart attack.”

Doug finally got back on the walkie-talkie. “Craig, call me from a landline.”

I did.

On the hotel phone, “Hey, Doug.”

Doug proceeded to tell me that there were about 80,000 people squeezed into a stadium that might fit 50,000. I might be exaggerating these numbers, and maybe Doug might have been as well, but you get the idea. If we cancelled at this last minute there would be a lot of pissed-off people.

Doug also reminded me that he’d just spoken with the police, and if Axl didn’t arrive in the next fifteen minutes, they would make an announcement to the audience that the show was cancelled, and that they would not restrain the fans from destroying the stage.

My stress level reached new heights.

I’m a regular guy from a small town in Long Island and suddenly I was responsible for getting Axl Rose to a concert, otherwise equipment would be destroyed, and there was a good chance that people would die.

I had never told Axl that he had to do a show. But I knew I had to do it that night. It was not going to be a great conversation. I could tell when Axl walked into my room that he was not in a good mood. Something must have happened.

Doug then added a little detail that changed everything. “Oh, and let me remind you, Natasha [Duswalt's wife] is here backstage as well. And we’re all not safe.”

Well, that’s all I needed to hear.

I grabbed the key to Axl’s room, knocked on his door, and without waiting for an answer, opened his door with the key.

Axl was sitting on his couch in his dimly lit room.

“Axl, you have to do the show. If we’re not there in fifteen minutes, they’re going to release the audience, and Natasha is backstage, and so is your sister, Amy. Let’s go.” And much to my surprise, he only said, “Fine.” He headed to his bedroom to get dressed.

[...]

And with that Axl came into my room, and we left for the concert. Not a word was spoken in the car, and that was totally okay. I had one goal—get Axl to the show, and we were on our way.

The show was great. And something really cool happened this night.

“November Rain” had been the number-one song in Colombia for sixty straight weeks. That is almost unheard of in any market.

So, during the concert the band begins playing “November Rain,” and it begins to rain.

The crowd went nuts. And although it’s not really that safe to play electrical instruments in the rain with no cover, the band played on. I had chills. It was a very special moment, and knowing that Doug and I and maybe three others knew that this night almost didn’t happen made it all the more special.

To top that? When the band finished playing “November Rain” it stopped raining.

Although the show was amazing, unfortunately a few injuries occurred. I don’t know how they happened, all I know is that Steve, our traveling chiropractor, was called on to stitch up a Colombian Army guy’s head, and also called on to stitch up Duff, who had apparently been hit by a bottle.

This is the ironic part. Steve couldn’t find anything to use as an anesthetic to numb the injuries he had to stitch. But because he’s on tour with Guns N’ Roses, and even better, was in Colombia, he asked around if anyone had any cocaine so he could numb his patients.

He couldn’t find any. Backstage at a Guns N’ Roses concert, in Bogotá, Colombia, and there was no cocaine? Steve was in shock. How could this be?

But there was none to be found. So, he stitched them up without numbing. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Duff never felt a thing. I’m pretty sure he was liquored up pretty good. But the poor Colombian Army guy …

Ouch.

As if all of this weren’t enough, as we’re leaving Bogotá, we encountered one more life-threatening problem. A problem a million times worse than any of the other life-threatening problems we had experienced the past five days. As the plane approached the end of the runway, we looked out our windows and saw that we were still on the ground. Panic set in. I already hated flying, and I did not need this.

Obviously the pilot decided that we weren’t going to get airborne anytime soon, so he hit the brakes.
Crap flew around everywhere, but we stopped. Right at the edge of the runway.

The pilot turned the plane around, made what I guess were some adjustments, and tried again. This time we got up in the air.

I think I lost three years of my life during those three days in Bogotá. Hopefully, since I don’t smoke or drink anymore, I can get them back.
Source: Craig Duswalt, Welcome To My Jungle, BenBella Books, May 2014.

Craig Duswalt was Axl's personal assistant at the time.
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Post by Blackstar on Sun Mar 24, 2019 2:02 am

A video from the concert in Bogota (contains a bit of November Rain):

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Post by Blackstar on Tue May 14, 2019 4:41 pm

We were supposed to play two nights in Bogotá, Colombia, after [Caracas], but without that huge cargo crate of equipment, it wasn’t really an option. The promoter decided to roll both nights into one show, to take place the next night, so we had a day off to relax in our hotel. [...] During our stay, word got out to the authorities that we had drugs, so, in another move typical of South America, the authorities got “warrants” to search our rooms, in hopes of finding something that might require us to buy them off, I imagine. The day of the show, the cops barged in on all of us. I had nothing; they came in, guns drawn, and found me, freshly showered, in a towel playing pinball. “Oh, hey,” I said. “Hi!” They showed me the warrant and started searching my room. I was pretty jovial as they tore through my stuff. “Señor, is it okay if I keep playing?” I asked.
The show that night—November 29, 1992—was pretty magical; it was one of those moments that you can’t believe is happening even as you watch it all unfold, even as you’re a part of it. There was a torrential rainstorm the entire day before as our crew set up; the weight of the water buckled the stage roof (which wasn’t ours), sending a lighting rig crashing to the ground. Luckily, no one was hurt. The whole stage had to be redesigned. Then the day of the show, a sudden storm damaged some of our equipment. Despite more rain, people filled the arena and were lined up outside, where fights broke out, a few cars were burned, and the police had to use tear gas to calm everyone down.
When we took the stage sometime around eleven p.m., the place went crazy. We were playing really well, and the rain had held off throughout the first hour of our set until we played “November Rain.” As we started that song, literally on cue, the sky opened and it poured once again. It was one of those massive tropical downpours where one drop can fill a coffee cup. It was coming down in a black mist that mixed with the steam rising off of the audience. I could barely see through the clouds that formed in the arena; the people were a sea of silhouettes. It was very dramatic and very beautiful; it felt as if they and the band were one. The audience was as moved as we were—they were into it, truly passionate. It rained so hard that we finished the song then we had to break until the storm passed, and once it did, we came back on and gave it everything we had.
[Slash: The Autobiography, Harper Collins, 2007]
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Post by Blackstar on Tue May 14, 2019 4:53 pm

That night, more news: a coup had been launched in Venezuela. An air-force pilot named Luis Reyes Reyes and his co-conspirators were able to wrest control of most of the country’s air bases by the morning of November 27. Our cargo planes were grounded. McBob and the rest of the crew were stuck.
The next morning a bomb went off near our Bogotá hotel. Then Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar told the press that we were his friends and that he was supplying us with a bunch of cocaine. He was already in hiding then as a result of American pressure (we never met him), and I guess he was just sticking it to the U.S. government, using us to have some fun. [...] At some point that next day, I went to leave my hotel room. Outside my room stood a machine-gun-toting soldier. He motioned me back inside. I was—we were—under house arrest. Oh, shit. I didn’t know what to do. I spent the day stewing. What are we going to do now? At least there was booze. That evening there was a knock at my door. I opened it. The hallway was dark. The soldier was gone. Instead there was a guy in a suit—also carrying a machine gun. “Yayo?” he said. I had learned this was slang for coke in South America. “Yayo?” I slammed the door and locked it. Shit. I’m being set up. I just know it. I picked up the hotel phone. Who did I know who could help? Who could call somebody? I didn’t want to scare my mom. Then it hit me: my dad. He’d been a fireman. He must know people at city hall in Seattle. I dialed my dad. It went through. “Dad, I don’t know who else to call,” I said. “It’s all gone terribly wrong. I’m in a hotel room in Bogotá with an armed guard out front. I don’t know if they’re going to let us out. I don’t know if they’re going to let us play the show—if our planes even get here. And I don’t know what will happen if we don’t play the show. I’m really worried. Is there anyone you can call?” I have no idea what my dad did, but the U.S. consul soon showed up on the scene. The atmosphere lightened. The armed guards disappeared.
[It's So Easy (and other lies): The Autobiography, Orion, 2011]

Duff's memory about the show is hazy in his autobiography, as he remembers that the rain stopped during November Rain and then it started again:

The crew arrived and began to feverishly set up for a delayed Bogotá show. Then, after a huge rainfall, pooled water on the roof collapsed the stage. The crew started over with what was left. The day of the rescheduled show arrived. It rained and rained. It continued to rain during the show. Then, as Axl played the opening chords of “November Rain,” the sun broke through the clouds. Everyone in the audience crossed themselves. After the song, the rain began again. [It's So Easy (and other lies): The Autobiography, Orion, 2011]
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Post by Blackstar on Tue May 14, 2019 5:05 pm

Video by Vice Espagnol (published on March 19, 2019). The story of the show in Bogota, animated, as recited by Julio Correal, who was the local promoter. Really funny.



Extract of the English subtitles (with minor corrections):
Julio Correal wrote:
So I was the manager of this Guns N’ Roses show Back in '92, in Bogotá. The whole country, actually, was very violent, a real mess, it was - you know? It was Colombia. It was an adventure. Pablo Escobar was around, marihuana and cocaine, you know... But "El Meneíto" ["Meneaíto" - dancehall song] was being played everywhere in Bogotá. "El Meneíto, el Meneíto". That was very hot in Bogotá back then. And with that in mind, I was persuading El General, who was the best performer of ""El Meneíto". 88.9 radio station manager, Fernando Pava [and me], we both knew a businessman who, back in the day, was the most famous show planner of Colombia: Armín Torres. And also another businessman called Felipe Santos, brother of Juan Manuel Santos [former president of Colombia]. I vividly remember that I went to Armín Torres' place. He was staying in Torre Bavaria. “Hey! My big guy! I managed to get El General, dude! We're gonna make it big!” Then he confidently looks at me and says, "Really, huh?" He was trying to bring something up, you know. So I thought, "He's up for something." "Just look at this, man. Guns N' Roses!" And I'm like, "What! No freaking way, dude! Oh god! Show me the fax messages, please!" And effectively, the fax message included "Bogotá, Colombia", the date, everything! And I'm like, "Oh Lord!" Then I remember that I told him, "Dude, schedule two shows."

We signed the contract and started to sell the tickets. Everything was awesome. I already spotted a couple of Ferraris for me, some stage kits and other things. The second payment was due and we needed to pay the money. And one of the Armin Torres' businessmen said, "I don't have that money! You’re on your own, guys." The other guys got mad: "What! You bastard!" and they were trying to beat him up. Everyone else was like, "Hey! Calm down!" Anyway, we did the payment on time. We kept on pushing, but now it was like – let’s say that we weren’t really cool after that.

One day, a friend of mine called me at 6 a.m. and he says, "Dude, you really are in a bad streak." He says, "There is a coup (d' etat) going on in Venezuela right now." Guns N' Roses, their plane and all their show equipment were stuck there. And I'm like, "No way." They got a show in Caracas and Hugo Chávez orchestrated a coup around the same date. The airports were closed. After we were told about it, the most important thing that we needed and didn't have in Colombia was the stage roof. We sent a person to Miami to rent a stage roof. He brought it, and we started to set it up on Wednesday. The things around Venezuela got calm and the plane could now take off to Colombia. And so the Gunners arrived in their private jet.

When the band arrived, I went to the airport and witnessed an incredible mess. There were around 5,000 fans waiting for Guns N' Roses. We saw the vans cut through to get to the band. Then, when they tried to leave, the people around were jumping over them. They didn't plan this out. People were actually jumping over the Guns N' Roses vans. The security guard took action by taking out his revolver, rolled down a window and shot his gun twice in the air, bam-bam. And I was like, "Oh my God. What the fuck is happening right now!" So I thought, "Shit, if this is happening at the airport, I can’t imagine what the hell is happening at their hotel." So we went there and we found almost 500 fans out there by the hotel's entrance. The band arrived and Axl Rose got out with his girlfriend; and the poor girl was pulled from her hair, Axl as well, and they grabbed her ass. Plus, the band was already drunk, so they decided to go into the bar Chispas.

When they arrived that night, the same day at around 12:00 the roof of the concert had fallen down. I remember very well arriving with Felipe Santos, and entering the stadium through the back, and seeing the whole roof sitting on top of the stage, and I just said, "Dude..." and we started crying. Then the stage falls over the roof, so now, not only did we lose the roof, the lights also went to shit. So we were there having an open concert without any roof. Without a roof over the stage, the second day of the concert had to be canceled. And I remember very well coming into the bar Chispas, and fetching the manager to sit down with him, and we said: "Hey dude, it appears we will only do only one of the two dates. We paid 1 million dollars, how are we going to solve this?” So the guy said, "I’ll give you back $45,000 for the second day". We lost $500,000, and those $350,000 from our associate weren’t coming back. We were in a huge hole, dude. A big fucking hole. We were screwed, dude. So the only thing left to do was to rock ‘n’ roll, because we were only moments away from the show.

So we were in a meeting with the American Embassy, their lawyers, our lawyers, the agent... And out at the concert, they were about to start. Hordes of people were screaming and throwing rocks so that we opened the doors and let everybody in for free. What's their deal? So, at one point, I heard the show had started and I said, “You know what? I don't give two shits about whatever we are doing here. We brought Guns N' Roses. They are playing on that fucking stage, and I'm going to go see the show and have a great time, motherfuckers. You can all stay here, if you want.” So, the show started all great, until mayhem burst out in the streets. There was huge lack of control and little help from the police or anybody. After a while, they called me on the radio: "Hey, the colonel had to be taken to hospital". "What happened!?" So he tells me, "The colonel got into the armored truck, and decided to go take a look around the stadium to see what was going on. The level of craziness and mayhem around was such, that the guy had a heart attack right there and then. Inside an armored truck, the chief commander of security had a heart attack.

Anyway, the show was going well and "November Rain" started playing, and things started to get hectic. Those were no special effects. They were no - I mean, dude, it started pouring rain. "November Rain," Axl Rose's piano, the music video where it's raining playing behind them. And then it really starts raining. The maximum climax you can imagine in terms of special effects. I was next to another colonel, rolling myself a joint, and Camilo drinking some Jägermeister. It was already a mess, already a fucking mess, man. So then Axl tells something to Slash and then uses the microphone. He says: "Hey, Opie, [stage manager], we’re about to be electrocuted." Because, you have to understand, the stage was a damn pool, wires floating everywhere and such. And Axl went on to say: “Guys, stay calm. We are not leaving; we'll come back."

So I started running, man, all the way backstage, and I saw they already had their vans parked outside with the doors opened. And I was like, "These sons of bitches are leaving, dude. Oh God, these sons of bitches are definitively leaving, dude. No fucking way." And I saw Opie walking and I confronted him. I told him, "Hey, Opie, motherfucker, where are you going?", I told the guy, «Where do you think you’re going motherfucker?" He said, "We are leaving." And behind me me I had a bunch of my workers that had helped with the lights and that stuff - Colombian workers. And, of course, they saw I was mad, because I was really mad. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” So the guy says: "We are leaving!" "Yes? You’re not going anywhere, you piece of shit!" There are people who have been waiting, I don't know how long. So the workers started saying: "Go and get him Don Julio, go and get him Don Julio, go for him Don Julio!" And the guy says I don't know what, and then another thing and I just, bam, I headbutted this guy. Come on. It had already stopped raining. And they hadn't even played Sweet Child O' Mine or "Knockin On Heaven's Door, the motherfuckers. So, at that point, the guy screamed, "Security!" or something like that. Security comes in, and my guys got my back: "Whaddup bitches, what are you going to do, huh?” Finally these guys got in their vans and decided to leave, and all our associates left for the hotel. But one of the associates was an airplane pilot at the time. So he calls the Control Tower at the airport and tells them: “Those motherfuckers, Guns N' Roses - they are buttloaded with a bunch of drugs. Let them board on the plane, get all their stuff inside, and then when they are done, make them get off the plane with everything they have and search these assholes for any drugs.” Dude, it was 3 in the morning, they were about to take off. And they were absolutely pissed off. Fingers up their asses. I mean, I can only imagine five officers arriving to search them with their rubber gloves on. Yeah, man, “It's an anti-narcotic check, would you please form a line please, one by one."
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