I’d finished writing The Dark Side of Disney, and my layout artist was just about done with the final proof when I found out that The British Invasion, the Beatles tribute band from the UK Pavilion, had ended their contract and would no longer be performing at Epcot. My first reaction was, “Fuck, now I have to revise the text and Index in the proof!” My second reaction was, “Dammit, I really liked those guys. This is more ‘declining by degrees‘ bullshit!” Of course, they were replaced promptly by The English Channel, who don’t dress up but play a wider variety of music, including Queen, Zep, The Who, etc, which is cool. Then The English Channel promptly changed their name to The British Revolution, resulting in yet another fucking revision of the book! Argh!
Anyway, I was curious about what had happened to The British Invasion. Why had they stopped playing at Epcot? Where were they playing now? After some Googling I found out the band had moved to Las Vegas and was
gigging there. It even mentions on their website that they just came from playing Epcot Center for 14 years. So, I did what any Disney Fan would do (or not) and hopped on a plane to Vegas with the intention of stalking tracking these guys down and finding out WTF happened!
I arrive in Vegas on Saturday, 8/27, and by Sunday I’ve scored an invitation to a private party at The House of Blues in Mandalay Bay on Tuesday. The entertainment: The British Invasion. Fuck yeah, I’m awesome!
A friend and I get there and start scarfing down the free food and drinks (I’m getting blasted on Gin and Tonics), literally not knowing a single person at this party. But everyone else is drunk, too, so it doesn’t matter.
Free Food at House of Blues!
So the band finally comes on, and they sound amazing, and I’m having a great time, and then I realize something: I’ve never seen these fuckers before in my life! These are not the guys in the pictures on the British Invasion website! This is NOT The British Invasion! WTF, I flew to Vegas and had amazing sex with a really hot chick for a party invite only to find out this isn’t really The British Invasion?! Grrrr, I was angry!
NOT The British Invasion! (yes, I am wearing an EPCOT shirt)
The band finishes their final set, and luckily instead of going backstage, they walk to the front of the venue for photo ops with us drunken party goers. I get in line, and when it’s my turn I walk up to them and instead of turning around for a photo, I yell, “You guys are not the fucking British Invasion from Epcot!”
People stop drinking and stare. There might be a fight. Photo-ops cease as faux-Ringo pulls me aside. I squint at him drunkenly and realize I hadn’t gotten a good look at him during the show because he was way in the back of the stage, under inadequate lighting. Plus, I was drunk. Anyway, I quickly realize that I do recognize him, and then it hits me: FAUX-RINGO IS THE ONLY ONE FROM EPCOT! Not only that, but this guy had only been with the band for their final year of Epcot performances.
So, instead of punching him I talk to him for a minute and confirm that yes, he’s the only one from the Epcot band, and then he proceeds to give me the scoop. Apparently the band cancelled their contract with Disney for a variety of reasons, one of which being that Disney refused to pay them more during contract renewal negotiations. So they decided not to renew the contract and concentrate on booking corporate events. Big mistake, because unfortunately, the market for those gigs in Orlando turned out not to be so great. Desperate, but not willing to relocate to a more profitable location, the “owner” of the band name and website sold it to the drummer, and the drummer took off for Vegas. He was the youngest of the band and had no family holding him down, as opposed to the other members who all had roots in Orlando. So faux-Ringo takes the name, the website, and the street cred, hires a whole new band in Vegas, and the rest is history!
After hearing all that I’m still a tad bit pissed off, but say “fuck it” and stand for a picture with them anyway. And then I get drunker and don’t really remember the rest of the evening, but it apparently involved a fight with a taxi driver, boobs, and puking. The End.
This is after I calmed down. I'm pointing to my Epcot shirt.
10 Responses to Stalking The British Invasion