Aging rocker Mick Elliott says he loves playing small halls and theaters these days rather than large arenas and stadiums. It’s clearly a lie he tells himself because he could never fill up an arena if he paid people to attend.
“You couldn’t pay me enough money to play an arena or stadium again,” said the delusional Elliott, 68, who wrote the third best 1970s concept album about space robots, “Tin Can McGee and the Dirty Space Robot Cowboys.”
“These days I prefer small venues, I mean tiny. As minuscule as humanly possible,” said Elliott. “I’ll play at a theater or I’ll even play in the bathroom at The theater, if someone paid me. The acoustics in a bathroom are fantastic with all that porcelain and marble tile, it really makes the sound pop.”
Elliott wrote not one but two epic albums in the 70s. His follow up to Tin Can McGee was the soundtrack to the film “Miss Oxgny versus Dr. Acula: Love Bites.” It won the Oscar in 1979 in the category, Only Soundtrack Not By Randy Newman.
“Literally, at this point, I would play a hall, just a hall. I can come over your house and play a concert for you in your hall or your foyer, if you’ll pay me,” said Elliott.
But arenas and stadiums, forget it. “Been there, done that,” said the iconic rocker, who, in reality, would literally kill or prostitute himself in some disgusting way to have a chance to play arenas again.
“But seriously, if someone wanted to pay me, I would definitely play in the bathroom at the stadium. Those piss troughs really have great acoustics. I played the bathroom at Fenway Park last summer during the Jimmy Buffet concert and it was great,” said the rocker, whose last album, “Minimum Rage,” sold 3 copies worldwide.
“I’d literally go right in the stall with you and play a private concert for you while you poop,” said Elliott. “That’s how much I love playing bathrooms, if you pay me.”
Elliott said the sound in the bathroom stall was much better than it was on the Fenway stage.
“Buffet can have Fenway Park. I’d rather play in the bathroom or under the right field bleachers or really anywhere, if someone would pay me,” said Elliott, lying through his tobacco-stained teeth. “Just give me a hat to throw money in, and I’ll play on the street.”
But NOT stadiums! He said the only way he would play stadiums is if his agent really wanted him to. In reality, his agent fired him 10 years ago. Now he refers to his agent as the voice in his head when he drinks. The last time his “agent" had "booked" him a stadium he was escorted from the premises and arrested for trespassing.