The story of backstage passes and how they work

One of the most frequently asked questions I get is, “How can I get a backstage pass to [insert name of artist here]?”

My answer is always the same. “You can’t — and what did you think you’d find backstage, anyway? Wild parties? Naked groupies? Tables heaped with cocaine? Roman orgy levels of food and booze? Or were you thinking of hanging with the band in their dressing room before they go to work?”

Let me set you straight. Most of what you’ve ever heard or read about what goes on backstage is a complete lie. Yes, things used to be a little looser — or so I’ve heard — but in today’s concert business, there’s not a lot of time or patience for messing around with people who don’t belong backstage. Schedules are tight, security is strict, and privacy is more of an issue than ever before.

But since so many people want to know about backstage passes, here is a rough primer on how they work, and the hierarchies involved.

The modern backstage pass was invented by a Cincinnati man named Dave Otto. As rock became a bigger and bigger business, it became necessary to restrict backstage access to working people and special guests. Otto figured out a way to print graphics on a flexible rectangle of rayon with an adhesive backing.

These patches adhered very well to all sorts of clothing, and because they were flexible, they worked well with body contours and did not fall off. Plus, once applied, it wasn’t a good idea to peel it off because the glue didn’t work as well the second time around — if at all.




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These passes started appearing in 1973. From then on, backstage passes became a sort of currency, something more valuable than even a front-row ticket because it (theoretically) lets you go where no mere mortals can. The backstage pass became your invitation to untold glories and horrors behind the curtain.

And yes, things often got very weird, at least in the old days. Like I said, things are much different today. That’s not to say that there isn’t any misbehaviour or, er, activities of a questionable legal nature. But backstage is a serious workplace, and you can’t afford to mess around.

The bottom-of-the-barrel pass is the “after show” pass. This will get you into a designated area behind the stage only after the gig is over. Lucky fans are sometimes issued one of Otto’s stick-on sort of passes or a cheap paper facsimile. You and dozens of other people will be admitted to a cordoned-off cattle pen where you’ll mill around, wondering if the band will show up for a meet-and-greet. Sometimes they all appear. Sometimes it’s just one or two members. And sometimes no one shows up. It depends on their mood, energy level, and if the road manager needs to get them out of the building and on the way to the next gig.

Food and drink? Sometimes, but don’t count on it. Parties and groupies and drugs? Nope.




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After a polite while, everyone is kicked out, and your backstage experience is over. Still, you have a nice little souvenir in that thing you stuck on your jacket, which was ruined because of the glue.

The next level of backstage pass is the “pre-show” pass. Again, it’s usually a stick-on thing that allows you and a bunch of other people into a green room area where you (hopefully) get a quick meet-and-greet with the artist, and, if you’re lucky, a picture.

These pre-show events are usually reserved for contest winners, local record company people, local media (like radio folk), and maybe a couple of local acquaintances or friends of friends. Once you get your 15 seconds, you’re escorted into the crowd for the rest of the night. Thanks for coming.

Next in the food chain is the VIP pass. This is where backstage access starts to get interesting because you might have some meaningful face time with the performer. Or not. Backstage, there are no sure things.

A VIP pass is often laminated in plastic and comes with a lanyard to hang around your neck. They’re good for the green room beyond the green room — an inner sanctum room where the performers spend a little more time with the holders.

Here’s where you’ll find the higher-ranked record company people, local musicians held in high regard by the band, and non-music VIPs, like a big-wheel businessperson, politicians or some well-connected friends. If there’s food and drink to be had, it’ll be fresher and of higher quality than whatever might have been found in the outer green room. It’s a nice thing to have.

Before we go deeper into the nether regions of backstage, I should mention the photo pass. This doesn’t get you backstage. Instead, it allows accredited photographers access to the space at the foot of the stage. You know the show is set to begin when they release the photographers into that pit. The photo pass will get a photographer into that spot, usually for the first three songs. Once the third song is done, they’re hustled out. Again, thanks for coming.

Some passes allow you even more access. “Local crew” passes will get you beyond the VIP green room, but probably not into the dressing rooms. They are reserved for people working to make the gig happen: locally hired roadies, caterers, security, paramedics, medical staff, and so on.




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Above that is the “working crew” pass. These are laminates issued to the road crew and support staff travelling with the tour. They will get the bearer anywhere they need to do their jobs.

And we still have two more levels to go. There’s the laminate that gives you access to the dressing rooms, but only if you have an escort. And that escort must be in possession of the Holy Grail: the all-access pass.

An all-access pass will get you anywhere, any time you want. On-stage during the show. In the dressing room before or after the gig and beyond. They bestow the holder with immense backstage superpowers.

Only a very, very select few are issued passes with these kinds of magical powers. The band, of course. Their manager. The road manager. High-ranking roadies. Spouses, partners and families of the band. The gig’s promoter. And that’s about it.

At one time or another, I’ve had every one of these passes, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: If there’s a really good party to be had, it’s on the tour bus or back at the hotel. And there aren’t any passes that will get you there.

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