Inside Styx’s rider: 54 towels, eight first-class plane tickets and absolutely no mention of Dennis DeYoung | Music

You name it, they’ve played it.

Foellinger Auditorium — 48 years ago February, back when half of their gigs were in highschool gyms, Masonic Temples and small ballrooms.

State Farm Center — each before (2001, 2003, 2005, 2011) and after its name change (2019).

Grange Grove — as a part of a double feature with Low cost Trick in 2016, the concert christening of the tailgating turf.

The Virginia Theatre — there, too, in 2014.

We speak not of Champaign-born REO Speedwagon but of its frequent tourmate — STYX — which is approaching 3,000 profession concert events since its first iteration was spawned from a suburban Chicago basement greater than half a century ago.

In Part 20 of our ongoing series digging into the small print of entertainers’ tour riders, here’s Styx’s from a show earlier this yr on the UI-Springfield’s Sangamon Auditorium, obtained by The News-Gazette via open-records request.

— Simply to be clear, the guy who wrote and sang the lyrics to the group’s second-biggest hit of the ’80s — you realize it: “Domo arigato, Mister Roboto …” — split, for a 3rd time, 23 years ago, because the rider references in daring italics: “Dennis DeYoung and (fellow ex) Glen Burtnik are NOT members of Styx, and their names, voices, pictures or likeness must NOT, under any circumstances, be utilized in the promoting of the performance.”

— Other no-nos when hosting and promoting a Styx show: “violence by security personnel”; uniformed police in front of the stage; anything lower than a “first-class sound system and a first-class lighting system”; cameras of every kind, including “cameras mounted on drones”; opening doors to fans greater than 90 minutes before showtime; and, last but not least, this:

“IN AN EFFORT TO PROMOTE A HEALTHIER PLANET, PLEASE HONOR THE STYX REQUEST THAT NO STYROFOAM PRODUCTS NOR SINGLE CONDIMENT PACKAGES BE USED BACKSTAGE.”

— The performance will last at least 75 minutes and not more than two-and-a-half hours. (May’s show in Springfield was 23 songs long, with “Renegade” the second of two encores).

— The tour requires 48 large bath towels for the crew and band to dry off with after getting out of the shower, six lint-free hand towels for the stage (“dark coloured if possible but not mandatory”), six bars of Dove for Men bath soap, and all the things to be spic and span when the buses roll into the sector.

— For the cleansing crew: “On this time of change, we ask for ALL dressing rooms and production office to be clean and disinfected prior to arrival. We kindly ask for non-toxic cleansing products akin to Seventh Generation, (Mrs.) Meyer’s, J.R. Watkins for use. We also ask for cleansing wipes, hand sanitizer and disinfecting spray to be left available to be used throughout the show day.”

— For the PA announcer: “We are not looking for the band introduced, but announcer or DJ may say ‘Coming up soon: Styx.’”

— For those floor-seated fans hoping to snag certainly one of Tommy Shaw’s guitar picks: You’re out of luck. “Nothing shall be thrown into the audience. NO EXCEPTIONS,” tour management notes.

— If the host venue is covering air transportation, Styx will need eight first-class and 13 coach tickets. If hotels are included within the deal, the band will take two suites and 21 king rooms, all of them non-smoking.

— Smart fellas, Tommy Shaw, James Young, Lawrence Gowan, Todd Sucherman, Ricky Phillips, Will Evankovich and Charles Panozzo are, judging by three of their must-haves to begin the day: “Every day newspapers — 1 local, 1 USA Today, 1 Recent York Times.”

— Rock bands like their chicken-noodle soup, we’ve discovered in reporting this series. Styx requires a kettle or Crockpot filled with it — homemade, fresh and served in individual bowls, together with oyster crackers or saltines — within the band’s dressing room.

— Like REO, Styx’s rider notes: “We feature the coffee pot and don’t need yours.”

— Other dressing-room desires: one box of sourdough pretzels (“Uncle Jerry’s if possible”); 10 Kind bars (“five with no chocolate, five with dark chocolate, please”); a box of cereal (“Cascadian Farm Organic Raisin Bran or Gorilla Munch”); a loaf of Dave’s Killer Multigrain Bread; jars of Skippy and strawberry preserves; and an assortment of preferably organic fruit.

— The drink order has each non-alcoholic and adult beverages, with the latter including bottled six packs of Heineken and either Stella Artois or Blue Moon beer, two bottles of Recent Zealand Sauvignon Blanc Matua or Nobilo, a bottle of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio and, for a “$15 minimum please,” a bottle of California Cabernet or Merlot.

— Attention, chef: the feast of 25 includes two pescatarians, who “is not going to eat meat but will eat fish and dairy.” The band is open to local favorites or specialty dishes, the rider notes, as long as the menu includes two to a few major dishes, potatoes or rice, three fresh steamed vegetables, a garden salad with a minimum of 4 veggies and croutons and various breads, rolls and desserts — all served buffet style, “with tablecloths, real plates, glasses, all appropriate flatware and napkins.”

— “That is our last likelihood to loosen up,” management writes on the band’s behalf. “Thanks for making it nice!”