Baubles, Blaggers and the Buffet Offensive: A Field Guide to December Office-Party Gigs

December is the month when the Freddie & The Freeloaders diary stops looking like a pub crawl and starts looking like a logistics exercise. One night you are in a boozer with a sticky floor and a two-foot stage; the next you are in a function room with a glittery backdrop, a raffle and a bloke in a paper crown asking whether you know anything by Mariah Carey. Office-party gigs can keep a rowdy pub band in strings and diesel through the winter, but they are not simply pub gigs with tinsel. They are a different animal, and that animal has had three proseccos and wants to sing.

This Is Not a Pub Gig With Tinsel

A normal pub crowd is there for the band, or at least for the beer and whatever noise comes with it. An office party crowd is there because the company has paid for a room, a buffet and a DJ who might not turn up. Half of them have not spoken since last December; the other half are trying to impress the regional manager. Nobody knows where the stage is, the speeches are running late, and someone has already spilled Baileys near your extension lead.

The first rule is therefore boring but vital: treat it like a proper booking. Confirm the set times, the curfew, the load-in, the parking and whether there will be speeches. Ask where the buffet is going. Ask if there is a stage or just a carpet that smells faintly of lager and ambition. Get the deposit in writing. The festive season is lovely, but it is also when every venue suddenly remembers it needs the room cleared by midnight and every client suddenly remembers they wanted a band that plays 'all the hits'.

Learn Exactly Two Christmas Songs and Mean It

You do not need a full advent calendar of festive covers. You need two, learned properly, with endings that do not collapse into a pub argument. Choose one stomper and one singalong. 'Merry Xmas Everybody' is a reliable shout-along if your singer can handle the chorus without going full panto. 'I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday' is another safe bet if you have a keyboard player who enjoys being the centre of attention. If you have a decent duet pairing and a thick skin, 'Fairytale of New York' can work, but only if you have rehearsed the arrangement and are ready for the entire room to join in approximately half a beat behind you.

Rehearse both in November. Not on the night. Not in the van. Not while the landlord is tapping his watch. Learn the intro, the outro and one tidy way to cut the thing short if the buffet arrives. And do not add a third festive song just because one punter asks nicely. That is how a band ends up playing 'Last Christmas' at 11:40pm to a room of people looking for their coats.

The Request Triage System

Requests are not a threat; they are a sign that someone is engaged. They become a threat when the same engaged person asks for the same song eleven times. The best man with a 'Wonderwall' fixation is not an urban myth. He is real, he is holding a pint, and he is convinced the band simply has not heard his suggestion clearly enough.

Have a triage system. A festive request gets pointed towards your two festive songs. An indie banger gets a honest 'we will see how the set is running'. An impossible request gets a smile and a promise to 'dedicate the next one to you', which is technically true if the next one is 'Alright Now'. Do not say no aggressively; say no with a route back to the bar. Keep one wildcard song ready for the persistent punter, and make sure it is a song the band can play in its sleep. If someone asks for 'Wonderwall' repeatedly, you can either play it once and get it out of the way or offer to let them sing the chorus after the next number. What you must not do is let one request turn the set into a negotiation.

The Buffet Offensive

There is a moment at every office party when the buffet lands and the room forgets the band exists. It usually happens about four songs in, just as you are hitting your stride. This is not a personal insult; it is sausage roll physics. Do not fight it. Plan for it.

Ask the organiser when food is due and build your set around that information. If the buffet is coming at 9:15pm, do not start a heartfelt ballad at 9:10pm. Put a short, loud block either side of the food, or take a break while people queue for quiche. Do not eat on stage. Do not rest your pint on the bass amp. Do not let the drummer disappear into the queue and come back with a paper plate and a new outlook on life. The band that respects the buffet is the band that gets asked back next year.

The Drunk Best Man Protocol

At some point, a man in a slightly too-tight shirt will decide that the microphone is a communal object. This is the best man, or the office joker, or simply the person who has been waiting all year to be the centre of attention. Keep the mic stand away from the edge of the stage. Keep a band member designated as the diplomat. If he grabs the mic, steer him towards a chorus, thank him warmly, and take it back before he starts telling a story about the accounts department.

Do not get into a tug-of-war. Do not let him use your guitar. If he falls over, help him up and make a joke about the carpet. If he tries to sing 'Wonderwall' a cappella, let the room decide. The band's job is to keep the party moving, not to win an argument with a man who has had four pints and a shot of something blue.

Price the Party Without Becoming Santa's Unpaid Elf

Office parties have budgets, and they often have someone who thinks a band is a fun extra rather than a professional booking. This is why a party gig should carry a party premium. You are not just playing songs; you are providing a PA, lights, travel, setup time, a longer set and the emotional labour of pretending to enjoy 'Jingle Bell Rock' requests.

A standard pub gig might be £350. An office party should start higher, depending on the lineup and the distance. Quote a clear fee, take a deposit, and put overtime in writing. If the client wants you to play until 12:30am when the curfew is midnight, that is not a favour; that is an extra fee. Ask about food and soft drinks, parking and load-in access. The tip jar is a bonus, not a business plan. If the organiser says 'we will look after you', get them to look after you in an email.

The Midnight Curfew and the Landlord Stare

The venue wants you packed away before midnight. The client wants one more song. The drummer wants to know where the toilet is. This is the final test of the office-party gig. Finish on time, announce the last song clearly, and have a load-out plan before you play the first note. Do not do an encore because someone shouts for one; do it because the clock says you have ninety seconds and the landlord has already started stacking chairs.

The Pre-Christmas-Do Checklist

• Confirm set times, curfew, load-in and parking in writing.
• Ask about speeches, awards, raffle and buffet timing.
• Rehearse exactly two festive covers and one emergency wildcard.
• Agree who handles requests and who handles the drunk best man.
• Put deposit, overtime and cancellation terms in the contract.
• Bring spare strings, gaffer tape, extension leads and a sense of humour.
• Plan the set around the buffet, not against it.
• Pack up before the landlord starts making eye contact with the van.

Do all that and December can be a good earner rather than a panto you did not audition for. The tinsel will still get everywhere, the best man will still ask for 'Wonderwall', and someone will still request a song you have never heard. But you will get paid, you will get packed away, and you might even get a plate of chips before the buffet goes cold.