The Smoking Gun for years has tracked down and published on its Web site various tour riders, band contracts specifying everything from stage design to the band’s wish list.

The backstage wants and desires of everyone from Frank Sinatra to Bruce Springsteen have been published for the Web-surfing world to peruse and enjoy.

But it wasn’t until recently that the Web site finally acquired the contract rider for Van Halen from its 1982 world tour, made famous because of one caveat: M&M’s (Warning: Absolutely No Brown Ones). The site calls it the Holy Grail of riders — 53 pages including demands such as herring in sour cream, four cases of Schlitz Malt Liquor and one large tube of KY Jelly.

The rider was so amusing, it got us thinking about what our Mankato promoters may have endured over the years as big-name bands came through the area. Joe Tougas had stories to share from his experience as the co-founder of National Brew Fest, which was held at the end of June on Hickory Street in Mankato, ending its local run last summer.

But he remembers one rider that accidentally ended up on his desk while he worked as the entertainment writer at The Free Press. And it just happened to be from the most famous rock band to ever breeze through town.

“I remember when Aerosmith played,” Tougas said. “Steven Tyler wanted his room all decorated in Indian garb. ... He had to have incense going and (Indian) drapes and rugs. And he could not be addressed as anything but Steven. You could not call him Steve, or Mr. Tyler.”

According to the full rider published on The Smoking Gun, the style was “East Indian” to be exact. And if that isn’t weird enough, the band also requested no “pressed meats” be served. Among Aerosmith’s other requests were ashtrays, absolutely no alcoholic beverages backstage (for obvious reasons), fresh ears of corn on the cob (cooked three minutes only), chicken tikka pieces with yogurt and mint dip, Sundance cherry soda, and a list of a local throat specialist, chiropractor and osteo-podiatrist, among other specialists.

In Tougas’ experience, it’s the bands’ staff that asks for the nitpicky stuff and are the hardest to deal with.

The Guess Who performed at Brew Fest in 2007 and didn’t ask for anything outrageous. But for playing just one show, there sure was a lot to buy and prepare.

“You’re thinking, ‘Come on, you’re showing up for an hour-and-a-half gig, do you really need two cases of one kind of soda and two cases of another kind of soda?’” he said.

As the festival was going on that year, Tougas and Jim Gehrke were running around putting out all the fires that emerge during such a large event, and he was notified that the band was tired of sitting in its bus. They needed Tougas to find somewhere for them to go and hang out until they went on, and it had to be on site.

Thank God for McGoff’s, Tougas said. The owner offered up the loft and covered the pool tables with plywood so volunteers could haul over all their food and drinks and other items from the bus.

The Little River Band tripped Tougas up in 2006. Among their various requests — such as soda and coffee and tea and peanuts, which Tougas went out to buy and get ready — he couldn’t find Cajun-smoked barbecue chips (or something like that) and had to settle for just regular barbecue flavored. And between 12 and 24 clean, white towels were on the list, but he wasn’t sure what size, so he phoned Little River’s people.

They wanted the smaller towels to wipe the sweat from their faces, but they couldn’t just be brand new. Tougas’ wife, Shelley, had to launder them and to use fabric softener so they didn’t chafe the band members’ faces.

“They come across as so precious,” Tougas said. “And, again, it’s not the bands, it’s the middle guys in between who freak out about this stuff.”