As I stand here on the precipice of yet another weekend, I’m still shaking off the effects of the last one. I have to admit, it was a rather eventful one filled with friends I hadn’t seen in a while, new faces, lots of water, great music and a send-off for a friend moving on in life. Let’s jump things back to this past Friday and get this flashback under way, shall we?

Good friend Dennis was up from North Carolina for a visit, so plans were made to go see some bands down at the Surf Club earlier in the week. When he showed up at my door he had good friend Eileen with him, which was a very pleasant surprise. I hadn’t seen her in nearly a month, which considering we live in the same town and I see her fiance on a weekly basis kind of saddens me, but that’s more due to active schedules and my lack of a valid driver’s license at the moment — but I digress. This night was about the music.

The night’s headliners were the world famous Wailers and as an added bonus we were being treated to a performance by Topaz as the opening act. I got to see this same double billing out at Bonnaroo and was drooling at the chance to see both of them again.

We arrived in time to sample discounted beers and run into more good friends in the form of Sue and Patrick. We killed time out on the deck overlooking the darkened Atlantic before Topaz took the stage. Eileen and Sue talked tattoos while my mind wandered back and forth between noodles and the federal budget deficit…or something. I can’t remember exactly due to the beer. Either that or I’m just making things up to fill space.

We got a premium spot on the floor in front of the stage as Topaz took the stage with a percussionist in tow. This was a new addition from the last (and only) time I saw them perform, and he helped greatly as they put more of a reggae slant on things than usual. I reveled in the chance to strut my stuff on the floor, and was heartened to see that the rest of the crowd was sharing my enthusiasm.

One face in particular did catch my eye somewhere between “The Shrine” and “Fat City Strut”, or should I say body. Regardless, the young lady they both belonged to was certainly enjoying herself on the floor and I managed to catch her attention and was granted a few minutes between sets to swap e-mail addresses with her. Of course, it would figure that she was a student from North Carolina and was there because she was staying with the Wailers in some kind of music business management internship or what not.

I mean seriously, why can’t I find any local girls? Oh well, I guess getting another pen pal isn’t too bad of a deal.

When the Wailers took the stage, Eileen and Dennis forged their way up front but in the mass of humanity I wound up getting left in the dust, and when I say mass of humanity I mean just that. People were closer than shoulder to shoulder and breathing room was at a premium. It’s times like that where being 6’1″ is a major disadvantage, and while I did spend some time in the crowd it just wasn’t worth the aggravation. I decided to bail out to the back and watch the show from afar. Yet even the view from the back was crowded and after four or five songs I decided that fresh air was a much better proposition.

As I was wandering out on the beach I ran into Sue and Pat again, so I plopped down in the sand next to them and chatted away the night, scoring some free beers when they had to take off early for the night. I was enjoying the music and watching the surf when I noticed a young woman in a hooded sweatshirt sitting all by herself. I decided to go over and offer my company for a few moments, and was shocked that she didn’t flat out tell me to take a swim in the deep part of the ocean, or something to that effect.

I came to find out that she was there with her friends, including one of the boyfriend variety, but she was an interesting conversationalist and I wasn’t doing anything else so we continued on and on. I met her boyfriend and we all hung out at one of the bars inside, where she began talking about possibly hooking me up with one of her friends.

I KNEW there was a reason I kept talking to her. ^_^

Well, OK, so I’m really not THAT crude and base, but it was nice to have a complete stranger offer to hook me up with a friend. At some point in the future this may just come to pass, but that is future talk and this here is a flashback, sooooooo….

The evening ended with me buying a CD from Topaz himself to round out my collection and waiting on the trunk of Dennis’ car after the bar let out to get my ride home. All in all a great night out, but I had a feeling it would at the very least be equaled on Saturday.

The next morning I awoke to the scene of a monsoon out of my bedroom window, which would have been fine if I were going to stay home and paint my room all day long. However my plans were to go catch a handful of refugee bands from the canceled Bonnaroo NE over at the Waterloo Concert Field.

I had been trying like mad to find some way up to this event for months and months, but everyone that I had asked had one reason or another that they couldn’t go and none of those reasons were for a lack of wanting. But about a week before, good friend Joanna had a sudden change of plans and found herself able to go. The self-proclaimed metal head had even shown a desire to broaden her musical horizons and I was more than happy to open her ears the way mine were opened so long ago. On top of that this was going to be Joanna’s last weekend in New Jersey, so I wanted to make it a memorable one. As I write this she is now out and about in Ohio working on getting her masters in Anthropology at Kent State.

So what better way to send a friend off than with a day of music under the sun, right?

Well, that was the plan, but mother nature just wasn’t having any part of it. The majority of the hour and a half drive was spent with the wipers on and my eyes watching the unending banks of gray clouds. I kept thinking “Good thing I brought that poncho with me” and quietly suppressed my disappointment at missing out on an opportunity to work on my tan.

We arrived a little before 2 pm and were directed to park in the middle of a grassy field that was still 3/4 empty, walked up to the box office to grab some of the very plentiful tickets and made our way inside just in time for the second act of the afternoon — Soulive.

They opened with a great rendition of “Cash’s Dream” and as if on cue the rain started to let up and the sun made its way out from behind the clouds. Now I know the band is good and all, but I had no idea that their playing could control the forces of nature. Drummer Alan Evans announced to the crowd “we planned it that way” in between songs. The trio continued on with a solid set, with renditions of “E.D. Hambone” and “Tuesday Night’s Squad” being among the highlights for yours truly.

As the set ended and the stage crew started switching setups Joanna and I decided to take a tour of the craft and food tents around the field, partially for curiosities’ sake and partially to take cover from the returning rain. The stage was being occupied by a young woman with an Ovation guitar and a great playing style who was doing her best to keep the audiences mind off of the raindrops and having to wait around in the midst of them before the next of the major acts took the stage. She had a very unique playing style where she provided her own percussion and what sounded like two separate guitar parts all at the same time on the same instrument. I really wish I had heard her name mentioned at some point, because it was really mind-bending stuff. Oh well. She was also very polite and kept apologizing for brining the rain every time she hit the stage. I figure she had come out in between Kaki King and Soulive’s sets, but since we didn’t arrive early enough I guess I’ll never know — not like I’m gonna lose sleep over the fact or anything.

At this point there were stage hands climbing up the rigging some 30 feet or so in the air to move the masses of rain water that was pooling in the tarp over the stage, and all without a net. I was dumfounded and amazed to watch the action above our heads, and even more amazed to see that they almost never latched their safety hooks onto anything while moving about. They got a round of applause after reaching the ground.

Once the rigging monkeys had finished playing about, the next band of the afternoon came out. But who were they exactly? I knew most of the lineup at this event, but the band never properly introduced themselves and I didn’t recognize them outright so I was only left to speculate. My assumption of their identity was The Disco Biscuits, partially by their playing, but mostly because a young woman who was well into her wine (or something mind altering) was twirling about through the fairly abundant crowd chanting “Disco!” “Bisco!” over and over. You would think I’d have had an easier time making this assumption, being as I’ve actually seen the band play twice before, but who ever said my mind was a steel trap?

Guitarist Jon Gutwillig came out and praised the crowd’s tenacity for being out in the rain, relating his own tales: “I was in your place 10 years ago — at an Ice Cube concert”. That line got a good laugh from the crowd. Joanna noted that drummer Samuel Altman’s set didn’t quite seem to fit him. I noted that the aqua color of it seems to come straight out of a 1950′s kitchen. Regardless, he certainly knew how to play it. As the Biscuits began to play in earnest the rain let up somewhat leaving people to simply enjoy, or revile, the trance fusion playing. There seems to be little middle ground with this group. I tend to fall on the side of liking them, and they certainly knew how to drive the crowd back and forth between methodical nodding and wild frenzy.

All that back and forth can make a man hungry, so after the Disco Biscuits said so long for the afternoon, Joanna and I headed off to grab some grub. I indulged in a very tasty chicken teriyaki BBQ sandwich and we split a funnel cake for desert. Also, the reprieve from the rain was holding on in between sets so this gave us a chance to lay out towels and rest our legs a bit. Standing around all day can really take the life out of you, y’know.

With dinner finished and the rain starting up once again (notice a theme here?), we rushed back to the front of the stage to catch the next act out of the chute: Medeski Martin and Wood (or MMW for short). We grabbed a spot on the left side of the stage after being set stage right for most of the afternoon up to this point.

Now this being my first time experiencing MMW, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. What I witnessed could be described as a grand experiment in controlled mayhem, with all three members going off on insane tangents at times. Hell, for a while it sounded like they were doing a live performance of Star Wars sound effects! But never did they fail to keep my attention.

One thing they did fail to do was properly bribe Mother Nature, because the rain just kept on coming through their set. At one point I feared that the trio would be electrocuted as the PA system buzzed, popped and crackled with the sound of electricity. I swear the little hairs on my arms were standing on end with just the sound, and yet they still played on.

Their musical madness also served to inspire insanity in the certain crowd members. One in particular stands out: a man wearing a balloon hat, a blanket cape and no shirt running through the crowd saying “rubble rubble” just like the Hamburglar. You just can’t make shit like that up!

As MMW’s set started to draw to a close, they decided to go into their bag of tricks and pulled out a beautiful cover of Jimi Hendrix’s “Hey Joe”. I personally think Jimi was moved to tears because as they played the rain started coming down harder and faster, with the crowd raising in volume to meet every surge. Quite a moving experience.

In between sets Joanna and I moved up closer to the stage where we ran into a somewhat unique phenomena. There was a young man walking around grabbing trash from the fore of the stage and as far as I could tell he was just a regular fan doing this from the kindness of his own heart. He kept asking people to pick up trash so they wouldn’t have to dance on it, and lo and behold people did as he requested. Like I said: a somewhat unique phenomena.

The next act to take the stage was The Flaming Lips, along with their multitude of props, smoke machines, strobe lights, balloons and a menagerie of people in suits including two suns, rabbits, frogs, pandas, lions, owls, bears and even Santa Claus himself. Of course the weirdest of them all was lead Lip, Wayne Coyne.

Their set kicked off with a deluge of balloons of every size and color you can imagine. I could barely go five seconds without having to knock one away lest I have it fall on my head. I spent just as much time watching the balloons as I did the performance. It was like I was a 9 year old again and I was at the world’s biggest birthday party. It was an experience in pure childhood joy and drinking it all in as best I could.

Wayne lead the crowd in some hokey hand waving fun (as he put it) and a couple of sing-a-longs. The first was during “Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots” where he directed everyone through the chorus. Sing it with me now:

Oh Yoshimi
They don’t believe me
But you won’t let those
Robots defeat me
Oh Yoshimi
They don’t believe me
But you won’t let those
Robots eat me

The next sing song session was much easier on those who had never been to a Flaming Lips show before (like myself, for example). First, Wayne went and found the names of three people in the crowd who were having birthdays and instructed the crowd on how to sing through the name part, making sure we were all on the same page when it came time to say “Pat, Ruben and Sara”. Then, just before the band started to play, he introduced the song as “Happy Birthday…in Blood” and proceeded to douse his forehead in fake blood. Friggin’ brilliant!

And speaking of brilliant, I could say the same for the skills of drummer Steven Drozd. When I first caught a glimpse of the see-throught neon-pink drum set he had, I was intrigued but hardly impressed. His skill on what appeared to be a fairly limited set (with a base drum, floor tom, snare and I believe only one cymbal) really caught me off guard. A good argument for less is more, I think.

One of the final antics that Wayne and company performed once again involved the giant balloons. During one song (of which the only thing I can remember was a chorus involving the word “tangerine”) Wayne jumped up onto a platform with some kind of gun in his hand and the band started playing louder and faster. Suddenly from the gun started to inflate the largest balloon of the night. As it grew, the crowd grew louder and the band played faster. Louder, faster, larger, louder, faster, larger…and then “BAM!”…balloon pieces and confetti everywhere!

For their on stage antics, not to mention musical prowess, the Flaming Lips gained at least one new fan that night. In fact, I’m looking to book them for my next birthday party…in blood. ^_^

It was hard to believe that after that performance that we still had one more band to go. The headliner for the evening was none other than the…rain? Again? And not just any rain, but the mother of all monsoons which drenched and soaked without mercy. It rained so hard that once again the rafter monkeys had to scale the rigging to properly drain the roof. Still, the crowd waited patiently through it all…because the headliner was none other than The String Cheese Incident.

Of course, waiting patiently and waiting silently are two entirely different things. There were the occasional chants of “rain or shine” rolling through the crowd. I even started a small “”we want String Cheese” chant. I was even joking with a few people near me that they might very well see the first ever hippie riot if the band didn’t take the stage soon.

Once enough water was cleared away and the threat of the band being electrocuted put to rest, String Cheese took the stage. There we were, 4th row right up front and I had the opportunity to take some great shots with my camera. Let’s just turn it on and….turn it on and…TURN IT ON AND…SHIT! All the water had managed to render my camera inoperative in this clutch concert-going moment! Argh! All I could do at that moment was hope it was a temporary condition (which it turned out to be), stow the camera deep in my backpack and enjoy the show before me. There was no way I was wasting the experience of being so close to the band by brooding over somethign that was now out of my hands. Their playing was tight as anything and they easily had the crowd wrapped around their fingers. I reveled in being up front and center when they played “Joyful Sound”, one of my favorite selections.

But eventually Joanna needed to rest her feet, so after about five songs or so we drove to the back of the field and camped out on the lawn a bit, taking in the music from afar and the relative comfort of the seated position. This also provided me with some ample room to dance about in (nothing like having a 10′ radius in which to work without fear of running into someone). They pulled out a grand cover of the Talking Heads “Life During Wartime” (you probably know it: “This ain’t no party / This ain’t no disco / This ain’t no fooling around…”) which had me moving so fast I thought my heart would leap out through my chest.

Eventually we decided to try and beat the crowd out with about 40 minutes of show left. To be honest I was starting to feel the strain a bit, but Joanna was feeling it much more. Seeing as she was my ride home, I didn’t argue the point with her. He packed out things and headed back to the parking lot, with SCI still on stage and playing.

Out in the lot, which was now mostly mud, I tried to help some people who were in various stages of peril. One car had a woman lying on the hood of a car while the man inside was fuming about it. He waved me over and asked me to help talk her off the hood, but she steadfastly refused. When she mentioned that it was her husband inside the car, I graciously excused myself from my mediating duties. No way I’m getting involved in a parking lot domestic dispute — I’m no Dr. Phil, nor would I want be.

Now a car bogged down in the mud I can help with. I figured there was going to be a bit of this going around, what with all the water falling and everything. I also figured that we would need a little pushing to get Joanna’s Honda out of the mud as well. I happened to be right on both counts. As I was attempting to balance the necessary strength to push cars through a muddy field with the balance to not fall face first into said mud, String Cheese broke into “Search”, another personal favorite of mine. Those were the last notes I heard from the Waterloo Concert Field as we broke back onto paved roadway and started heading back towards Brick.

All in all, a grand day with equally grand music. A little less water and a little more sun would have added to the experience, but believe it or not the rain took nothing from it. I’ve always liked playing out in the summer rain as a kid; maybe the kid in me never quite got over it.

Tags: Personal

This entry was posted on Friday, August 15th, 2003 at 7:25 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.