“kill ’em all and let god sort ’em out”
“take no prisoners”
“nobody gets out alive”
“fuck peace…fuck love…FUCK THEM!!!”
this was the “sentiment” of the backyard staff (a few of them, anyway; myself included) moments before the door whistle fired on the last of the three sold out widespread panic shows saturday night (all of those were direct quotes from a few of them). next night, same staff; same place; different attitude. now it was a jewel show. the crowd was much more mellow; and much, much, MUCH more clean, hygiene-wise (probably drug-wise, too…save for the one crusty hippy that was found sitting under a tree WAAAAAAYYYYY back in the back parking lot still tripping on something and sitting under a tree babbling to (and dribbling on) himself unaware that the panic circus had left town). to most of us, as i said, this was almost like a night off compared to the rest of the weekend.
it’s kinda odd…little foxy, folksy jewel (who’s pretty cute, has a down-right AMAZING bod (checked her out up close during sound check) and has some of the most captivatingly gorgeous women attend her shows i think i’ve ever seen…at least in groups that large…well, when i’m conscious…in my dreams that kinda happens a lot…but again, i digress…)
she is “all about the music”…letting the people hear her words….her work…her voice….her “gift”, as it were. all to the tune of $55.00 a head!!! and she makes them shut down all the bars within her sight of the stage when she goes on so nobody pays attention to ANYTHING but her. AND her stage backdrop…a warhol/monore-style montage of various color screens of JEWEL’S FACE that measures about thirty feet high and seventy-five feet wide.
she may not know who will save YOUR soul, but she damn well knows how to sell hers. and her ass. and her tits. and everything else in between. if you’ve got it, flaunt it…but don’t try that pretentious “it’s all about the art” shit. i heard enough of THAT pig crap over the last few days from the stench filled tent city that was the parking lot of the backyard for the last three days…and the “trustafarians” there in.
me & nate took a bit from will smith….in the movie “independence day” will has a tradition when the hard work is done. “the victory dance”, as he calls it….it comes “when the fat lady sings”. well, jewel is far from fat (reference above sound check comment) but it fit none the less. when she started her first song, we lit up two arturo fuente 858s from my private stash.
the two of us had stood side-by-side, FIVE days/nights in a row, dealt with over 22,000 concert goers in a week; and with the exception of about 100 jewel tickets, seen all shows sold the fuck out. a combined total of 18 guest lists, and over 1,000 will calls…it was time to celebrate. and soon there after, crash. it’s 1:35 am cdt, and my boss isn’t expecting me at my desk till noon. time to go fall on my face.
and beuford, i’m glad your momma listened to me and you’re back at home where you belong…