the democratic convention
we must have been seventeen, and dave hade a slick new mustang - a white roaring 5.0. kinda like the one from menace to society - the movie he could quote word for word, like so many other movies. tommy boy, fear, good fellas, casino - he loved scorcese and knew he was the greatest american director. he loved the sad part on good fellas - the piano epilogue to eric claptons "layla." how bob de niro smoked that cigarette and contemplated murder. dave loved the poetry of that scene.
i was in a shitty band, probably the worst one ever. alli really had was some rage against the machine, hendrix, and james brown like chops, while the drummer was a punk rockabilly, while the other guitar and bass player, who were cousins, were strictly into metal and thrash punk - so it was an interesting mux and we actually did have 3 or 4 decent jam sessions where we convinced one another that it was legit. mostly we got into trouble together. rage against the machine was looking to start some trouble at the democratic convention at the staples center in los angeles in 2000.
its summer time and dave and i hear about the concert and decide to go early and get up close. the psychobilly drummer friend of mine jesse heard about it and came along too. dave this is jesse, jesse, dave. when we got downtow and realized we were about 5 hours too early, we decided to just take a walk around the city blocks, just me and dave - alameda & figueroa - lets get some el pollo loco to hold us off. its around the corner, look at those cops, fuck em. thats right, were here to see rage.
dave mentions, "hey that kid jesse is kind of lame huh."
"yeah hes just a kid man, but hes a pretty good drummer."
"hasnt he heard the rebel days are over?"
"haha, i know.."
"naw hes cool man.."
jesse was saving our spot underneath a tree across the street from the stage, which was mostly occupied by either extreme left or extreme right wing lunatics all day, just spouting off the most insanely paranoid schemes of world domination etc. then there were some pacifists, tibetans, blood people, anti fascist, and of course world wide revolutionaries. We languished in the street for three hours and waited for the time to start holding down a spot at the very front. it was august and humid deep in the crevice of downtown los angeles,
we were 17 - jesse ditched school, dave and i were free - we all were free to walk the streets and wait for a riot that day. so when everyone else got off work and started trickling toward the staples center, we mozied our way up to the very front, ready to rock out, for free, to our favorite band, on an awesome occasion.
Anticipation just boiled and boiled; we saw the band arrive, yelled whats up to em backstage, and felt the crowd just continue to swell. this was a free concert people! damn, how far can you see?
"i cant see man. how many people are there?"
"dang man a whole bunch."
concert was crazy. rage hits the stage and de la rocha calls out the democrats and calls for violence basically - the band breaks into "freeedom" and the plastic barricade which was supported soley by the backs of about 7 security guards spills throngs of concert goers into the backstage area. the crush was incredible, and while i could catch whiffs of cool air standing a head above the rest (the best time my height had ever come in use), my two partners david and jesse wore look sof extreme distress, suffocation, and consternation. from the first note us three became slowly seperated and dispersed throughout this vast inhuman sea of bodies. who controlled its movement? the guitarist? bass player, drummer, singer? jesse went over the rail first. how funny is was, how badly he wanted get out of the pit of steaming bodies! ughhh, "ill se you back at the car man!"
"all right!!"
i looked back for dave behind me to my right, i see him struggling to make his way toward the front again. we make eye contact and he shoots a smile, bangs his head a few times in strained delight and then reverts to the struggle of keeping some control over his body. i watched dave fight for his life and eventually make it to the front and pull himself up and over the rail, even while a fat security guard defiantly stood right in front of him. that fat fuck only wanted to helo ut pretty yougng girls.
dave screamed in his face," i wanna get out man! let me outta here!"
the swaety mexicano backed down right away and let him over.
I watched him the whole while, and as he made it to the other side, he frantically scanned the crowd, and having spotted me screamed, and jumped while saying so, "meet me at the car! MEET ME BACK AT THE CAR!" gesticulating so perfectly.
barricades continue to break and bodies continue to mash up against one another. a so called zapatista reaches into my back pocket visciously and greedily and without regard for repurcussion - which was my blunt elbow - i struck what turned out to be a her in the chest and chin at least three times - sending psanic through the throng all about me - as they realized blows were being dealt. i knew it was time to get the hell out too. rage played 7 songs and i rocked my head for about 5 of them with pure enjoyment and release. suddenly things got grave once the band left the stage.
a bright girl in a recen tclass of mine told it like this, "its like rage at the democratic concention a few years ago - i mean you just cant start a riot and get in your heliocpter and jam." she was right that it was a prety big cop out. rock star thing to do.
when she put it like that it was the first t ime i ever thought of blaming th eband - some people went to jail that nite and mant people were gassed and pepper spraed for un lawfull assembly. the cops took the stage and ordetred everyone to leave imediately in 15v minuties or else. i was about i the middle of the crowd and wise dup quickly - a yong sharp mind assesed it quicjkly. from the west i could see the police breaking ranks and beyod the them police men bobbing up and down on their horses. here came the mounted baton wieldikng men. the Crooks, the Calvary. to crush and deliver blows to the angry mexicans and colerds who are demanding a change in affairs. who are here to rock out and grafittti the buldings, to light fires, spread propaghnada, make plots to overthorw shit and cause anarcary in every way possible.
rage was sublininaly calling for violent overthrow and perhaps that was their "end." when all their fans were trapped and made to realzie that the military oiolic force of th elapd could crush any similar assembnly in the future. so as we are learning in iraq the lead singer resorted to gurellia warfare - goinginto the jungle for a bit. i saw him at a basquiat opening. hes coming out of th ewoods again and rag eis back together for rock the bells in san bernadino.
funny how one bands message of guerilla warfare resounds through the throngs of los angeles. they realized that the people were divided and conquered. and so they di what they could to bring us bakc together - to regather the scattered timbers and embers of the fire.
shoot it just got too dangerous for that cat. you dpont think people told him
"yo - your gettin close to death. better pull bakc just a bit. chill out cuz it cant any more serious than this. no more riots in your name and no more band memebers acting like tweaked out idiots at award shows."
the coips made it so that there was only one way out of the concert area. i remembered the way in. one little narrow sidestreet, lined with cops in riot gear. luckly before the muntees descended upon me or the pepper spray touched my nse, i quickly filed down that same side street alongf with a a myriad of others -0 mnany angry bold onoes, many mad ones screaming and flipping off th epolice - i was just looking for y friends - where are they?
david popped into view, he wa spumped, and so was i -
ill never forget ohw ge said it 0 "dude lets get the fuck out of here! theres gonna be a riot an lets go cmon!" He was genuinely scared and his senses were even more in a protective mode than my own. his urgency got us out of the downtown area in about 5 minutes.
the whole way home back to the sgv, us three buzzed about what had just happened, and how it was all totaslly worth it to have waited around all day. we would go home and watch thew real brutasltiy o the television ,call eacvh otetr up and thank god we didnt get caught up in that fray. our parents were worried about us that day. we felt the history of it, and knew we had a great memeory to cherish. a great politcal, musical, social emory we shared. that was the second time we saw our favorite band together. the first was alot more serious.
i was in a shitty band, probably the worst one ever. alli really had was some rage against the machine, hendrix, and james brown like chops, while the drummer was a punk rockabilly, while the other guitar and bass player, who were cousins, were strictly into metal and thrash punk - so it was an interesting mux and we actually did have 3 or 4 decent jam sessions where we convinced one another that it was legit. mostly we got into trouble together. rage against the machine was looking to start some trouble at the democratic convention at the staples center in los angeles in 2000.
its summer time and dave and i hear about the concert and decide to go early and get up close. the psychobilly drummer friend of mine jesse heard about it and came along too. dave this is jesse, jesse, dave. when we got downtow and realized we were about 5 hours too early, we decided to just take a walk around the city blocks, just me and dave - alameda & figueroa - lets get some el pollo loco to hold us off. its around the corner, look at those cops, fuck em. thats right, were here to see rage.
dave mentions, "hey that kid jesse is kind of lame huh."
"yeah hes just a kid man, but hes a pretty good drummer."
"hasnt he heard the rebel days are over?"
"haha, i know.."
"naw hes cool man.."
jesse was saving our spot underneath a tree across the street from the stage, which was mostly occupied by either extreme left or extreme right wing lunatics all day, just spouting off the most insanely paranoid schemes of world domination etc. then there were some pacifists, tibetans, blood people, anti fascist, and of course world wide revolutionaries. We languished in the street for three hours and waited for the time to start holding down a spot at the very front. it was august and humid deep in the crevice of downtown los angeles,
we were 17 - jesse ditched school, dave and i were free - we all were free to walk the streets and wait for a riot that day. so when everyone else got off work and started trickling toward the staples center, we mozied our way up to the very front, ready to rock out, for free, to our favorite band, on an awesome occasion.
Anticipation just boiled and boiled; we saw the band arrive, yelled whats up to em backstage, and felt the crowd just continue to swell. this was a free concert people! damn, how far can you see?
"i cant see man. how many people are there?"
"dang man a whole bunch."
concert was crazy. rage hits the stage and de la rocha calls out the democrats and calls for violence basically - the band breaks into "freeedom" and the plastic barricade which was supported soley by the backs of about 7 security guards spills throngs of concert goers into the backstage area. the crush was incredible, and while i could catch whiffs of cool air standing a head above the rest (the best time my height had ever come in use), my two partners david and jesse wore look sof extreme distress, suffocation, and consternation. from the first note us three became slowly seperated and dispersed throughout this vast inhuman sea of bodies. who controlled its movement? the guitarist? bass player, drummer, singer? jesse went over the rail first. how funny is was, how badly he wanted get out of the pit of steaming bodies! ughhh, "ill se you back at the car man!"
"all right!!"
i looked back for dave behind me to my right, i see him struggling to make his way toward the front again. we make eye contact and he shoots a smile, bangs his head a few times in strained delight and then reverts to the struggle of keeping some control over his body. i watched dave fight for his life and eventually make it to the front and pull himself up and over the rail, even while a fat security guard defiantly stood right in front of him. that fat fuck only wanted to helo ut pretty yougng girls.
dave screamed in his face," i wanna get out man! let me outta here!"
the swaety mexicano backed down right away and let him over.
I watched him the whole while, and as he made it to the other side, he frantically scanned the crowd, and having spotted me screamed, and jumped while saying so, "meet me at the car! MEET ME BACK AT THE CAR!" gesticulating so perfectly.
barricades continue to break and bodies continue to mash up against one another. a so called zapatista reaches into my back pocket visciously and greedily and without regard for repurcussion - which was my blunt elbow - i struck what turned out to be a her in the chest and chin at least three times - sending psanic through the throng all about me - as they realized blows were being dealt. i knew it was time to get the hell out too. rage played 7 songs and i rocked my head for about 5 of them with pure enjoyment and release. suddenly things got grave once the band left the stage.
a bright girl in a recen tclass of mine told it like this, "its like rage at the democratic concention a few years ago - i mean you just cant start a riot and get in your heliocpter and jam." she was right that it was a prety big cop out. rock star thing to do.
when she put it like that it was the first t ime i ever thought of blaming th eband - some people went to jail that nite and mant people were gassed and pepper spraed for un lawfull assembly. the cops took the stage and ordetred everyone to leave imediately in 15v minuties or else. i was about i the middle of the crowd and wise dup quickly - a yong sharp mind assesed it quicjkly. from the west i could see the police breaking ranks and beyod the them police men bobbing up and down on their horses. here came the mounted baton wieldikng men. the Crooks, the Calvary. to crush and deliver blows to the angry mexicans and colerds who are demanding a change in affairs. who are here to rock out and grafittti the buldings, to light fires, spread propaghnada, make plots to overthorw shit and cause anarcary in every way possible.
rage was sublininaly calling for violent overthrow and perhaps that was their "end." when all their fans were trapped and made to realzie that the military oiolic force of th elapd could crush any similar assembnly in the future. so as we are learning in iraq the lead singer resorted to gurellia warfare - goinginto the jungle for a bit. i saw him at a basquiat opening. hes coming out of th ewoods again and rag eis back together for rock the bells in san bernadino.
funny how one bands message of guerilla warfare resounds through the throngs of los angeles. they realized that the people were divided and conquered. and so they di what they could to bring us bakc together - to regather the scattered timbers and embers of the fire.
shoot it just got too dangerous for that cat. you dpont think people told him
"yo - your gettin close to death. better pull bakc just a bit. chill out cuz it cant any more serious than this. no more riots in your name and no more band memebers acting like tweaked out idiots at award shows."
the coips made it so that there was only one way out of the concert area. i remembered the way in. one little narrow sidestreet, lined with cops in riot gear. luckly before the muntees descended upon me or the pepper spray touched my nse, i quickly filed down that same side street alongf with a a myriad of others -0 mnany angry bold onoes, many mad ones screaming and flipping off th epolice - i was just looking for y friends - where are they?
david popped into view, he wa spumped, and so was i -
ill never forget ohw ge said it 0 "dude lets get the fuck out of here! theres gonna be a riot an lets go cmon!" He was genuinely scared and his senses were even more in a protective mode than my own. his urgency got us out of the downtown area in about 5 minutes.
the whole way home back to the sgv, us three buzzed about what had just happened, and how it was all totaslly worth it to have waited around all day. we would go home and watch thew real brutasltiy o the television ,call eacvh otetr up and thank god we didnt get caught up in that fray. our parents were worried about us that day. we felt the history of it, and knew we had a great memeory to cherish. a great politcal, musical, social emory we shared. that was the second time we saw our favorite band together. the first was alot more serious.