The Most Insane Rap Show I’ve Ever Attended
I’ve been to a lot of crazy concerts, including a lot of
death metal and punk shows, but this was the all-time wildest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Hell, I’ve performed at some pretty wild metal shows. Note also that for some I might even hold this
crown in their own lives, for my blacked-out performance in Vegas when I rapped
while unconscious, cursed the club owners, and threw my drink at the wall. But
that’s bush-league stuff compared to this epic event.
The year was 1988. I wrote rap lyrics, sold acid, and hung
out with my metal band Gortician before they started writing original music. The
bass-player/singer and I heard about a show in New Orleans and decided to
attend.
Naturally, I dressed for the occasion. A Sonic baseball cap
turned jauntily askew, 3D glasses taped to my head, and my wife’s dance outfit
from when she was younger. It was a leotard that I had cut the bottom off of,
and had a green-sequined bow tie with checkerboard sleeves. Because Flava Flav.
We drove down from Baton Rouge smoking weed, and arrived
fashionably late, missing the first act, MC Hammer. That was probably
intentional. We seemed to be the only two white dudes in attendance, in a
massive throng of New Orleans natives. No pun intended.
It was December, but that doesn’t mean cold, in Louisiana.
In fact, the 15,000 or so attendees made the arena decidedly warm from the
start. Which made EPMD’s decision to wear their bomber jackets on stage the
beginning of a very interesting evening.
“Fuck it, we’re gonna rock it with our shit on!”
They hit on all their most popular tracks at the time. Probably “Jane”, “Strictly
Business”, and “You Gots to Chill”. This alone would have been worth the price
of admission.
Then they said, “Can our DJ fuck his turntable?”
Scratch, as he was known, proceeded to literally hump the turntable,
and literally cut up a record up using his crotch. This was my first and only
time witnessing such an event. Epic.
Ice-T was up next, and for whatever reason, my bassist and I
split up. He probably went to get a beer.
I was stage left, and pretty close to the action. Ice-T and company were wild. Extremely amped up. Some swole cat was doing one-armed push-ups. Afrika Islam was the hype man.
Everything was extremely frantic. Ice was throwing albums or cardboard posters
into the crowd like frisbees. T-shirt cannons were being fired, and they might
have had real money packed in them? It’s a bit of a blur.
Something really got the crowd’s attention, probably “Colors’.
As I’m standing there taking this all in as best I could, I was pushed from
behind.
I turned around to see a kid standing there with his arms crossed as if nothing happened. Oh, well. It must have been an accident. Although there was no one else there.
I ignored him, turned back to the show, and he did it again…
If I hit this kid, I thought, I will never exit this arena
alive. Letting it go might be the smartest decision I have ever made. If it had
been a metal show and a metalhead, I would have probably jumped on him the first
time.
But the set ended, and Public Enemy was up next, which is
who we were really there to see. My bassist and I found each other, somehow,
and started moving in through the standing crowd at center stage.
“Excuse us, excuse me,” we said as we pushed through.
We got within ten people of the front row, and what seemed
like the biggest dude there tapped us on the shoulder and shook his head no. We
probably should have argued the point. It was fucking Public Enemy. However,
noise conditions made rational debate difficult, and we were already in over
our heads. Plus we were pretty close, and were able to keep our spot. A compromise
was reached.
Now, when I say it was December, it was actually December 24th.
Christmas Eve.
PE came out hard. The first words spoken were by Professor
Griff. “Fuck a motherfuckin' white Jesus!”
Woah. This did not sit particularly well with the New
Orleans crowd, and set the tone for the rest of the performance. Try as they
might, they absolutely could not capture the audience’s attention in a positive
way. Even Flava Flav’s “New Orleans is rock-kin!” singalong fell flat.
In fact, the only real reaction they got was when Terminator
X cut up the Flash Gordon theme song. To be fair, he probably was the greatest part of the ensemble on that night, doing his best Johnny “Juice” Rosado impression.
As if the set’s opener wasn’t shocking enough, the New Orleans Police Department was doing security that night, and about three songs in,
Chuck D took it down between songs and said, “There’a a lot of niggers out here…with
badges and guns.”
Yes, hard R and all. I think the first part really shook the
audience, and the punchline was lost on them. It probably contributed to the lukewarm
reaction. But holy shit, Chuck. They kill people down here for less than that.
It was easily the most radical statement I’ve ever heard at any concert.
We split up again after that, probably for another refill of beer. N.W.A. was up next.
N.W.A. with Ice Cube, mind you.
They came out loud as fuck, heavily distorted and yelling.
The atmosphere changed instantly. You could smell the weed, dust, and coke in the air. People were drunk and riled
up.
There were gunshots in the mix. There might have been gunshots
in the arena. Everyone chose that moment to go buck wild.
No more than two or three songs into the set, and we found
each other. By mutual agreement, we both said, “Let’s get the fuck out of here”
and made our way to the exits. Along the way, the gang task force had groups of
people in identical track suits lined up against the wall. It looked like every
available cop was arresting someone.
We made it to the vehicle and split back to Baton Rouge. That
was 33 years ago, and it remains the wildest concert we’ve ever been to.
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