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BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE TIBET | PAGE 1, 2
About 20 minutes later, winds and showers started whipping across the grounds, and a thunderous crash came from somewhere high in the stadium. "Uh-oh, lightning," I thought. "And Herbie is next to all the electrical equipment." But the video monitors outside showed him still playing away. A while later, I nudged back into the media area. The festival staff was dashing around with walkie-talkies, and a mild, tentative sort of chaos had taken hold of the compound. "Everybody out! The press has to move!" A woman ordered. "We don't want to be held responsible if this tent goes!" Goes? What? "If anybody's hurt, we don't want to be responsible!" she explained. "Everybody must go to Gate B!" There I got the story from an MTV producer. "A guy was struck by lightning up in the stands," he said. "A girl freaked out, and the whole crowd turned around and watched while Hancock kept playing. They brought an ambulance in through the crowd. It was weird: Some of the people took advantage and pushed their way up front -- like all right!" Then he asked me how he could upgrade his shitty media credentials. "Do you know where I could score a photo pass or something?" "Try dating a publicist." After scurrying around for a while, I ended up backstage. It was panic back there. A phalanx of policemen was ejecting VIPs from the stage, and a gang of security guards came bursting out of the loading area. One shouted, "They're robbing the till!" I tailed the guards back up to the VIP compound and watched as they hauled off a mob of spectators who'd crashed the gate and were looting the catering trucks. Nevertheless, Milarepa issued a press release the next day saying the concert had been evacuated smoothly and that no incidents had occurred. Not so. But if anybody out there really did rip off money from the concert, that lightning bolt was rightfully yours -- and I hope another one gets you soon. If you just ripped off food from the VIP area, remember what they say about times of crisis: When order fails, as it did on Saturday, and people are faced with that crucial existential moment of choice between dignity and swinishness, it becomes plain how things really stand and who falls on which side of the divide. Sunday, again, came off beautifully. Buffalo Daughter and Sean Lennon opened, each putting in pretty good, though unspectacular, sets. Pulp upped the ante a bit, with Jarvis Cocker poncing around like the last of the playboys. And Blues Traveler, the Wallflowers, the Beasties and on and on. Radiohead is in serious ascendancy. Where last year they were a scrappy Britpop band for the import crowd, this time they're nearly fledged rock gods. Tight, tight set, as usual. The "OK Computer" cuts got huge roars, and Michael Stipe came on to sing "The Bends," just to drive home the point a little more. They ended with "Creep," which is sort of a concession to American tastes. But it was obvious, as it wasn't last time, that they don't need to ride on the song in America anymore. R.E.M.'s set showed Stipe coming on in an attractive sweater-and-skirt ensemble, with Johnny Ray earpiece still in effect. They opened with a bells-and-beatbox piece, tore through some hits ... and there's Radiohead's Thom Yorke, taking on some of Stipe's vocals. He does a good Stipe, in fact. The set ended with "Man on the Moon," which can seem insipid on record, but is somehow ungodly rousing in concert. So, strangely, was Pearl Jam, who are riding their second wind farther than anybody would've thought even a few months ago. They opened with "Corduroy" and worked into the newer material, with the crowd exploding for each new song. But there were dissenters. The priceless Eddie Vedder moment of the evening came when he admonished a couple of water-bottle throwers with the old "You know who you are" rap. "But," he said, "the rest of y'all have been really good." Then WHOP! He gets it right in the face with a projectile. An audible "Oof!" came thundering from the speakers, and Pearl Jam had once again earned their place at the forefront of rock. Priceless Vedder Quote: Called President Clinton a cunt. Nice language, Ed. But the best part of the festival came after Pearl Jam, the headliners,
had wrapped it up and said goodnight. Their equipment was still humming on
the stage and the field was emptying when the Red Hot Chili Peppers bounded on and
tore into "Give It Away." The crowd, caught totally off-guard, came
storming back and went mad to a three-song mini-set. The Peppers had
borrowed stage time (and equipment) from Pearl
Jam -- it was a great surprise gift for the audience, who'd had to deal
with a lot on the previous day. For those of you who sank to the occasion,
like Eddie said, you know who you are. For everyone else, I've kept off
politics so far, but here's a link to the Milarepa Fund's Web site. Please go there
and check it out right now. See what the news is.
Tibetan
Freedom Concert, Part One Downing Stadium, Randall's Island, New York.
Tibetan
Freedom Concert, Part Two
Free your mind, Tibet will follow An interview with Erin Potts, co-founder of the Milarepa Fund
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