Their is a line that goes something like “People will amaze you with what they are capable of, once they abandon dignity” –
Let me be clear – I abandoned ALL dignity to see this show and I’m not ashamed. Well maybe just a little.
6:30 pm
Though its early and I was buzzed and dehydrated within an inch of my life – I left Stubb’s to go find the venue for tonight’s Third Man Records Showcase – It was not hard to find as all I had to look for was the Third Man Rolling Record Store – a giant yellow ambulance – that doubles as a mobile record store a la fireworks stand.
For those that do not know, the label and all its quirky ambition is lead by Jack White.
Though I was on the guest list and he wasn’t going on till 11pm, I wasn’t taking any chances.
Doors were supposed to open at 7pm and it already looked like the apocalypse outside – I’m not kidding between the customers buying records to the baffling three line system of badges, wristbands, and guest lists/etc it looked like the entire festival was here trying to get in. I started to fear for the other acts, that suddenly the rest of the city was a ghost town and when Eminem and 50 Cent arrive at their showcase to an empty house, the festival organizers have to answer to drawn guns that they made the mistake of scheduling them opposite of the great one.
So after spending waaaay too much money on records and running them to my car I get back to my place in line and here is where shit is going to get really confusing –
When I return the organizers decided to unite two of the lines and so the one I’m in is now expected to snake around to the other one retaining its same formation to varying degrees of success. While in line I meet some pretty cool people – who proved that while holding my place in line while I ran to get smokes.
I was talking to this girl who had come all the way from Denver with her husband just to see this – I was impressed but she started weirding me out with alot of talk about Jack White chat rooms and message boards and couldn’t even get out the sentence “Do you think we will get in?” without starting to cry. Ok – so I guess I’m not his biggest fan.
This dude in front of her notices that I do not have a badge or a wristband (because all that shit is a total scam) and it appears you need clearance from the FBI just to talk to the door guy, and asks how I plan to get in, when I tell him that I am on the guest list. He informs me that the guest list line is where they just had us snake from – So I return and ask the security guy that told us to do the initial snaking if this was the guest list area, which was directly being the record store truck, now totally roped off with an air of seclusion.
He lets me under the ropes and I’m now in this little area that again is hidden between the record store truck and the wall of the venue.
Also this venue, The Stage on 6th looked really cool and I’m sure it was no coincidence that Jack had picked this place to play.
Very country with Willie Nelson murals on the wall – but it didn’t help the crush or control of the crowd because their were several open air windows that allowed you to see directly in without ever entering the place, and everyone on the other side of truck was jockeying for position.
As I enter this weird roped off area on the sidewalk for guest list people, for a about one full minute I’m the only one there, before two people come out with the lists – one female – one male.
We are gonna call the male Brad, and the female Nadia – I approach Nadia because a) she’s cute – b) Brad had this real Abercrombie & Fitch snobby thing happening as he was being totally shitty with the first guest that approached him – giving her the bad news and in no uncertain terms telling her to return from the direction from which she came.
Nadia was really friendly, I told her my name, she checked me off her list and told me to stand against this wall with a line that was forming of other people she had checked off her list.
Ok cool – now we just have to wait to go in – I start to relax and have a cigarette. And we wait and wait and wait – I realize that I’ve been in these series of lines for an hour and a half.
8:00 pm
To makes matters even more infuriating as its totally unclear what we are waiting on to be told we can leave our little queue and go in, the entire time Brad and Nadia are greeting people they clearly know and/or were expecting and without even looking at the list wave them on through. To illustrate the military like approach this event in order to gain access (from our area) either Brad or Nadia had to give the nod for you to two security guards who then had to walk you to two SXSW officiates who would suit you up and then you go in.
Fucking ridiculous. Over the course of more waiting, one by one between Nadia and Brad they have told everyone but me oddly to leave, as in not go in, but leave this area and go back from whence you came, but Nadia told me to stay – but still not the go ahead to go in. What the fuck is going on?
9:00pm
I start to get a whiff of what’s up when I overhear a conversation between Brad and a gentlemen we will call Patrick –
Patrick is easy to spot as a member of the organization as Jack White always has his roadies/staffers not in the usual jeans and wifebeaters but dressed similar to him – in 3-piece suits and bowler hats – I’m sure they are wonderfully comfortable to do heavy lifting in.
He’s outside complaining/co-miserating to Brad about the first band that is currently on that apparently isn’t a part of the showcase, as they are going over their time – Obviously unimpressed with the band’s lack of status, Patrick establishes himself instantly as a right asshole as he cuts them into pieces and is threating to pull them off stage if they play one more note.
Where this conversation become informative to my situation is that Brad and Patrick, obviously working on the same team. Brad says to Patrick “Hey while I got you here, I wanted to tell you that we have alot of people coming up to us who are on Reggie Watt’s list, and we still don’t have his” –
Patrick who is completely unsympathetic to this, and apparently Mr. Watts isn’t one of the acts at his charge, Patrick declares his only concerns are those pertaining to the acts he’s responsible for and makes a cruel joke at the expense of any poor bastard who just happens to be on Reggie Watt’s guest list, as he alludes to whom might be responsible for its dismissal.
The puzzle is coming together now as I suspect Nadia knows this and doesn’t want to tell me yet, just have me hang out till the list arrives or in the case that all of her guests have arrived than only then will she permit my entry. I have an existential crisis that I’ve made decisions that has landed me on a sidewalk for hours awaiting the go ahead from some 90 lb unpaid intern to tell me that I can go have fun.
For a good stretch its just Brad, Nadia and I, sans for the occasional hopeful who has entered our little space to petition the guest list only to be given the bad news and directions to return back under the rope. During this time, I try to make conversation and appear cool while smoking. Not in an ass-kissy way, but definitely in a display that showed me as being patient, appreciative and the furthest thing from harassing. Nadia is avoiding me like I have the 10th Plague, conversation with Brad is not much easier – I learn in our few brief exchanges that (he claims) to work as part of the team that manages Jack White.
I’m still leaning against the wall, trying not to draw his ire, when he is clearly tired of my presence – when behind the other side of the rope, suddenly Sam appears with 12 of his friends he’s hoping that I can get them into the show, shouting my name loudly. Bad timing Sam, and I’m normally very patient with him, but I just had to look at him and shrug him off, but he’s insistent – Bad timing Sam.
This gets Brad’s attention and so he walks up to me – and unbeknown to me he had no idea why I’ve been standing here for so long – and here is where I could have pulled a fast one -and I might have if I had understood the hierarchy a little better at that moment.
Brad says to me “Hey I know Nadia already checked you off her list, so what’s the deal? , you waiting for someone? –
Right then I could have lied my ass off and said, “Yeah, I was, but I’m tired of waiting so I’m just gonna go ahead on go on in now” – And in hindsight I could have with no problem – but my need to be honest, actually alerted him to my situation!
I didn’t wanna be sheisty, or suffer the embarrassment of Nadia saying “Wait a minute he’s not clear to go in yet” – and I didn’t wanna be there under some false shit, so as I’m trying to explain that Nadia checked me off the list but for reasons that are unclear she told me to wait, to this already established asshole, here comes Sam, sensing my conversation with Brad was his only chance for entry ambushes me, and that was all Brad needed to tell me that I needed to wait on the other side of the rope with everyone else and he escorts Sam and I back to the land of the rejects, after all that waiting. Thanks Sam haha
As I’m trying to explain to Sam that I am busy and we would have to talk later, he’s trying to introduce me to his friends. I don’t want to be impolite but this could quickly turn into a case of disqualification by association, by occupying this little space with an agenda unbecoming of its intent. So as I’m trying to escape this, I actually see Reggie Watts come out and hand a couple of passes to some people in front of me that were stranded for the same reasons as I. By the time I got Sam and his friends on their way, Watts was too far out of reach, and yelling out to him and jumping up and down and waving my arms like an air traffic controller that has to piss real bad was one final indignity that I was not going to suffer. Bad timing Sammy.
9:30pm
Out of desperation and my limit of humiliation had been reached and wanted to salvage my investment, I make my move.
I see a tall, buff gentlemen in his late 40’s come out periodically that thanks to my powers of observation is clearly the boss to Brad and Nadia, who seems totally cool. Isn’t it always the case that those who are actually the boss are usually pretty relaxed, where as those that are pretending to be the boss are the uptight assholes that wanna push people around. I can always detect these parasites like a fart in a car. Still on the other side of the ropes I can tell my new found brethren are dead and have no chance of getting in, and I’m about to break away from the pack.
The older gentlemen we will call Martin – I get Martin’s attention, still in a dignified manner and articulate to him, who I am, what I do and what the situation is. He perks right up and whispers to me what I already know, that the Reggie Watts list turned into a fiasco.
He also tells me that Third Man had 650 people on their guest list – for a venue that holds 700. And that’s what they never tell you –
Their are literally at least a thousand people trying to get into this thing and they would never admit that they were only going to let 50 people that are not on the guest list, and all of those will surely be badges. I wanted to go tell the people with wristbands to enjoy themselves elsewhere and never buy one of these again. If you want to get into anything at this festival, more often than not, you have to be on a band’s guest list – those badges and wristbands are not worth the paper they are printed on.
Martin was totally cool, familiar with my company and assured me that he would get me in – he just asked me to be patient. Not to rock the boat but I felt compelled to tell him that I’d been waiting for quite awhile. I didn’t want to embarrass myself by telling him just how long I had actually been waiting, and feared that it could potentially dissuade him from wanting to help me.
I decide to roll a cigarette and if Martin doesn’t return by the time I’m finished smoking I’ll have to raise the white flag.
He returns almost immediately, though making a beeline for me he is looking at everything but me, but when we make eye contact, it appears that him memory was triggered or I’m just reading way too much into it.
Martin walks right up to me, but now the rapport is very different, but he is there to deliver good news:
“I’m going to go ahead and walk you in, since its gonna be quite awhile before they start letting people in again” –
Fucking victory – but he seems put out by me now for some reason, like the security guards let him in on how long I’d been there, or he was just taking on the cadence that comes when someone wants to remind you that they are helping you – whatever.
He lifts the rope inviting me, seems super annoyed by my cigarette, tells me to put it out and to follow him – he secures my entry – I thank him intensely and make a genuine offer to repay the favor – he yeah yeahs me, seemingly simply satisfied that I was now in his debt.
Whatever the case, I was crossing the threshold, passing the security guards that seemed to be actually rooting for me at this point, and now I was in – fucking victory – Total wait time: 3 hrs 15 mins
Ok so now I’m scanning the scene and realize just how small this place is – Its perfect for this – I see that their is a permanent stage inside that is small, in the corner and the one I”m praying that he is going to play on (I’m sure the people outside were praying for this as well) – Their was another temporary erected tent/stage in the open air large courtyard in the back. Reggie Watts is winding down on the front stage and I catch the end of his act:
He was really funny as always and now I had some to time to roam the grounds in the back. I was amazed at just how NOT sardines-like it was in here and was grateful for that. I go outside and I spot someone that I know to be a part of this production, because I would see her periodically come outside to check on/chat with Nadia during my life-sucking wait.
She sees me and smiles, clearly recognizing me from before – she’s friendly, introduces herself – we will call her Laura – and makes an earnest, non-sarcastic platitude of my entry. We are chatting and both being charming when she informs me of her contribution to this soirée, one for which she was eager to announce, was that of publicist. Not ot mention but at one of the most prestigious boutique firms in the biz – Nasty Little Man
Some of you may know this little factoid – the Beastie Boys have an album called Hello Nasty, and what its referencing is their publicity firm – Nasty Little Man and in 1998, NLM had 200 active clients and were so busy that when they would answer the phone, they would just say “Hello, Nasty” –
Ok, so I’ve got Laura so charmed that when suddenly we are approached by the president of the fucking company, who is one of the kings of NYC, that she eagerly introduces me to him – who we will call Steve –
A nice introduction is made, however with a slightly inaccurate mention of my position for which I quickly recant for her. Now I wasn’t falling all over this guy, but in my experience in NYC, often my politeness and Southern manners are often mistaken for eagerness or even sometimes weakness. So, with my genuine enthusiasm for meeting Steve as well as the self-imposed demotion of my status, she seemed to regret the whole thing before I had even finished saying “Pleased to meet you” – Ok.
She bails, leaving Steve and I alone – I make informative strides at conversation and he is polite and responds, but he offers little else to the point where after the fourth exchange, though he is never rude, that this is a one-sided conversation and he is showing zero interest in me and this is not a conversation but a Q & A with the dude from Nasty Little Man – Ok.
I follow up with suggesting that I need a drink and would he like one as well – This he seemed impressed by but also declined as it appeared that he feared that by accepting my offer would mean he would be stuck with me for the rest of the night.
I get a beer from just a few feet away but taking the hint I don’t return to the land of Hello Nasty.
Ok, so how about some music? In the back tent, the all-female band the Black Belles were setting up, who were all dressed up like the Wicked Witch of the West – The band is lead by Olivia Jean – If you saw any of the shows Jack White did with Wanda Jackson she was that smoking hot bass player, they were also on an episode of The Colbert Report.
Cool look and with a heavy sound I was looking forward to seeing them, but I’m afraid to say that I was very underwhelmed. The sound in that tent was horrendous but I’m not sure I can let them off that easy. I was watching in the back, so I thought I would snap a quick picture, when my hands hadn’t even been fully lowered before this junkyard dog of a security guy aggressively grabbed my arm, and threatened to toss me if I didn’t delete the pic right then and there – More on this in a bit
I was obviously super excited to be there but the vibe of this whole thing, not to mention the sting of what had taken place in my three hours outside was just not what I had in mind, and I’m sure I’m projecting idealism here, but not what I would think Jack White would want it to be either.
I know that actor John C. Reilly is going to perform next on the smaller indoor stage so I go in there to check it out. What a weird dude and one of my favorite actors –
You might remember he played a farceful character, Dewey Cox in the movie by the same name and actually went on tour as that character so I knew he was an actual performer but I didn’t know what he would be performing besides the two singles he did for Third Man. It was some really slow and very quiet bluegrass music that was not very entertaining. He did start things off with a joke that befits him: “Knock knock – (crowd) Who’s there? – See mop – See mop who (crowd) – Ha! I just got everyone to say see my poo –
Up next on that same stage was Jack White’s (most recent) ex-wife Karen Elson – have you ever seen a guy get along better with his ex-wife’s than Jack White?
She was really good, I really liked her voice, she sounded alot like Loretta Lynn and she is also really beautiful.
Ok we were now getting down to the moment of truth (or so we thought) – After Elson, we all knew it was now time for the main event and the man of the hour would soon be taking the stage. (Editor’s Note: I had not seen his appearance on Saturday Night Live yet, and it seemed that most others in attendance had not either as the speculation of just what he was going to do was completely in the air)
The whole place, indoor and outdoor began to make that nervous lunge forward to the tiny indoor stage in the corner. I have to say that what looked the apocalypse happening outside and no one else getting in, it really wasn’t that tight inside and in some places actually roomy. So I was happy in that regard that it really wasn’t that uncomfortable, I was about to find my discomfort elsewhere.
On the way to the indoor stage, I passed Nadia who was now inside the venue, to let her know that I finally made it in and to thank her for her patience (when perhaps maybe it should have been her thanking me for how infinite mine appeared) – She wanted nothing to do with me and seemed resentful that I went over her head to solve the problem. Whatever.
Ok, so I make my way to about the halfway mark, about 10 feet from the stage, still being mindful that I’m taller than most here to not get too close. You would think that after all the waiting I had done tonight that I could withstand anything. The wait at the Department of Motor Vehicles would seem like a moving sidewalk compared to what I’ve been through tonight but oh no –
As I mentioned earlier, now matter how impractical, Mr. White has his stagehands dressed alike in probably the most restrictive formal wear imaginable, and maybe that was the culprit, but it took six fucking guys to set up a simple 3-piece drum set, one guitar and two mics over a fucking hour to strike that fucking stage. The people around me were insufferable and this one dude to my left I could already was gonna be a real problem. By the time Mr. White finally took the stage, I was murderous.
Patrick, the patriarch asshole from before finally takes the stage to make the formal introduction – Remember about me attempting to snap a photo of the Black Belles earlier? – Well Patrick actually said something profound and not only cool but made me feel a bit of a hypocrite, but not really 🙂 – He declared that no photography would be allowed – period -and the penalty would be your personal removal. It was his explanation for this that I cheered – He said that they wanted to play to the people, not a wall of cellphones – that your memories should live in your memory not on Facebook, and it would be prettier than some shitty Iphone picture – a total indictment of our current culture that is paralyzed by their goddamn cellphone – an indictment that I support completely – This was their statement – All right Patrick, your not so bad.
At long last – you could hear the cheers coming from outside as he entered the building at walked up to the stage, flanked by six females, all dressed in white, that were reminiscent of the sirens from Homer’s Odyssey.
Dressed very Grand Old Opry he gets right to business and starts the set with the White Stripes’ Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground and the place and I completely explode – There was the vibe that anything could happen, what was he gonna play??
He followed that with a couple of quiet new songs from upcoming solo record, before returning the Stripes’ catalog with Hotel Yorba – One problem, my prophecy about the gentlemen to my left was coming true immediately, hell we were all excited but this guy’s reaction, was that of a guy watching Black Sabbath in 1975, and mimicking Ozzy’s non-stop, two-fisted long-stroke to the sky – however with such wild abandon in such a tight space, this presented a problem – fueling this was, I don’t know what this guy was on, but he wasn’t just excited, he was like rabid, crazy – even kinda scary. He keep elbowing people with these thrusts, some even to the face without a care in the world, and perhaps not out of rudeness, but just out of the fact that he was so fucked up he was completely unaware.
Well with that elbow now constantly being a distraction and grazing my cheek a couple of times, and that he was screaming so loud maniacal to this quiet music that making him aware was now my duty.
Right before Hotel Yorba – I got his attention, which was not easy, he either proved my theory that he was in a world all of his own, or he knew exactly what he was doing and thought if he ignored me he wouldn’t have to answer for it. I finally grabbed him and said: “Hey brother, I want you to have a good time but when your arms are constantly in my face and I can’t see and your hitting people” –
He just nodded and went right back to what he was doing, with the full support of couple of other assholes behind him.
This proceeded and he actually hit the guy with his elbow in the face several times and when the guy told him to knock it off he just kept going. I spent the next two songs dodging this guy’s elbow and when he finally hit me with it, fueled by the baffling aggravation of the evening’s proceedings, I grabbed him a second time and said this: “Motherfucker they will drag me out of here in handcuffs before that fucking arm hits my face again!!” –
He moves over a couple of feet, but he’s right back at it doing it to somebody else, so when they move he find himself right next to me once more, and god help us if Mr. White plays a song this dude knows because then the screaming and elbow flying really takes off.
Here I am, 10 feet from Jack White, my hero, actually hoping that he doesn’t play any familiar songs because of this and the two dudes behind us let the guy know that I start any shit that its gonna the three of them against me.
Fuck this – this isn’t worth it – I came here to enjoy this, so I surrendered my up close position to retreat to the back, where I discover it was roomy, and I could actually hear and see better. I hadn’t been in my new comfortable space for one entire song before he declares that they are gonna take a short break – What? – A short break? After all this waiting? – Again I hadn’t seen SNL so I wasn’t privy to his plan.
Female Set –
Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground (White Stripes song)
Missing Pieces
Sixteen Saltines
Hotel Yorba (White Stripes song)
Love Interruption
Weep Themselves to Sleep
You Know That I Know
Freedom At 21
Hypocritical Kiss
I’m Slowly Turning Into You (White Stripes song)
I go out to the patio for a welcome sit-down and a smoke, still pretty furious, but pretty jacked about how good the set was, but still a bit quiet with new songs that I don’t know -and sure that’s what we are here for.
I go the bathroom and when I come out I see Jack White – he points to the Van Halen belt-buckle I’m wearing, he doesn’t give me the nod or even a smile, but still a clear acknowledgment of approval , hey enough for me, then he starts talking to John C. Reilly as Bill Murray comes walking up to them. Bill Murray sightings at SXSW are becoming less rare these days and it seems he shows up every year and gives everyone a good story to tell.
Surreal just the same – I’m standing behind this but I’m not gonna approach anybody – I see David Fricke from Rolling Stone Magazine, one of the world’s authorities on music walking up with rock royalty, Scott Asheton, the drummer for the Stooges. He I speak with and he’s actually happy for the recognition and we have a nice talk. I notice that Jack has left, and Fricke knows Reilly and Murray, so we sorta combine our conversations.
I’m getting a kick out of this when suddenly, Jack returns from behind us, now dressed in all black, is all business and strides back to the stage with an urgency that was downright scary (and totally awesome) – He came to play, and this time he brought an all male backing group with him, grabbed his custom guitar and tore right into the Stripes’ My Doorbell.
Talking to Fricke paid off cause now the four of us are heading side-stage and I can’t fucking believe what’s happening. He fires up my favorite song, Hello Operator like he’s picking a fight in an alley – just ferocious – and it only builds from there. It was like I wrote the set-list – what followed was a mind-boggling career spanning set that included songs from every entity practically that he has been a part of, I was beside myself. It was so strange to hear these White Stripes songs with a full-band and they sounded massive.
This went from being one of the most aggravating evenings ever, to like seriously one of the best nights of my life – everyone felt it, strangers in disbelief were talking to me and each other about how this was like the greatest thing they had ever seen.
How does he take it farther? – I know that’s like the cool indie-rock thing to do to ignore your hit song if you have one, but Jack White is not concerned with that bullshit, but it still seemed a little out of the question if he would do Seven Nation Army –
He starts the song with a slight different instrumentation but when it starts to build and everyone starts to recognize it, as dramatic as it sounds it created a unification of everyone actually singing the bass riff that lifted me off the ground. He walks to the outdoor window and leads the thousands that had gathered outside in a sing-along that you could hear inside even over the amps –
Suddenly hot bartenders are Coyote Ugly-ing their way on top of the bar, even Bill Murray gets in on the action and is dancing on top of the bar, the whole place just shook and when he led us through the sing-along I’m not ashamed to tell you that I was actually crying.
It was a beautiful moment, and a crescendo to a magical evening that I’m still in disbelief that I was fortunate to witness.
To end the set, he cooled the crowd off with another sing-along – the perfect coda of Leadbelly‘s Goodnight Irene – the perfect touch of class to a stupefying set of raw power – Strangers were hugging me and everyone else in gratitude and in song.
An absolute perfect moment – I grew an inch taller.
Male Set –
My Doorbell (White Stripes song)
Hello Operator (White Stripes song)
I Cut Like A Buffalo (Dead Weather song)
Two Against One (Rome song)
The Hardest Button to Button (White Stripes song)
Steady, As She Goes (The Raconteurs song)
Top Yourself (The Raconteurs song)
Ball and Biscuit (White Stripes song)
Seven Nation Army (White Stripes song)
Goodnight Irene (Leadbelly cover)
As I exited the venue stunned, one of the security guards saw me and grabbed me and said: “Oh my gawd, you finally made it in, we saw you passing back and forth for three hours, congratulations mate!” (he was British) –
