a peak into the teenage wasteland (i say this with the utmost PLUR) pt. 1

Again, there is a prelude to the actual review – if you like thoughts and observations, read the first part, if you like pictures and short paragraphs, skim to where the actual review starts (I’ll bold it)…

Photos – Wordsworth

Words – Wordsworth

Fun – Wordsworth

Don’t get me wrong, I love electronic music as much as anyone, there’s just always those people who can’t handle the life of a beat-maniac that give it a bad name or image (or for the sake of those who think they can, try and top Party Monster, then call yourself the ultimate kandy kid…) These people are hard to find on a normal occasion, but it turns out attending Audiotistic, or any of those mini-massives and beyond, brings the likelihood of crossing paths to about 1 in 2, maybe 3.

Story time: I was walking around with my camera and this group asks for a picture (note to self, walking around with a camera at a rave is like having a sign that says ‘free drugs,’ nobody can get enough – is it a cry for attention? [discussed later]). So I gracefully took their picture and then proceeded to be, not disrespectfully, but over zealously questioned about where the pictures were going to be posted (safe to say I did not post these specific kandy kidz). I said I didn’t publish a lot of pictures that weren’t of artists, this went to that, and I somehow came out of the conversation feeling like I had just been verbally abused without my knowledge… roofie status.

What does this story say? Ecstasy makes people outgoing, to a degree I don’t always find necessary nor do I feel they understand that which they are doing, or is it that ecstasy allows said person the ability to garner attention (via way too many plastic beads and phur… PLUR is missing an E for the environment) without the constant pain from their normal societal concious that they’re dressing and acting like toddlers… case in point – pacifiers. Is it an escape from the stinging pain that seems so prevelent now-a-days, a way to colofully rebel? Aside from my dope rhymes and swagger, I could have found myself lumped in that category some years back; in hindsight the infantile insecurities that subconsciously flow through many of ‘these people’ are only overcome in the Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect style when some fat bass is being thrown down and beaten to a pulp, or they have some love drug giggling in their stomach (or giggin’ if you’re from the bay) – it’s like the goth, the paganist, or any other non-racial minority who finds solitude and acceptence in drastic differences, just instead of wearing a black trench coat and reading sci-fi books which repeat the same hero story, they’re taking a wide assortment of drugs and designer drugs to incorporate a philosophy that is already inside them, they’re just too lazy to work it out naturally…

I understand that I’ve generalized this stereotype, but it’s necessary to prove a point. If you feel offended, take a step back, look at your life, see what you’re doing and prove to yourself that you don’t fit the stereotype. Another point I’d like to make is my stance on drug use – don’t be an idiot, but enjoy yourself…

Why do you think our nation likes hallucinogens? Because we feel they release something (without effort?) unknown or weird to us and the act of deciphering seems like a step towards enlightenment, but really all it happened to be was reality twisted and chained to a fence and then repeatedly bludgeoned with small colorful boulders. Look at the time, patience, self control and loyalty indigenous cultures had tied to their hallucinogens, then we had to take it, turn it into a recreational activity and make it illegal… You say not all kandy kidz take drugs? It doesn’t matter, not all goths are pissed off at the world, but they get stuck with the stereotype.

Maybe I’m getting to something here – our economy is collapsing, money is being pumped into it faster than stuffing in a turkey on Thanksgiving, jobs are being lost, helpless middle class Americans fear every day that they will be laid off – might people have to start actually producing for themselves? I mean we produce, but we produce for a bourgeois of swindling maniacs hell bent on making the most amount of money possible, regardless the amount of testicles that need be cut off in the process. The American Dream has been realized, it has been slept with, it has been shit on, and it has been laid somewhere very visable for all to see and smell. Think of the U.S as a raver, with the economy as it’s brain, and money is ecstacy. We’re turning into the E-tard that walks around and self-medicates themselves for all of our troubled times, hiding behind a facade of bubbly optimism and colorful ideals. It seems we’re digging ourselves into a war against body and mind, against old money and new money, against a failed system and the power in which that system imprisons us – I’ve recently thought of the world economy as a long, thin peice of wood, you can bend it to a certain degree, but bend it anymore and it snaps. Wait… what have I gotten myself into?

Back to the original story, they say curiosity killed the cat, but where’s the curious case of the raver found mugged in a gutter somewhere around a dilapidated part of a metropolitan city? It’s just not always necessary is all I’m saying – the whole image behind raves. Everyone has their hobbies, I’ve personally watched a friend grow from the underground, park-in-random-downtown-lot, penske-truck-taxied, abandoned-warehouse-rave, to playing legitimately organized festivals and shows. What’s this even mean? It means the drugs are wrong, but oh so right. We allow 14 and 15 year old kids into these things and they take it as an excuse to take massive amounts of X, K, L, S and D… and anything found in between, not to mention the hordes of sketchy 35+ year old’s who walk around and regardless of their state of mind, manage to creep on every girl in booty shorts and a bra…

You know what? I saw the same group again, we talked some more, and one person asked what I did, I said I review shows, and they immediately told me not to attack their community – the drowning criticism seems to have jaded them, to themselves. But who’s criticizing anyways? I just merely see a teenage wasteland carefully veiled behind a facade of colorful lights and rhythmic melodies. But hey, and take these words as knowledgable advice, there’s a razors edge between life and lesuir, try and keep ‘it’ out of your life.

There’s really no point to what I have just written, drugs arn’t going anywhere, electronic music isn’t going anywhere (thank God for that), corporate America isn’t going anywhere… so where is there to go? What have we got to look forward to? Another office job, a middle class home somewhere deep in a cookie cutter community? I feel there’s a generalized distaste for life because of the small mountainous path everyone is forced to take, and if they slip, well they better be damn ready to endure multiple fractures and concussions, ‘cuz the government ain’t setting up no safety net for the 300+ million Americans…

Maybe we should start sit-ins again, who’s down to go sit in the lobby of the LA Ticketmaster offices so nobody can get to a computer and charge a fan $10+ for getting a ticket emailed to them? I’m serious though, if you have any interest post anonymously… We can’t just sit here anymore… remember what the 60’s almost achieved yet failed because they couldn’t organize under a central ideal (they tried, but they were all shot) even though they all basically had the same ones? Well this thing you’re using doesn’t have boundries, it doesn’t have (much) censorship, and it definently doesn’t confine ideas… What will you do with the internet, the web 2.0 will have to update itself sooner or later. Let’s shoot for web 2.51 – at least we have the power in this median…

Enough with the philosophizing and criticising, you probably want to hear, or see what insued – without further ado, Audiotistic:

When I first arrived it was a good 20 minutes before the Cool Kids got on – So it figures I get in about 15 minutes after they got on, god damned lines…

Chuck Inglish and Mikey Rocks took to spitting some lakes and rivers, while the bass blasted any doubt from the tinsle town ravers expecting something less.

Then it was Talib Kweli and DJ Hi-Tek’s turn to give the audience a bit of poetical hip-hop… Talib’s got this aura of ingenius meticulation of his surroundings in which without even talking to him, he seemed really down to earth and morally aware – if his lyrics arn’t enough to emphasise this. I think it’s important to point out that FMLY is important to the man, as I saw what I think was his son and wife gathering with him backstage, giving the man his only necessary crowd and support.

Reflection Eternal

Then it was time to catch Flosstradamus in one of the indoor stages – and they killed it.

Then there was a break for some cute girls….

And then cometh the pop culture… Z-Trip mashed a house and bass heavy set with classics, finishing the set with “Bittersweet Symphony” like you’ve never heard it before…

And it was a mad dash to catch some of the Does it Offend You, Yeah? DJ set… Though only one person, it still packed the raunchy sound of distorted beats…

Then I got to take a picture of the crowd, which turned into a really nice shot…

And then there were The Roots… I still can’t believe I got to see this show, it was amazing, definitely the highlight of the night, including an extended battle of percussions from the man Questlove and F. Knuckles, a racous Tuba, from non other than Tuba Gooding Jr. and the breathless speech of Black Thought (not to say the rest of the band wasn’t amazing, there was a keyboard solo from Kamal Grey and some amazing bass and guitar from Owen Biddle and Captain Kirk Douglas, respectively).

More of everything and more in part 2, coming soon…