The other day my good friend and former neighbor gave me a ring to see if I wanted to check out the Paid Dues festival. Jeremiah is one of those guys who seem to know every band ever created. You know that band you like these days? Yeah, Jeremiah knew about them a decade ago. He’s informed like that. Anyway, given that the show included so many bands that I liked, how could I say no?
We made our way east to San Bernardino around 4. The show had been going on for a few hours already, but I didn’t have the patience for 12 hours of music and standing. I may only be 36, but I feel like that old cranky man who rocks back and forth on his porch cursing the ‘youngsters’.
The show was being held in San Bernadino at the Orange Pavillion. It was a bit of an odd location. It looked like some sort of cattle auction warehouse with backpack rappers. Next door they were having a monster truck rally, which further punctuated the juxtaposition. Throughout the festival, when I would step out to use the bathroom, I’d hear the roar of the monster trucks tearing around the dirt course. I kept expecting to hear a loud speaker echoing, “Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!”
We got in just in time to see 3 or 4 songs from Zion I and Grouch. They were good, and put on a solid performance, but nothing really stood out for me. I had heard some stuff from Grouch previously, but nothing that I could recognize
Next up was Cage. Again, same sort of deal; I knew some Cage stuff, but not enough to rock out too.
Following Cage were the Visionaries. These guys tore it up. They should have had better billing than half way down the bill. Every once in a while I see something and I can mentally put myself in their place. This was one of those times. Watching them perform, you could tell that they were living in the moment. Although that term has become a bit of a cliche, sometimes you can watch someone and understand that this is what they were born to do. Their performance was as fluid as water. I kept getting frustrated though because I didn’t know their songs enough to sing along. I would sit there bobbing my head with the consistency of a bobble-head, but when I went to open my mouth to sing along, it was an audio car crash. Good music has the power to do that, though; to make you feel like the song you have heard for the first time is your favorite song of all time.
Visionaries went off, and we decided to head to the VIP section, because we are important like that! Actually the lure of short bathroom lines, and short beer lines called to us more than anything else. After wandering around in the VIP room (which coincidentally looked like every wedding reception hall I have ever been too) we headed back to check out Mr. LIF.
Now the good was getting better. I was very familiar with Mr. LIF. Business partners of mine at Thinkspace Gallery worked at Caroline and had a healthy supply of his CD’s to jam out to at the studio, so I could actually pretend like I was that guy who knows all the lyrics to every song. Truth is that I probably looked how Steve Martin did in The Jerk when was trying to find his rhythm with his black family.
It was this point in the night that I began to realize why this was so much different than a mainstream hip-hop event. I didn’t see one pair of grills, no girls in titty shirts, no super limited exclusive uber cool shoes, no logos on the shirts of the music acts. Just solid music presented with a passion. I had lost faith in hip-hop, but as long as events like this continue, everything will be ok.
After Mr. LIF, I stepped out into the circus sideshow food court to grab some grub. Outside by one of the vendors was a freestyle battleground. This was one of the highlights of the night. Watching these guys go toe to toe spitting rhymes gets my blood moving. Maybe it is because I am incapable of putting myself out there like that, or maybe it’s because I love watching two guys on the edge of beefing with each other. I watched a few rounds, and then made a bee line to the burrito shack. If you take only one thing away from reading this nearly incoherent ramble, remember this – do not get the burrito. It was like sh_t wrapped in terrible, topped off with a little ‘f_ck you’. I ordered the carne asada burrito. What I got was a tortilla filled with 3 parts raw onion, 2 parts cilantro (which I absolutely despise), and 1 part meat. Have you ever taken a big bite of a burrito and got nothing but onion and cilantro? I have. It sucks.
We then headed back inside to check out Jean Grae. I like Jean’s stuff, but I will stick with the CDs for the future. Her DJ played songs from an ipod (a f_cking ipod?) while she drank ‘this vodka drink’. Who in the world comes to a concert to hear a DJ press play on an ipod? And when she did sing it was like a talent show with schizophrenics. One song was wannabe R-n-B, and then flipped to pseudo female gangster. How did she get billing above the Visionaries?
Next up was Brother Ali. I didn’t know anything about this guy before the show, but homeboy killed it! You know how sometimes you will be eating something that tastes really good, like chocolate cake, and you are enjoying it with each bite, and each bite is like heaven in your mouth, but then you get to the end and you are sad because it is gone? That’s what it was like with this guy; only I wasn’t eating Brother Ali. I was listening to his music. Brother Ali is a big albino guy, which is one of the reasons I like the independent shows. Even though this guy can slay half of the cats on the mic, he would never make radio play because the music industry couldn’t package him the right way. On my list of albino performers, Brother Ali leapfrogs Edgar Winter (who remembers Frankenstein????) to take the number one spot.
Following Brother Ali was Blackalicious. This was another one that I liked, but I have to say, even though they rocked, I think I would prefer to listen to them at home on the radio instead of live. Dont know why, but for me, Blackalicious has always been that group that I put on at home when I am doing something else. Like I said, they were great live; it’s just a matter of personal preference. I did enjoy the band aspect. Sort of like the modern day version of the Gap Band.
Next up was Sage Francis. This was it; this was best of the best in my book. Jeremiah had said he’d seen Sage perform two other times, but this was still the act he was most excited to check out, and soon I would see why. I can also remember my good friend Rickey Kim saying that Sage was his favorite person to interview when he was publishing the Evil Monito online mag. Sage looks like a mix between Bobcat Goldthwait , Henry Rollins and Rasputin. He opened with ‘Escape Artist’, and that was it. I saw the light. Ever since the festival I have had that song on repeat. The rest of his set was just as intense. Sage performed with the intensity of an uncaged lion. This is someone that knows how to handle his business in the studio, but hasn’t lost that edge of knowing how to perform. No shoe gazing here.
The last set was Felt, which is the tag team duo of Slug (from Atmosphere) and MURS. Felt was great, but to be honest, after Sage, I was ready to go home. Felt delivered a solid performance. We caught a few songs, but decided to head out a few songs early to avoid the cattle run of backpack clad hip-hoppers.
Paid Dues was one of the better shows I have been too. Anytime I see people out there, working, following their passion, with an unwavering belief in what it is they are doing, I get inspired. Today was one of those days I went to sleep smiling, knowing that there are others out there that will risk everything to follow the dream.
