Monday, August 20, 2012

The Ramones "I Wanna Be Sedated"

Let's get one thing straight---I was not a Punk kid.

My musical tastes in high school were pretty straightforward.  There were kids in my school who listened to Punk Rock, but I was never that Cool/Uncool.

I DID discover the music many years later, and fell in love with the genre.  But again, I was never a Punk kid.

If I went to a Punk show, I was the square in an Izod and Chuck Taylors.  I never rode a skateboard, got a tattoo, had a Mohawk or blue hair, pierced anything, owned a pair of Doc Martens or adopted anything that would have identified me as someone who was "into Punk."

If there were an identity I had adopted, it was "into Square."

But I loved the music.

And if this was my last chance to see The Ramones, you're damn straight that I was going to get as close to the stage as possible.

This was Lollapalooza 1995.  I'd already seen Satchel and Jonny Polonsky and Soul Coughing.  And later that night, I'd get my first look at Rage Against The Machine.

But right now, I was all about The Ramones.

Lollapalooza's closest pass to my home in Virginia, was in a large field outside of Knoxville, Tennessee.  And as the last band was clearing the stage, I wormed my way, slowly, toward the stage.

I'd left all my friends behind me.  I don't think they had any interest in getting anywhere near the mosh pit.

I didn't really have an interest in that, either.  MY goal was to get beyond the mosh pit.

From 5 feet out from the stage, to 40 or 50 feet out, was a swirling vortex of sweaty meatheads, circling, circling, slamming their bodies into the persons closest to them, feeding off each other's adrenaline.

But between the pit and the stage, was a small pile of folks pressed again the retaining fence, trying to get their best look at The Ramones.

The band had announced that they were breaking up, and a few gigs on Lollapalooza were part of the farewell tour.

So that was my plan, to wedge myself in that group, stay out of the pit, and soak up the legendary band.

Easier said than done.

The folks who'd been there all day, had secured their position up front.  There was another layer of folks sandwiched right behind them.  So the closest I could get to the stage, was 3 deep.

Which doesn't sound that bad, except that we, the third layer, were the barrier between the people up front and the mosh pit behind.

So try as I might to watch Joey and Johnny's every move, I had to constantly swivel my head around to make sure I wasn't about to be crushed from behind by thundering bags of meat and bones.

I'll say a little bit about the show . . .

They were awesome.  Everything that you'd want The Ramones to be. Funny/serious.  Dramatic/stripped down.  And so many of the artists playing that day, particularly the guys from Rancid, stood side stage, watching in rapt attention.

And I was going crazy.  You know, in my Wonder Bread kind of way.  Jumping up and down and singing along to "I Wanna Be Sedated."

When BAM!

Some body from the pit came flying into me, knocking me off my balance, knocking me forward.

And I, in turn went flying into the guy in front of me, knocking him off his balance.

This was the moment.  The moment when time stopped.  When the music stopped.  When the pit stopped.  When there was only me, and this guy.

This guy was big.  Bigger than me.  A punk.  Head, part shaved, part spiked.  Heavy leather jacket on a 90+ degree day.  Snarl on his face.  Clearly over "The Pit" and the idiots in it.  There to witness The Ramones.

And in this moment, we looked at each other, for a looong few seconds.  A guy who looked like a true Punk (him), and a guy who looked like the epitome of suburban poseur (me).  I was still on the ground, not sure if I should get up.  He had regained his balance, standing over me.

I fully expected a meaty paw-punch to be delivered to my face, at any second.

He grabbed me by the sides.  Lifted me to my feet.  And leaned his face right into my, smiled and screamed:

"BAM-BAM-BAM-BAH, BE-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAH, IWANNABESEDATEDDDDDD!!!"

I laughed, and jumped back into the groove of the music.

I wasn't a Punk, but I belonged there I guess.  And accepting me into his moment, was the most Punk Rock thing he could have done.


Hear the song on Youtube.

No comments:

Post a Comment