Green Cheese: Two Mondays ago, Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre played host to a teen-friendly bill the likes of which probably won’t be matched this concert season. You had the omnipresent Jimmy Eat World, whose song “The Middle” is played by modern rock radio at the middle of the day, the beginning, the end, and all places in between, Blink 182, the idiot savants of post Green-Day pop punk, and the grandfathers themselves, Billie Joe Armstrong and Green Day. Arriving at the beginning of Green Day’s set, I first set out to locate a few frosty beverages. Given that about a quarter of the audience was wearing straight-edge T-shirts and that most others were just recently enjoying the privilege of driving, beer lines were mercifully short. Verizon appears to have predicted this, and raised prices accordingly. It seems like every show I go to, the beer prices rise at least a dollar. Sometimes between sets! After parading my way through the Blink 182 merchandise tents, I made my way to the grass. Rather, the lawn. Immediately, two security guards rushed past yelling into walkie-talkies (Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole! Someone’s smoking a cigarette in reserved seating!), nearly causing me to spill my drink. For anyone who has seen Green Day in the past, Green Day Mach II is a different beast entirely. The set was filled with more tricks than Wilkinson Boulevard on a Saturday night: Flash pots, Billie Joe exhorting the crowd to wave their arms, hip-hop style; breaking every song down into a mini-epic, needed or not, and even inviting three kids up onto the stage to play a Green Day song while the band simply sang along. Did I forget the man in the chicken costume and the mariachi band? (Wish I was only kidding.) I caught about half of Blink’s set, a whodathunkit pretty-darn-good hardcore punk show (compared to the band before them, that is) before leaving a bit early, as I didn’t want to get caught up in the inevitable gridlock when everyone’s mom came to pick them up. Plus, I didn’t have $20 for another beer.
Days of Thunder: Speed Street = Free Stuff. You name it: mini-lunchboxes, popcorn, gratis copies of Creative Loafing, it’s all there. Not to mention the music. Frankly, most of the music was a bit dodgy at best, and downright horrendous at worst, but it was free. People put up will all manner of stuff when shit is free. Wonder why NASCAR is one of the biggest sports going? They take care of their fans, and give them free stuff. Granted, it’s usually a bunch of junk, but it makes people think the sport (yes, I said it) cares for them. That said, after hearing Steppenwolf doing a song off “of our 1996 album” (enough said), I was ready to swear off the sheet metal forever. Redemption, however, came in the form of an animal — shape of, a Possum (no Gleek jokes, please). Yes, George Jones, one of the king badasses in country music history, took over at the center of Trade and Tryon, and wowed the appreciative crowd with drinking song after breakup ballad after drinking song. He also did drinking songs about breaking up, and songs about breaking up with drinking. He also did the odd song about his Pa, and a patriotic song about Vietnam called “50,000 Names” that bests Lee Greenwood by the end of the first verse. Seems everyone there knew all the words, which seemed to please His Possumness. “It’s nice to play in front of folks that enjoy real country music,” he stated after about every third song. And that hair, a soft metallic waterfall that manages to look ridiculous and resplendent at the same time. Perhaps my friend said it best: “If Ray Wooldridge had hair like that, the Hornets would still be in Charlotte.” Giving away stuff free wouldn’t hurt either. *
This article appears in May 29 – Jun 4, 2002.
