Lucky Number 7
August 7, Lokerse Feesten 09
Are you superstitous? Do you believe in destiny and lady fortune?
Do you kiss the dices before you roll em over the table?
Do you read your horoscopes religiously? Are you scared of the black craw sitting on your porch?
Are you worried on a friday the 13th? Does the full moon makes you sleepless?
Do you believe in numbers…..?
I believe in the number 7. It made me do it.
One year ago, on august 7th, my birthday, I decided to give myself a birthday gift and asked the universe for a Polaroid picture from Pharrell Williams.
The effort it took to get that picture and the big fight with the huss and the fuss of an artist, a star so hard to reach, triggered me.
The 7th of august I decided to create this little blog, with little means and a lot of love.
It took me to different places, new faces. It made me learn and it fed my craving desire for more knowledge about the music I loved the most.
It made me cry out of despair and it made me mad because it didn’t always give me what I wanted.
Sometimes it took away my sleep and it ate away my time.
So, now, exactly a year later I am on the exact same spot where it al started: Lokerse Feesten 09.
The main dish on my birthday menu was CYPRESS HILL.
Just like last year, I managed to get a backstage pass via a friend of mine. Just like last year the artist-village was right next to the press/backstage/vip area.
Was it destined to be like that, or was it just luck?
I read on B Real’s twitter that the band was in Belgium ànd that a fresh herb package was delivered, which obviously made them happy and at ease, so they were excited to go on stage.
Cypress Hill always fascinated me. The raw lyrics soothed with some Latino melodies to round off the sharp edges.
B Real nasal rhymes leaving his mouth like a ninja swings his swastikas towards the enemy.
Fast, accurate, lethal and aesthetic.
Cypress Hill makes me mesmerize of a world I probably never live to see. It makes me think of the suburbs in LA and tattooed Latino men dressed in a wife beater, beige shorts and perfect white socks pulled straight up to the ankle and (parodied) gangster stories.
The combination of guitars, horns, Eric Bobo’s percussion skills mostly produced by the notorious producer Muggs makes the band truly original in hip hop music.
Ofcourse I am a lover of all the songs devoted to the love of drugs and alcohol. (Dr Greenthumb, So High & Tequila Sunrise)
That’s my dark side calling.
So, needless to say that snapping B REAL, SEN DOG and ERIC BOBO was high on my birthday list.
When I arrived at the backstage area I noticed some tattooed American entourage running here and there, so I knew they were definitely present.
The JEUGD VAN TEGENWOORDIG where headlining just before Cypress Hill. Me and Jules decided the check out the gig and left the backstage area.
While I was watching the JVT, I felt restless. I wondered why I was standing there in the crowd. I’ve seen the band a few times now and for some reason I felt
that I shouldn’t be there because I might miss out on something.
Minutes past and I just could not enjoy the concert, people were fainting right next to me, I was standing on a aw full busy spot, and I don’t know…
I just felt that I was not supposed to be there.
I told Jules that we should go and check out the perimeter just in case.
Jules acted surprised and signed that we had more than 30 minutes before the JVT ended their set.
I sticked to my feeling and decided to go back backstage.
When I entered the backstage area, there was nobody to be seen. The place was empty, since everybody was checking out the JVT.
But, I was right to listen to my instincts, because all of sudden Cypress Hill popped out of the artist village. Relaxed and chill.
Apparently they agreed to do some interviews and a few press meetings and since the backstage was empty this appeared the right time for them to do that.
I waited out the right moment to approach them. After all, I am not a licensed journalist nor a professional photographer so I have to make sure I don’t
step on anybody’s toes since they have a certain privilege in time.
So in between greetings and interviews I slipped next to Sen Dogg, shook his hand and introduced myself.
Again, because I was so nervous, English was leaving my mouth in a very odd way. Stuttering is not sexy.
Sen Dogg was polite, cooperative and agreed to pose for me.
He asked me: “Maybe I should give you some ghetto gangsta shit?”
I nodded affirmative and started to count down:
3.2.1….flashing lights. Snap. Bingo.
The same events happened with B Real in the exact same order.
Shake hands. Introduction. Agreement.
I could not help myself and I hear “Gosh, you are very..big” leaving my mouth. He nodded and smiled.
When I suggested he would place himself against the same blue covered fence I realised how big he really was, since there was some sky in the frame that wasn’t
in Sen Doggs Polaroid, because, he is a lot smaller than B Real.
So, I had to reframe and aim my Polaroid much closer towards him.
3.2.1. flashing lights. Snap Bingo.
By the time I wanted to ask Erik Bobo for a picture they already left for other interviews and I missed my chance on that one.
Cypress Hill will soon release a new album, so maybe I might have another chance.
And Muggs.., oh well…he might remember me..or not. :-)
–> (Read the ‘Diane, Die An ?’ story with Rahzel)
And that was it. I felt that there was no need to explain the project, they were acting professionally and the atmosphere did not lead to any more conversation.
So I did not push my luck and did what I came to do.
From august the 7th, 2008 ’till august the 7th 2009 I sometimes got lucky and something got nothing.
In 365 days I started with NERD and ended with Cypress Hill.
I want to thank all the people who supported me with this little blog. (thank you CYMO)
I want to kiss all the people who encouraged me to continue. (friends, family and lovers)
I want to hug all my readers national and international for reading my mostly (long) stories on a white screen and spending some of that precious time we have in life on this little blog.
I want to thank that journalist that spilled some ink from his pen to write that nice story about the blog and put it in the newspaper (NIEUWSBLAD)
I want to thank that magazine that posted my blog on their website when I just started. (HUMO)
And last but not least I want to thank my little P.I.C, Jules, for àlways having my back.
Because just like those other Polaroid top-listers might say: