shifter

You know when you wake up, and instantly you're in a good mood? This was one of those days. It was also one of those days where I didn't beat the rest of the house to the waking world, and thus was forcibly kicked into it by Kelly screaming that she was a renegade of funk. Totally off-key. So I got up and did my morning thing, cranked Bombtrack on the stereo and prepared for the day.

We aimed to hit Rock the Bells at 2pm, in time to rock up for Public Enemy, Cypress Hill, the Wu Tang Clan and most importantly, Rage Against the Machine. Having not planned transportation all that well we were a little off and rocked up at the start of Public Enemy's set. On the way, I'd mentioned to Kel that it'd be awesome if they got a guitarist like Tom Morello to play Bring the Noise with them. Well, the first words I heard were "We'd like to get our special friend, Scott Ian from Anthrax, up here". That was it. I was stunned. I took some quick pictures then rushed to the front.

PE were awesome, massive classics (Fight the Power anyone?), massive improv, massive show. Next up was Cypress Hill with their extremely large blow up Buddha on stage. I've never been a big fan, I've never really been a smoker, but I think all the second hand gangja smoke got to me and I had a great time. Again Cypress pulled out all the old school tracks, and finished off with Rock Superstar featuring the bassist from System of a Down.

Next up was Wu Tang, and I've never conciously heard a Wu Tang track so I decided it was time for dinner. I found Kel and Mick and we chowed down on some horrible concert food, and sat back to watch Wu Tang finish up. Which they did, and even flipped out Da Rockwilder to do so, the only track I recognised.

Next up was Rage. Well actually no. Next was 60,000 people waiting for Rage to take the stage while listening to Bob Marley's greatest hits. Kelly was getting a bit freaked by the huge guys in the crowd near us, so we spent a while moving before she found a spot she was comfortable with. The set up time took ages, and Bob Marley came round for a second spin. Some guy couldn't take it any more and snapped: "BOB NARLEY! ARRRGH!! I FUCKING HATE THIS SHIT, SOMEBODY BREAK THIS CD". The crowd around us loved it and clapped and laughed along with each other.

And then it happened. Zach, Tom, Timmy C, and Brad hit the stage. The sound was fantastic and the band was very tight as they grooved through things like Bombtrack, Sleep Now in the Fire, Take the Power Back, Bulls on Parade and of course opening the whole set up with People of the Sun.

During this time a large black man just charged through the crowd basically pushing everyone out of the way. It was fucking rude and it seemed like he'd forgotten he only liked hip hop, and decided to finally get the fuck out. Yeah I know I'm making racial generalisations, but by the look on everyone else's face around me they were thinking the same.

The band smashed through all of the classics and finished up with Wake Up, in which Zach took time out to lecture about government and getting rid of Bush's corruption, before the band belted back into the final bars of the song imploring us, the crowd, to wake up to the lies.

Somewhere in the middle of this, the large black man charged through again. This time we knew why. In tow was none other than Flavour Flav, who was hitching a ride, with his entourage, through the crowd following their bouncer. Flav's gold teeth and infectious grin lifted everyone's mood; it was great to see a guy like that taking the time to mix it with the rest of us.

And so the stage went black. And the crowd was nuts, screaming for an encore, which in due time happened. The Ghost of Tom Joad led out the encore, which moved swiftly into Freedom and by that time we all knew there one thing left. Let me tell you, there is nothing you'll ever hear like 60,000 people chanting "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me". Killing in the Name was unbelievable. And then it was over. Wrapped in the euphoria of the night, seeing RATM, PE with Scott Ian, and Flav charging through the crowd, Mick, Kel and I made our way home.

I started this day out with one thing in mind. To find the City Lights book store. I could have planned this well and taken a map, or even written down the address, but in the spirit of adventure, and forgetfullness, I did neither.

Hopping off the ferry I hit the embarcadero, and asked a local who said it was on Columbus. That was a start. I had no idea where columbus was, but hey. Whatever man. So I set off down Broadway. It sounded pretty cool, and had a lot of classy establishments along the way. Since I was on a mission, I had no time to stop and peruse their wares. I found Columbus intersecting with Broadway, so I took a left and headed down. Instinct told me to stop, and I looked around. There, 150m back the way I came on the corner of Broadway and Columbus was the fabled destination.

The store was huge, and I was basically invited to grab a book, sit down, and read a bit. SO I did, and chose something outside of my normal genre, a love story. Not some of that Mills and Boone crap, but a noval entitled Tolstoy Lied by some chick named Rachel Kadish. It was actually pretty interesting especially the point of view of an academic woman that the story was told from. I ended up buying the book and a Palahniuk I saw lying around.

Next on the agenda was lunch, and finding myself in little Italy again, I hit up a pasta restaurant and dug into some ravioli. Some locals were talking and chatting loudly in Italian there and after being asked whether I understood them, I was then asked to join the three for a few glasses of the vino. Ahh Italians. They love to talk, about anything and anyone. Conversations ranged from women, to Stalin, to the San Francisco Giants and Barry Bonds. It was a good lunch, so I tipped the waiter well and was on my way.

The rest of the day I spent hiking around the city just drinking in the surrounds, the buildings, the architecture. I almost got run over again by looking right instead of left, and saw an accident on the way to getting a Jamba Juice. Those fellows were not happy campers.

I finished of the day just hanging out in my stomping ground of Yerba Buena gardens. Good times.