A Hot Saturday at the Tweeter Center
By Tze Chun and Joe Posner
Which one doesn’t belong: water fights, hot and humid weather, a big awning or hip-hop? On Saturday May 12th, while many sophomore girls were waking up at the butt crack of noon to get ready for the sophomore semi, thousands of eager fans streamed into the cesspool that is Mansfield, with only one thing on their minds… well, if you count other things then I guess it’s more than one, and how do we even know what they were thinking? Well, we DO know that they were thinking about Wyclef Jean, who was playing at the Tweeter Center that day. Well, maybe they were, we’re pretty sure, almost positive.
Joe: Thu fun began as we reached the gates and a big burly man proceeded to “search” all of us.
Tze: Don’t sound all card core Joe. The only thing you got confiscated was a case of MUG root beer.
Joe: I’m not sure they can even print what was taken from you. Y’all know what’s up though.
For those of you who don’t know, the Tweeter Center is an outdoor auditorium with a roof. Kinda like a lean-to. A really big lean-to, but made with metal, and instead of leaning on something, it just sits, on cement, and there is a stage. Yeah the stage is key.
Tze: I was really surprised by the crowd. It seemed that it was made up of white teeny bopper kiddies who got no rhythm, blond college girls who only know about Wycleff from that “radio machine thingy” in their Jeep Expeditions, a few greasy old men constantly making lewd gestures during story songs, and one particularly greasy man sitting in the row behind us.
Joe: He wasn’t really sitting so much. Most of the time he just jumped into Nate Bliss’ (I) lap or shouted “WHO GOT THE WEED!!!?????????”
Tze: Joe! My ears are NOT trash cans!
Joe: Just the facts, Tze. Anyway, I kinda feel bad for the guy. I mean, he doesn’t have the advantages we’ve had in our precious little world.
Tze: What? Like weed advantages? I’m confused. Who are you? Well, I’m not a big fan of that guy just because of the fact that he emptied a gallon of water on me.
Joe: Hey! A.D.D woman, get back to the story.
Well, the show started after a little intro by JAMN 94.5’s own “Keith.” We had a good time throwing rusted scrap metal at him. It just happened to be in the seat next to us… I swear, judge. Nothin’ like a little tetanus to get the blood flowin’. Sadly, though, the crowd had no love for the opening acts. In fact, the only person who had ever heard of Mr. Lif, Akrobatik, and Ed O. G Was our good friend Nate Bliss (I), who got funny looks after he showed off his funky flowin’ style. The heat, along with the overwhelming smell of something cooking, only added to the tension of the crowd; one thing was lear—only the Haitian Sensation would do.
Joe: The only problem was, in the style of many stuck up bad musicians today, Wyclef was about an hour late.
Tze: (spitting Chex everywhere) Hey, nobody makes fun of Wyclef!!
Joe: You best stay quiet woman. I wasn’t really feeling the elevator music that played for like ten hours before the dude came on.
Tze: Yeah, the obscene quantities of Phil Collins always put me in a coma… twice.
We were provided with some quality environment during the breaks by that previously mentioned disconcertingly dirty man sitting behind Bliss Dawg. When Wyclef finally appeared, all were impressed by his crowd skills, his stage presence, and his ability to wave a shirt while rapping. Mostly known for his less artistic songs, Wyclef hurried past these old-time favorites and proceeded to compose songs on stage, cover hot tracks by the original boy band, the Jackson Five, as well as burn up the stage with forty-year-old Massachusetts resident he dragged from the audience. He delivered crowd pleasing current hits, such as “Perfect Gentlemen” and “the Kids,” causing an uproar of enthusiasm from the audience; he also performed “Find Something and Wave” which became exponentially more funny as white kids, by the hundreds, exposed their farmer tans. The socially conscious Wyclef ended his set with an original about police brutality and Amadu Diallo and succeeded in delivering an engaging show that mude up for the fat man sitting next to us that refused us access to the bathroom. If you’d like to hear more substantive information about the show, please contact Jenny Cohen (II) or Andrew Rozas (II).