Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Rock Fan Interview
Monday, March 16, 2009
Reggae at Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel: Feeling the Love

Self-consciously ambling into Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel, I had the stomach-gripping feeling that I was in a foreign place. Unfamiliar with the memes of the world I was entering, I felt like an alien tiptoeing around uncharted ground. I had attended concerts before, but never in a venue so intimate, or to see a band of which I had less prior knowledge. Shortly, after pushing through the doors I was reassured with a sight that is commonplace. A line lay ahead of me. After reveling in the familiarity of a queue, I ventured to the bathroom, another area I expected to feel comfortable. Inside the dimly lit, red-walled lavatory I got was quickly reminded that this was not the scene I was used to. A member of Lupo’s event staff was frisking and questioning man who seemed unaffected. From the staff member I overheard, “First you said you didn’t have anything and now you change your story?” The calm reply was, “I didn’t know it was in there, it could happen to anybody.” From this singular instance, I drew my first conclusion that would later be confirmed: This subculture is less than concerned with uptight legalism. This is not to say that it is devoid of morals, it is something else altogether. It is a “something else” that is revealed in performance.
Upon entering the spacious, yet welcoming room holding the performance, I noticed a great disparity in the age range. Age seemed to correlate closely with distance from the stage. Up front were the more active, college-aged kids. In the intermediate range were mostly those in their late twenties to early forties, a group that conversed amongst themselves and also danced subtly. And in the back, closest to the bar, were the eldest attendees who went up to about age 60. They seemed to have less interest in the music as they conversed with drinks in hand. The sartorial choices reflected a disinterest in fashion, at least with regards to making it distinct. Most of the younger crowd wore hoodies and jeans, some wore t-shirts depicting Bob Marley. Dreads were very popular for men and women, and facial hair was often let free despite its crudeness on some chins. Either these people did not care very much about their image, or the preferred image was to look like you didn’t care. While only apparent apathy separated the youngest age group of the scene from looking “average,” even less distinguished the older group.
The first group to perform, Tomorrow’s Bad Seeds, fused reggae and alternative in a presentation style combining high energy with cool. Giving off an air of fan appreciation, and excitement to have the opportunity to perform in front of enthused fans, their passion encouraged the group nearest the stage to participate through clapping, jumping or putting their hands in the air. During a break in one song, the lead singer took a puff of marijuana on the side of the stage. A few crowd members had beat him to it, but the volume of smoke didn’t come close to reaching the level it eventually made it to later in the show. A key moment for indication of the nature of the culture arrived when a scuffle broke out in front of the stage. Mid-song, the bassist yelled, “Hey hey hey!” into the microphone as a member of the event staff removed the fight starter. At the conclusion of the song, the lead singer explained, “Hey if you want to fight you can take that outside. We’re here to love,” inducing the crowd to release a fervent cheer. As illegal puffs of smoke peacefully floated toward the ceiling, the disturbing thing to the band on stage and fans in the crowd was a small tussle that happens daily on many street corners. Beyond that, it was that love was absent for a moment. Peace was broken for a time before being restored quickly. I got the feeling from this event, and song lyrics, that in this subculture there is a large emphasis on community and equality. Before the performance of their last song of the night, “Warrior Poet,” the lead singer encouraged all to download the song illegally because it was the song that would have the greatest political impact. Commercialism is certainly not the name of the game. Ideals are valued more than money. The California-based band was clearly well-known and well-liked by the audience.
At the end of a 45-minute break, the next act was announced by a hype man. Yvad, a singer/guitar player from Kingston, Jamaica slowly strolled out on stage in a cloud of marijuana smoke that was reminiscent of the clouds resulting from the old “banana in the tailpipe” bits from early twentieth century comedies. Sporting dreads to his elbows, aviator sunglasses and red, yellow and green wristbands with a matching headband, he gave off vibes of the style that is usually associated with reggae music. Only accompanied by his acoustic guitar, Yvad sang of the earth, peace and King Rastafara (and Rastafarianism in general). The crowd was not very responsive to his style, as they mostly just watched, and lit up more marijuana in preparation for the main act.

Like a wildfire spreading across a dehydrated field, the number of smokers in the crowd grew immensely, sending billows of smoke spouting into the air with a pungent smell. The audience chanted, “Wailers, Wailers, Wailers,” and sure enough they came out casually and laid-back. Rather than legendary performers, they looked like a small group of people that I would expect to see waiting for a bus in Kennedy Plaza. The group, once lead by the international icon Bob Marley, was now fronted by Elan Atias. Atias stuck out from the mostly black band as a white man who didn’t have dreads, but instead, a short ponytail. Thankfully for Atias, the culture associated with the music promotes acceptance. His race though, did not appear to make any difference at all, although I’m sure it would have in the context of other scenes.
To the delight of the crowd, The Wailers played the ten tracks from their 1977 album Exodus. Atias oozed with energy and the crowd followed suit, as he jumped up and down, lively raising one knee at a time as if he we pretending to ride a bike to the rhythm. The music was marked by an island feel that included horns, enchanting yet simple drums, and harmony in the vocals. The fans loved the performance, and appeared more engaged than fans could be engaged for simply liking the songs. They bought into the movement.
The words of Bob Marley popularized reggae all across the world while garnering millions of fans and influencing a movement, so who’s words could better describe the message I took from the subcultural experience? As he put it, “One love. One heart. Let’s get together and feel alright.”
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