So let's talk a little more about that Prince show, shall we?
This year for the big-name artists hitting SXSW, badgeholders were entitled to enter a ticket lottery. Ticket lottery winners were notified approximately 2 days prior to the show and the winner generally received 1 non-transferable ticket. Lotteries this year included shows like Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at Stubbs, the Sound City Players at Stubbs, Depeche Mode at Brazos Hall, the Prince show at La Zona Rosa, and apparently Justin Timberlake's surprise Myspace show that was added at the last minute. Thursday afternoon my husband received a notification that he had won a ticket to the Depeche Mode show on Friday night.
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I'm not a huge Depeche Mode fan, and attending that would have meant missing Brendan's Readymade Showcase, Eric Burdon and Reignwolf (!) so I was cool with it. Imagine my surprise when later that day I opened my email to see 'Winner! Prince!' in a subject line! I stopped short for a second. What are the chances that we would each be picked for a ticket lottery win? Very slim, I'll tell you.
As you can imagine, I was elated with the Prince ticket win. The best words of the email? '
You are guaranteed entry - there is no reason to rush. Doors open at 9:00 PM.' Fan-flipping-tastic. My mind immediately went to 'what should I wear?' Later I realized that it doesn't matter
what you are wearing to a Prince show when he changes his outfit four times during the performance. Nothing can really compete with that.
After staying out until the wee hours on Thursday night, Friday morning found me forcing myself from the bed at the ungodly hour of 9am to take the shuttle downtown to pick up my resplendent purple wristband
(upon which I immediately loaded back up on said shuttle, went back to my hotel and proceeded to sleep for another four hours- seriously? pick up's only between 10am-noon?). Saturday saw us attending several shows in the afternoon, including Hacienda and Willy Moon. Made our way over to La Zona Rosa, a small warehouse of a place on more of a private/dead-end intersection at Fourth and Nueces about 8'o'clock to find a line of fellow wristband holders that stretched almost entirely around the block. Shit. I should have got here earlier. Guaranteed entry, though, right? Rumors circulate the club only holds 300 people. Staff assure as we'll get in. Several folks walk the line offering upwards of $500 for a wristband. Sorry folks, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is worth more than $500. Inside, I later meet two people who paid $550 for each of their wristbands. Crazy. I'm even more thankful to have won mine.
Two hours later, I finally made my way to the front of the building to read a sign announcing A TRIBE CALLED QUEST! as the opening band. WHAT????
The night becomes more epic. Finally inside, b-line to bathroom and bar. No where to stand. Club holds more people than I thought it would, than I had heard it would (roughly 1200). I should have got there earlier. No one will give on their spot. No way to finagle myself closer to the stage. Find a spot directly behind the massively long soundboard with actually a better view of the entire stage than on either side of it, so I stake my claim and we wait. And wait. I realize my chances for making it to the BP Fallon and the Bandits midnight show is slim to none and text Clint to make sure and represent for us. At 11'o'clock the lights dim and Tribe takes the stage. My impression of the crowd is that half of them were out of their mind (like me) at seeing Tribe on the stage, the other half was anxious, they want Prince, they don't really know this band on stage that harkens back to the emergence of rap. Tribe calls us out on it, makes some references to their long-standing career, maybe they should go- come on, Austin! participate! For the most part, the crowd tries to give it back. But we all know what we're here for. Q-Tip respectfully wipes off the stage for Prince after their sweat-inducing set.
The crowd begins to buzz. An announcement is made regarding No Cell Phones/ No Photography- Violators will be removed. The fervor ensues. And finally The Man takes the stage.
Complete with a shimmering scepter. And a 22-piece band. Half of which was made up by the horn section, the other half consisting of soulful back up singers, a female guitar player who was spot-on for the most memorable of Prince riffs and various other suit-clad members. His second song of the night started off with a bang, literally, as confetti and streamers sprayed into the air accompanied by the intro to '1999'. Oh, it was on now. Backed by one of the most synchronized, magnificent light shows I've ever seen, one song gave way to another and before I knew it, Prince was standing before us all belting out 'Purple Rain', prompting us to sing along with him. Magical. I've watched this guy since I was a bitty girl, I had to pinch myself that this was happening. And then he was gone, along with his band. We chanted, we stomped- PRINCE!!!! One by one, the band returns, Prince emerges and continues on- an event we would see repeated again and again as the show wore on. His set was creative mix featuring a few well-known hits, a few covers (including Michael Jackson's 'Don't Stop til You Get Enough'), but more heavily focused on his perhaps lesser known and funkier material. About the third encore in, it's time for another restroom break- me, not Prince. I snake my way through the enraptured crowd and catch my breath. What a night. I can't believe I'm really there.
Hours later, physically exhausted from standing for so long, Prince is done and so am I. It's time to go home. I forge my way back to the convention center to find a line a mile long waiting for the shuttle. It's late. I snarf my leftover sandwich Clint's been carting around in our pack. For the past seven hours he's preoccupied himself with BP's show,
the Smashing Pumpkins and lord knows what else. SXSW is winding down. As always, we look at each other and say, 'I don't know if I can do this again'. On the shuttle ride to the hotel we discuss booking our room for next year. Yes, we're suckers. How could you not be? It's just too much fun!
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The night becomes more epic. Finally inside, b-line to bathroom and bar. No where to stand. Club holds more people than I thought it would, than I had heard it would (roughly 1200). I should have got there earlier. No one will give on their spot. No way to finagle myself closer to the stage. Find a spot directly behind the massively long soundboard with actually a better view of the entire stage than on either side of it, so I stake my claim and we wait. And wait. I realize my chances for making it to the BP Fallon and the Bandits midnight show is slim to none and text Clint to make sure and represent for us. At 11'o'clock the lights dim and Tribe takes the stage. My impression of the crowd is that half of them were out of their mind (like me) at seeing Tribe on the stage, the other half was anxious, they want Prince, they don't really know this band on stage that harkens back to the emergence of rap. Tribe calls us out on it, makes some references to their long-standing career, maybe they should go- come on, Austin! participate! For the most part, the crowd tries to give it back. But we all know what we're here for. Q-Tip respectfully wipes off the stage for Prince after their sweat-inducing set.
the Smashing Pumpkins and lord knows what else. SXSW is winding down. As always, we look at each other and say, 'I don't know if I can do this again'. On the shuttle ride to the hotel we discuss booking our room for next year. Yes, we're suckers. How could you not be? It's just too much fun!
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