Roger Waters at the Hollywood Bowl 6/13/07

K2-Sometimes You Gotta Earn It:

I've got a confession to make. I'm not a huge Pink Floyd fan. I know. I'm a shithead. But don't get me wrong. I think they're great and have the utmost respect for them and their place in the history of rock. But I never sat around my dorm room, shitty van, or dealer's house vegging out and got some serious Floyd on. I've heard most of their discography, but by no means am I some sort of aficionado. Don't hold it against me, okay? I'm sorry. I know the hits. I swear!

BUT you don't have to be some superfan with the Floyd triangle tattooed on your shoulder just below your long, greasy hair to know Roger Waters at the Hollywood Bowl was going to be an experience. That's why when H-man hit me up on IM last week that he had a lead on some $40 tix, I didn't hesitate to say yes to whatever it took to get our grubby little hands on them. I wanted to live the cliché, get super baked and just CHECK OUT to some FLOYD, MAN!!!! A shit ton of baby boomers, slackers, and burnouts can't be wrong.

Another confession: I've never been to the Hollywood Bowl. I know. I'm a double shithead. Especially considering it's so close to H&D HQ that we can walk there, which, it turns out, is fucking awesome. But I've lived here for only two years. ONLY two years? All right, fine. I know I should have made it out before last night. But that's life, I guess. Sue me.

The walk to the Bowl from H&D HQ is straight up hill. Up the side of a mountain actually. There was potential for a treacherous trek. And upon receiving our tickets, our destination, the section our seats were in, loomed. For fate had delivered us into section K2. That's right K fucking 2!!!!! Do you know how many people we've lost attempting to climb K2? A bunch. Preparation was required. And while we should have posted an ad for a sherpa on Craigslist, we settled for our friend Arron hitting the store for some baked good nourishment. After we ingested half of said nourishment, a debate over whether or not to bring alcohol meandered on for what seemed like forever without resolution. Finally, we decided, fuck it, we'll just get a beer or two at the Bowl. Then, we were off to see what destiny had in store for us as we climbed to the top of our own personal Himalayan peak.

The Walk There:

Relatively brisk. There was a decent crowd of people all heading toward the Bowl from Hollywood on Highland, which I'm sure is the norm. But there was a point when I realized this huge crowd around me is heading to the same place I am. That point was when I realized every one around me was dressed like they were going to a Pink Floyd concert. Concert T's, polos, Hawaiian shirts, one dude had on gray tank top, T's with dragons/wizards/etc. on them, a lot of nerdy glasses, long hair on both the young and old, bad jeans, expensive jeans, the good looking, the ugly, and a shit load of ponytails were all on display as we made our way up Highland. It was eclectic to say the least. I heard a rash of hilarious half conversations from the people around us. I fail to remember these convos. (Due to a possible side effect of our nourishment, which we finished as we entered the bowl area.)

The Bowl:



Okay, as a Hollywood Bowl virgin, I was SHOCKED at the fucking cattle call that was simply entering the concert area. There was a huge crowd entering 5-8 lanes of ticket scanners to get into the joint. I'm not even in my car, and I'm in gridlock traffic. Bullshit. It was like some end times scenario. Like people trying to make it to the safety boats to get off the sinking ship. It was awkward. Luckily, it was only a ten minute torture session and not a total buzz kill. I wasn't going to let it bring me down. And I was able to forgive the Bowl a little thanks to how helpful the ushers were. And they were all over the place. Many were older teenage kids probably working their summer job. Some were like magicians with how fast they pulled out people's seat locations. Requests were coming rapid fire. "F3!" "D2!" "K2!" the crowd yelled. "Five aisles on right, four aisles on left, ten aisles on left!" this one, on the ball usher fired back. So, ours were the seats ten aisles on the left. Rows 22 and 23. At the top of the section. Oh well. I'm not here to complain about my seats. For $40, they were perfect. I got a nice view of the show, the fog, the crowd, the screen behind the band, the pig balloon, the whole thing. Pretty much all I wanted out of the experience. If I couldn't be in front row-ish.



The Show:









**For all you Pink Floyd purists, I've already conveyed I don't know the names of every Pink Floyd song. So you're not going to get a detailed track list here.***

After finding our seats, we were confident that we had enough time to get a beer before the start of the show. Then, while we were in the rather formidable line for the Heineken booth, the crowd started cheering. We were scared. Should we go back? Is the beer worth missing part of the show? Was that a bullshit cheer for the sake of a cheer because some guitar tech came out? We bet on the guitar tech. And we were right. Shortly after we returned with our frosty refreshment, an I'm-trying-to-make-decrepit-badass Roger Waters took the stage. Then, rocked our shit. He opened the show with songs from the Wall and worked in a few solo joints as well. Everyone was stoked. The visuals on the screen behind the band were everything you would want. Space, lasers, pills, war, fire, school stuff. Seriously, they were top notch. With the music, the visuals, the baked goods, my mind was all over the place. I had succeeded. I had checked out. And then Roger Waters finished a song and said something like, "Okay, we're gonna take a fifteen minute break. A full fifteen minutes. And then we're gonna come back out and do Dark Side of the Moon."

Oh. Shit.

After the intermission, dude came out and straight up played the shit out of Dark Side. It was incredible. I know it's only Roger Waters, but his band is SICK!! It was the type of show where, suddenly, there'd be a spotlight on the guitarist and he'd rip into a kick ass guitar solo. Plus, some sweet soul sister back up singers would wail on some songs. More great visuals as well. A comic book, rainbow ribbon, astronauts, huge brain asteroids. Then, at the top of the Bowl, a giant, graffiti covered pig balloon was dropped down over everyone's heads. The camera flashes this balloon caused were insane. Even the guy with the shittiest cell phone cam who knows his pics are going to suck was snapping away. Guys were standing in the aisles with their hands up and waving like some sort of religious stooges. People were super stoked again. There was a palpable feeling of satisfaction. It was nice.

They finished Dark Side and did the whole pretending we're finished, but really prepping the show stopping encore bit and then came back out and brought down the house with "Another Brick in the Wall" and "Comfortably Numb." Visuals were great again including a slow zoom out of a creepy loner dude during "Comfortably Numb." For any casual fan, like myself, Roger Waters delivered the goods. I don't know how you could be disappointed with this show even if it's not Pink Floyd. Unless you're a total music fag.





Last Thoughts:

Leaving the Bowl was not the chore it was to get in. Except that we almost walked down the tunnel to the train and had to cut across foot traffic to step over the railing to the street. We were also reminded of how lucky we were to be able to walk when we passed all the parking lots people were trying to get out of. Some people were buried deep. They were not going to get out for hours probably. And they probably paid $20 for those spots. Lame.

And when I put my head down last night, I was glad I was no longer a Hollywood Bowl virgin. In fact, I think I actually saw my cherry pop in front of me during the show. Trippy, man.



The Night by The Numbers:

Cost of brownies: 3 @ $27.50 a piece
Cost of tix: $40
Cost of Heineken: $8.50
Number of Heinekens H-Man, our friend Arron, and I drank: 3
Rating of Hottest Girl I saw: 9
Percentage of people stoned at the show: 100