The second installment in our ongoing series of fond memories and hazy analysis from Bonnaroo 2010 by music and culture guru Keith Kozel, posted not for their timeliness (obviously), but because if the internet is the new historical record, then by god, we're going to have a say in how the future remembers things...
Day 2: It's just before 9:00am. I notice that outside of the comedy tent there were two long lines formed already. These are the lines for Conan O'Brien's "Legaly Prohibited From Being Funny On Television Tour." A woman in khakis and neck badges asked the gathering crowd to form a third line if we were waiting for tickets to Conan's show, which is scheduled for 1:00 pm that afternoon. It's obvious that as a result of the fiasco of NBC's late show wars, Conan is more popular than ever. I myself have fallen to the charm of Mr. O'Brien's plight - rooting for the underdog. It's a modern day David and Goliath story with the part of lil Davey played by an unassuming, awkward ex-comedy writer whose sense of humor and humility appeal to my nerdy, vulnerable anti-authoritarian side. Dork with a penchant for self deprication and absurd mockery makes it big, but proves he's still human after all.
After about an hour of waiting patiently in line, a random act of chaos ensued and the lines collapsed on themselves, with patrons crowding up against the gates to be closest. Still, one segment of line remained orderly; the oldest segment of the snaking queue. Some people in this particular line had been waiting since 6:00am and were now among the folks farthest from the entry.
It seemed Bonnaroo organizers vastly underestimated the popularity of Conan. The only solution was to give everyone in line a voucher for the show. We were then free to wander away and return closer to showtime or join one of two extremely long lines and wait again guaranteeing us a better chance of an ultimate admission. I finally made it inside the 1800 capacity Comedy Tent. I was one of the last to enter, but I got a great, central seat. As soon as I sat down Summer and John from Baroness saw me and called me out. I tried to tell them what a great set they had played, but when the lights went down the cheers were deafening.
Conan's band came out first. "The Legally Prohibited Band" consisted of Ronnie Gutierrez on drums, Scott Healy on keyboards, Mike Merritt on Bass, Mark Pender on trumpet, Jerry Vivino on Sax and the legendary La Bamba (Richie Rosenberg) on trombone. They hyped up the audience with New Orleans style jazz theatrics, running through the audience playing Curtis Mayfield's "Move On Up" and hamming it up. The crowd was on its feet, dancing and hyped, but fell quiet as a film began with the words "two months ago". A destitute, long haired and long bearded O'Brien lay amongst empty beer bottles and pizza boxes. A montage of hilarious, sad Conan bits played to the tune of "All By Myself"
Then it all turns around with a phone call tour offer which segued into another montage of Coco getting in shape and tearing off his fat suit while running on a treadmill.
The crowd is amped up again, this time to a frenzied pitch as we heard and yelled along with his trademark intro... " Ladies and Gentlemen, Co-Naan O...Briiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaan! The audience was ferocious with glee. Conan is at the height of fame. He appeared excited, humbled and amused by the outpouring.
Dressed casually and sporting a beard, Conan worked the room with practiced ease. Having seen him every night before sleep, its like seeing an old friend - one who has no idea who we are but is happy to pass the time with us by making site specific jokes and wicked observations; an old friend who knows that if he can just keep us entertained for 90 minutes we might just fall asleep without giving him a sweaty shirtless patchouli smelling hug.
He kept the laughs coming, mostly with jokes about his current legal plight, evoking roars of mirth and boos of contempt for those who put him in this situation. He showed a film of himself lampooning an unnammed television executive, went through the psychic stages of loss experienced by anyone who loses a late night television show (shouts out to Arsenio Hall), he showcased one of his writers, and Triumph the insult comic dog (who phoned it in with puposefully bad bonnaroo specific overdubs).
Conan peppered the show with musical numbers, indulging in his long time hobby of kicking ass on the guitar. They even brought out a giant rock festival prop, The Bat from Meatloaf's "Bat Out of Hell" tour. Bouyed up by the support grown from his very public ex-communication from broadcast media Conan seemed to know how lucky he was to have been granted this position in life. I'll always remember his farewell speech on NBC, "Please do not be cynical... if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen!"
Many people were indifferent to Conan O'Brien's comedy and media presence when he was on television, but when his fight with NBC became public he showed his true colors as a down to earth solid and classy guy. I've always been a huge fan, but now it seems, so is the rest of the world. I find this to be 100% Awesome!!! Conan closed his set with an over the top rendition of The Band's "The Weight".
He plunged into his adoring audience, shaking hands, taking pictures, giving hugs to sweaty freaks. Hell, I even got a high five from him! Afterwards I got a photo op with La Bamba. This could prove to be my Bonnaroo highlight and I had barely gotten started.
