Lazer

The last Lazer show of 2007 is destined to be like Woodstock—so many more people will claim to have been there than were actually present. And sure you could just lie to your grandkids and say you were there; you can even probably bluff your way through reciting a fake...

By Jeremy Martin

September 6, 2007

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The last Lazer show of 2007 is destined to be like Woodstock—so many more people will claim to have been there than were actually present. And sure you could just lie to your grandkids and say you were there; you can even probably bluff your way through reciting a fake set list. Maybe "Dance for Racism" is a safe bet or "M-F-F-L (Maverickz Fan for Life)," and unlike the Summer of Love, Martin Scorsese probably won't be there with a team of camera-toting NYU film kids to cinematically call your bluff. But you're only cheating yourself. What goes down Saturday when the Rhinelandian hip-hop/techno explosion that is Lazer performs corrective surgery on the eardrums of an entire skating rink of fans and roller girls can only be experienced firsthand. It's actually more like the Vietnam War: You can't really fake experiencing this meeting of roller derby jammers and banana-hammocked pseudo-Third Worlders. Something like this changes you in a nearly imperceptible way, and somewhere in their subconscious, your grandkids will know you're full of shit. But unlike Vietnam, nothing like this will ever happen again in human existence. At least for a few months.

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