It was supposed to be perfect. It was my birthday week and I had friends flying into D.C. so that we could go see Radiohead live at Nissan Pavilion in Bristow, Virginia. The concert was Sunday, May 11 and I had Monday off. Nothing could go wrong…until Mother Nature stepped in. Cell phone rings. “Are you guys even still going?†Claudia asks cautiously as I maneuver my way around the grocery store picking up last-minute tailgating items. “Of course we’re still going,†I say, somewhat irritated at the mere suggestion of skipping out. Sure, I had heard rumors of some rain, but I was fully prepared with my hooded sweatshirt—it was May!
Flash-forward two hours. We’re situated in lot B. Our other friends are over in lot A. No one in my car wants to get out. People in the cars around us are not getting out. “But Leikin flew here from Cleveland,†I plead, trying to motivate my peers. We finally manage to open the trunk door of Josh’s Toyota 4Runner. We’re happier once the beers start flowing, but it’s imperative to stay underneath the trunk door unless your drink of choice happens to be half Coors Light/half acid rain. It was at this point that things began to get delusional, yet laughable.
“Oh my God! It is seriously raining harder now,†Amber stammers as we watch the rain grow thicker and hear the pounding on the roof grow louder. Another concertgoer runs over to our car. “Can I make a quick call under here?†Yes, it was THAT bad. I begin to think about different products that would make the scenario easier. That’s the beauty of the direct response industry, solving a common problem that a consumer doesn’t typically think about. There was an extreme need for ponchos. What about an invention to protect your beer from the rain so you could still enjoy it? I couldn’t help but remember the umbrella hat I saw last September at ERA’s annual convention. I kind of mocked it then, but I would love having it right now! As we packed up our things to walk to lot A, we decide to leave all electronic items in Josh’s car. No cameras anymore, no cell phones, no iPods—only a credit card and license are deemed reasonable. Josh makes his last phone call, informing our friends that we’re on our way before closing and locking the doors.
During the walk, the sky only gets darker, the rain harder and the temperature colder. We’re literally soaked from head to toe. Amber’s umbrella breaks because of the wind’s severity. As we approach lot A, we realize we can’t keep walking straight because a river has begun to flow right in front of our walking path. We manage to work our way around the river. Walking in jeans becomes arduous as the denim plasters itself to our thighs and calves. Where are our friends? We couldn’t call or text. We just had to keep searching.
“What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…†~ Creep, Radiohead
“Why didn’t you guys buy ponchos?†our friends in lot A scream, alarmed that we’re so drenched. “They haven’t made it over our way yet,†Josh explains, sounding like a movie line straight from a disaster flick. Byron lights a cigarette under their car roof, which they too were all huddled under. As soon as he steps out to greet me, the rain pounds his cigarette off of its filter and onto the ground. Jokes about Vietnam begin to seem appropriate. We’re now shivering. My entire body begins to shake. Then, out of nowhere, I hear Claudia’s voice. She approaches the group, umbrella in hand, raincoat on. “I have plastic bags wrapped around my feet under my boots and I also have a change of clothes in the car for the ride home,†she says. We all stare at her with jealousy. Some of the girls express interest in just going home. No way. We paid a lot of money and we’ve come this far. The worst of it had to be over, right? Let’s just hear one song and decide.
Onward towards will-call we go. We try to walk faster, but our legs are like liquorice in our soaked jeans. Toby tries to take his ticket out, only to realize his printed ticket is ruined—unrecognizable. Only those in sealed plastic bags will work. Our group unintentionally splits up. We can’t see anything in front of us. “Bruce?! Claudia?!†They’re nowhere to be found, but Bruce has my ticket! Even if someone around me does have their BlackBerry or iPhone, it is no help; no one else has their phones. Byron luckily has an extra ticket, so I make it inside the gates. Off to the lawn we go. People are falling down the lawn’s sloped hill left and right. Radiohead begins playing. The large screens are turned off for electrical reasons, obviously. Shiver, dance, shiver, dance, shiver, dance…
Back at the car everyone strips to their underwear, turning the heat up full blast in an effort to thaw out. What the hell just happened for the past six hours? Was this the worst concert experience ever? Was it the best? It was memorable none-the-less. I began to think of the concert in terms of being a product we bought. It was marketed to us as a rain or shine event, after all. The band had to be fully aware of the conditions outside. As they played one hit after the next, it seemed to me like they were simply using an age-old direct response format: But wait, there’s more!
It’s ironic that the same band that broke technology and industry barriers last year by allowing its new album “In Rainbows†to be downloaded for free on the Internet held a concert that reduced us back to the 1980s technology-wise. Without Byron’s extra ticket, I would have been wandering back to the car before hearing one song. We were all thrown for a loop without the gadgets we’ve become so dependent on. However, for as much as my generation is sometimes too reliant on technology, elements of our parent’s generation were clearly evident as we continued the simple pursuit of live music, much to the detriment of our comfort and health.
“For a minute there, I lost myself…†~ Karma Police, Radiohead
Pat Cauley is Electronic Retailer magazine’s eMedia Editor
Tags: annual convention, Direct Response, Electronic Retailer, ERA, in rainbows, may 11, new product hot spot, nissan pavilion, pat cauley, radiohead
[...] Direct Response, Radiohead and Rain However, for as much as my generation is sometimes too reliant on technology, elements of our parent’s generation were clearly evident as we continued the simple pursuit of live music, much to the detriment of our comfort and health. … [...]
Hi Pat
Great post, I like the connections you make!
I feel I can somehow relate, having watched Radiohead in the peeing rain in Oxford a few years ago. Having made a point of not playing Creep for a decade they obviously thought “to hell with it, it’s our first and only massive gig in our hometown, our only UK date this year, it’s pissing with rain - everyone is absolutely soaked to the skin - what will the punters really want?… ah go on then… lets play Creep”
Nice.
I just loved that ultimate direct-to-consumer approach with In Rainbows. It’s not the answer to the industry’s problems, giving something away free, but without doubt it points to massive changes in the way companies, bands, artists, get things to people. It’ll be interesting to see where we are in two years …
very good post very good site keep it up
[...] Direct Response, Radiohead and Rain [...]
[...] was nothing like my experience at a Radiohead concert last May where weather complications prohibited the use of technology forcing my friends and I to wonder [...]
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