Limp Bizkit, Cypress Hill & Cold

I am not a big Limp Bizkit fan. Don't let my backwards red cap, tattoos, flava sava' goatee or shaved head fool you. I am not Fred Durst, I never was Fred Durst and if anyone calls me Fred Durst, I am going to put a Compton-style beat-down on them. In fact, I was sporting all the aforementioned accessories years before that guy even realized he liked music. However, one thing I will do, I go see them live, especially on their Napster-sponsored "Back To Basics" tour with Cypress Hill and Cold.

The tour was created to provide "true fans" in major markets around the U.S. a chance to see three bands in somewhat intimate settings. We got laced down with wristbands (fans had to camp overnight to get theirs) and VIP passes which took us directly to the floor. Entrance to the Olympic Auditorium in downtown L.A. was easy, beer was cheap and lines were short. We had missed opener Cold, but were blessed to arrive on time for the real reason we were there.

The room fell dark but the herb began to light it up. Cypress Hill had entered the building. B-Real and Sen-Dog took the stage with an aura of energy that was unsurpassed. Being the last show of the tour — in their hometown at that — I expected no less. Accompanied by a congo player, they ran through a 25-minute set of their classics. B-Real's nasal flow on joints like "Duke of Earl," "How I Could Just Kill a Man" and "Hand on the Pump" mixed with Muggs’ muffled riffs to keep the smoke ablaze. Yet before I knew it, their new "hardcore" band came out to play some cuts off the new disc(s). BEER BREAK. The music was hard and driving and seemed to keep the kids’ attention, but not mine.

As I clanked my fifty-cent tip into the beer jar, I heard a large roar from the crowd. Cypress had brought one lucky fan to the stage to meet Excalibur, their 5-footer. This kid proved me wrong, snapped the whole tube and dove back into the crowd with a killer experience under his belt. This only propelled Cypress back into their set, continuing to fuck it up until their time ran out.

During the intermission we found the hospitality tent and proceeded to help ourselves to free beer. I finally found a chance to elevate a little and was ready for Limp Bizkit. In true L.A. fashion, they had erected a 25-foot-high chain link fence for the band to play behind. I expected a lot of energy after what I had just seen Cypress do, but Limp Bizkit made that look like a warm-up. I figured it was time for me to rush the stage and throw myself into a little pit action so I could get the true experience. I found myself lifting up child crowd surfers every two minutes as they ran through a raucous set of mind-blowing intensity.

They played all their favorites including "Faith," "Counterfeit," "Nookie" and "Take a Look Around." And now for a bit of irony. The highlight of the set came when Fred was having technical difficulties. That was when Wes Borland took it upon himself to play a little solo Metallica cover, just to rub it in. By the night’s end, I was a sweaty mess but a happy camper. Not a bad combination for a free show in the ghetto.

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