I'm With The Band: Jamming With Weezer & 250 Of Their Closest Friends At Live Sets

At this point, I've been the blogger for dozens of Nissan Live Sets concerts, and all of them have been unique in their own way. I've seen a roomful of crazed punks bumrush the stage at the Stooges' set, Ryan Adams have a hissyfit and stomp the stage midshow, Joni Mitchell surprise Herbie Hancock fans with an unannounced duet, Kelly Clarkson get serenaded by a 7-year-old aspiring Idol, Beck perform with a posse of puppets, etc. These are but a few of my personal past Live Sets highlights. But in all cases, aside from a quick meet-and-greet with the artist du jour, I've pretty much stayed on the sidelines. (My one attempt to join the show and jump onstage with the Stooges was thwarted by overzealous security guards. Grrrr.)

Well, all that changed when Weezer staged the BESTEST LIVE SET EVER this month. The proverbial audience/artist wall came crashing down, and I found myself joining Weezer's ever-expanding lineup on this fine day. Yes, for about two glorious hours I was an honorary member of Weezer--along with 250 or so other lucky fans--and really, when I'd showed up for the taping, I'd had no idea that I'd be doing anything other than sitting in the audience as usual, notepad and pen in hand. But I wound up sitting on the floor at Pat Wilson's feet, holding some sort of weird percussion thingamabob instead. And let me tell you from my personal Live Sets experience: The latter scenario is waaay more fun.

I don't know if it was more fun for our crew, however, especially for our soundboard staffers. I'm pretty sure when Weezer proposed the idea of inviting 250 instrument-wielding fans to the show--encouraging them to bring their own guitars, keyboards, accordions, woodwinds, trombones, melodicas, tubas, triangles, maracas, tissue papers & combs, et al--the Live Sets sound people blanched, imagining with horror the cacophonous chaos that would ensue. But it turned out to be the most joyous noise ever heard in the Live Sets room. It was truly magical.

So my friend Dane and I showed up that day, and Dane--a drummer in many indie-powerpop bands who distinctly recalls the day he decided to be a drummer after hearing Weezer on the radio as a kid--was even more jazzed than I was. He quickly grabbed a pair of bongos (various percussive instruments were available for fans who'd arrived empty-handed) and made a beeline for a prime spot right next to his boyhood idol Pat Wilson's drumkit. Not being a "real" musician myself, I selected an instrument with which I hoped I could do the least aural damage possible: a pair of wooden blocks coated with sandpaper that made a pleasant, relatively muffled sound. Even so, a concerned soundman suggested I play the blocks very softly--and if I had any doubts about my ability to keep time with Pat, to just put the blocks down and sing instead. Dude, if that sound guy had ever heard me do karaoke before, he'd have known that I'd be better off just sticking with those blocky thingies.

Speaking of which, Weezer's Geffen labelmates, Britpoppers the Switches, were also at the show, lending their more refined musical expertise and experience to the proceedings, and it was fun to see them again since I'd just sang with them at their karaoke party the evening before. Once again, Switches and I jammed together--and they too would probably agree I have a better potential future career in sandblocking than in singing. (Click HERE for my blog on all that Switches karaoke kookiness.)

But the point of the Weezer Live Sets (and the Switches' karaoke party, come to think of it) was: Jamming with your favorite band is FRICKIN' FUN, whether you're a seasoned pro or a totally tone-deaf amateur. There were musicians of all shapes, sizes, and skill levels at Weezer's Live Sets "hootenanny," and on that day, they were all equal, all unofficial members of Weezer. Like, I recall seeing a shy little boy sitting next to me on the floor with a toy drum set, and I asked him if he was a drummer. He answered no. To which I said, "Well, you are now!"

To keep the vibe free 'n' easy, there was no formal rehearsal before the show began in earnest. (Once again, I'm sure this THRILLED the sound people.) "We have no idea what's about to happen," the Live Sets producer, Neal, frankly told the crowd.

"None of us do!" retorted band leader Rivers Cuomo (who, incidentally, was clad so fully head-to-toe in Weezer logo gear, he could have been mistaken for just another diehard fan). Everyone giggled. Everyone except the crew, of course. The non-giggling crew looked pretty worried, actually.

"We anticipated this would be much quieter," Neal admitted, as he nervously surveyed the assembled gaggle of instrument-toting Weezer geeks. The sound guy's brows were so knitted together by this point, he'd pratically given himself a makeshift unibrow.

"Now I realize why Brian Wilson went crazy during the making of Smile," my bandmate-for-a-day Dane whispered to me. Ooh, I wrote that one down. That was a great quote, if ever I'd heard one.

But then the jam sesh kicked off with "Pork & Beans," and it was amazing how smoothly it went, how seamlessly all those wailing instrument sounds came together to form one perfect pocket symphony. With just a little well-heeded direction from the band members on when/how to hum, yell "hey!," or clap along, "Pork & Beans" transformed into a sort of kumbaya love-in song, kind of like a "Give Weeze A Chance" group chant. The crowd nailed the performance in just one take. This despite the fact I prematurely yelled "hey!" in the wrong spot like a total loser and almost ruined the whole song. I told that sound guy I shouldn't sing!

Things got even cuter when Weezer & Friends surprisingly covered Radiohead's "Creep" (with bassist Scott Shriner on lead vocals) and one nervous but willing and able accordion player was picked out of the crowd to perform a solo. "Islands In The Sun" was next, with Tom from Switches singled out to play keyboards--and singled out quite prominently, as he was in the "loo" at the time and everyone was waiting for him to return. (Hope he washed his hands before he touched those keys!) The other 249 raptly attentive musicians took easy direction from Rivers like he was their benevolent cult leader (they also had commemorative lyric/music sheet shoots to consult), and the result was another one-take effort, described by Rivers as "sweet golden brown magic."

The entire show in fact consisted of one sweet golden brown magic moment after another, from the new Red Album song "Automatic" with Pat on lead vocals and Rivers on drums, to the goosebump-raising harmonium solo and funny mewling-cat kazoo squeals in "Say It Ain't So," to the "Bon Jovi-style" unison clapping during a Brian Bell-fronted "El Scorcho."

But the sweetest, most golden, brownest, most magical moments were actually the unscripted ones. These fans were so happy to be there, and had clearly spent so much time, Rivers-hermit-like, in their bedrooms practicing the entire Weezer catalog, that even during the between-song downtime they started jamming to Weezer tunes entirely on their own. One intrepid partystarter would start strumming, say, the mid-'90s B-side "Jamie" or the Blue Album classic "Surf Wax America," one by one other fans would join in (including me, on my trusty sandblocks)...and before you knew it, the whole room was filled with a Weezer song not even on the day's official setlist.

And then Rivers would just stare out dazedly at the sea of admirers paying impromptu tribute to him and his music--music that obviously means the WORLD to them--and he'd smile, good-naturedly shrug, pick up his guitar, and join in as well.

It was pretty much the cutest thing I'd ever seen or taken part in.

"We are the Weezer, 250 strong!" Rivers declared.

"You guys are really feeling what it's like to be in Weezer right now, because you ARE in Weezer right now," Scott added.

"So, do we get royalties?" one smart-alecky fan shouted out.

Well, probably not. Chances are these fans signed some piece of fine-printed paper that ensures that won't be the case. The check's not in the mail, guys. But these fans will always have their memories of this very, very special day. And trust me, coming from someone who was there: Those memories are priceless.