Pantera was in the final throes of their biggest hit, Walk, when Jake and company made their way into the roped off walkway that led to their stage. Jake did not have a very good view of Dimebag and Phil and the boys because Stage 1 was at an angle to them and twenty yards away. But he could hear them just fine. In fact, their volume was ear-shattering, so loud that one could barely understand the lyrics, could not hear the bass as being separate from the guitar.
“No,” Jake said, giving a little shake of the head in response to the hook line of the song. “I am not talking to you.”
Nobody heard him over the music. He could barely hear himself.
Things got a little quieter as they entered the backstage area. Here, his crew and a few Music Alive technicians were working on what final preparations they could work on before being granted access to the actual stage. Pantera finally wrapped up the finale of Walk and their instruments went blessedly silent. The roar of the crowd washed over everyone for the first time and its sheer volume was remarkable in and of itself.
“Jesus,” Pauline said nervously as she heard it. “There’s a lot of fucking people out there.”
“Almost a hundred thousand,” Jake said, taking a peek out through a partition, which allowed him to actually see the crowd for the first time. It was an impressive sight. The amphitheater seating stretched backwards up a gentle incline for nearly a quarter of a mile and was nearly three hundred yards wide. “I have never played in front of this many before.”
“I have never sang in front of anyone before,” Pauline reminded him. “I’m a little nervous about this, little bro.”
“You’ll be okay, Paulie,” he reassured her, giving her a little one-armed hug. “Just imagine that all of them are naked.”
“A lot of them actually are naked,” said Phil, who had found his own partition to observe the crowd through.
This, of course, led to a mass rush for openings through which to peek by those with a penis. Except for Nerdly. He was in a bit of a titter. “Pantera had about the worst concert sound that I have ever heard in all my years in the industry! What were they thinking? Who set up their sound for them? It was atrocious!”
“I think they’re part of the school of thought that believes that louder is better,” Jake said.
“That is high school level thinking,” Nerdly said. “I am going to find out who their sound engineer is and have a little talk with him.”
“Could you do that after our show?” Jake asked.
“Well, yes, of course,” Nerdly said.
Pantera had now left the stage. One of the MCs took their place and stood at one of their microphones. “Let’s hear it one more time for Pantera!” he told the crowd. This produced another one of those roars that washed over everyone.
“I really just don’t get the appeal of that band,” Jake said, shaking his head a little.
“Some mysteries will never be solved,” said G, who was sipping from a bottle of water.
“Our second to last act of the evening,” continued the MC, “will be taking to Stage 2 on the left side of the venue in just twenty-five minutes. I hope everyone here is in the mood for a little Jake Kingsley!”
The roar rushed over them again, considerably louder this time than it had been for Pantera. It seemed like the crowd was in the mood for a little Jake Kingsley, this despite several articles in prominent music magazines over the past month questioning whether or not Jake Kingsley, with his alternative rock sound, really belonged at a heavy metal oriented festival like the TSF. Jake basked in the sound of the applause, feeling some of his doubts and fears slipping away.
“You hear that shit, Jake?” G asked, clapping him on the back. “That’s for you, brother!”
“Music to my ears,” Jake said with a smile.
The crew was given the go-ahead to access the stage and start setting up. They went to work, putting into practice maneuvers they had only rehearsed in the studio building to this point. But they were professional roadies and techs, and they were being paid well, and they did their jobs with efficiency, precision, and a teamwork ethic that professional sports teams would be envious of.
While the two primary sound techs and Sharon Archer made their way to the main soundboard out in the audience, Ted’s drum set was wheeled back up the ramp by four of the roadies and positioned near the back of the stage. The microphones and their stands were brought up next and positioned at the direction of Jeff, who had a schematic map of the stage with marks showing where everything and everyone was to be positioned. G’s keyboard was brought up next and assembled in his spot just in front of and to the left of the drum platform. And then the amps and the effects pedals were placed. Jake had two pedals and his talk box at the base of his microphone stand at the front center of the stage. Lenny did not have a microphone stand because he did not sing—at least not with Jake, he did do some backup singing for Lighthouse—so his were placed just behind and to the left of Jake’s position. Pauline’s and Phil’s microphone stands were placed just to the right of the drum platform.
Next, it was time to wire everything up. Boxes of cords were brought up, with each cord in question being tightly wound up and labeled for what it was for. It had become standard over the past few years to use wireless, belt mounted transmitters instead of physical cords but Jake was going old school. He had used the wireless tech playing with G, and Laura was used to it as well, but most of his core band members were unfamiliar with the technology and he had not had time to purchase the equipment and train everyone on it. The only one who had a wireless box was Laura, because having a cord trailing from her small soprano sax would be distracting, both to her and the audience.
It took about ten minutes to wire everything up and run the wires to the Lux. Once this was accomplished, the main wiring that led to the sound board where Sharon and the techs were stationed, were plugged into the back of the Lux. The Lux was powered up and then the amps were turned on and adjusted to the levels that had been established during the sound check. A hum briefly emitted from the main speakers of the venue, followed by a brief burst of feedback.
“All right,” Jeff said to his crew. “Let’s start doing the checks.”
He and Nerdly walked out onto the stage. No one in the crowd seemed to recognize Nerdly, which was not unusual. Of all the former Intemperance members, he was the one who had always been able to blend in in a crowd the best thanks to his crewcut hair, preppie manner of dressing, and his thick glasses. The two of them checked the mikes first, tapping each one and then saying “test test” or sometimes “testing, one two three” into them to evaluate the sound output, both audibly and on the board itself. Nerdly had a portable radio he used to communicate with Sharon and when something needed a minor adjustment—as it usually did when Nerdlys were involved—he would relay it to her, or she to him, and the adjustment would be made.
After finishing the mikes, they started on the drums. One of the roadies who was an accomplished drummer himself sat in Ted’s seat and pounded each individual drum while the Nerdlys checked the output of the mikes that picked up the sound. A few adjustments were made, and Nerdly would have loved to make more, but the clock was ticking. They were less than twelve minutes away from stage time. Nerdly declared the drum set operational within parameters and they moved on to the guitars.