Setting: Philadelphia, December, 1999. Mumia Abul Jamal's original execution date. And who's playing in Philly that night? Rage Against the Machine. Of course. The execution has been postponed due to the threat of a riot following the concert. I'm there. Fourth row, just outside the 3,000 member pit. There are 60,000 of us in the stadium. We've seen and heard over an hour and a half of rage, and Zack de la Rocha has just declared that there's one more song in the set. We all know what it is, and you can practically feel static coming off the crowd. Then the lights cut out.
In the pitch black of the stadium comes the beginning pulses of "Killing in the Name". The crowd absolutely roars. The lights remain black until a yellow spot hits the bass as he kicks in with a triplet pattern. A purple spot alights over the drums as they join the pattern on a-go-go bells. Then the lights go back out.
As the chorus riff kicks in, sending the mob into a frenzy, the lights remain out on stage- instead, a strobe hits the pit, which in the flashing beams appears as an ocean of mad, furious bodies. They're not moshing. They're simply jumping up and down, pounding their souls against the floor and the world to the beat of the song. The world suddenly goes insane.
Through five minutes of flashing lights, half-crazed preaching, sweat, and 60,000 voices screaming "FUCK YOU, I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!!!" we bellow until our throats burn and our lungs beg us to stop. Then we bellow some more.
After the set is over, the band leaves the stage. Every one of us in the crowd is prepared to kill for the band. I guess this is mob mentality. I keep thinking that the lights crew for the show should get an award. I've never seen music matched as well as this. To this day the thought of that crowd, that show, that song, sends shivers up my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.