"How you feelin'?"
"Oh, I'm fine."
"My name is Mos."
"I'm Patrice."
"I heard so much good about you. It's nice to finally meet you."
We would chat a while before he would have to go on stage, but he would insist that we meet up later that night at the after party while slipping me his personal number. I've never made it past that part of the fantasy though. My alarm clock always rang by that point.
While I would have preferred to meet Mos in the above-mentioned manner, meeting and interviewing him at Amherst College after his performance at Spring Concert ain't half bad. Besides, beggars can't be choosers. When I heard that, contrary to the circulating rumors, Mos Def was actually the performer for Spring Concert, the cogwheels in my head immediately began turning. Mos Def? In the same building as me? I had to interview him. I knew the deal though, so the Monday before the show, I approached the advisor of the Amherst College Program Board (ACPB), the student organization that hired Mos Def and organized the Spring Concert, and told her of my hopes to interview Mos for The Amherst Student. She told me that she would contact Mos' agent and try to get me an interview. Meanwhile, she guaranteed me a press pass for the night of the concert. Yay! Then she informed me that the press pass would not provide me with access to the dressing room, backstage or any place cool like that. Womp Womp Womp.
Saturday rolled around and there I was, still without a confirmed interview. I received an e-mail from the advisor that told me where to pick up my press pass (remember, this press pass does not grant full access …) and assured me that she would find out if Mos was down for the interview that night. It was at that point that my "go-getta" attitude kicked in. I was going to get that interview. Clearly, I was the only person who could really get the interview-not the advisor, not Mos' agent, and definitely not student security (those kids are no joke. My camera almost got confiscated twice … Keep up the good work!)
As every "go-getta" knows, you don't take no for an answer. You can't just think that you're going to get what you want. You must know and believe it. In fact, I was so confident in my "go-getta" powers that I rolled into the concert with my girl Meredith an hour late due to a pressing engagement (DASAC barbeque anyone?) Luckily, one of the opening acts was still on stage, rhyming about something that I couldn't really discern. I mean, he wasn't bad or anything. I simply knew what I had come to do that night and some Rawkus-signed, tortoise-shell-frame-rocking, Kangol-hat-wearing MC was not going to get in my way.
Since Mos was not yet on stage, I went about my business. First thing to do was to find the advisor and find out if Mos had confirmed the interview or not. But, she was nowhere to be found. I strolled up to the table in the Cage where others were picking up mere tickets. I was there for my press pass.
An ACPB member looked up from her listed paper and asked me, "What's your name?"
"Patrice Peck, I'm actually here-"
Another girl at the table who was also rocking a Mos Def Spring Concert shirt that said STAFF on the back quickly finished my sentence.
"Right! You have a press pass for The Amherst Student."
She couldn't find the press pass at the table, so she went to the other side of the Cage to find her advisor. Even though she returned empty-handed, she reassured me that Mos Def was not even in the building yet. He was late-yet another sign that we were destined to meet. Anyway, the girl suggested that I come behind the tables and into the restricted area set off for mostly student security and staff. I didn't want to leave my girl, but, alas, the life of a journalist is a lonely one. So we parted ways there, although Meredith did, in fact, play a very vital role in my meeting Mos Def. Plus, she had gotten my camera into the building in true Colombian hook up style. Think about it. I put down my things on a security table in the Cage (a camera, my ID, and my all access pass from the Immortal Technique concert-you can't knock me for trying) and decided to go check out the concert some more. Meredith and I stood to the side for a bit, and then resorted to elbowing to the front of the audience in true small girl fashion. A couple minutes later, Meredith got a text message from her student security friend. It said that she was in the escort van that had just picked up Mos Def from the hotel and that they were on their way.
That was my cue. I sprinted back to the Cage and finally met up with the advisor. She informed me that since Mos had shown up an hour after his scheduled arrival time, I had no time to interview him when he arrived. Understandable. She then continued on to tell me what Mos had said concerning the interview:
"He said that if he did do an interview, it would only be with you."
Of course, "you" meant The Amherst Student, but I'll take what I can get. I asked the advisor if she thought I really had a good chance of interviewing him, but she was unsure. She flitted off to do advisorly things and, I guess, make sure that everything was running smoothly with Mos and the concert. As I sat in the Cage weighing my chances, two grown men who clearly did not go to Amherst darted into the room.
"Where's the bathroom?" one yelled to me.
"Back there." I gestured behind me.
He nodded to me. The other one glanced in my direction then did a double take.
"You're cute." He stated, very matter of factly while jogging past me, "Can I get your number?" He didn't wait for me to respond. "I'll be right back," he ensured me as he followed his accomplice into the next room. A look of skepticism and humor covered my face. By the time they returned, I was still chuckling to myself. The other one ran past me back to what I assumed was backstage. My friend put on his brakes but kept the engine running as he asked me yet again, "Can I get your number?" I couldn't help but to keep laughing. I mean come on, since when do dudes holla in Amherst? He paid my laughter no mind. It quickly dawned on him that he hadn't even introduced himself to me, so he quickly introduced himself and shook my hand. He then revved up yet again and went in the same direction that the other man had. "I'll come find you after," he yelled over his shoulder. Great.
Music began reverberating throughout the Cage, so I ran into the gym where Mos Def had decided to finally grace the stage. For the next hour and a half, Mos rocked the stage, performing his greatest hits. Contrary to what many audience members believed, Mos does have more than one hit, even though "Ms. Fat Booty" is definitely the track with most radio play. He performed tracks from his 1999 hip-hop classic "Black on Both Sides"; his and Talib Kweli's "Black Star album"; his sophomore album, "The New Danger"; his new album "Tru3 Magic," and some new joints. Scatter that with a handful of suitable R.I.P J Dilla shout-outs, the singing/yelping and pseudo-Carribean accent that Mos is known for, some live instruments and there you have it. I enjoyed this great hip-hop experience from, yes people, the side of the stage amidst the brolic student security, the opening artists, the staff, and Mos' people and stage crew. Forget a press pass, I meant business. Oh yeah, and that dude that tried to holla turned out to be one of Mos' DJs. Hm, interesting.
Please excuse my brief summary of the great concert that took place last Saturday, but this is about the events leading up to my meeting with Mos. Anyway, after the concert was over, security hopped to and began telling people to go home. Like I said before, very "gansta gansta." But it wasn't time for me to leave just yet. I hung around with the rest of the concert crew, just wishing someone would say something to me about how I shouldn't be there because I would let them have it. But no one did. Note to self: Others can sense the "go-getta" fragrance and they respect it. The advisor gave out orders to the student staff, then told me again that she was unsure about whether I could get the interview or not since everyone was getting ready to leave. Mos was nowhere to be found, so I decided to get my camera from the Cage so that I would have it handy during my interview.
A lovely staff member (shout out to APCB; ya'll were really accommodating) escorted me to a small alcove that connected the gym and the Cage. We opened the door only to find Mos Def standing there, chatting with a few staff members. My escort said hello then gushed to him about how much she enjoyed the concert. I also said hello and shook his hand (second time I touched his hand that night; first was when he did that concert type high-five down the front row.) I turned to continue into the Cage when a voice said to me, "Forget the middleman. Ask him your damn self." So, I quickly turned to Mos and introduced myself again. I told him that I worked for the school newspaper and would love it if I could have a quick interview with him, then held my breath. I said this all so fast that I wasn't sure if he had even understood me. Mos then began laughing, commenting on how widely I had opened my eyes when I asked him, "You don't have time for an interview, do you?"
"I don't really do press stuff," he claimed. "I talk too much." I then promised him that it would be a very brief interview, and finally he was convinced enough to say yes. "Okay, three questions," he said, smiling. Victory! My heart began racing. Shit, I didn't even have my voice recorder, a pen, a pad, nothing. "Okay, give me like one minute."
So I rushed into the Cage like a bat out of hell and grabbed up my friend's cellphone, my camera, a stray pen and a notebook from somebody's tote bag (they would understand) and ran back into the gym, accidentally poking a few security members with my pen as I bumped past them.
When I got back into the gym, I thought up three questions to ask him, then patiently waited for Mos while avoiding the DJ from earlier. A few minutes passed before a staff member came up to me, asked if I was ready, then led me to his dressing room. His dressing room! The staff member left me at the door. I was on my own now. As I ascended the stairs, I reminded myself to play it cool and not to appear fazed. Mos was in the room looking all golden and whatnot, along with four other people who kept calling him Dante, his real name. I thanked Mos for agreeing to do the interview, then told him how we had to use the cell phone to record the interview since I didn't have my voice recorder on hand. Having gotten all of the perfunctory babble out of the way, I began interviewing him.
Me: Did you enjoy performing here? How was the audience?
Mos: I had a really good time. The audience was great. There was a lot of love.
Me: What's your favorite song to perform?
Mos: It depends. I mean, we're always changing the set. Right now, I'm really on that Dilla intro from "Ruff Draft"…track five. It's always something new that we're doing, so it changes from place to place.
Me: What's the deal with "Tru3 Magic?" Is it officially out yet?
Mos: It's a long story that I won't get into here, but I'm glad that it's out and that people have been picking it up.
Me: Would you ever come back here to perform?
Mos: Definitely.
And there you have it. Okay, so it was four questions, but he was even smiling that adorable smile the whole time. With the interview out of the way, there was only one thing left to do. Photo op! I mean, what's an interview with Mos Def if you don't have physical evidence? He agreed to it, but only because I had already interviewed him. He put his arm around me as I hooked my arm onto his waist. The flash went off and judging by the picture I had sported the lil' Kool-Aid smile. Figures. Once again, I thanked Mos Def, said goodnight to him and his people, and left the gym on a Mos-induced high. I had met and interviewed Mos Def. Mission accomplished … of course.