Daft Punked

Remember that concert film the Beastie Boys made by editing footage from 50 audience members who shot one of their concerts with camcorders?

Well, Daft Punk tried to do that at Coney Island Thursday night. And because I had a ticket and a DV camera, I volunteered to shoot an hour's worth of footage for them. Their pay?

$1. CASH.
The ticket itself was about $50. And 10¢ of that $1 belongs to my lawyer.

Hell, I thought it might be fun. And it had been a while since I'd fucked around with the old camera, so I figured this would give me a nice excuse.

When the amateur videographer brigade checked in, we were each assigned a specific area to cover. Of course, the thing was General Admission, and the place got packed, and it took great effort just to wield the fucking camera for a good hour amidst the bumping sea of bodies.

But the best part was, despite all the big signs around the fucking venue, the illiterate motherfucking Daft Punk fans around me just assumed that the people like me with DV cameras were just shooting for our own amusement, or for some bootleg thing. The glares from certain people said, "Why would you bring a camera like that to this concert, you asshole?"

Two cocksuckers behind me made a running commentary of the footage I tried to obtain. Right behind me. As if they assumed I was deaf or only understood Cantonese.

An hour-long miniDV tape. Most of the footage: crap. I kept my eye on the timer, shut down at 60 minutes, and got the fuck out of there. A shame, perhaps, because the music was really good. But I was just annoyed as all fuck and I wanted out of that unclefucking crowd.

Dropped off my miniDV tape at the exit; they gave me a nifty Daft Punk t-shirt as a bonus. And they should be sending a CD and/or DVD to me in the mail. My name better be in the credits.

No Gay Horse or Shuffled-5 today. I hurt, everybody hurts.