WC2006: Jukebox Heroes

MAINZ (2:24pm local time) -- The plan for the evening was to catch as much live music at the festival and as much of Mexico-Argentina as possible. As I walked down to the Schillerplatz, I couldn't help thinking "is that a German band playing reggae?" Indeed, it was, and they followed Marley's "No Woman No Cry" with a pretty darn good version of "So Lonely" by The Police. I'm totally going to steal the Chekov-esque reading of the line "but I just can't conwince myself" the next time I play it, but again, a pretty credible rendition. Following that, the set list got...I don't know...German? Falco's "Rock Me Amadeus" without a hint of irony followed by "Relax" from Frankie Goes To Hollywood. Then it's Foreigner and "Jukebox Hero," something I couldn't quite recognize from the bar across the street, and then what seemed to be a spot-on version of "Bohemian Rhapsody." The drummer was hitting a lot of the high notes, which required the band's manager or some other associate to stand next to him and move the microphone in front of his mouth when he needed it.

So, that was fun. I stick around for a fairly surreal radio station promotion that involves contestants air-guitaring badly to...here we go again..."Highway To Hell," then head over toward the stage where I saw the marching band during the afternoon.

I never quite make it, coming across a beer stand with a TV where I watch the second half and extra time with a father and son from San Diego. Argentina looks decidedly flat relative to the group stage, which makes me wonder if taking it easy in that third match might bite them in the ass. Or it could be that Messi and Tevez were both held out until very late. Still, they may have peaked too early.

I try to hunt down whatever music might still be going in before the amps all get shut off at midnight, but all I find of note is an acoustic guitarist and drummer playing "A Little Less Conversation," which we've talked about doing in Diver.

Lots of trips back and forth between the two stages I had been able to locate throughout the night, and to avoid the massive pedestrian traffic, lots of trips down the same side street with the "Crazy Video Shop" and what looks like some sort of strip club. It dawns on me that I'm pretty much just walking in circles and putting my feet in considerable anguish, so I return to the apartment and the teenage birthday party already in progress. Tongues somewhat loosened by the evening's festivities - the legal drinking age here is 16 - more of the kids try to hold conversations in English, and do pretty well with it. Eventually, fatigue catches up with me and I retire for the night.