“Are you prepared for this to be a night with all of my high school friends?” Evan asked me, earnestly.
“Yes, I can do this.”
Going up on the gondola to the top of Snow King Mountain, I second-guessed my confidence. We rode up with some teenagers, a white woman with dreads, and a guy who wore a shirt that said, “Blunts Before Cunts.” Me.
Wu-Tang Clan isn’t an act I ever thought I’d see in concert, let alone in Wyoming. And to be fair, we saw Raekwon, GZA, and Ghostface Killah. I don’t think we’re allowed to call them “Wu-Tang” for legal reasons… but I’m gonna.
It’s not that I’m not a fan, but I just came too late to the Wu game to be a true fan. In 1992, I was in second grade. At the same time I was eating Rico’s nacho cheese cups and watching Darkwing Duck, three cousins—Gary Grice, Robert Diggs, and Russell Jones (known best as GZA, RZA, and Ol’ Dirty Bastard, respectively)—were in New York (Staten Island), starting one of the best hip-hop groups of all time with like 100 of their best friends: including Method Man, Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck, U-God, Masta Killa, and Cappadonna.
I’m always so intrigued by how musicians get together. The fact that three of Wu-Tang’s members are first cousins is mind-blowing to me. I have seven first cousins and only two of their phone numbers. (we shan’t be creating a music group any time soon.) Ghostface Killah and Raekwon were friends in junior high in 1983, approximately a decade before Wu-Tang took off.
Wu-Tang Clan’s first single ever was created in 1992 and gained huge success in 1993, launching them into hip-hop stardom.
I remember seeing Wu-Tang on Arsenio Hall and thinking, “Wow, there are so many people on that stage.”
In elementary school, I never rapped along with Wu-Tang on the talk shows or MTV music videos. I was more likely wrapping myself up in this one vintage towel that had been my grandma’s—a floral print that I thought looked like a dress print I’d seen on a red carpet—and pretending I was on a talk show, being interviewed by a host. What was the reason I was being interviewed you ask? Oh, because I was just a really good friend who everyone wanted to talk to. (literally couldn’t even think of a talent that would make me worthy to be on a talk show when I was a kid.)
The Pharcyde opened up for Wu-Tang.
I love Pharcyde, because they’re amazing: yes, but also because of how much Larry Mizell Jr. spun them when I was at KEXP and lit up. (people who show you good music and how happy it makes them are so important in your life.) Evan and I went up to the front and just vibed together. There were so. many. high school kids posted up at the front gates of the show. A kid I nannied from ages four months to four years was there with a group of his friends. To be fair, Wu-Tang is for the children.
I should’ve felt old, but with Evan, this felt like a date night where we reverted to children. I pretended he found me in second grade (when he was in third) and showed me all his favorite music and we rewound all the tapes until we memorized the words.
In between Pharcyde and Wu-Tang, there was a gooooood amount of time for catching up with friends. Wu-Tang is infamous for going on late, apparently, but we weren’t bothered. We were 40-somethings and our kid was at grandma’s and it was a glorious Summer night in the mountains and they had tacos for sale, baby, we were fine! (also, I was like, “Wu-Tang played the Knicks half-time show two days ago… there’s a 50% chance they just don’t show.”)
We were great. But Evan was not kidding, because all of his high school friends were there. It was actually the cutest.
It was like seeing this third, forth, fifth, sixth grade version of my person—my husband. As Evan reconnected with each old friend, I saw a new aspect of him and it felt like we grew a bit together through the years. I was afraid it might give me the ick a little bit to see all these white boys nerd out about Wu-Tang, but instead it made me really happy to see Evan just nerd out about childhood and the fact that these people he loves are grown now.
He introduced me to a friend, Jenny, who he was in mid-conversation with. Evan was talking about how he bought Nona—our VW van—from Jenny’s grandma. Jenny kept saying she wanted to see photos and I hilariously thought she wanted to see photos of Nona—we did get married with her!
And also were on a van trip in Nona when I told Evan I was pregnant with Marcelline. But Jenny was referencing her conversation with Evan about Marcelline, so when I was showing her about the fourth photo of our van, she kindly told me, “No, I want to see pictures of your daughter.” Ha! Whoops!
Evan went off and talked to so many other friends.
As Evan came back to me, right before RZA, Ghostface Killah, and Raekwon came on, I said, “Evan?? Hiiii… I’m Rachel. I haven’t seen you in so long!”
Evan laughed and then said, “I told you it was going to be like this.”
“I know. I know. But you didn’t even go to high school with that last guy—he’s from Seattle!”
“I went to high school with him! He just lives in Seattle now. He works at The Croc! That’s Josh Saenger. He was a couple years ahead of me, but everyone called him ‘Wu-Saeng’ because he loves Wu-Tang so much.”
I then noticed Josh’s mom, this sweet Asian woman, sitting on a blanket and I said hi. I loved that this wasn’t just a high school reunion—this was a family affair.
Wu-Tang came on stage around 10:30pm and Evan and I moved up and bounced around with what felt like a mountain of people—all in disbelief this wasn’t a dream. Evan sang every-other word along, with his arms around my waist. We were solidly in junior high now, in our fantasy. We were wearing jeans that “sagged” and were going out after the school dance together. We were definitely going to break curfew.
Ghostface Killah asked if there was anyone who could represent Jackson and rap the parts of Inspectah Deck, Method Man, and ODB on “Protect Ya Neck.” Evan and I immediately looked around for Josh (aka Wu-Saeng), but before we knew it, he was already on stage. I wondered if he knew the group—if this was planned or something. He did not know the guys. He just knew that he had this. What happened next was so awesome. I… can’t… just… here:
Josh comes on and raps Inspectah Deck’s part perfectly. And then after that, he takes on the other boys’ parts when they fail to deliver Method Man and ODB’s raps. Never send a child to do a middle-aged man who was raised on 36 Chambers’ job. (Josh retells it on his own IG here.) It was incredible. In that moment, I felt a part of Evan’s high school crew. I was so proud of this friend I didn’t know I had. I was in awe—so happy his mom and so many of his friends were here to see Wu-Saeng rapping on stage WITH Wu-Tang at a concert in JACKSON HOLE, WYOMING. Like, what is happening???
If you didn’t make it to the end of the video, after the song, Ghostface kept Josh on stage.
Ghostface: My man’s name is Josh!
Josh: I’m from this motherfucker. I grew up here! I bought this hoodie in 1996 off the back of the CD.
Raekwon: Ladies and gentlemen, this shit is not easy.
Ghostface: What neighborhood are you from?
Josh: Rafter J? I’m from Rafter J!
😂 Jackson doesn’t have boroughs. In 1996, approximately 7500 people lived here. (the population of Staten Island in 1996 was approximately 400,000.) Rafter J is a neighborhood south of town—walkable to nothing, but still very much a part of Jackson.
Wu played one more song and we reconvened with Evan’s high school friend at the spot where all our chairs, blankets, and backpacks were. Josh wasn’t there yet, so we just all stood, shaking our heads, with our jaws dropped, saying to each other, “That was so awesome. Saenger KILLED IT.”
Our friend Pat said, “This is the best night of my life” and we all laughed. Josh came up to the group and I felt like a dorky fangirl… right back to my natural state. We had a thousand questions and praises for Josh, but we also had to keep moving, because getting in line to download on the gondola is the biggest pain in the ass for shows at Snow King. (v first-world problems, I know.) In line, two of Evan’s friends kept saying, “Do you know who this guy is? He was just on stage! He should go up the front of the line!”
In the gondola car down, the night was gorgeous and the mood was vibrating. It was Evan, me, five of Evan’s high school friends, and Josh’s mom. We were all still so high from the excitement of Josh being on stage with Wu-Tang.
Me: Josh, that was seriously incredible. Were you nervous?
Josh: No, I used to sit in front of my boombox and play that album over and over, rapping along to it.
Me: But still! You did it like you were a member of the group!
Josh: Eh, I knew the lyrics! It was no big deal!
We were all in such disbelief. It WAS a big deal. I made the dorkiest comparison of how if the Spice Girls pulled me up on stage, I would still freak out when it was time to recite the Sporty Spice section of “Wanna Be.”
You have friends who achieve their dreams, but it usually comes with some kind of lead up. And I know that Josh’s life is filled with longterm, planned out dreams, but this felt like beautiful kismet. Lightning in a bottle. Perfection. You can’t help but be in awe of the beauty of a dream like this. You wonder what all your friends’ childhood dreams were. What they rehearsed over and over in their bedrooms, in the quiet privacy of secret wantings. And you hope to god you get to see them come to fruition some day.
As the gondola car descended into town, it felt like we were coming back to adulthood. For one special night, thanks to Wu-Tang, we were able to be kids, surrounded by fellow kids.
After Evan and I hugged everyone goodbye, we decided we didn’t want to stop being high school kids yet. On our walk home, we stopped by the gas station to get treats—something really only high schoolers do. (to be fair, it was so late. there was no restaurant open.) I got a bag of jalapeño chips and a fountain Dr. Pepper. Evan got a king sized Reese’s. Children.
We walked home through alleys and empty streets, arm in arm, not really talking—just like shy high school kids on a date, trying to figure out if they’ll kiss at the end of the night on the doorstep. To break the silence, Evan simply said, “That was so awesome.”
I laughed and nodded, “Yeah, it was.”
I couldn’t wait until the doorstep. I leaned over and kissed him.
Jam Of The Week: Jim James – Come Again.
(arguably, the opposite of Wu-Tang, may I present My Morning Jacket’s Jim James with some solo work that softly gets stuck in your chest. this feels so reminiscent of Richard Swift and it makes me so happy.)If It’s Rap You Want.
(this mix-tape is ah-mazing. also, I cancelled my Spotify account… I feel like I’m ready to pull the plug on so many art-destroying assholes. but I do owe y’all [paid subscribers aka angels on earth] like a billion playlists, so I’ll probably still export those to Spotify.)Have You Read This Essay About Single Mom Sex??
(I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. at first I was like, ‘get it, girl!’ but her constant talking down about people, partners, places is so… icky. I think moms should be sluttier in general and get their gets where they want—unabashedly. maybe I just can’t relate to a millionaire who is way cooler than me… even if we are both moms. maybe that’s the point.)This Guide On How To Stay Married Made Me Happy.
(now THIS is relatable.)Style Goalz.
(the older Sedaris gets, the less relatable he gets. but lord knows I’d be so much more annoying and weirder if [when] my writing makes me a lot of money.)How To Be A More Difficult Woman.
(this is fantastic. please add your recs.)So Stoked For This Book.
(Seattle represent!)Really Into The Prints At This Shop.
(I keep finding sets of three that would represent Marcelline, Evan, and me.)Ha!
Ahhhhh… Two music essays in a row? I must be missing a music journalist time in my life or something. Thanks for letting me play. Thanks for being here for this. So many writers I know are having a hard time wriiiiiiting right now and I GET IT. I went to bed so grumpy the other night, because I felt like all my writing was shit. But that’s life, right? Sometimes it just doesn’t click? I hope life is clicking for you in some way.
xxo,
Rachel.
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