7:15 pm. I arrive at Big Bridges, ready to gyrate and bounce for hours.

7:19 pm. I notice the metal detectors being used at the door.

7:20 pm. I drop my flask off at Smiley and rush back to the line, miserably sober.

7:30 pm. Finally, after a mild frisking, I enter the lobby and prepare to Get Down.

I'd been looking forward to this concert for weeks - 30 bucks is a lot of money, but these bands were worth it. My roommate bought the Black Eyed Peas' new CD in anticipation of a good set, and I already liked De La Soul's musical library - the dozen MP3s I had Napstered. And Wyclef, oh Wyclef. I had enjoyed the Fugees album when it came out (when was that, 1987?), and The Carnival (Wyclef's first album) had essentially changed my life. The mˇlange of Jersey hip hop, latin rhythm, and French rap that didn't suck blew me right out of the water in a very good way. I recently picked up Wyclef's new album, The Ecleftic: 2 Sides II A Book, and suffice it to say it rocks. Who else has the cojones to collaborate with Kenny Rogers, The Rock, and Whitney Houston on one album - not to mention covering Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"? Most artists would lose their focus with such disparate influences, but Wyclef makes it work, and work well. I had heard that his live performances were underwhelming, but I couldn't turn down an opportunity to see him play on campus.

7:25 pm. I found my seats. Balcony, third row center. The Black Eyed Peas were playing as I showed up, and I immediately noticed an exceedingly awesome horn player backing up the vocals. Just as I started to get into their set, though, they stopped. I guess the opener for the opener for Wyclef doesn't get much time. But hey, they were good.

7:45 pm. De La Soul came out to contained but enthusiastic applause. They played a number of songs that shared several characteristics: good beat, flowing vocals, and total unrecognizability. I'm sure that I'm to blame for some of this, since I don't own any of their albums. But it sounded good, and they got the crowd into it by pitting one side of the arena against the other ("The party's over here! Fuck that side, the party's over here!"). They played a few songs I knew, too: "Ooh" and the answering machine song, and "Me Myself and I." They played a solid hour, and I enjoyed it.

8:45 pm. I decided that I wanted to be closer to the stage for my man Wyclef's set, so I braved the sea of drunken undergraduates and found my way down to a cozy aisle seat halfway down the auditorium floor.

9:15 pm. The auditorium darkened and a video screen illuminated, depicting Wyclef's DJ in front of his turntable. He played a wide variety of hip hop records and displayed his considerable abilities, mixing and scratching from a number of bizarre positions with dexterity and speed. The video screen then switched to a strange low-budget scene that showed Wyclef and crew on a dinghy, trying to get to America (I guess). As the scene ended, with Wyclef wading through the water toward the beach, Wyclef came on stage dressed in a fairly comical pink suit. He walked up to a microphone at center stage, and the bassline for "No Woman, No Cry" began to play. As the crowd cheered, Wyclef started to sing. Instantly, I was impressed. His voice was really good. CD-quality good.

After the song, Wyclef said something like, "I'm going to be honest with you. I'm not feeling the vibe tonight." He proceeded to decry the oppressive student security guards, who had been keeping aisles cleared and generally Keeping Us Down. He said that the people in the crowd, who had been standing in front of their seats, were "too conservative" and commanded us all to rush the stage, security or no security. A drunken mob generally reacts positively to such orders, and our CMC-heavy horde was no exception. Five minutes and thousands of minor acts of violence later, aisles were stuffed and chairs were used as plush ladders. It was great.

Wyclef, clearly heartened by our primal screams, played a medley of Fugees songs. Everyone knew many of the words and yelled them out along with him. After quenching our Fugees thirst, Wyclef played a bunch of songs, mostly his own stuff but a number of covers, too. Although he had a number of "nobody's perfect" moments while trying to demonstrate his guitar prowess, he had really good stage presence and the bravado made up for the standard live show imperfections. Wyclef performed his hit, "Gone Til November," but changed some lyrics so that he referred to marijuana. I don't know why, but a lot of students liked that. Over the course of the evening I got to hear many of my favorite songs: "It Doesn't Matter," "911," a weird version of "Guantanamera," using a guitar lick from La Bamba, and a whole ton of other songs.

After about an hour or so the show's atmosphere changed - Wyclef's DJ started spinning some albums and Wyclef chose a few kids from the crowd to come up and freestyle with him. Wyclef went first, and he was pretty good. He likes to say things like "I'm Wyclef" when he is stalling but he can rhyme and still make sense, so that was good. The kids then took turns; they were all very good, except for the Eminem wanna-be who came on stage with a major attitude because he'd spent three days in prison. Wyclef mocked him. A very big bleached blonde guy from backstage, I guess from Wyclef's entourage, grabbed the mic. Suddenly the crowd was hit with a barrage of Christian mythological babble, crotch-grabbing, and (I can't believe I heard this) something about having intercourse with an angel's halo. The crowd, stunned, stood in near-silence with gaping mouths. That was weird. Anyway, Wyclef had his DJ keep playing popular records one after another, working the easily-influenced crowd into a legitimate frenzy of uncontrollable youthful energy. Then, as we were all mere moments from spontaneous combustion, Wyclef called for all the "B-boys" in the crowd to come onstage. He pulled a few men, and a woman, up to the stage and they took turns breakdancing and gyrating and generally contorting.

11:10 pm. Someone told Wyclef that he had to stop. Something about a "curfew." Wyclef finagled an extra 20 minutes out of the authorities and proceeded to kick it up a notch. The DJ put on House of Pain's "Jump Around," and all the white kids went certifiably wild. There was jumping of all kinds, most especially "around." The block party went on for 20 more minutes until it was time to go. Apparently Wyclef made a deal with somebody saying that he could play 80s music for another half hour while trying to encourage girls to get on stage and disrobe, because that's exactly what happened. Unfortunately, the only girl brave enough to do so got pulled offstage mere moments before her undergarments were removed. And then it was over, and I made my way home.

It was a hell of a show. Worth my money and time and the approximately three liters of water I lost sweating in a seething mass of frenzied students.