Waiting on Lil Wayne

At White River Amphitheatre in Auburn, KUBE 93 Summer Jam looked like a party in a parking lot on Sunday.

Inside the gates, there was a complete confusion of KUBE listeners waiting for Lil Wayne and strutting their stuff: fat, thin, black, white, Asian, Latin, young, old, un-cool and super-cool. Dorky kids with braces trying to act grown-up next to sexy girls and their tough boyfriends (who were trying just as hard as the dorky kids to look cool but were way better at it).

Seattle rap group Dyme Def was hanging out at their booth near the stage, selling T-shirts and handing out free "mixtape" CDs.

Like many inside the gates but not inside the concert, Dyme Def's crew members were vendors, here because it would be commercially irresponsible to have no Summer Jam presence. They were committed to a long, hot day of business. There are brands to build after all.

There were a ton of booths on the boiling blacktop behind the stage, all blaring different rap music and advertising area artists, clothing lines, etc.

At Summer Jam, basketball shoes were normal shoes. Short pants were long pants on guys, underwear on girls. T-shirts were long. Polo shirts were, too, and had lots of bright stripes.

If you had the ability to shave creative designs into your hair, you did and were showing off.

The air was charged with sexuality, from the poster advertisements for "naughty" social-networking sites, to what some people were(n't) wearing, to the content of the artists themselves.

Lil Wayne, the headliner, is platinum on the strength of "Lollipop," an entendre that has him explaining "She wanna lick the wrapper."

This report was filed right after Ray J did a set all about sex, the subject of both his current radio hits, "Gifts" and "Sexy Can I," and Bow Wow strip-show chair-danced all over a plus-sized audience woman.

Both of them became famous as kids but now project a changed, adult image.

Basically that means they can make songs like fellow Summer Jammer T-Pain, songs about and designed for substance use and sexy parties.

The sound quality at White River was uniformly horrible, mostly gargantuan, stomach-rumbling bass hits. There was no mid- or high-end.

Any melody in a track was gone, reduced to shouts or sustained yells. From far back on the amphitheater grass, it sounded like muffled, pounding Morse code.

Plus, the first sets began at least an hour late and rumors swirling through the crowd suggested there might be more delays through the evening.

Pat-down searching was enforced and barbed wire surrounds the amphitheater.

Nothing says "party" like barbed wire, right? No matter. Summer Jam has a particular party culture, and people don't need cues to know what to do: get hot, sweaty, sexy, and rap along to Lil Wayne.

Andrew Matson: 206-464-2153 or amatson@seattletimes.com

EXCERPTS FROM

THE BLOG

Andrew Matson blogged live from White River until the end of the show Sunday night. Here are some early excerpts. Read the complete blog at seattletimes.com/festivalblog.

1:32 p.m. — Summer Jam Begins

Backstage, I spoke with Diana (24) and her sister Allison (14). Diana won tickets to KUBE 93's "Backstage BBQ" from a call-in radio contest, and brought her sister, a 9th- grader at Kent-Meridian and huge Lil Wayne fan. Diana said she brought her sister because "Nobody else likes Wayne like I do except her." Allison said Wayne is her favorite artist performing today, but she's also excited to see Bow Wow.

... People are on blankets on the grass at the back of White River Amphitheatre. Lots are standing on the smooth concrete right in front of the stage, waiting for pop star Ray J to come out and sing songs about videotaping sexcapades.

Me? I'm excited for The Game, one of the only rappers out actively trying to put the whole West Coast on his back and resurrect that classic gangsta vibe from the early '90s. Of course I'm excited for Lil Wayne, arguably the best rapper alive (I say no but admit he's in the running). Both artists have obnoxious face tattoos and strict agendas: The Game will have the audience throwing up "dubs," "W" hand signs for the West Coast, and Wayne will convince everyone he is a crazy-smart Martian.

3:39 p.m. — Overheard at Summer Jam

"That lady just pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her bra."

"Ell. Oh. Ell. Yeah, menthols."

—

Last weekend I smelled Banana Boat at outdoor concerts. Today, it's Hawaiian Tropic.

I hear screaming. Is it Ray J? Bow Wow? No, false alarm. There is a rumor that everything is running an hour late.

6:09 p.m. — Bow Wow

I hate his music and think his raps are beyond simplistic, but at 26, I'm too old to listen to Bow Wow anyway. He worked the stage as hard as he could, running its length, jumping all over the place and making eye contact. Often, he sat on the stage's edge and close-up fandom erupted. He's a real entertainer, and went the extra mile to connect with this Summer Jam audience.