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tamara's superfreak, superfreak, superfreakin' day
by tamara
Thursday, November 20, 2003
In what universe do you find yourself prompting Rick James, cheering him on when he actually gets his own lyrics right?
Yesterday I was working on a music shoot in Harlem featuring the one and only Rick James. Braided hair Rick James. Crack pipe Rick James. Superfreak Rick James.
Except for the whole “celebrity” thing, it was pretty unremarkable at first. The crew got to the studio early & set up a few hours in advance. I got there a little after to take some notes on the shoot. It's usually not a very stressful day.
Rick (James) arrives. He puts on his crazy ass clothes. He gets a ton of make-up. We keep hearing that he's about 5 minutes from being ready. Finally, really is ready to come out to the stage. He has his people send us out a last minute request: he needs cue cards right now.
For a sketch? No. For, SUPERFREAK. Rick James does not know the words to his hit song played at barmitzvahs, superbowls, discos, etc. People who don't even want to know the lyrics to this song know the lyrics. Old ladies know the lyrics. Kittens know the lyrics. Rick James does not.
The entire production comes to a halt. We're still not quite that he'll make it onstage, anyway. He's kinda out of it. But all of a sudden, he won't perform without the words in front of him.
A minute later, I am sitting on the groud, scrutinizing all 7 verses of Superfreak as only someone who has to write every last word in giant block letters would do. It becomes of the utmost importance not to confuse my "YOW!"'s with my "OW GIRL"'s (one goes in the middle of a stanza; one goes at the end). At the point I'm quickly writing, "SUPERFREAK, SUPERFREAK, SHE'S SUPERFREAKIN'" it all becomes too much. Really, how can you forget this? I think how proud my mom would be to know that I'm using my english degree to write out "SHE'S A VERY FREAKY GIRL."
I'm now standing 5 feet away from Rick James, holding my handiwork, flipping the cards to the beat. This is becoming more and more funny to me, but I can't laugh. He's standing right there. I think of the Beatles needing cards for "Hey Jude." But then there he is, with a lot smoke around him, lip-synching every single Superfreak I've written.
In what universe do you find yourself prompting Rick James, cheering him on when he actually gets his own lyrics right?
Ow girl!
see tamara here
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