So I Know What Time It Is, Bro

Many years ago a friend was working at The Hilton hotel in Melbourne and ran into Public Enemy's Flavor Flav in the lift. Despite being off the clock, so to speak, Flav still sported a large timepiece around his neck. When asked why he responded 'So I know what time it is, bro.'

Indeed.

Public Enemy are pretty regular visitors to Australia, and last night I saw them for the first time at The Esplanade Hotel in St Kilda. I saw part of the gig, anyway, as the over-crowded venue full of drunk, hip-hop tourist tough guys quickly became unbearable and we quit while we were ahead.

New Year's Day gigs are invariably attended by those who think the new year should be celebrated over several days, not just one. Hell, just carry on from Christmas - you're already drunk, eh? I'm open to you celebrating any way you like so long as you can still a) stand up without falling on me and spilling my drink and b) co-exist in the same crowded space as other humans without losing the plot. Sadly, last night The Espy was chock-a-block with tools who don't know when to quit.

Nana-rant aside, Public Enemy are something to see. They were late on stage. Very late, in fact, but I'll let them off given they'd played in Brisbane earlier in the day. And they do have to travel with Flav, which is undoubtedly like trying to herd a deranged cat.

I've watched a lot of roadies over the years, but Public Enemy's crew looked like they had never set-up for a band before in their lives. Every few minutes yet another all-in-black dude would appear from backstage, wander around touching various pieces of equipment and then disappear again. Meanwhile over a thousand people stood jammed together in mass of sweating, drunken anticipation waiting for the kick-off. When an older roadie in an ill-fitting shell suit and wearing a bum bag started 'inspecting' the roof with his handy flashlight I realised that my career path actually looks alright.

Finally two men in military dress march onto the stage, signalling that the wait has ended. They perform a little marching and saluting, then stand near the front of the stage. From time to time they sing a little back-up, but mostly they survey the crowd and glare at anyone getting a little too close to their crew.

DJ Lord began and Flavor Flav appeared in an Eskimo coat. The crowd went berserk. He stripped off the coat to reveal the clock, the gold teeth and the Flavor we savour.

In the last couple of years Public Enemy have taken to playing the entire album It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back live and in order. He announced this was tonight's playlist, and a wicked concept, and as they launch into track 1 the room heaves.

There is a particular breed of gig idiot that is almost unavoidable. These people have no notion of personal space or gig etiquette (which essentially says this is my 20 square centimetres of space, go find your own and get out of my rib cage). By the time we got to track four the girls I was with were more than a little nervous about the crowd and the venue was quickly exposed for the small gig venue it is. More and more people were cramming into less and less space and the vibe was becoming nasty on all fronts. We left, which is a real shame, because Public Enemy were brilliant live and everything I hoped they would be.

The venue and the crowd, however, killed the joy.