So by now you've seen the Madonna-Gorillaz performance at the Grammy's on Wed. Holograms of the animated band rock-stared it out above what looked like a crumbled curtain, but what was, in reality, me and a bunch of 20-year olds who were chosen to play club kids passed out after a night of heavy everything. De La Soul came out and did a little rap around us, before heading off stage, then a Madonna hologram appeared and shook her ass a bit before running stage right where the REAL Madonna emerges from the other side of the stage and performs her hit, Hung Up. If you look at the feet of Madonna hologram you will see a head in profile, that is me. Only two people said they spotted me, but I was excited when my friend called Wed. night and said "I saw you! You just moved your head!" I saw it today and you could barely make out that we were human. A major news publication referred to the duet as "the most confusing opening act ever." They got it wrong. It kicked ass, though I will agree that our presence lying around the stage confused even us. But the stage designers for the Gorillaz had pitched me and the other 20 kids something else. What we got was the Grammy bait-and-switch. The initial email said we would play dress up around the stage, in full costume and make-up, then we'd be able to hangout backstage and watch the Grammy's from a seat. Of course, we all jumped at the chance. Then things changed...When we got to rehearsal we became club kids, no longer moving around a stage, but passed out, and the day of the event, we were referred to by everyone as "dead people." Even our Grammy room plaque read "Gorillaz: Dead People" (we joked saying we found the dead people thing very offensive, and someone in charge felt bad and sharpied over it "club kids" and later a prankster scribbled the word "krak" before it. The day of the show we were told we COULD NOT watch the full dress rehearsal, and we would NOT have backstage access. The kids were crushed and upset. We weren't getting paid, at this point they hadn't fed us, and we'd wasted two days (some of us three days) of our lives. A few of the kids ripped holes in the black fabric that turned a sky box into our dressing room, and were content to peer out to watch the backs of performers during practice. Not us. I had met three kick ass chicks who came prepared. The Grammys had handed us the cliched lemons and we were about to make sweet lemonade...
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