There aren’t many bands that get to THAT level; the point where every time they take the stage, it’s not just a concert. it’s an event. For the past couple of weeks, there was a buzz (err. a low murmur) around campus about last Thursday’s Red Hot Chili Peppers show. GW doesn’t even get that amped up for shows at the Smith Center. But when the Peppers plugged in at the Verizon Center, it was plain to see what all the fuss was about.

A sold-out crowed hurried into the arena to get a glimpse the flash-in-the-pan du jour, Gnarls Barkley. The overwhelmingly high-school aged crowd flipped their emo haircuts out of their eyes and begged that one friend with his older brother’s old ID to give them “just one sip of beer, bro.” Alliteration aside, most of the audience could not have cared less about Gnarls, and the shame is. it showed.

The 20-40 year olds that comprised the rest of the audience seemed to have a somewhat better appreciation of the opener’s soulful set. Yet, they were noticeably taken aback when the band came out dressed as the cast of Austin Power’s, with Cee-Lo starring as Dr. Evil and Danger Mouse as the International Man of Mystery himself. They even came out to “Soul Bossa Nova”, the delightfully annoying theme to the film.

Even though Cee-Lo Green, the hefty lead singer, could fill up half of the arena himself (with his on-stage energy. of course), their sound wasn’t quite cut out for a venue the size of the Verizon Center. This is a problem that nearly every band struggles with, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Rather, it meant that they needed to work twice as hard to capture the audience.

And work they did. The poured pure energy and soul into their microphones, only to be met with blank stares. Attendees gazed back at the band as if they were dressed as the cast of Austin Powers or something. Oh. wait.

As the bass drum began to kick and Cee-Lo announced that they were going to perform “the only reason he’s rich and famous,” the dormant crowd began to stir. Doctor, come quick! I think we’ve found a pulse! But even the energy defibrillator that is the Top-40 smash “Crazy” couldn’t save the audience from their paralysis. Their decision to not play their meal-ticket song as the last number seemed to be a little “up yours” to the crowd, as if to say “we’re more than you give us credit for.” Unfortunately, at that point all the high-schoolers in attendance were already texting their friends to make after show plans at the McDonald’s across the street.

Gnarls delivered one more dose of musical epinephrine before officially reaching the time of death. The audience actually cheered louder at the mention of the Red Hot Chili Peppers name than they did for the whole Barkley set.

They did play a very, very good set that unfortunately fell on deaf ears, for the most part. They failed to win the crowd, who clearly belonged to the Chili Peppers. I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this. They were brave and held on as long as they could, but there was nothing we could do. They didn’t make it. We’re going to need you to go down to the morgue and identify the body. It should be easy to spot. it’s the half- ton black guy dressed as Dr. Evil. you can’t miss him.

It was abundantly clear from the length of the t-shirt line (a consistent 14 people deep and 26,482 people wide) that the Red Hot Chili Peppers would have no problem capturing the audience. When the lights dimmed, Flea could have come out by himself and played the Rocco’s Modern Life theme song on kazoo and gotten the crowed more pumped than Gnarls Barkley did. But then again, concert-goers didn’t spend 70 dollars of their parents’ hard-earned money to see an opener.

A recently short-haired John Frusciante and the rest of the band came out to lay a sacrifice before the Altar of Hendrix, doing his best to channel the Guitar God. And Jimi saw the offering and found it fitting. and in doing so, decreed, “Let there be Anthony Kiedis.”

The front-man could not have had a better reception even if he really was a gift from the Heavens. As Frusciante began to play “Can’t Stop,” Kiedis pranced around the stage like a sugared-up eight year old who doesn’t QUITE realize how awkwardly he dances. However, it became very clear very quickly that this show would not be just a greatest hits session.

The impatience of the crowd could actually be felt as the Peppers played two or three song sets of relatively under the radar, yet splendid tracks, including one of the band’s favorite covers, “Havana Affair” by the Ramones. Meanwhile, Landon from the lacrosse team mumbles to his other very underage friends, “What the hell is this?”

In between songs, the boys in the band would break out into fantastic jams that even hinted at Go-Go Legend Chuck Brown. While it is very rare for such a big name act to attempt to make a local music connection with the city he’s playing in, the musical tribute to D.C. was lost on the crowd, most of whom had probably only been to Southeast once. on a dare.

The reactions from the high-schoolers were absolutely precious. Uh oh. another track from before 1995. We should probably all sit down. Maybe this would be a good time to smoke that joint that your public school friend got from a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. After all. you DID pay 35 bucks for it. but it’s okay because he swears it’s good shit. Enjoy the oregano, Cody.

Oh. thank goodness “That Heyyo Song” came on (actually called “Snow”). Poor Tanner was almost getting bored.

Little Ashley looked absolutely disturbed when the rest of the band left the stage, as Frusciante performed a solo acoustic version of “How Can I Tell You” by Cat Stevens, easily one of the most memorable, and beautiful, moments of the night.

The Chili Peppers delivered a set wrought with energy, in which the music seemed to actually come to life. Not surprisingly, the moments that the crowd got most excited about were the hits, perhaps the dullest points of the night, musically at least. It only makes sense. A band can only play a song so many times in so many different cities before it becomes a chore.

Perhaps the most priceless moment of the night: Chad Smith (looking as much like Will Ferrell as humanly possible) tossed up a drum stick, ever so far from his reach. The 45-year-old extended like an outfielder, and in doing so, fell ass-over-tea-kettle into his drum kit, almost destroying his entire rig. You just can’t write stuff like that.

Apparently some people’s level of obnoxiousness doesn’t subside after high school. Watching young hipsters getting creeped out by overweight, over-intoxicated, open-shirted 47-year-olds dancing like it’s going out of style is one of the funniest sites on God’s green Earth. A close second is the twenty-something Capitol Hill junior staffer, blasted drunk, walking.err. falling UP the stairs on his 42nd trip to the men’s room. Oh no. I think he ripped his Hugo Boss sports coat, but it looks like his Banana Republic Jeans are okay. don’t worry.

Basically, everyone made fools out of themselves, especially the nerdy reporter sitting down, feverishly scribbling in his notebook by the light of his cell phone.

As for the show itself, John Frusciante’s guitar was absolutely on fire, Chad Smith’s drumming was completely average in every way, Flea’s bass was mind blowing, and Anthony Kiedis’ lyrics were. well. random words strung together in loose sentence form. C’mon. we all know they don’t really make any sense, which is probably the biggest joke played on the music community since Milli Vanilli. Really? People honestly think this guy is deep? Someone actually gave him a deal for a poetry book? Seriously?

All in all, the night was filled with high energy music brought to life by funk infused jams. During these moments the unspoken connection between the group, especially Frusciante and Flea, was obvious. The Red Hot Chili Peppers proved last Thursday why they’ve been selling out venues for over twenty-years now, and they’re not showing any signs of slowing up anytime soon.