Fatboy Slim's Cream of the Crop Y2K Gig

Worldwide, there were plenty of rock & roll events designed to ring in the new millennium, but in Liverpool, 25,000 punters got their groove on with the world's DJ elite -- a coterie that included Fatboy Slim, Orbital, Paul Oakenfold, Sasha, Darren "Underworld" Emerson, Dave Clarke, Justin "Lionrock" Robertson and Seb Fontaine -- at Cream 2000, a party named for the city's famed techno club.

Early in the evening, Britain's band of the moment (U.S. translation: who?) the Stereophonics, as well as Space and the Lightning Seeds, entertained revelers, but by the time Oakenfold hit the stage shortly after 10 p.m., the only reminder that the rock bands had been there were their beer-hound mates slogging up suds in the VIP tent and shouting about how they got into the $125-dollar event for free.

Like a televangelist special, all hands were in the air in the big tent as former Cream resident Oakey pounded out tune after tune and slurped up the adoration. Next on was electro powerhouse Orbital, who rang in the joyous New Year with "Chime" as the clock struck midnight. Meanwhile, in the Bugged Out arena, Sasha masterfully took the crowd through the progressive house and trance sounds that he pioneered. His millennium moment was a remix of Pearl Jam's "Better Man," during which audience exchanged sloppy hugs and kisses.

It would have been the ultimate star-studded dance event if Underworld had been coaxed onto the bill, but all was not lost when their own Darren Emerson wowed us with a lush, dreamy set that included favorites like "Cowgirl" and Pete Heller's "Big Love."

Back outside the tent on the docks, current Cream resident Seb Fontaine was working out a dark, sexy set. Justin Robertson then spun some fat and funky cuts before the ever-intense techno lord of the rings, Dave Clarke jumped on the decks back at Bugged Out.

At 4 a.m., the irrepressibly peppy Fatboy Slim appeared in his trademark Hawaiian shirt, and, at one point, a smiley-face mask. He bounded around the box churning out a big-beer-boy tribute to himself, but people were so "off their trolleys," as the Northern Brits say, that nobody seemed to care -- who really has control of reflection and reasoning eleven hours into a fourteen-hour event?

Only one person managed to get himself arrested for trying to sell ecstasy to Merseyside police. And the onsite paramedics handled the exhaustion cases so well that only a handful made it to the local hospital. And at 8 a.m., Cream 2000 came to a close underneath a picture-perfect blue sky.

JOLIE LASH
(January 4, 2000)