Supertwang

It was “Supertwang or bust”. Then it turned into Supertwang was a bust. As far as the line up goes, festival promoter Hal Royce apparently had some strings to pull and was able to reel in a lot of talent to the Bonnaroo-like festival held on private farmland in Speedwell, Tennessee, he just couldn’t pay them. Nor could he pay the Campbell County Sheriff’s Department or the event staff among others. There were rumors circulating through the crowd of people, some of which had been camping since Wednesday, but we all knew something was going on when the Coors Beer vendors packed up early Saturday afternoon after the talents of Jesse Watson, who wrote the Supertwang them song, and an exceptional performance from up-and-coming Southern Rock band Bush Hawg. One event staffer commented that there was a problem with the beer license. It was strange though that one of the prohibitions of the concert was no outside alcohol as they would have their sponsor Coors Beer and other beverages to sell. Many decided since they weren’t going to sell it the deal was off and went on their own B-double E- double R-U-N. Our suspicions were confirmed as we saw singer Matt Stillwell’s bus drive right on through. One thing was for certain, though, Supertwang was abandoned and was up for adoption. The festival was foster parented by Matt Dylan & Most Wanted and Kathy Ross as well as local bands 1 Foot Down and The Parrot Brothers. We heard patrons and security alike saying that Confederate Railroad and Rhett Akins also wouldn’t be performing. Supertwang needed a forever family. We saw a man at the mercantile tent and he was selling Van Zant t-shirts and merchandise and had a Lynyrd Skynyrd tattoo on his forearm and backstage passes hanging on his neck that said ‘family’. I asked him if Jimmy would be playing because we had heard otherwise. “Bull [explicit]. We’re on at 6:30,” he told me and sold me a shirt. At that, our hopes were restored. The first thing Supertwang’s official adoptive dad, Lynyrd Skynyrd original, and Southern Rock legend Jimmy Van Zant said onstage was, “They told me I have ‘til 7:30, but I’ll see if I can push it ‘til 8.” With his signature bare feet, Van Zant gave the growing crowd the show we came to see. And, yes, it is true what they say, if you chant, “Free Bird,” Van Zant will sing it. “[Van Zant] made it all worthwhile,” said one patron, though, understandably, many patrons were very upset. Local law enforcement and Tennessee Highway Patrol joined forces with neighboring counties and beefed up security in anticipation of an uproar at the turn of events. They held a little powwow to inform them what exactly had happened and make sure everyone was up to, um, ‘Speedwell’. They also discussed the best course of action which according to one officer, “I told them to let you all camp until [Sunday]. We just couldn’t justify making everyone leave, especially those of whom who have been drinking. It’s better to wait until [Sunday] when everyone was planning on going anyway.” The officer also commented on how they were actually surprised at the simply calm reaction, aside from a few interviewees getting their faces on the local news about getting their money back, that even they loosened their gun belts a bit and enjoyed the entertainment by Van Zant. He and his band members milked it as long as they could before the crews blew the whistle and absolutely had to take down the stage. After “Free Bird” Jimmie went to the back of the stage and came back up and said he was given the go ahead for one more song. He asked if we were having a good time to which we all screamed and yelled and he said, “There it is. I just got paid.” He then started “Sweet Home Alabama” and turned it into “Sweet Home Supertwang.” As if it weren’t enough that Jimmie became Supertwang’s Big Poppa, he and the band members stuck around, came back out and signed our shirts and pictures and even the rear ends of some britches. Even when it was finished, it wasn’t finished. The only uproar there was on Saturday night was that we could have our own Supertwang and didn’t need a stage to do it. What had happened didn’t steal our joy but rather inspired us to do a little of our own twang thang. So there it was and there we were, breaking out the tiki torches and old guitars. The students had become the masters as the Twangees became the Twangers.