Coachella 2009 - Day Two - 4/18/09

I awoke around 11am, after maybe six hours sleep, completely exhausted. A part of me dreaded what lay ahead, which of course reads ridiculous when compared to the grand scheme of things and the difficulties many people face, but at 41 and in that moment with my recuperative powers and access to stimulants no longer being what they once were my body wanted more time in bed over trekking back to Indio.

My wife, Senora Bicho, drove us to Coachella, but traffic heading out of Orange County was brutal because that freeway is the main route when heading out of town to Las Vegas or “the River.” Those first 30 miles took way longer than they should. If it was going to be this bad the whole way, it could take four hours to get there. Quitting seemed like an option, but once we hit Corona, traffic cleared up and the freeway home was clogged. Halfway there, we pulled over to grab a bite to eat in the city of Colton at a Subway. The Senora pointed out how tired I looked and I did feel wiped out. The bed continued to call, and with no one I felt compelled to see, I considered it, but we had gone this far, so we soldiered on.

Once we got there, Amanda Palmer, the female half of The Dresden Dolls, was introduced in the Gobi Tent by way of a group of Coachella attendees, who in sports-fan fashion, had letters painted on their backs that spelled out “Amanda Fucking Palmer.” Joined by a cellist, she delivered her plaintive, introspective songs that seem better served listening to alone during sad moments in your life, yet the group catharsis of sharing the music and emotions worked well.

Henry Rollins spoke to those under the Mojave Tent, regaling them with tales of his travels to Vietnamese killing fields where the citizens take comfort in the fact they beat the big, bad Americans and suggestions of his own Middle East Peace Plan in which the Israelis and Palestinians would be bombed with albums by The Ramones, Curtis Mayfield, and George Clinton. Since nothing else has worked, it wouldn't hurt to try it. He implored the audience to travel the world, meet the people in it, and work together to take control from the people screwing it up.

As we headed over to the VIP area across the grass field, Michael Franti was leading Spearhead on the main stage as they offered up a tasty helping of their hip hop/funk/reggae/rock stew. Zeppelin and AC/DC riffs snuck into the arrangements. Franti thanked everyone for spending the day with the band. Once inside, we found ourselves sitting next to David J, whose work in Bauhaus and Love and Rockets I am a big fan of. While sharing that information may have been appreciated, I left him alone and instead attempted to surreptitiously take his picture as a background object in a photo of the Senora.

We headed back to the Outdoor Stage to grab a spot for Fleet Foxes, TV on the Radio almost made me stop due to the intriguing, upbeat rock sounds they were creating from the main stage. Also along the way was a very odd art installation entitled “Hand of Man,” where a user places his hand in a device that works a large mechanical hand that can pick up a car; the meaning and symbolism are still unclear.

The soothing harmonies created by Fleet Foxes under the setting sun were almost enough to quell my thoughts about the surrounding cigarette smokers not dying soon enough from cancer, which is saying something considering how little I care for my fellow man and their selfishness. We sat back far enough so that we could lounge in our legless chairs, but it turned out to be too far back once Thievery Corporation took the main stage because their music crept into the mix.

Luckily, we had planned to leave anyway to catch soul legend Booker T. backed by the Drive-By Truckers. We walked up as “Green Onions” filtered out of the Gobi Tent, and discovered it was maybe half full. I shouldn’t have been surprised, yet I still was at the lack of respect and limited musical history of my fellow Coachellans. Their loss. Booker and the band closed with Outkast’s “Hey Ya” and an instrumental of “I Can’t Turn You Loose,” made famous as the adopted theme for The Blues Brothers.

That now left us at a crossroads. We had an hour before anything we were interested in (The Chemical Brothers, Jenny Lewis, Mastodon) was going to start and still at least two hours to get home. Knowing there was going to be a long day ahead on Sunday and with the Internet now allowing for a partial recreation of the Coachella experience from the comfort of your home, that’s where we headed.

We got back home in time to catch the last hour of The Killers’ set on the webcast. They did a serviceable job if you enjoy their music and the fans seemed happy when they were cut to, but The Killers following McCartney was an impossible task and made them seem like they didn’t deserve the headlining spot. Their musical influences are too obvious, and I get removed from the music as I unconsciously identify them. Fireworks accompanied both “Mr. Brightside and When You Were Young” and the set was over online by 12:10am.

I have seen a few short clips of Chemical Brothers and they looked to put on a mighty fine dance party, although I haven’t found a bootleg, so who knows if they were able to keep it going for their entire set. Jenny Lewis was carried on the webcast the following day and she and her band sounded pretty fantastic. She played alone on acoustic guitar for “Silver Lining” and followed with “Acid Tongue” where a chorus that included Conor Oberst joined her. Mastodon performed Crack The Skye in its entirety. I have been unable to find an audio bootleg, but clips of the entire performance can be found at YouTube thanks to tamaman08. Even with the inadequate audio, you can tell they rocked the Mojave Tent hard. I would have stayed if I had closer accomodations.

Coachella 2009 - Day One - 4/17/09

Most people shouldn’t concern themselves with having too much lead-time getting to the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. The roads of the desert city of Indio aren’t prepared for the massive influx of the concertgoers, which this year topped 160,000 over the three days, the second highest in the event’s 10-year run. Obtaining a parking spot a long walk away is just half of the battle because many attendees need to pick up their tickets, and the lines for the ticket windows were a mess this year. On Friday, lowly hung signs that couldn’t be seen from the back of the lines told who was supposed to be where, yet after waiting a half hour in line, some discovered they were in the wrong place and had to start over. Even the Coachella staff wasn’t much help as I was sent to the wrong line to pick up my tickets. Luckily, my +1 for the day, my tall, high school chum Al, who came along to see Paul McCartney, spotted the sign and got me in the right spot.

After securing our entrance, I ran across one of the few people who should have been concerned about having too much lead-time: a young man passed out and carted away by the EMTs. Who knows what was wrong with the man, but the weather was only about 90 degrees, and in this setting he likely succumbed to the amount of partying he was doing, but damn, it was only four o’clock. Too early in the day to pass out cold and not even make it in the gates. He either partied very hard or had a limited tolerance. Either way, he perhaps learned the valuable lesson of pacing.

The first band we caught was Airborne Toxic Event in the middle of their set on the Main Stage. They had this dark, moody vibe that was odd in the daylight, but still appealing. They brought out a string quartet and played their hit “Sometime Around Midnight,” which the small crowd enjoyed. Because of our delayed entry, we only gave ATE about 15 minutes and headed over to see The Hold Steady, another of the many bands this weekend I only knew by name but wanted to check out.

As we approached the Gobi Tent, I was digging the melodic indie pop that pulled me in. The music flowed in waves that would build big, recede, and then take off again. The crowd was clapping and dancing along. Then I looked at the stage line-up sign and discovered I was actually enjoying Los Campesinos! I was torn about what to do next: should I gamble or stay where I was already happy? Because I find festivals best used to discover bands rather enjoy ones you already know you like, we rolled the dice.

The Hold Steady are no frills rock ‘n’ roll band, who appear to just want to play music and have a good time. Their gravely voiced singer has a tone reminiscent of a young Randy Newman, and they have this great “working man’s band” vibe that the only thing separating them from the audience is the stage. With the right songs striking the right amount of people, I could see them go big time like early Springsteen and the E Street Band, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they maintained a level of activity that keeps them from getting real jobs, yet not always on people’s radar except for the most devoted fan like the Bodeans or the Smithereens.

The hot weather naturally caused some ladies to wear very little, and throughout the afternoon Al and I exchanged pertinent information where to direct our gaze (“Quick! Over there in the blue.” “The blond over your left shoulder.”), but some caused consternation for a 41-year-old when you see their young faces and realize your friend has a daughter that age and what you're thinking is illegal in some states. Although if I had a jury of my actual peers, I’d be in the clear.

We headed over to the Main Stage where the blues-rock duo The Black Keys was going to play. We cracked out our chairs on the grass and took in most of the head-bob inducing set, during which the occasional aroma marijuana wafted by. The drummer Patrick pounded the skins so hard it’s a surprise he didn’t bust them. Before the set was over we headed over to the Outdoor Stage to grab a spot for Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band. A lot of ladies were excited he was going to play, shouting out their love for him before he even hit the stage. The organ is the main instrument that fills out the arrangements. It’s interesting that Oberst is top-billed because other band members alternate as lead singers, so they appear to be one group rather than a backing band. Dylan comparisons are too easily thrown around a lot when discussing musicians, but it has properly been applied with Oberst as this band reminds me of Dylan backed by The Band. Some songs also reminded me of Jackson Browne.

In preparation for the night ahead, Al and I had a few Heineken Lights and a slice of pizza in the beer garden while Franz Ferdinand performed an enthusiastic set with glee and abandon on the Main Stage. When the guitar started up on their breakout hit “Take Me Out” midway through their set, it was greeted by loud cheers and had many singing along. Towards the end of the set, they created a drum circle.

When the sun set, it got cooler, and not just in temperature as Leonard Cohen and his band took the Outdoor Stage. They wore matching suits and hats and started the set with “Dance Me to the End of Love.” The set might have better suited for a small, smoky cabaret, but it worked under a moonless sky as Cohen crooned his deep bass voice. The crowd was unfortunately obnoxious as people couldn’t stop talking around us, making me wonder if they were just grabbing a spot for the next act as people filled in the empty gaps in the audience throughout Cohen’s set. One idiot kept yelling at a guy a few spots in front of him to take off his hat.

Morrissey played the Main Stage and opened with “This Charming Man” and played a few other Smiths songs throughout his set, creating a one-man reunion of the classic ‘80s band that is likely the most fans are ever going to get. His voice sounded in fine form. Before “Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others,” Morrissey, the well-known vegetarian, stated, “I can smell burning flesh and I hope to God it's human,” generating a number of “What the?”s from the crowd. He then walked off stage before the song ended, and his band looked perplexed. He returned and informed the audience, “The smell of burning animals is making me sick. I just couldn't bear it.” I was able to smell was he was referring to, but he soldiered on. He took his shirt off to the delight of some men and women, and threw it to the crowd, although he couldn’t make past the security area. The only problem during the set was the bass coming from the Do Lab stages were distractingly loud.

Before Sir Paul McCartney took the stage, at about 9:50 a DJ began spinning remixes of Beatles tunes. McCartney was scheduled for 10pm but came out 20 minutes late. He opened with “Jet” and “Drive My Car.” He then played a couple of songs from his recent albums and then returned to known territory with “Got to Get You Into My Life,” during which very odd-looking CG of The Beatles appeared on the video screens. It didn’t match the pacing of the song, but I believe it was later revealed they were part of the upcoming Beatles Rock Band.

During “Let Me Roll It,” McCartney played guitar and concluded with a bit of Hendrix’s “Purple Haze.” They also covered Big Joe Turner’s “Honey Hush,” which McCartney said was a song from his youth. He moved to piano and after “The Long and Winding Road,” he announced the day was rather emotional for him because it was the anniversary of Linda’s death, which tugged at the heartstrings. He dedicated “My Love” to her.

During a solo performance of “Blackbird,” security had to carry a fellow out who eyes were rolled back in his head. McCartney admitted to missing some notes and chords because he was reading audience signs. It was impressive that he confessed because he didn’t have to. One sign asked for his pick, but he said he needed it. He then dedicated “Here Today” to John.

He then performed some obscure solo songs to the casual fan. When the video showed shots of the audience at this time, they looked lackadaisical. The technical director cut away quickly. Much of the video presentation was surprisingly poor. The video displays on the side of the stage throughout the performance while extremely large were quite narrow, so they revealed very little at one time, and when they cut in for a close-up of the hands playing the cameraman couldn’t keep them in the shot, although he likely wasn’t trying. During the Wings’ song “Band of the Run,” the video screens behind the band featured Beatles footage, which seemed an odd choice.

McCartney strummed a ukulele unaccompanied during the opening of George’s “Something” and then offered the deep album cut “I’ve Got A Feeling.” “A Day in the Life” segued into “Give Peace a Chance.” McCartney then finished off the set on the piano with “Let It Be” and the James Bond theme “Live and Let Die” that was augmented into a magnificent spectacle with flames and fireworks. Would have been made for great ending, as McCartney with a deserved grin of satisfaction. He then went into “Hey, Jude” and turned it into a big group sing-along. It was so joyous it was surprising we all didn’t join hands.

With the clock after curfew at around 12:15, with reports promoters had to pay the city $1,000 each minute over, the band took their bows. As some people started to make their way out, it was curious that the stage lights never came up and roadies were scurrying around, but not packing up. Then they came out to encore with “Birthday,” “Can’t Buy Me Love,” and “Lady Madonna.” They left again and surely that was it, but McCartney came out alone at 12:33 and played “Yesterday” on guitar, an obvious emotional end point. Then the entire band returned yet again for “Helter Skelter,” driving away any exhaustion a member of the crowd might have. It got to the point where as much fun as I was having I wanted him to stop because of the two-hour drive I had ahead of me. McCartney didn’t care and fired off “Get Back.” To my amazement people were still getting high at this late hour. Ah, youth. The band finally concluded with “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)” and “The End,” taking their final bow at almost 1am (and strangely made no mention of Ringo throughout the night).

It took about an hour to get back to our car and drive the five miles to the freeway because the roads were a mess. Unfortunately, the traffic cops sat around collecting their overtime and talking to each other, rather than stopping people from driving all over the road and cutting each other off. We arrived home after four in the morning. I already knew Day Two could be brutal.

Coachella 2008

El Bicho's adventures at Coachella are detailed in three days.

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

COACHELLA
Day One:4/27/07

The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival has kicked off the summer music festival season. While nitpickers may point out that summer doesn’t officially begin until June 21st, those of us who experienced the 100-plus degree temperatures know better. This year, the eighth time it is being held, the event has expanded to three days. Many people wisely took advantage of the on-site camping, which was probably the smartest move for concert-goers who were attending more than one day, as the logistics were a nightmare.

Although I have read horror stories about traffic by those who started their journey too late, I had no problems getting to town about 11:45am. I hung out with some people I had met on the Coachella forum, who lived about two miles away. I headed over about 1:30pm and got into the lot off of Monroe and 52nd around 30 minutes later.

I was disheartened to see the parking lot empty of traveling vendors selling their wares, and very limited amounts of people partying. It couldn’t have solely been the heat, but I didn’t notice a heavy police/security presence so I’m not sure what the issue was. I will have to wait until some other event to pick up that t-shirt all the kids frying will be mesmerized by and the cryptic bumper sticker that only Spreadheads will understand.

Part of the reason might have been the huge lines to pick up tickets. There were a few booths with very long lines. I heard people complaining of having to wait almost three hours with no shade of any kind, just to pick up their tickets, and that doesn’t count the security check. Next year, and for anyone attending next weekend’s Stagecoach event at the same venue who haven’t purchased tickets yet, pay the $2.50 to print the tickets.

The last issue I have dealing with entering the facility is that on the event’s website it stated “NO Outside Food & Bev,” yet at the gate I discovered I was allowed to bring in unopened water bottles. Considering it was over 100 degrees, that information might have been important to pass on to the attendees. However, they were good enough to only be selling 16.9 fl. oz. bottles for $2 when they could have got more. There was also a promotion that encouraged people to bring back 10 empties in exchange for a full one, but some people dug through the trash and threw it around to fill their quota.

The festival had five stages of music, two large ones and three under large canopies. In between were all sorts of art projects, food stands, and information booths. Aside from the official Coachella vending tables, there was not much else to buy. While there were alcohol sales, $7 for a Heinken, the drinks could not be removed from the “Beer Garden.” In those areas people could see and hear through the metal fences, but as a grown up, it was disappointing. Plus, it only encourages attendees to get wasted before coming inside, particularly on long-lasting drugs.

The first act I caught was Terry Mullen at the Sahara tent, a DJ who was playing some driving beats and had a good visual display run by a team of people on computers. He had a small group up front feeling what he was doing, but most in the back just seemed to be taking in the shade, which was the greatest commodity of the day.

Moving on to the Mojave tent, The Noisettes were a rockin’ trio out of London led by bassist Shingai Shoniwa whose voice has a great melody to it. She sings rather than scream like other girls fronting similar groups. She easily could sing jazz standards if she chose. At the Gobi tent, the Comedians of Comedy started the day. It seemed like an odd choice, but Zach Galifianakis had the crowd laughing, especially when he went to the piano and offered up amusing thoughts as he plinked out a tune. At the Outdoor Theatre, apparently the creative team didn’t know “Kalahari,” bluegrass band, or “progressive acoustic” as they refer to themselves, Nickel Creek sounded great on one of their last remaining dates before they go on an indefinite hiatus.

Frequent Coachella performer Perry Farrell took the main stage with his new group Satellite Party, playing songs from their upcoming album. They combine the hard rock sounds of Jane’s Addiction and the world music explorations of Porno for Pyros and his solo album, most notably on “UltraPayloaded Satellite Party.” “Wish Upon A Dog Star” had a great funk bass groove to it. “Insanity Reigns” had a fast raggedness, a controlled chaos, that worked well. They even delivered a version of Jane’s Addiction’s “Stop” to the delight of many in the crowd. The band sounded good, especially Nuno Bettancourt who seems a capable guitarist to handle Farrell’s aural vision.

Unfortunately, what totally detracts is Perry’s wife, Etty. She is a “back-up singer,” but comes off a cross between a stripper and Linda McCartney. She looked a tad ridiculous running around trying to keep her breasts from falling out while she was dancing around, apparently unaware that her skimpy outfit is why her breasts were falling out while she was dancing around. She was a total buzz-kill.

Next up, was the simple beauty of the bluegrass/old time music of Gillian Welch & David Rawlings. They wore matching rhinestone outfits and I walked in on them covering the Cashes’ “Jackson.” While an event like Coachella has a alternative music feel to it, it was refreshing to see the audience so into Welch. Among the songs they played were “Look At Miss Ohio” and “Elvis Presley Blues.”

On the same stage and with a very quick turnaround thanks to the small amount of equipment used by Welch, soul singer Amy Winehouse followed. She was backed with a horn section and two back-up singers that gave her music a reggae vibe at times. She asked if she could have a drink, sure to continue the gossip about her. When I could longer take the two fat, sweaty guys rubbing against me, I made my way out of the tent to discover that Amy had been placed at too small of a stage. I had to fight my way through the throngs outside the tent because so may people packed the area.

Art was a big part of the events as well. In between there were a number of installations to view and appreciate. One art installation that captivated a great many people was a number of rows of lights on strings coming out from a center pole forming a sphere. They alternated color and different patterns. It was the best piece there. Other pieces included a long-winding tunnel of multicolored fabric where a small meditation circle was at the end, and a Chinese dragon made entirely of balloons that paraded through the crowd.

On a raised platform, a performance art/dance troupe pranced around to Middle Eastern-sounding music, dressed in odd tribal costumes. Part of their improvised routine involved shooting and spraying water into the crowd, which had to be a reason for their audience in the late afternoon.

One way to beat the heat was a tent called “Recharge and Relax.” They pumped the place full of air conditioning. There were free computers all over the place and they offered free charges to cell phones.

DJs played inside of a large jungle gym where colored gels were in sections on the top. As I passed by at one point I heard Tones on Tail’s “Go,” while later I caught old standards from the ‘30s or ‘40s, which drew me inside. The DJ appeared to have a Victrola mic’d up. I never got a good look at the gentleman because of the hat and feather boa he wore, but I believe it was David J from Bauhaus and Love and Rockets.

The Arctic Monkeys took the main stage while the sun was setting over the mountains and the temperature was perfect. The band was having a good time, and their energy infused the crowd, which was getting larger. More people were standing and squeezing together, a combination of the current act and the ones to come.

While Sunday’s Rage Against The Machine reunion has getting most of the buzz in the press, the reunion that created a great buzz on stage was the feedback-drenched, Reid Brothers, better known as Jesus and Mary Chain. They sounded fantastic playing many of their hits to the delight of the large crowd and certainly played one of the loudest shows of the day. Jim asked the crowd, “Are you having fun?” When he got an enthusiastic response, he came back with his trademark feistiness, “Well let's see what we can do about that!” Celebrities were spotted throughout Coachella, but none was more noticeable than Scarlett Johansson who joined JAMC on vocals for “Just Like Honey,” a fitting cameo as the song played during the end of Lost in Translation. The band performed a new song, which sounded good and is an encouraging sign they will continue past a reunion, and closed with “Reverence.”

Back over at the Sahara tent, Benny Benassi was spinning a great set and had the audience on its feet, including girls dressed like animals and a guy with the pacifier. It was another great visual show and there’s something about nighttime that adds to that music. Over in the Mojave tent, Peeping Tom put on a rockin’ hip-hop show if that was more your flava. The crowds there were dancing with their hands in the air.

Jarvis Cocker started late and played a shortened set due to equipment problems. To my surprise, a lot of people were still walking in at 9:20. Not campers, but people just arriving at the show. I know the $90 to $100 ticket prices were comparable to 2.5 hours at other concerts, but with all there was to offer it seemed surprising considering how much was missed.

I headed out early to beat the traffic, which was a good thing as I later read some people complaining that once the show closed, it took two hours just to make it to the freeway. If you can handle the logistical problems, the afternoon heat, and about 60,000 people in one place, some of whom have no idea how to clean up after themselves, Coachella is a great place to see bands you love and to discover new ones.