I’ve made my fair share of bizarre comparisons and analogies, but I think this one may be one of the strangest, but it makes so much sense. Friday’s trip to Coachella was like when you thought or believe that Cory Kennedy is the coolest. Where as Saturday was the point that you realized that Cory Kennedy’s twin sister, Chris Kennedy is probably cooler cause she looks nerdy enough to geek out over Large Professor remixes. Granted I may have not met any of the girls from Gods Girls
[NSFW] but I got one of their beach balls, but for the most part, day two at Whoachella was close to perfection.
Although, it should be noted Friday night ended on a downer note as we returned to our condo to discover the power went out during the night. I think it was payback for me earlier that day yelling at Dora the Explorer. I’m sorry but she can be really condescending and well, as my man, Alec Baldwin would put it, “a rude little pig.” She just stares at you even though you answered her question and everything is like, “Wow, really?” I don’t know how it’s beneficial to the youth of today. It’s going to take them like five minutes to answer simple questions like, “Do you want a free boost with that?” and every body is going to be a smart ass and yell, “Great!” after every answer.
Perhaps it was the electrolyte packets give to me by the people in the first aid tent, who at times seemed more stoked on the fact that one of their fellow first aid peeps went out and picked up some t-shirts for them then actually helping people out. But I felt renewed that Saturday morning. Not fully back to normal, but as normal as I could be after about 7 hours of sleep and a delicious egg scramble. As much as I don’t want to admit it but the key to Whoachella success is fairly simple: First, stay at a place that is fairly close to highway 111; that stretch of land is your best friend at midnight. And secondly, leave early.
On Saturday, we didn’t want to nor did we need to be there until like 3 o’clock to catch Hot Chip. In theory, we could have another leisurely lunch and maybe take a few laps into the pool, but we left at noon cause traffic the day before had been so awful as well as the whole searching your bag process the day before. Thankfully we left early because the Indio Police department still to this day does not know how to direct street traffic. I don’t mean to repeat myself, but what kind of crazy drug scene is going on in Indio the rest of the year that prevents these guys from learning how to do their job. There wouldn’t be stories on the local news about how an evil rock music festival terrorizes local residents and forces them to stay in doors. We were driving down one street looking to make a right turn, but it’s blocked off, so we had to drive down the street make a crazy left turn through heavy, heavy traffic and swing back around, so we could straight ahead, you know. But of course, the traffic cops now decide to let people make a right turn and we can’t go straight. I just don’t understand how this happens every single fucking year and they never ever seem prepared for it to happen. Do they just assume that maybe this year will be the one-year where nobody comes? If anything traffic is going to be worse for Stagecoach this weekend cause country fans like to drink and drive trucks. I’m not saying that they do it all at the same time, but I believe there’s enough country songs out there to indicate that it probably happens all too much.
Anyways, getting there early, allowed us enough time to get through security, drink about four or so bottles of water and just hang out in the shade and check out kids who were there with their parents. I saw a mother who was forced to wear a bandana around her neck as if she was a hipster. Yet on the other end of the spectrum, there were these Oompa Loompas from Beverly Hills High. These short, well dressed and I assume to be wealthy girls running around just creating all sorts of havoc and distraction. Coming to the show in their dad’s land rover with their friend sticking her legs out the window and putting sunscreen all over them then running through sprinklers. Or they shove their way to the front of the stage during the middle of Hot Chip’s set, only to leave after like two songs. What the fuck? We know that you’re short and cute, but there’s no need to interrupt our groove because of it. Get on my level and get to the tent early and deal with the annoying guys from Australia who happened to run into fellow Aussie during the show and the guy smoking a cigarette about 5 feet down the way. We don’t care that you’re holding hands with a girl who has hair like the girl from “The L Word” or that you’ll use your big fat gay friend to knock us out of the way. Go to the back and arrive early next time.
People can be so frustrating at times and to make matters worse, I had to do a presentation on Monday about an article in my stress management. The article was about seeing the innocence in people and if you view people with compassion, your frustrations will disappear. Yet as I was doing this particular presentation, I thought bullshit. Come to Coachella deal with these assholes and tell me, Richard Carlson, the author of the article, if you can find the compassion in these duffers.
I did manage to find compassion in the people who were selling food and water though. Yeah, 8 bucks for a teriyaki bowl, a little too much. But we live in America and America is a supply and demand society. They had the supply and we had the demand.
So, if you must know, I decided to go it alone and see Ghostface. Much to my surprise, there was probably like four thousand kids behind me. As much as I liked Ghostface’s set, I just wish that there was a little more too it than J-Love hitting buttons on the instant replay machine and the audience doing a Wu Tang sing a long. I thought it was funny when Ghostface talked about how he saw Cameron Diaz.
Hot Chip was great and totally blew it for Peter, Bjorn & John. Peter, Bjorn & John in comparison to Hot Chip, at first was so slow and just boring. I thought about bailing, but right at that moment, they played the hit song, which was good, then the rest of their set was good. You know, they actually played songs with a lot of energy as opposed to doing stripped down, special numbers. It should be noted that the dudes outnumbered the women at Peter, Bjorn & John which put my theory to shame.
I saw like two seconds of the Decembrists and thought they were really wimpy. This was a point of contention for the rest of the weekend. Basically me against my friends. Maybe I was meant to be a jock or something, but the Decembrists just seem too intelligent for me to enjoy. I can’t appreciate an accordion solo and clever and witty lyrics when I listen to music. And it’s not like I can’t enjoy slower tunes, I live on a musical diet high in Neil Young and Will Oldham and Joanna Newsom, but their music doesn’t scream out, “Nerds” to me. All right, maybe Joanna Newsom a little, but The Decembrists make me feel like I’m Ogre
to their Lamar Latrell
. Maybe if the Decembrists add like Kerry King to their band, then maybe I could get into it.
Justice, for me, was the best thing about Coachella. I had seen the Ed Banger Rec. crew DJ a month or two ago in New York and it was a lot of fun, but as DJs they didn’t blow me away. If anything I left bummed cause Justice didn’t play “Phantom.” Yet as I walked into the tent, my ears were greeted by the song, “Phantom,” which still is running neck and neck with “What A Job” as best song of the year. I can’t explain it but Justice just really brought it and had an amazing set. It was incredibly awkward dancing while holding onto a beach ball, I’ll tell this much. Justice was complete and utter opposite of the Decembrists. Justice was more metal than Mastodon.
Then there was James Murphy. I shouldn’t even have to say anything about James Murphy and LCD Soundsystem. They were great. The new songs sounded great. The old songs still sound amazing. Sure, I would’ve loved to hear a “Beat Connection,” or “On Repeat,” but I’ll gladly take dancing underneath a disco ball with a bunch of strangers to “All My Friends” while wondering where exactly are my friends? I knew that they were in the tent with me, but exactly where? I couldn’t tell you at all. I saw “Human Giant” star Aziz Ansari jam out to “Yeah,” the dude was slamming his hands on security gates. It should be a sketch on that show, Aziz jams out. As I leaving the LCD Soundsystem, I ran into a couple of the girls from Coachella ‘007 Y’all
again and they asked if I was going to watch the Rapture. I said no because I just saw LCD Soundsystem.
So, that was Whoachella ‘007. Friday were d’evils, but EL-P & Bus Driver came through with solid material. Saturday was pure genius. Sunday was gear shopping at the outlet mall while harboring feelings of regret for missing Rage, Explosions in the Sky, Air and any other random cuties. Also regret about not taking people up on their offers of a late night pool party. I probably wont do it again next year unless, you know the Smiths are playing or they get the Beatles back together. I’m talking original line up Beatles. Or as I suggested on Saturday to a friend, who now believes that I’m in a quarter life crisis cause of this particular request, but get like the Misfits or Danizg to play the hits. Who doesn’t love “Hybrid Moments”?
Also, have you picked up your copy of the films of Alejandro Jodorowsky box set yet? Get on the fucking trolley and skate over to Best Buy.
Another thing, did you hear the news that Emmanuel Lubezki is going to be the cinematographer on the new Coen Brothers' film? Is it weird that this the only thing that I want to write about? I love Emmanuel Lubezki's work and all, but what happened between god amongst mere men, Roger Deakins and the Coens? Their cinematic marriage is one of the greatest; on par with De Niro & Scorsese, PT Anderson & Philip Seymour Hoffman, Preston Strugees & his cast of bit players.