i went to coachella. here is a dramatic retelling of what happened
One word: Coachella.
Here's the story.
Two platinum blonde babes head to the high desert around 10 am on April 30th, 2005. In the trunk? Two cases of water, a loaf of raisin bread, 2 boxes of granola bars, a huge carton of goldfish crackers, three fleece blankets, one comforter, two pillows and a tent. Oh, and a random assortment of clothing and a couple of pairs of shoes. Are they prepared for camping at a weekend-long music festival? You be the judge.
They stop along the way past Palm Springs off the 10 Freeway. The local In-n-Out is crawling with indie kids- boys with black hair and tight jeans, girls with buddy holly glasses. Ah yes, this is who will be appearing live a few miles away in Indio, CA, at Coachella Valley Music Festival. The blondes are giddy with excitement. They are almost there.
After driving around three parking lots, asking around 100 parking attendents where the hell the parking for on-site camping is, they decide to go ahead and park. They get to the campsite, begin to set up. One pulls out the tent. There are no poles. She asks the other if their mutual friend gave her two bags, one for the tent, the other for the poles. Nope, there was only one bag. There are no poles. Anywhere. They ask fellow campers, they ask the 'Camp Counselors,' they ask the skeevy guys at the "General Store." There appears to be no tent poles anywhere. So they sit on the tent, instead of inside. Numerous perverse boys claim that they would gladly 'erect' the tent with their own 'poles' which wasn't funny the first time, and certainly wasn't funny the fifth. So the two blondes decide, what the hell, let's just go hear some music.
Saturday was more of a scoping day, dabbling in awesome bands such as M83 and The Kills. They wander aimlessly along the desert acerage which is actually lush grass, and thankfully only 85 degrees. They head to the main stage for Weezer, which rocked hardcore, since Weezer busted out with some of their classic songs, such as "The Sweater Song" and the "Buddy Holly" song. The real treat came after Weezer, in the Mojave tent: Bloc Party.
The more cynical of the two blondes, the one whose blog you are currently reading, had been avoiding Bloc Party because of the hype. What band ever lives up to the hype, really? Well, Bloc Party does. For those that are reading this (Mo, Chris, listen up, you will LOVE Bloc Party) Bloc Party is dance, post-punk disco? If that's even a genre. They are awesome, and the two blondes dance the set away and decide they want to kidnap the adorable, black haired, skeletal lead guitarist.
They retire after the Bloc Party set, deciding to forgoe the main headliner, Coldplay. It isn't until now that one realizes they missed Spoon, but she digresses. One nice thing about leaving the party before anyone else, they did not have to suffer the shame of climbing into a tent with no poles in front of anyone. But there are numerous comments by passers-by which include "Oh, my God, are there people in there? Oh my god, there are!!" and "Oh, I can get your tent up" and various laughs. Luckily it did not get too cold that night, and the two didn't suffocate.
In the morning, they wake up entirely too early. A shocked camp counselor nearby claims he didn't realize anyone was actually in the tent. They decide to strike camp early, to avoid any further questions. They drive into Indio, and find an awesome eatery called "Beer and Burgers" that, yes, is open for breakfast that sunday morning. It is in a castle. Yes, Beer and Burgers looks like a castle from the outside. Thus the basis of its appeal. After a mediocre breakfast (but about 15 cups of coffee) they head to Angel Thrift: For Crippled Children, an AMAZING thrift store off Jackson street in Indio that is open on Sunday mornings. One shockingly finds not one but two totally rad pairs of cowboy boots, an awesome necklace, and the Rocky soundtrack on vinyl. How cool is that? They spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon hitting discount superstores that aren't found in LA such as Wal-Mart, K-Mart, and Payless.
They head back to Coachella around 3, and go inside. Today there is no dabbling, today they have a plan. The hit the outdoor theatre to catch Fiery Furnaces who play their entire, awesome, set nonstop. The drummer is the most animated drummer they have ever seen, and has totally rad style. They want to kidnap him for the supergroup that is now forming in their heads: them as the two leads, the guitarist from Bloc Party, and the drummer from Fiery Furnaces. They now only need to be Yoko's for two bands... well within the realm of possibility. they head to the main stage for a bit of The Futureheads and Gang of Four. Neither of which impressed them that much. After that dabbling, they head back to the outdoor theatre for a set that makes everything worth it: The Arcade Fire.
If you should ever get the chance to see The Arcade Fire preform live, even if you don't particularly like them, go. You will never see a better concert. Ever. They do not put on a show, they put on a spectacle. Richard Reed Perry is crazy, climbing up scaffolding, donning a racing helmet, all while banging on drums, playing the accordian and helping Win Butler belt it out. The strings are onstage, and singing while they play. Regine sings beautifully and plays various instruments. There are about 10 members onstage at all time, all trading instruments, all giving it their all, all putting on one HELL of a show. An experience to be remembered.
Glowing in awe from the excitement of The Arcade Fire (and after sneaking a peak of Mr. Oberst off side stage watching The Arcade Fire) they head to get some food. They have about an hour and a half to kill before their big finale. They watch New Order for awhile, in awe of how awesome they are as well. They vow to buy a plethora of CD's once they get back to civilisation.
They head back over to the Outdoor theatre, weaving their way to the third row-ish. There are die-hards in front of them who wont budge. British Sea Power come on, put on a good enough set, try to replicate Richards daring scaffolding climb to no avail, and leave. Then the crowd starts to get crazy...
The Faint is coming on, and tensions are running high in the front rows. People start to push, people start to move... The natives are restless... Then the Faint comes on and it's all over. The blondes get stuck in the raging dance pit, giving in to the dark, dance electronic and rock tinged beats of The Faint. Though the blonde who now writes this never really appreciated The Faint all that much, she finds herself wrapped up in the experience, being pushed and shoved and forced to dance. She cant feel her feet touching the ground, and is thanking god she wore her cowboy boots. There will be bruises tomorrow, but this is just too damn good to pass up. Though she fears someone, maybe even her, might pass out...
After the set, she expects people will calm down. Au contraire. the crowd surges forward, as Bright Eyes is closing this Coachella. She gets caught in the fray, her friend moves back and she follows. It takes her a good ten minutes to get out of the human pile in front, resigning herself to the fact that it's just not worth it to be that close. And anyway, she was front row center for the last Bright Eyes show. She knows what Conor looks like up close. Bright Eyes plays a good set of songs off Digital Ash in a Digital Urn. He even plays a long time favorite of hers, "Neely O'Hara," which is beautiful live. He finishes with her favorite track off the Digital Ash CD but for the life of her she cannot remember what the title is. She thinks its "Arc of Time." anyway, the lyrics are: "The arc of time, the stench of sex the innocence you cant protect, each quarter note, each marble step walk up and down that lonely treble clef...an arguement for conciousness the instinct of the blind insect who never thinks not to accept its fate, thats faith, theres happiness in death..." well that's just an excerpt, but you get the point. Its a good day. And a pretty good ending to a great weekend.
They drive back to La La Land, hitting home at 3 in the morning. The next day is depressing, after hearing amazing music all weekend, the shock of being back home is very great... The blonde vows to make the rest of the summer as good as this kickoff. She has a lineup of some notable shows:
Tilly and the Wall and Of Montreal, June 3rd two blocks from her house! Bright Eyes/The Faint, June 14th, five minutes from her house! The Go! Team, July 21st, at the Troubadour! Only 500 people in the venue!
And certainly more!
And they all lived happily, musically, ecumenically, ever after.
The End
dear 23-year-old me:
you will stop going to concerts when you move to the bay area. this is very sad. but it is expensive in SF, and no one ever plays more than one night. you'll bemoan 100USD tickets. your friend will throw out a good rule of thumb - never spend more on tickets than your age.
some of the bands you were convinced were going to make it big, didn't.
you listen to basically all the same music. thank you for making it good.
you won't set foot in amoeba san francisco. there is something sad about it, and you can't figure out what it is. you'll make a point to visit amoeba hollywood whenever you're in LA.
the bright eyes show you saw at the theatre in LA, where you were in the front row, does NOT, in fact, end up your favorite show ever. that doesn't come until 2011, when you drive down with your friends to see him at the hollywood forever cemetery. remind me to tell you about it sometime.
you'll eventually get over yourself, and the crushing abyss of your early 20's.
you'll eventually get a "real" job, complete with health insurance, a 401K (but you don't contribute, of course) and paid time off.
the thought of ever, ever going back to coachella is pretty much your worst nightmare.
i love you, 23-year-old me. you were awesome, even though you had no idea.
love, betsy
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