dB team leaves Coachella with plenty to write
Coachella, taking place in scenic Indio and featuring scores of
bands on four stages, was this spring’s biggest music
festival in Southern California. Naturally, dB was there to give
you the best coverage of the event.
Saturday 4:25 p.m. While negotiating the several-miles-wide
parking lot ““ not to mention the line of thousands waiting to
enter the festival ““ the dB team can hear the end of
N.E.R.D.’s set. Before breaking out into
“Lapdance,” lead singer Pharrell Williams informs the
crowd that they’d “better lose (their) minds on this
one.” Still not inside, the reporters can only guess at the
crowd’s compliance. 5:15 p.m. The Hives ““ in between
bouts of silly, self-aggrandizing banter and audience polling (e.g.
“Who here likes The Hives?”) ““ play a great set
of pure, fast rock ‘n’ roll, the perfect opening to the
festival for the late-arriving dB reporting team. Jack
White’s got nothing on them. 6:00 p.m. Endless technical
problems and the worst live Mick Jagger impression this side of,
well, Mick Jagger these days conspire to ruin the vaunted live
performance of the otherwise-excellent Vancouver ensemble, the Hot
Hot Heat. Some in the crowd express the desire to punch the lead
singer in the face. 7:10 p.m. Talib Kweli makes a shout-out in
remembrance of the late Nina Simone, and the set is appropriately
spirited. Flying solo, Kweli only adequately captures the attention
of the massively sprawling crowd, but the wordsmith’s rhymes
are, as expected, impeccable. 8:15 p.m. Funnel cake is delicious.
The dB crew makes this crucial discovery while waiting through the
longest line for gyros that the world has ever known. “This
had better be the best damn gyro I’ve ever eaten,” said
one reporter nearly 40 minutes later as he took the first bite and
then was heard to mutter, “You got lucky this time.”
9:40 p.m. Boasting the most visually impressive performance of
mediocre cover songs these reporters have ever seen, Blue Man Group
provides a wildly entertaining, if somewhat musically
uninteresting, show. Reporters laugh at candy kids with pacifiers
on drugs. Ha ha ha. 10:45 p.m. Though operating under the
misconception that this band was, in fact, The Libertines, the team
enjoys the brilliantly loud, dub-influenced electro-funk of Groove
Armada. This is where the party is at. The crowd rocks out in-kind.
11:30 p.m. Having somehow gotten themselves invited to a far cooler
party than they had any business attending, the dB team mingles
inside a small club just outside Coachella’s Empire Polo
field and watches the beautiful people dance to an incredible set
by Felix da Housecat. Open bar, baby!
Sunday 3:05 p.m. The team prepares for Coachella in the parking
lot while listening to one columnist’s famed mixtapes. Deaf
to the efforts of his companions to prevent him from contracting
SARS, one editor proceeds to eat broken pretzels off the grass.
5:15 p.m. Halfway into the group’s crowd-rousing set, the
members of Sonic Youth break into the song off their upcoming
seven-inch split with Erase Errata, called “Mariah Carey and
the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream.” The song (as well as the rest
of the set) is as ridiculously awesome as the title. 6:40 p.m.
Primal Scream’s set is abrasive, deafening, lovely. A far cry
from the easygoing Madchester stuff that propelled them to the top
of the British music scene, the group is content to plug in their
guitars and tear up some eardrums. 7:50 p.m. Those without enough
illicit substances inside themselves to dance to the ever-jittery
and disorienting DJ set of Mouse on Mars, stand around confusedly
with IDM blaring through the speakers. Those with enough illicit
substances appear to have a blast. 8:35 p.m. With trepidation, the
team enters the Sahara tent (read: candy raver central) for the
first time to see the world’s greatest live electronic act,
Underworld, make its appearance. Ever-hopeful reporters look for a
reunion with ex-Underworlder Darren Emerson, who performed the day
before. It didn’t happen, but the set was intense enough to
keep the packed crowd completely hypnotized. 9:10 p.m. The main
stage hosts the first-ever reunion of the canonical Detroit
proto-punk outfit Iggy and the Stooges. The crowd finds Iggy
having, perhaps, lost a step but still performing with the
incredible stage performance that made him a legend. The classic
songs couldn’t help but please the appreciative crowd. 10:15
p.m. Team members, with their socks adequately rocked, decide they
have no pressing need to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers nor the
grossly overrated Interpol. Instead, they get a jump on the
traffic. So, with the sun having set on another successful
festival, the writers pile into their station wagon accompanied
only by the sounds of aluminum cans rattling around in the back,
they think of Coachella; they think of the memories; they think of
Coachella.
