Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Coachella 2008 by guest blogger Debz

The following is what Debz did over Coachella weekend after she abandoned me to a life of toil in the press tent.

Why do we live in the desert? For the wind? the sand? the 120° summers? No. We live here because once a year one of the greatest music fests in the world comes to town – Coachella - and it friggin' rocks.

Three days of hot sun, stinky sweat and awesome bands. And of course, the people watching. Last year there were many more groups dressed in themes (such as the speedo dudes who supposedly made a repeat appearance). I saw some in Native American headdresses (funny from a distance but annoying if you're stuck behind them in the audience) and some with shirts that had their names on the back and on the front said "Have you seen Fred?," or someone else from their group. The concept is funny if you've been to a ginormous event like this (about 50,000 people a day) where it seems impossible to catch up with your friends (thank goodness texting worked much better than last year). But that's half the fun – with five stages going from noon to midnight, you're undoubtedly gonna wanna see at least a few different bands than your friends. That way you can get back together and mock them for missing the best show of the day.

And it's fun to run around the giant art instillations with friends. There are interactive ones like the Sonic Forest that consists of columns that emanate different sounds when you wave your hand in front of them and the fun Parabola with tons of hanging instruments (see Maggie blowin' hard below). Others provide good shade like the giant Bamboo Waves, the Copper Droopscape and the Steampunk Treehouse with a central climbing tube that reminded me of squeezing into Mayor McCheese's playground head [traumatic for a girl twice as tall as the other munchkins], amongst others. There were also an increased number of tents with A/C and game promos – kinda weird for an earthy, green concert. To boot there was a Heineken dome complete with cute girls passing out swag and a roof that played an endless stream of hypnotic Heine graphics to bring out the beer lover in everyone.

Back to the fashions -- we're talking 80s. As a jeans and t-shirt girl, I'm fairly out of touch stylistically, but I know about the 20 year cycle of fashion and have noticed the 80s creeping back. At Coachella, it was back with a vengeance. Day-glo and gold lamet spandex, boxy sunglasses, TMNT tattoos (he's gotta regret that rebellious 12-year-old choice), but mostly just god-awful clothes that don't match and aren't even thrift store trendy. Our friend Maggie commented that after Day 1 she looked in her closet for something to wear on Day 2 that would fit the trend, but didn't have anything ugly enough. And the music fit, too (80s, not ugly) – the Vampire Weekend preppies, numerous reunion bands (Breeders, Love and Rockets, etc.) and of course, Prince. But enough teasing, let's get to the bands [click on their names to You Tube 'em].

FRIDAY:

Rogue Wave helped kick things off as one of the first bands to play. A great band, but at Coachella bands need to be interactive with the audience in order to be memorable. However, they did have fun with all band members grabbing drum sticks to jam along on the song linked above.

Black Kids is a very cool, bouncy group from Florida. The boys played it serious while the girls got their groove on. A lot of fun in a sparse package.

Architecture in Helsinki are major goofballs of the loud Australian variety. A whole lotta wild, crazy fun as they swapped instruments and jammed in the heat.

Vampire Weekend was the preppie reggae-ish band (I've heard Paul Simon comparisons, which sounds about right on some level) all of the hip kids were there to see. They've been getting a lot of play lately (including an SNL appearance), and they lived up to their hype by putting on a great show. I even skipped watching The Breeders to keep my spot after AIH (supposedly a good move on my part). As rich soccer moms won points by bringing their kids to see VW backstage, I also spied a pregnant Busy Phillips there. Celebs are random but ubiquitous at Coachella. Most keep to the backstage huddle or stray through the VIP area. I barely missed a Steven Tyler sighting, which would have been bizarre.

The Raconteurs know how to rock out, without a doubt. There really is no questioning the talent in this band, and it was awesome to see Jack White, Brendan Benson and company perform.

The Swell Season. I admit, I'm a sucker for Once and their very cute performance on the Oscars. That, and I just wanted to hear Glen Hansard say "tanks" in his Irish brogue. He elaborated on how the award-winning song has gone out of his control, like kicking a ball into a goal – he can't believe it went so far but at the same time he wants his ball back.

Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings. What's fantastic about Coachella is every band has a different groove. You can hear all-out rock, subtle emo or some funky R&B like Jones dished. I skipped headliner Jack Johnson (I have nothing against the Hawaiian green boy, but he became a joke of the fest) to watch Jones pull a willing audience member on stage for a bit of soulful seduction, with the fella's girlfriend happily granting permission.

Black Lips rocked it old school – the crowd was rough and so was the band. Spitting, screaming and tearing the place apart, they weren't done until their guitars were on fire and smashed into pieces. That's the way to end an evening.

SATURDAY:

By Day 2, I'm already feeling old. Blisters on my pinky toes, feet and legs aching, back not doing so hot. Not ready to jump around right away, but the music will change that.

Texting is the only way to keep track of your friends. With friends and husbands working for the paper, I spent more time on my own than with them, so we texted to keep track of each other or to pass along celeb sightings and important updates. Alerting Brian to walking art (such as it was), he replied, "Damn, I'm missing painted boobs?!?!?" Yup, we're that classy.

I snagged the end of Minus the Bear before seeing Cold War Kids do their thing. Like Rogue Wave they were really good (well, better), but just not as memorable in showmanship as other bands.

Cafe Tacuba, however, can put on a show. And this Mexican band has the fans to back them up. Despite the large Hispanic population in the valley, the fest doesn't tap into that market as much as it should. It was the most enthusiastic audience I had seen at the fest so far, and they knew every word (I, on the other hand, could only pick out 1 out of 20 – but that wasn't much different for the bands who spoke English). At one point pintsized lead vocalist Ruben Isaac Albarran Ortega donned a chicken mask and said that people have come to this country to dream, not to do the things they have been accused of. Yet annoyingly, after one particularly exuberant song, the number of guards in the photo pit were increased (thankfully they were thinned out again after the next song). With energy to burn (they even strutted some boy band moves), the band was a blast and encouraged partying without borders.

Death Cab for Cutie was one of the bands I was waiting for. I don't claim to be nearly as aware of cool music as any of my friends, so half the fun of Coachella is discovering new-to-me bands. But this one was a no-brainer, and they did not disappoint.

Rilo Kiley cruelly overlapped with DCC, so I missed the first few songs. But frontwoman Jenny Lewis was on fire and had the crowd hot and bothered. Another overflow of pretty people like VW, but also like them, she deserves all of the attention she gets. The crowd went wild for "Portions for Foxes," which is one of my favorite scream-in-the-car songs.

Mark Ronson, young producer extraordinaire, led his own lively variety show with a guest star nearly every other song – one so excited about being there he climbed the rafters. Ronson rounded up Ricky Wilson (Kaiser Chiefs), Tim Burgess (The Charlatans), Candie Payne, Kenna (the aforementioned climber), Jamie Reynolds (Klaxons), Sam Sparro and Kelly Osbourne. Sienna Miller enjoyed the show next to me and apparently there were quite a few celebs backstage, including the Hoff (hey, he's gotta take a break from his German fans sometime).

Portishead. I know this was the big reunion everyone was crazy about, but I was just getting a spot for Prince. Their songs are fine, but they remind me of my dreary Depeche Mode days in junior high, and after a few songs I kinda wanna cut my wrists. But they were good n' dark as expected, and the crowd was excited.

Prince. One of the other bands commented that much of the audience was probably conceived to a Prince song. Ah, I felt old. I have to admit, when I heard Coachella shelled out $4.2 million to grab Prince after many failures to do so, I was surprised. The headliners are always a little odd compared to the rest of the lineup, but this 80s pop royalty just didn't fit. However, all my music geek friends were going mad at the prospect, so I figured it'd be a good time. And it was.

Without a doubt, the man is a diva. He didn't allow any photographers in the pit and even the crowd was told to put cameras away (though the guard who passed along the message shrugged his shoulders as he said it). [I also tried to snag a YouTube video taken at Coachella, but they've already been disabled.] Prince started late despite the local noise ordinance laws that cut the event off at midnight (he closed the show after 1 a.m.) and repeatedly yelled at the audience, "What's my name?!" Despite his preening, he can work his guitar, which is easy to forget behind all the glitter. He began the show with an 80s flashback by havin' Morris Day of The Time kick out "Jungle Love" and Sheila E. jam to "The Glamorous Life" (during which I got a text from Maggie saying, "F yeah sheila e"). But after all the glam, he also pushed an anti-war message to his worshiping minions.

Prince kicked a few covers including "Come Together" and the odd but somewhat fitting choice of "Creep," and his accompanying ladies sang Sarah McLachlan's "Angel." The rest was the best of Prince (minus "Raspberry Beret" and "When Doves Cry"), of course with "Purple Rain" bringing down the house. There's something about a performer's big song that has 60,000+ people singing together that's quite a rush. That, and hearing Prince say, "Co-a-chella, I'm here!"

SUNDAY:

I can't remember the last time I've slept so hard, and we're definitely feeling two days of rockin' out. Good thing a pack o' Swedes were waiting to wake us up.

I'm from Barcelona. Getting ready for this giant Swedish band to kick it in gear, I get a text from Maggie who snagged a backstage pass this year (though we discovered, not the super special backstage pass – she wasn't allowed to eat with the stars): "Ha ha. I'm in photo pit." Always rubbing it in. But no worries, as this was one band that played for the audience. They began the show by tossing giant red balloons and colored confetti onto their fans, and jumpstarted the love by singing, "I have built a treehouse, nobody can see us, it's a you and me house." Wonderful. Definitely a band to see live (if only to see their superhero in red controltop pantyhose and cape), and you can't help but feel like the world is a big, happy place by the time they finish, especially as you join their conga line through the crowd.

Duffy. Maggie convinced me to check out the cute little soulful package that is Duffy. She's got lungs, but after IFB, it didn't grab us so much and we headed back to VIP to rest our sad little bodies.

We listened to Stars from the VIP area and watched questionable "stars" like tiny David Faustino being accompanied by girls a good foot taller than him and Corey Feldman (sans Haim) hangin' out by the bar. May have seen others, but it was hard to discern the wannabes from the actual celebs.

Gogol Bordello. It was decided that this band is the IFB for boys. Whole lotta fun (one friend appropriately described it as a musical circus) with klezmer-gypsy influences and a definite crowd pleaser, but at this point in the game it just felt like too much after their fourth time at teasing the end of the show. The boys, however, all raved the band as a highlight of the fest.

Sean Penn got on stage for the second time to beg folks to get on his bus the next day for a trip to a Katrina-hit site to help out humanity. Apparently Dirty Hands Caravan would include Ben Harper at the campfire each night and free room and board. Why didn't I go? I'm not sure. Though his plea was more convincing this time without the mention of shrinking glaciers and raped babies that apparently found its way into his first speech earlier in the day.

I missed a band everyone was looking forward to – My Morning Jacket. I was just too damn tired and needed to eat and rest my legs. They sounded great from the VIP tent, which is nice for a) couches in press tent, b) slightly better chow, c) more likely to have celebutard sightings, and most importantly d) cleaner bathrooms (the portapotties get pretty ripe). Maggie informed me that backstage had even better bathrooms, so that's how we rated the access passes.

Roger Waters. I decided to put down my camera and enjoy the show, though I admit I stuck around the VIP tent only because they had a habit of discontinuing access after a certain point in the evening, and I didn't want to get stuck outside while Brian was finishing up working on the web site. In retrospect I wish I got into the crowd, because there were a lot of visuals I missed on the big center screen (though no guarantee I would've been able to see it from the ground), and because the VIP is mostly filled with annoying pretty people who are more interested in schmoozing than listening to the music. And in this case, the music absolutely rocked.

Maybe it's from growing up while being enveloped by the sound of Pink Floyd blasting from my brother's room, but I am mesmerized by Waters. He hasn't lost his edge, and the show was phenomenal. He began with all the big hits, and it's wild to hear thousands of people singing "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" and "Wish You Were Here." After an intermission Waters performed the entire Dark Side of the Moon and capped it all off with encores of "Comfortably Numb" and "Another Brick in the Wall" (which rivaled last year's RATM's "Killing in the Name" for audience participation). Special effects included old school pyrotechnics, a giant graffiti covered floating pig (it said "Don't get led to the slaughter," referring to our politicians) which was ultimately released and a prism complete with a rainbow shooting through the smoke-filled crowd.

A killer way to end a great fest.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Coachella recap

I'm tired, I'm dirty, and Roger Waters' ginormous pig balloon floated away into the desert over two hours ago. So I'm not gonna recount what I saw at Coachella here because I already did on the blog I contributed to for The Desert Sun.

I spent most of the weekend building the paper's photo galleries of the bands and the fans and got several of my own published.

Now it's off to the shower, then to bed because the whole music festival cycle kicks up again next weekend - same time, same place - with Stagecoach, the country music equivalent of Coachella. I'm not a huge fan of country, but it sure as hell beats being stuck at the office.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Best weekend of the year

Yep, Friday is Coachella, which I am once again lucky enough to attend with a press pass allowing me access to the VIP area.

I have four MUST see bands, and they're spaced out across the schedule, which makes seeing them all possible given that my main reason for having the press pass is to do some actual work. Friday is Black Kids, Death Cab for Cutie and Prince are on Saturday, and on Sunday is Gogol Bordello (I've only heard a couple of their songs, but I'd wager they put on a hell of a live show).

Then there are a bunch of bands I'd like to see, work schedule permitting: The Raconteurs, The Breeders, Rilo Kiley, Vampire Weekend, Tegan and Sara, My Morning Jacket, I'm from Barcelona (to see how they fit 29 people on the fairly small Mojave Stage), Datarock, Islands, Minus the Bear, and although I'm not really a fan, I'm down for seeing Roger Waters performing all of "Dark Side of the Moon." I'm also curious about Sean Penn's appearance; the rumor is that he will be joined onstage by Eddie Vedder to perform some of the "Into the Wild" soundtrack. Some of it was set and filmed just down the road by the Salton Sea so you never know.

Here's the lineup - who else do I need to see?

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Happy Earth Day

• A grassroots environmental movement, celebrated each April 22, to broaden awareness of the sensitive nature of the Earth and the havoc the human race is inflicting upon it.

• One of the days deemed important enough by Google to warrant its own holiday treatment.

• My name in Pig Latin.

Posted by Brian at 12:06 PM
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Category: Random

Monday, April 14, 2008

Molly

There's really nothing I can say that hasn't already been said better than I could anyway. I do take comfort in that you packed more into your life than most people ever do. We'll always love you, Molly.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Another year, another move

We are staying in the desert, but will be moving to a neighborhood that boasts fewer gunshots, graffiti wars, drag races and rock-throwing teen hooligans.

As of May 1, we will be moving out of Desert Hot Springs, much to the relief of the Cap'n, who never could string the correct three words together to form the name of this city. Butchered examples include "Desert Palm Springs," "Palm Hot Springs," "Palm Desert Springs," and finally, "the town with the airport," even though DHS does not have one.

Our new place is in the Cathedral City cove, which I lovingly refer to as "The Wang of the Desert." (This is not to be confused with Wang's in the Desert, a great Chinese restaurant in Palm Springs at which I take predictable and juvenile jabs when eating there.)

The new house is smaller than the current place, but we decided to sacrifice square footage for safety. There are great views of the surrounding mountains, and our commutes will be shorter and no longer will include the I-10/Palm Drive interchange snafu.

Plus, it has a pool ... a private pool in our backyard, not an apartment complex pool contaminated with kid piss and old man back hair. And when it's 120 degrees for five straight months, nothing feels better than a dip in your pool, which the sun has heated up to 120 degrees. It also has a hot tub, which we will enjoy on the two days per year when the mercury drops below 78.

Did I mention there will be no more gunshots on our street?

Posted by Brian at 10:11 PM
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Category: Random

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

They're delicious

Why yes, I do eat babies.

Posted by Brian at 10:26 PM
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Category: Photos

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

The giant office time suck

You think the NCAA tournament results in millions of lost work hours each year? (My pick in the pool, by the way: UCLA over Tennessee.) That's a drop in the bucket compared to the shenanigans a-brewin' when the office United Way campaign cranks up.

I have nothing against the United Way. They do good work, and I've heard that most of the dough they raise goes directly to charitable aid, rather than mailings or overhead. That's super. But holy shit, the sheer amount of time and effort offices like mine put into their annual UW drive is jaw-dropping.

My office is conducting the following over the next 10 days: barbecue lunch, multiple bake sales, poker tournament, theme baskets, 2-on-2 basketball tournament (in which Alejandro and I will avenge our last-second loss from last year), an unholy abomination called Penny Wars, a potluck dinner, and of course the outright asking for money. All of which are announced - often multiple times per day - via companywide e-mail blasts featuring 1 MB worth of gaudy graphics that instantly crash the Outlook server.

I would bet that if you add up the employee hours dedicated to planning, announcing, executing, recovering from and self-congratulating over these events and compare that to the actual dollar amount raised, the company would come out ahead by simply writing a check for the same sum to the United Way. But then we would be deprived of stuffing a five-spot into the Penny War jar of those bastards in Advertising.

Posted by Brian at 11:16 PM
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Category: Rant

Coachella 2008 by guest blogger Debz

Coachella recap

Best weekend of the year

Happy Earth Day

Molly

Another year, another move

They're delicious

The giant office time suck

Words of Wisdom

Photos

Endorsements

Selling Out

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