Coachella 2004. AKA Culkin 2004. AKA Puke 2004.
So the routine has commenced. I’m back in the office blocking out the fact that nearly 3 days ago I was standing in the dessert seeing some of the best rock bands of our time. Though it’s a major disappointment to be back at work, I was beginning to miss my NYC. I love my NYC, but for now let’s concentrate on our exodus.
Friday’s Travel.
Bolting from the office never felt so good. It was 4pm on Friday when I returned to 186 to meet with Cami, Flynne and Builder. After a quick hair cut by Cami, we hopped in the car and headed to JFK. The ride to the airport was filled with anticipation of terminal drinks and Tylenol PM. We parked in a colossal parking lot and took the AirTram to Terminal 6. Builder and I managed to get seats together, as did the girls. While we were waiting in line to get the pat down, we ran into Jake who was also heading to Ontario. The five of us got a table at the new sports bar in the Jet Blue terminal that replaced the hideous sushi bar.
We were quickly joined by Beach, Perry, Daylen, Mohawk and Lucy who were part of the massive crew assembled for the weekend. For the record, we ran into them while in line for security check. Beach and Perry attempted the weekends first Culkin on me, but Beach was a bit too obvious on his approach. We immediately went to the bar for a tequila shot so we could loosen up for the long flight. After a few drinks and some grub the crew boarded the plane and my nerves kicked in.
I’ve never been great at flying. There is something about a situation where I have no control that really freaks me out. Does that make me a control freak? By definition, maybe, but to be honest, it’s just flying and driving with Kevin Smith that truly freaks me out, (no pun intended, some of you may know what I’m saying). We piled into the booked flight and made friends with Edwin our steward who had the biggest scares on his head. He had to be a reformed criminal. The dude looked tough, but he was all about us drinking, (maybe because we tipped him). Once we hit our “cruising altitude” I was totally buzzed and completely cool.
Halfway through our flight and the NBA playoff games Builder struck up a conversation with the girl in our aisle. She was quite cute, but she was one of those girls who have more money than they know what to do with. She chatted the two of us up for a solid hour before we both slipped back into our digital cable. There was also a chap sitting in front of Beach and Daylen who was trying to fuck his bimbo secretary. They were making out on the flight. Classy. At one point I was using the empty seats arm rest to talk to the kids when he started giving me shit. A quick “fuck off” glance was thrown before ass fuck got his extra arm rest back. If by chance jackass or his wife ever reads this, I hope you crash while speeding your Audi down some freeway while receiving a blow job from your wife’s sister.
Ok, enough of that. We touched down to many cheers and loud ca-cha’s emanating through out the plane. We thanked Edwin and were off to Alamo where we encountered the dumbest employee ever. She even asked the four of us if we were in town for the races. I’ve spent five years trying to shed my redneck skin only to be called out by a woman with the darkest teeth ever. She was also mesmerized by the fact that the Dodge Durango we rented only had 2 miles on it. It’s cool that we got a brand new car, but really, who gives a shit, it’s a car. Upon finding our vehicle, I realized that she was right; the Durango was a stunning example of Dominant American Capitalism. It was a monster and a beaut all at the same time. The white horse provided killer transportation around SoCal.
Our first stop was at the In and Out Burger. Beach had been talking up this establishment, but I wasn’t believing the hype. Once again, I was wrong. The In and Out Burger was all Donny and Walter made it out to be. A delicious burger later, we were back on the road and stuck in what was probably “The Race’s” traffic. It extended our drive by nearly an hour. We eventually lost Beach and the crew who were traveling in front of us, but we made our way to the Holiday Inn express by 3am. We checked in and ran into Berta who was winding down after a big Diesel Party. We were joined by Rob who planned to crash on our floor. I cuddled up with Builder and managed to get a couple hours of sleep.
Saturday’s Shit Show.
You are probably wondering why Friday’s entry was sooooooo long. I just wanted to make sure the extended travel was conveyed. I nearly pulled a 24 hour shift on Friday, but that didn’t matter because Saturday was for the rock. I woke up early by East Coast standards, and headed downstairs to partake in the free continental breakfast. When I returned to the room everyone was stirring and getting ready to eat and go for a swim. Flynne was definitely to pool warrior of the weekend. She managed to spend every morning down by the tiny, but sufficient pool.
Around 11am or so, we headed to Jen and Rebecca’s condo where Whitney and Matt were staying. It took us forever to find the complex because Cami and I weren’t paying attention from the front seat. Apparently I was too busy ruining her clothes with deodorant, (I’m apologizing again for that move). We were met by Whitney who was running down the street toward us. He proceeded to take us inside where we were greeted by a room of lovely LA kids. They hooked us up with some drinks and we commenced chilling. A few Vodka Cran’s and five shotgunned PBR’s later, and we were ready for the festival.
Since it was already 3pm Whitney and Matt decided to travel with the rest of us in the Durango because their ladies weren’t going for awhile. We hit some major traffic so foolery ensued. Whitney and I dashed out of the car and ran up the highway until we decided to duck and cover in a random minivan full of high school girls who were more than happy to see us. I returned to the car only to see Cami and Rob jump out and run down the road to take a leak in some bushes. It was mayhem, so Whitney and I jumped ship again and ran across some huge parking lot. We got a ways down the road before escaping from the 105 degree heat in some white four-door with a couple of randoms from LA. It was great being drunk, but I’m sorry that we pissed the rest of the kids off. They all gave me some serious shit before the Pixies set, which was warranted, but then again, I was tossed. Matt ran by the car when we made the turn into the parking lot. At that point we bailed from the vehicle and made our way into the polo grounds.
Whit and I got beer bracelets and headed to the Outdoor stage to check out some of Trail of Dead’s set. I didn’t realize this band plays Detroit style, (two drummers). They were tough, but not as loud and crazy as I expected them to be. There were even some melodies in there! It was a solid set, though Beach claimed they were pretty sloppy to which I say, it’s only rock and roll. After a few songs we headed to the Mojave tent where Juinor/Senior was playing. I ran into Sascha from Flavorpill who was on his way to see the Beck set at the adjacent tent. When the Danish duo (plus Flip, the drummer and the back up singers) took the stage, the crowd began to move. Their set was outstanding, and by the time Senior loosened up a bit, everyone in my near vicinity was drenched in sweat. Their crowning moment was when they played Chicks and Dicks which almost prompted a make out session between the Whit and I. They are top notch so make sure you check them out next time they come your way.
We took off early in hopes of catching a bit of the Beck set, but as predicted, he was playing a snooze set of acoustic jams from Sea Change. Sorry Beck, but that’s BORING. You know the kids are in the desert to party and dance, so why not give them what they want? Why can’t you dish out the hits? Is this what we should expect in the future? Whit and I tried to catch the last couple songs from the Danes, but we were so drunk that we had to keep it rolling. We headed to the beer tent to do some drinking, but after slugging down a couple beers, the heat began to take its tool. At this point things got blurry for a little while, we managed to find Matt and make it to the Black Keys set in the Mojave tent. They were fucking unreal. Definitely one of the top acts I saw even though I had no desire to check them out. They ripped through a set of killer garage drenched blues rock. Their drummer was placed nearly five feet in the air, and he was wailing away while his other half was shredding our ears off.
After their set I ran into Paul “I Love Cock” Bothe who was grabbing some grub with his ladyfriend. He immediately shoved a one hitter in my face and we began to puff away in the middle of the food area. My one regret of Coachella is not spending enough time with Bothe, but the shere size of the event along with the shitty cell phone service and the number of monkeys we had to deal with made it very difficult. It was fucking excellent seeing him though, and I hope he is making his way out to the right coast soon.
By this time I was wondering around the venue by my self. Drunk and tired, I managed to find Builder, Cami, Rob and Flynne who were chilling in the beer garden waiting for the Pixies set. Unfortunately we had to sit there and listen to Sparta or Thursday or some shitty band, but that didn’t matter because Frank and Kim were on their way.
The Pixies set is all it’s cracked up to be. If you have any sense, you will buy a ticket to their show at Randell’s Island this Summer. We watched them play through hits like U-Mass, Debaser, Here Comes Your Man, Monkey’s Gone to Heaven, Gigantic, Veloria and Where is My Mind. The set was ridiculous. Ever jam was played and every song was a hit. Kim laid it the fuck down on bass while Frank let out screams and song. Once they were done, I was ready to come back home.
That is until I heard Sister Savior blasting from the Outdoor stage. That’s right kids, I left The Pixies set, only too accidentally (I say that because I was so drunk that it was definitely not on purpose) walk upon The Rapture’s set. Their Coachella set may have been the best I’ve ever seen from these guys. Tracks like Heaven, House of Jealous Lovers and I Need Your Love were loaded with head bobbing keys and melt your face sax sections.
I wandered back into the beer tent because Radiohead was about to play, and I thought that the kids would still be there. They had left, but I found the LA kids along with Whitney. After suffering through five or six songs, Whitney, Jen and I decided to bolt which means that I missed Kraftwerk and any make out sessions played for the Phantom Planet set. Upon sobering up I realized how dumb my early exit was, but we did go to Jack In The Box which was bitching. I passed out at the hotel by myself, but eventually the kids trickled in. Poor Flynne and Cami. The girls got stuck with the car because the boys ran off. The worse part is that they had to sit in traffic for three hours after the show. Sorry ladies.
Sunday’s Logistics.
The kids at the Holiday Inn woke up early once again and the boys split from the girls in order to eat the delicious brunch. Cami and Flynne stayed behind because they didn’t want to go early for !!!. Once we got to the buffet brunch thing at Beach’s hotel, it was on. I must have consumed a pound of bacon. The buffet even had a juicer, a dude to make you omelets and waffles, and it even had Krispe Kreme Dounuts. Needless to say I had to walk around with a boner the whole time. Ok, disgusting, but true.
After breakfast we headed up to their hotel room. On the way I began to feel a bit ill. At this point Perry and Beach decided to execute a perfect Culkin on me. The only problem was that this move secured the fact that I would lose everything I just ate. We hustled into their room and I preceded to yuke my guts out. Once everyone finished their business (filling suntan lotion bottles with tequila) we took off for the festival. While waiting for the elevator, we succeeded in taking down Builder. He flew threw the air like an acrobat. That kid went down a lot this weekend.
We made it inside with some time to kill before the !!! set so Tumbleweed, Lucy and I walked around and I helped them out with the beer bracelets. It was extremely easy to smuggle them bracelets which gives me confidence in saying that some of the girls I was starring at in the beer tent were 16!
We made it back to the Outdoor Stage where everyone was assembling for the !!! set. We even ran into Matt who was getting psyched for the set. While we were waiting, I managed to Solo Culkin Tumbleweed after two other people botched an attempt on him. We noticed the band taking the stage so we decided to slide a bit closer for a good look at the band whose members reside in New York and Los Angeles. They turned in a set that may have been the highlight of my day. The lead singer had total control of the crowd which he used to get us moving, clapping and throwing our hands up in 108 degree happiness. They played some tracks from the upcoming record as well as some classic dance tracks. Their front man has the look. That guy can dance. He pulls out all the stops. My neck was killing me afterwards because I couldn’t stop banging. Perry also seemed to be pleased because he was dripping with sweat. Make sure you get tickets to their June show at the Bowery.
We did a quick water run before returning to the same spot for Broken Social Scene. We waited for 20 minutes before BSS took the stage and we lit some joints. If !!! was my highlight, than Broken Social Scene raced them to a photo finish. The collective of Canadian musicians played great tracks such as KC Accidental and Athem’s for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl. The latter was performed with Emily Haines from Metric who free styled a bit on the chorus as well as the band who did a bit of their own improve for the track. They were also joined on stage by Dave Hamelin from The Stills, but instead of playing the drums he found his way behind the keyboard. Before their last song, one of the guitar players took to the microphone and asked his long time lady friend to marry him. She accepted and they had a nice long embrace. It made me feel good inside. This also prompts me to ask, does anyone want to get married? I'm partial to ladies, but hell, stranger things have happened.
Perry, Builder, Rob and I headed to the main stage to join the rest of the gang who were busy seeing Muse. This is a band I can’t seem to get into. I’ve tried, and some of their stuff is pretty good, but it reminds me of Thom Dork and the boys a little too much. We stuck around for a few songs before heading to the tent where The Killers were playing. This is another band I’ve been trying to get into, but their set at Coachella was downright bad. And their song about indie rock just makes me want to punch myself. It’s so goddamn cheesy. They did play Mr. Brightside which has the hook that makes me happy. They also brought out a choir to back them up on their last song, but it wasn’t as special as it could have been because they weren’t mic’d very well.
We met up with the girls after they caught the Thrills set. We packed it in and headed to the Main Stage for Belle and Sebastian who, from what I’m told, played a new set. It seemed perfect for that point of the day. I was lying in the grass starring at a clear sky while listening to pretty pop songs. During their set I took off early to see Cooper Temple Clause by myself. I ran into Daylen and Stewart over there, but I couldn’t dig the music so I quickly exited. After that I met some kids for a couple of quick beers. I also ran into Mandell who tried to Culkin Gene right off. Adam is now in the game!
By 7pm the day was wearing on me, but I decided to join the crew who was taking in the Dizzy Rascal set. I couldn’t understand a word that kat said, but he had some flow. The tent was hot and smelly so I retired to the outside for a hamburger that would later plague me. Never eat festival food. It will kill you. I ran into Gabby and Ian who were chilling during the Bright Eyes set so I gave him a shot. Fuck Conner. That’s all I have to say. Gene and Perry were hanging out in the crowd so we chilled until I went to meet Builder, Rob, Cami and Flynne for the Sleepy Jackson set. We never actually went in that tent. I was too busy sitting in pain. Fucking burgers.
We made our way to the meeting spot for The Flaming Lips show. Though they only played five songs, their set was full of eye candy. As I’m sure you already know, Wayne climbed into a giant bubble and walked out onto the crowd because he wanted to arrive in Coachella in a spaceship. The furrys were in full effect as well as some giant green balloons. Wayne was swinging around some purple light in hopes that all onlookers were on mushrooms. Wayne did a lot of half assed political preaching. He walked a fine line and was protecting himself from appearing anti anything but Bush. For their last song he asked the crowd to sing Beck’s unborn child happy birthday while he poured blood on his head. Genius.
Then the wait was on for Robert Smith and the Cure. Though most onlookers were disappointed by the poor sound quality (the mix was low), I was pleasantly surprised by their set. Just check out my top five. Enough said. We left a bit early to beat traffic, but realized that we missed nearly an extra hour of Cure tunes. That’s the biggest boner of the weekend.
Sunday’s Dessert Sessions.
We woke up on Sunday, cleaned up and checked out of the hotel before meeting up with the other crew for breakfast at The Nest. It was such a shitty restaurant, but it did the trick. Adrian showed up to pick Cami up. He had a killer Cure shirt on, and was in good spirits. After our meal they headed wherever the hell he lives in SoCal while the rest of us headed to Joshua Tree. If you have never seen the dessert before, do yourself a favor and check out this national park. It was amazing. It was strange. It was everything I wanted my final day in California to be. We drove around for awhile and then stopped to do some exploring and drinking. I was still sick so there were no beers for me, but Perry picked up my slack.
We stopped along side the road after our first session so Tumbleweed could run up to Beach’s car to get his mixtape. At this point, Perry and Beach were on the prowl for a Culkin. Perry hopped out of the Durango and proceeded to take position, but it was to no avail. Builder slid out of the car and became the kneeler. The other boys pushed Mohawk and he went down in the dessert. We made another stop at a rock formation where Flynne and Builder claimed to have seen a Jack Conejo, but that didn’t matter because I was looking for the Kangaroo Rat, but I never saw one.
We made a dinner stop at the Sizzler where everyone proceeded to get grossed out by their various entrées. Perry also set it up where the four different employees came out to sing me happy birthday. It was embarrassing, but worth it because I got a balloon that I sucked the helium out of and sang Franz Ferdinand songs. Perry is amazing.
The flight home was spent sleeping because of the Tylenol PM and White Wine.
All I want to say is that we did good kids. Each one of us. Be proud of yourselves. We only have a year left to train for the next Coachella.
Pheobe’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Finding shade under a trash can.
2. Finding my car in a big fucking dusty pitch dark field.
3. Hoping no one noticed my weeping during The Pixies set (I was THAT girl, and it was EMBARASSING).
4. Watching The Pixies fuck up lyrics to U-Mass,
Gigantic, and Where is My Mind? (but still sounding awesomical).
5. Pixies, Pixies, and Pixies.
Builder’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Broken Social Scene’s Anthem’s for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl.
2. Kraftwerk’s set.
3. Spooning with Jay at the Holiday Inn Express.
4. Mohawk’s Joshua Tree Culkin.
5. Being awarded the Purple Heart for getting knocked on my ass so many times.
Beach’s Top Five Coachella Bands & Culkins:
1. Radiohead
2. The Pixies
3. Muse
4. Mogwai
5. !!!
1. Tumbleweed Desert Culkin
2. Builders Purple Heart signifying the large amount of Culkins he received over 3 days.
3. The Belin puke inducing Culkin.
4. Finally getting Perry (twice!).
5. Finally getting my buddy Gene as well.
Mr. Sweet’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Slow dancing and frenching during The Cure set, pretending its 1985, I'm 13, in a packed middle school gym, and I'm wearing make up.
2. The Pixies.
3. Not being at work but rather drinking beer in the back of a rented Dodge Durango on your way to see Junior Senior.
4. Rapid hand dances performed to Modest Mouse in the back of some stranger's packed mini van.
5. Spending time with my boyfriend, Jay Belin.
Camadonna’s Top Five (???) Coachella Moments:
1. The Pixies
2. The Pixies
3. The Pixies
4. The Pixies
5. The Durango
Mandell’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Having Mischa Barton almost literally walk into me.
2. The amazing back to back to back spectacle of Pixies/Radiohead/Kraftwerk.
3. Dancing and drinks at the Spin after party.
4. Dude from Broken Social Scene proposing to his girlfriend onstage.
5. The helpful text messages from "What's up, Coachella."
Warrior Perry’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1) Beach jumping like a little school girl for two hours during Pixies-Radiohead.
2) The first Culkin into puke that I have witnessed by Jay.
3) My own first Culkin which was quite an aerail display orcastrated by an all-Beach team.
4) Taking down Gene Smith after he was 0 for 4 in Culkin take down attempts.
5) The Sizzler buffet.
Purely Musical
1) Radiohead's whole set.
2) Pixies' whole set.
3) !!!'s dance moves.
4) Broken Social Scene' last song.
5) Junior Senior's Move Your Feet/Push It.
Jay Good Times’ Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Bento Bands and the solid crew who made the journey.
2. The Pixies, Debaser
3. !!!’s lead singer’s dance moves.
4. Almost crying when The Cure played Pictures of You.
5. Jumping into a random minivan with Whit only to find three high school girls who were very happy to see us.
So the routine has commenced. I’m back in the office blocking out the fact that nearly 3 days ago I was standing in the dessert seeing some of the best rock bands of our time. Though it’s a major disappointment to be back at work, I was beginning to miss my NYC. I love my NYC, but for now let’s concentrate on our exodus.
Friday’s Travel.
Bolting from the office never felt so good. It was 4pm on Friday when I returned to 186 to meet with Cami, Flynne and Builder. After a quick hair cut by Cami, we hopped in the car and headed to JFK. The ride to the airport was filled with anticipation of terminal drinks and Tylenol PM. We parked in a colossal parking lot and took the AirTram to Terminal 6. Builder and I managed to get seats together, as did the girls. While we were waiting in line to get the pat down, we ran into Jake who was also heading to Ontario. The five of us got a table at the new sports bar in the Jet Blue terminal that replaced the hideous sushi bar.
We were quickly joined by Beach, Perry, Daylen, Mohawk and Lucy who were part of the massive crew assembled for the weekend. For the record, we ran into them while in line for security check. Beach and Perry attempted the weekends first Culkin on me, but Beach was a bit too obvious on his approach. We immediately went to the bar for a tequila shot so we could loosen up for the long flight. After a few drinks and some grub the crew boarded the plane and my nerves kicked in.
I’ve never been great at flying. There is something about a situation where I have no control that really freaks me out. Does that make me a control freak? By definition, maybe, but to be honest, it’s just flying and driving with Kevin Smith that truly freaks me out, (no pun intended, some of you may know what I’m saying). We piled into the booked flight and made friends with Edwin our steward who had the biggest scares on his head. He had to be a reformed criminal. The dude looked tough, but he was all about us drinking, (maybe because we tipped him). Once we hit our “cruising altitude” I was totally buzzed and completely cool.
Halfway through our flight and the NBA playoff games Builder struck up a conversation with the girl in our aisle. She was quite cute, but she was one of those girls who have more money than they know what to do with. She chatted the two of us up for a solid hour before we both slipped back into our digital cable. There was also a chap sitting in front of Beach and Daylen who was trying to fuck his bimbo secretary. They were making out on the flight. Classy. At one point I was using the empty seats arm rest to talk to the kids when he started giving me shit. A quick “fuck off” glance was thrown before ass fuck got his extra arm rest back. If by chance jackass or his wife ever reads this, I hope you crash while speeding your Audi down some freeway while receiving a blow job from your wife’s sister.
Ok, enough of that. We touched down to many cheers and loud ca-cha’s emanating through out the plane. We thanked Edwin and were off to Alamo where we encountered the dumbest employee ever. She even asked the four of us if we were in town for the races. I’ve spent five years trying to shed my redneck skin only to be called out by a woman with the darkest teeth ever. She was also mesmerized by the fact that the Dodge Durango we rented only had 2 miles on it. It’s cool that we got a brand new car, but really, who gives a shit, it’s a car. Upon finding our vehicle, I realized that she was right; the Durango was a stunning example of Dominant American Capitalism. It was a monster and a beaut all at the same time. The white horse provided killer transportation around SoCal.
Our first stop was at the In and Out Burger. Beach had been talking up this establishment, but I wasn’t believing the hype. Once again, I was wrong. The In and Out Burger was all Donny and Walter made it out to be. A delicious burger later, we were back on the road and stuck in what was probably “The Race’s” traffic. It extended our drive by nearly an hour. We eventually lost Beach and the crew who were traveling in front of us, but we made our way to the Holiday Inn express by 3am. We checked in and ran into Berta who was winding down after a big Diesel Party. We were joined by Rob who planned to crash on our floor. I cuddled up with Builder and managed to get a couple hours of sleep.
Saturday’s Shit Show.
You are probably wondering why Friday’s entry was sooooooo long. I just wanted to make sure the extended travel was conveyed. I nearly pulled a 24 hour shift on Friday, but that didn’t matter because Saturday was for the rock. I woke up early by East Coast standards, and headed downstairs to partake in the free continental breakfast. When I returned to the room everyone was stirring and getting ready to eat and go for a swim. Flynne was definitely to pool warrior of the weekend. She managed to spend every morning down by the tiny, but sufficient pool.
Around 11am or so, we headed to Jen and Rebecca’s condo where Whitney and Matt were staying. It took us forever to find the complex because Cami and I weren’t paying attention from the front seat. Apparently I was too busy ruining her clothes with deodorant, (I’m apologizing again for that move). We were met by Whitney who was running down the street toward us. He proceeded to take us inside where we were greeted by a room of lovely LA kids. They hooked us up with some drinks and we commenced chilling. A few Vodka Cran’s and five shotgunned PBR’s later, and we were ready for the festival.
Since it was already 3pm Whitney and Matt decided to travel with the rest of us in the Durango because their ladies weren’t going for awhile. We hit some major traffic so foolery ensued. Whitney and I dashed out of the car and ran up the highway until we decided to duck and cover in a random minivan full of high school girls who were more than happy to see us. I returned to the car only to see Cami and Rob jump out and run down the road to take a leak in some bushes. It was mayhem, so Whitney and I jumped ship again and ran across some huge parking lot. We got a ways down the road before escaping from the 105 degree heat in some white four-door with a couple of randoms from LA. It was great being drunk, but I’m sorry that we pissed the rest of the kids off. They all gave me some serious shit before the Pixies set, which was warranted, but then again, I was tossed. Matt ran by the car when we made the turn into the parking lot. At that point we bailed from the vehicle and made our way into the polo grounds.
Whit and I got beer bracelets and headed to the Outdoor stage to check out some of Trail of Dead’s set. I didn’t realize this band plays Detroit style, (two drummers). They were tough, but not as loud and crazy as I expected them to be. There were even some melodies in there! It was a solid set, though Beach claimed they were pretty sloppy to which I say, it’s only rock and roll. After a few songs we headed to the Mojave tent where Juinor/Senior was playing. I ran into Sascha from Flavorpill who was on his way to see the Beck set at the adjacent tent. When the Danish duo (plus Flip, the drummer and the back up singers) took the stage, the crowd began to move. Their set was outstanding, and by the time Senior loosened up a bit, everyone in my near vicinity was drenched in sweat. Their crowning moment was when they played Chicks and Dicks which almost prompted a make out session between the Whit and I. They are top notch so make sure you check them out next time they come your way.
We took off early in hopes of catching a bit of the Beck set, but as predicted, he was playing a snooze set of acoustic jams from Sea Change. Sorry Beck, but that’s BORING. You know the kids are in the desert to party and dance, so why not give them what they want? Why can’t you dish out the hits? Is this what we should expect in the future? Whit and I tried to catch the last couple songs from the Danes, but we were so drunk that we had to keep it rolling. We headed to the beer tent to do some drinking, but after slugging down a couple beers, the heat began to take its tool. At this point things got blurry for a little while, we managed to find Matt and make it to the Black Keys set in the Mojave tent. They were fucking unreal. Definitely one of the top acts I saw even though I had no desire to check them out. They ripped through a set of killer garage drenched blues rock. Their drummer was placed nearly five feet in the air, and he was wailing away while his other half was shredding our ears off.
After their set I ran into Paul “I Love Cock” Bothe who was grabbing some grub with his ladyfriend. He immediately shoved a one hitter in my face and we began to puff away in the middle of the food area. My one regret of Coachella is not spending enough time with Bothe, but the shere size of the event along with the shitty cell phone service and the number of monkeys we had to deal with made it very difficult. It was fucking excellent seeing him though, and I hope he is making his way out to the right coast soon.
By this time I was wondering around the venue by my self. Drunk and tired, I managed to find Builder, Cami, Rob and Flynne who were chilling in the beer garden waiting for the Pixies set. Unfortunately we had to sit there and listen to Sparta or Thursday or some shitty band, but that didn’t matter because Frank and Kim were on their way.
The Pixies set is all it’s cracked up to be. If you have any sense, you will buy a ticket to their show at Randell’s Island this Summer. We watched them play through hits like U-Mass, Debaser, Here Comes Your Man, Monkey’s Gone to Heaven, Gigantic, Veloria and Where is My Mind. The set was ridiculous. Ever jam was played and every song was a hit. Kim laid it the fuck down on bass while Frank let out screams and song. Once they were done, I was ready to come back home.
That is until I heard Sister Savior blasting from the Outdoor stage. That’s right kids, I left The Pixies set, only too accidentally (I say that because I was so drunk that it was definitely not on purpose) walk upon The Rapture’s set. Their Coachella set may have been the best I’ve ever seen from these guys. Tracks like Heaven, House of Jealous Lovers and I Need Your Love were loaded with head bobbing keys and melt your face sax sections.
I wandered back into the beer tent because Radiohead was about to play, and I thought that the kids would still be there. They had left, but I found the LA kids along with Whitney. After suffering through five or six songs, Whitney, Jen and I decided to bolt which means that I missed Kraftwerk and any make out sessions played for the Phantom Planet set. Upon sobering up I realized how dumb my early exit was, but we did go to Jack In The Box which was bitching. I passed out at the hotel by myself, but eventually the kids trickled in. Poor Flynne and Cami. The girls got stuck with the car because the boys ran off. The worse part is that they had to sit in traffic for three hours after the show. Sorry ladies.
Sunday’s Logistics.
The kids at the Holiday Inn woke up early once again and the boys split from the girls in order to eat the delicious brunch. Cami and Flynne stayed behind because they didn’t want to go early for !!!. Once we got to the buffet brunch thing at Beach’s hotel, it was on. I must have consumed a pound of bacon. The buffet even had a juicer, a dude to make you omelets and waffles, and it even had Krispe Kreme Dounuts. Needless to say I had to walk around with a boner the whole time. Ok, disgusting, but true.
After breakfast we headed up to their hotel room. On the way I began to feel a bit ill. At this point Perry and Beach decided to execute a perfect Culkin on me. The only problem was that this move secured the fact that I would lose everything I just ate. We hustled into their room and I preceded to yuke my guts out. Once everyone finished their business (filling suntan lotion bottles with tequila) we took off for the festival. While waiting for the elevator, we succeeded in taking down Builder. He flew threw the air like an acrobat. That kid went down a lot this weekend.
We made it inside with some time to kill before the !!! set so Tumbleweed, Lucy and I walked around and I helped them out with the beer bracelets. It was extremely easy to smuggle them bracelets which gives me confidence in saying that some of the girls I was starring at in the beer tent were 16!
We made it back to the Outdoor Stage where everyone was assembling for the !!! set. We even ran into Matt who was getting psyched for the set. While we were waiting, I managed to Solo Culkin Tumbleweed after two other people botched an attempt on him. We noticed the band taking the stage so we decided to slide a bit closer for a good look at the band whose members reside in New York and Los Angeles. They turned in a set that may have been the highlight of my day. The lead singer had total control of the crowd which he used to get us moving, clapping and throwing our hands up in 108 degree happiness. They played some tracks from the upcoming record as well as some classic dance tracks. Their front man has the look. That guy can dance. He pulls out all the stops. My neck was killing me afterwards because I couldn’t stop banging. Perry also seemed to be pleased because he was dripping with sweat. Make sure you get tickets to their June show at the Bowery.
We did a quick water run before returning to the same spot for Broken Social Scene. We waited for 20 minutes before BSS took the stage and we lit some joints. If !!! was my highlight, than Broken Social Scene raced them to a photo finish. The collective of Canadian musicians played great tracks such as KC Accidental and Athem’s for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl. The latter was performed with Emily Haines from Metric who free styled a bit on the chorus as well as the band who did a bit of their own improve for the track. They were also joined on stage by Dave Hamelin from The Stills, but instead of playing the drums he found his way behind the keyboard. Before their last song, one of the guitar players took to the microphone and asked his long time lady friend to marry him. She accepted and they had a nice long embrace. It made me feel good inside. This also prompts me to ask, does anyone want to get married? I'm partial to ladies, but hell, stranger things have happened.
Perry, Builder, Rob and I headed to the main stage to join the rest of the gang who were busy seeing Muse. This is a band I can’t seem to get into. I’ve tried, and some of their stuff is pretty good, but it reminds me of Thom Dork and the boys a little too much. We stuck around for a few songs before heading to the tent where The Killers were playing. This is another band I’ve been trying to get into, but their set at Coachella was downright bad. And their song about indie rock just makes me want to punch myself. It’s so goddamn cheesy. They did play Mr. Brightside which has the hook that makes me happy. They also brought out a choir to back them up on their last song, but it wasn’t as special as it could have been because they weren’t mic’d very well.
We met up with the girls after they caught the Thrills set. We packed it in and headed to the Main Stage for Belle and Sebastian who, from what I’m told, played a new set. It seemed perfect for that point of the day. I was lying in the grass starring at a clear sky while listening to pretty pop songs. During their set I took off early to see Cooper Temple Clause by myself. I ran into Daylen and Stewart over there, but I couldn’t dig the music so I quickly exited. After that I met some kids for a couple of quick beers. I also ran into Mandell who tried to Culkin Gene right off. Adam is now in the game!
By 7pm the day was wearing on me, but I decided to join the crew who was taking in the Dizzy Rascal set. I couldn’t understand a word that kat said, but he had some flow. The tent was hot and smelly so I retired to the outside for a hamburger that would later plague me. Never eat festival food. It will kill you. I ran into Gabby and Ian who were chilling during the Bright Eyes set so I gave him a shot. Fuck Conner. That’s all I have to say. Gene and Perry were hanging out in the crowd so we chilled until I went to meet Builder, Rob, Cami and Flynne for the Sleepy Jackson set. We never actually went in that tent. I was too busy sitting in pain. Fucking burgers.
We made our way to the meeting spot for The Flaming Lips show. Though they only played five songs, their set was full of eye candy. As I’m sure you already know, Wayne climbed into a giant bubble and walked out onto the crowd because he wanted to arrive in Coachella in a spaceship. The furrys were in full effect as well as some giant green balloons. Wayne was swinging around some purple light in hopes that all onlookers were on mushrooms. Wayne did a lot of half assed political preaching. He walked a fine line and was protecting himself from appearing anti anything but Bush. For their last song he asked the crowd to sing Beck’s unborn child happy birthday while he poured blood on his head. Genius.
Then the wait was on for Robert Smith and the Cure. Though most onlookers were disappointed by the poor sound quality (the mix was low), I was pleasantly surprised by their set. Just check out my top five. Enough said. We left a bit early to beat traffic, but realized that we missed nearly an extra hour of Cure tunes. That’s the biggest boner of the weekend.
Sunday’s Dessert Sessions.
We woke up on Sunday, cleaned up and checked out of the hotel before meeting up with the other crew for breakfast at The Nest. It was such a shitty restaurant, but it did the trick. Adrian showed up to pick Cami up. He had a killer Cure shirt on, and was in good spirits. After our meal they headed wherever the hell he lives in SoCal while the rest of us headed to Joshua Tree. If you have never seen the dessert before, do yourself a favor and check out this national park. It was amazing. It was strange. It was everything I wanted my final day in California to be. We drove around for awhile and then stopped to do some exploring and drinking. I was still sick so there were no beers for me, but Perry picked up my slack.
We stopped along side the road after our first session so Tumbleweed could run up to Beach’s car to get his mixtape. At this point, Perry and Beach were on the prowl for a Culkin. Perry hopped out of the Durango and proceeded to take position, but it was to no avail. Builder slid out of the car and became the kneeler. The other boys pushed Mohawk and he went down in the dessert. We made another stop at a rock formation where Flynne and Builder claimed to have seen a Jack Conejo, but that didn’t matter because I was looking for the Kangaroo Rat, but I never saw one.
We made a dinner stop at the Sizzler where everyone proceeded to get grossed out by their various entrées. Perry also set it up where the four different employees came out to sing me happy birthday. It was embarrassing, but worth it because I got a balloon that I sucked the helium out of and sang Franz Ferdinand songs. Perry is amazing.
The flight home was spent sleeping because of the Tylenol PM and White Wine.
All I want to say is that we did good kids. Each one of us. Be proud of yourselves. We only have a year left to train for the next Coachella.
Pheobe’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Finding shade under a trash can.
2. Finding my car in a big fucking dusty pitch dark field.
3. Hoping no one noticed my weeping during The Pixies set (I was THAT girl, and it was EMBARASSING).
4. Watching The Pixies fuck up lyrics to U-Mass,
Gigantic, and Where is My Mind? (but still sounding awesomical).
5. Pixies, Pixies, and Pixies.
Builder’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Broken Social Scene’s Anthem’s for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl.
2. Kraftwerk’s set.
3. Spooning with Jay at the Holiday Inn Express.
4. Mohawk’s Joshua Tree Culkin.
5. Being awarded the Purple Heart for getting knocked on my ass so many times.
Beach’s Top Five Coachella Bands & Culkins:
1. Radiohead
2. The Pixies
3. Muse
4. Mogwai
5. !!!
1. Tumbleweed Desert Culkin
2. Builders Purple Heart signifying the large amount of Culkins he received over 3 days.
3. The Belin puke inducing Culkin.
4. Finally getting Perry (twice!).
5. Finally getting my buddy Gene as well.
Mr. Sweet’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Slow dancing and frenching during The Cure set, pretending its 1985, I'm 13, in a packed middle school gym, and I'm wearing make up.
2. The Pixies.
3. Not being at work but rather drinking beer in the back of a rented Dodge Durango on your way to see Junior Senior.
4. Rapid hand dances performed to Modest Mouse in the back of some stranger's packed mini van.
5. Spending time with my boyfriend, Jay Belin.
Camadonna’s Top Five (???) Coachella Moments:
1. The Pixies
2. The Pixies
3. The Pixies
4. The Pixies
5. The Durango
Mandell’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Having Mischa Barton almost literally walk into me.
2. The amazing back to back to back spectacle of Pixies/Radiohead/Kraftwerk.
3. Dancing and drinks at the Spin after party.
4. Dude from Broken Social Scene proposing to his girlfriend onstage.
5. The helpful text messages from "What's up, Coachella."
Warrior Perry’s Top Five Coachella Moments:
1) Beach jumping like a little school girl for two hours during Pixies-Radiohead.
2) The first Culkin into puke that I have witnessed by Jay.
3) My own first Culkin which was quite an aerail display orcastrated by an all-Beach team.
4) Taking down Gene Smith after he was 0 for 4 in Culkin take down attempts.
5) The Sizzler buffet.
Purely Musical
1) Radiohead's whole set.
2) Pixies' whole set.
3) !!!'s dance moves.
4) Broken Social Scene' last song.
5) Junior Senior's Move Your Feet/Push It.
Jay Good Times’ Top Five Coachella Moments:
1. Bento Bands and the solid crew who made the journey.
2. The Pixies, Debaser
3. !!!’s lead singer’s dance moves.
4. Almost crying when The Cure played Pictures of You.
5. Jumping into a random minivan with Whit only to find three high school girls who were very happy to see us.
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