Coachillin' in the middle of the desert

As the majority of us were nursing our livers back to operating condition and re-cooping from the debachorous times of intersession, the procrastinating event organizers of Coachella were hard at work to put the finishing touches on Southern California’s closest
relative to Woodstock. After months of blogosphere hype and speculation, the lineup and details of the extravaganza were finally dropped to the amazement of some and to the let down of others.
As always I will focus on the negative aspect of things first. Rumored to kick off their next world tour at Coachella, Daft Punk will not be gracing us with their illuminated
Egyptian pyramid command center or their electronic tunes this year. Instead the promoters have done a more than decent job of compiling good electronic acts such as Erol Alkan, Proxy and 2manydjs; but there are also a few names which could prove to be an attraction for the insects. Tiesto, Deadmau5 and David Guetta will surely bring out the worst in ecstasy consumers/trance trash that their genre has to offer. To all PLUR advocates planning on writing me death threats, please forward your sediments of peace, love, unity and respect in anthrax -laced envelopes to 1234 EZ St. San Diego, CA 92109.
Mainstreamification has also spritzed itself on Coachella this year, not only with a few artists, but monetarily as well. As we all know, the current state of the economy could be compared to Anna Nicole Smith’s problem solving skills, and whether you’re flasking it out at the bars, getting tested at Planned Parenthood on a weekly basis merely for the free surplus of condoms they provide, or living off cans of beans and Tapatio, everyone is pinching pennies.
Knowing this, Coachella this year has decided to only make available threeday passes at the not so bargain price of $309 after Ticketmaster spreads their smallpox blankets of service fees amongst you. There are ups and downs to this, but for those who can only afford and only want to attend one day of the festival, it is a huge damper.
This also reflects the type of target market Coachella is shifting towards. In prior years Coachella was geared towards the underground guerillas of the music world who spat at mainstream USA and its imperialistic profiteering ways. Now it seems the event is catered for the upscale members of society (wonder how many USD students will attend?) who can afford a $300 concert ticket along with all the necessary supplies for the weekend. If you sit down and write out your estimated expenses on paper it comes out to well over $500 for most people, and that’s before your third pill kicks in causing you to spend $100 dollars on bottled water while peaking in the middle of the desert. Coachella has tried to combat the single-day pass boycott with more lax rules on the camping and entrance and exit freedoms which should be noted, but still, it’s a sour situation.
On the bright side of forcing your customers to buy a three- day pass, it allows us to liberate ourselves and get a real “music festival” experience. Whenever I’m at adult parties, casually chatting and trying not to lose control of my alcohol consumption while talking to middle-aged people who may someday employ me after I quit nipple-nibbling in college; I always wish I could have experienced the magical late ‘60s festival experiences our parents were fortunate enough to live through.
Even though I know the majority of these adult cocktail party stories are just subliminal hints to tip me off that they would be “down to puff a j on the side yard if I was packing any,” I truly admire the filth, grime, “peaceful” chaos and raw energy that these people absorbed in their youth before they consumed all of the world’s oil and kind of screwed the next generations.
Everything else put aside, Coachella looks to be one hell of an adventure this year. The lineup is something to be looked forward to with bands from all over the spectrum blessing our broke budgeted state with their presence.
We’ll have Grammy superstars who aren’t dressed like abstract glass blown statues of Shiva (Lady Gaga), such as MGMT and Phoenix in the house, who are both sure to put on memorable performances.
Also, the recent anthem makers of corporate America/ Blackberry cellphones, Passion Pit, will be in attendance, BBMing each other on stage in hopes of inspiring change like Barack did in all the iPhoners. I’m looking forward to The Dead Weather rocking out in a true to form badass Jack White fashion, as well as being soothed by the sounds of The xx with a really beautiful 2010 version of a flowerchild I meet at the festival.
Last but not least, I am looking forward to my first Thom Yorke musical experience, which I have heard will rival the best day of one’s life, only next to, of course, the day you crash your Escalade into a tree and get caught sleeping with over a dozen women. If all else fails, the memories from the festival will at least give all those in attendance an indirect way to summon their friend’s teen/young adult children for doobies at Christmas parties and other social networking venues that aren’t Facebook as we grow old and our lives deteriorate to nothing.