Thursday, April 23, 2009
Coachella 2009 - Why I'll Be Attending in 2010
My weekend was fully set aglow. Not just by the colors emanating from MIA's fashion forward fit that she rocked Saturday night on the main stage. It was a combo of highly anticipated performances, pleasantly surprising sets out of groups that were previously unknown to me, the infusion of art, the clouds of smoke, the scorch of the sun and the scores upon scores of men and women of all ages looking for a little fun under the Palm Spring desert sun.
I came into the experience a bit apprehensive about what the festival would hold. Exhibiting all of the naivety to be expected from a first timer, I thought that a day or a day and a half of rock, techno and everything else in between would wear me out and leave me wishing that I had not purchased passes for all 3 days of the festival. Yet, the first set from Crystal Castles under the fading Friday sun proved my anticipations wrong. A set led by a lead singer who was completely and utterly incomprehensible (see here) left me bitten by the Coachella bug. It didn't take actual lyrics to convince me that I was exactly where I needed to be.
The moments that followed my Coachella baptism couldn't possibly be detailed in a single blog post. However, I can tell you that for a short few days, I felt myself embracing the hippie lifestyle. "Free Love" certainly seemed to be the theme as live music provided the backdrop for scantily clad members of each sex and their chance meetings with new and old friends alike at the festival.
As I stood or laid upon a field of grass softer than carpet, I often found myself drifting away into a surreal daze. Scenes from the festival closely resembled scenes from a movie. Life was lived in high definition as boy (read: I) met girl, boy met friends and boy met bands. Myself, just one of many typically tightly wound individuals looking to become as unwound as we possibly could while the festival ran.
Coachella is bigger than music and it's bigger than art. It's about being surrounded by thousands of people you don't know and that you'll likely never see again. Although the moment is fleeting, you stand amongst the mass of humanity wishing the weekend could last forever.
And then...much to your chagrin it ends. You leave the desert and head back to civilization. Tightly clutching everything that you can physically and experientially take away with you. Hoping all along that you'll get the do it all over again next year.
I don't how to say it any other way. This is my love letter to Coachella.