This trip is starting to feel epic-length, and I'm just two weeks in. OK, here we go:
(4/26/07) After waving goodbye to the Los Feliz neighborhood of LA, I took a circuitous route to get to the 10, per Marisa's instructions. I zig-zagged a bit to avoid the worst traffic spots and cruised out of town. You get a sense of just how big the greater Los Angeles area is when you
drive from its east side to its west. I felt like an hour had passed by the time I got to the outer reaches of Rancho Cucamonga and San Bernandino. After that, 10 has a whole lot of desert to show you. Desert and dusty canyons. It took me about 3.5 hours to get to Palm Springs.Since the camping area at Coachella wasn't opening for another couple hours, I decided to cruise 111 through town. What struck me was how unlikely the place is. Palm Springs is an oasis amongst an arid and unforgiving desert. The awnings of the shops and restaurants feature misting hoses to cool off passers-by. The palm trees are tall and healthy. The grass is lush bright, and is often trimmed as though a putting green. You know that if the water were interrupted for more than a week that every plant in town would perish. People walkabout with their water bottles and high-octane sunblock, glistening.
But over the horizon, you can see the desert at the perimeter. Dust canyons and starchy cactii are always there to remind you of where you really are. The place seemed very temporary to me. I could imagine how one day people would give up on such a peculiar use of resources. Abandon it, and watch it be swallowed by the desert. To be discovered by future anthropologists. Or perhaps a Tralfamadorian.
Anyway, I made my way through town, passing Bob Hope Blvd, thinking about Sonny Bono, and arrived at the festival in Indio, CA. Arriving when the campgrounds just opened was great for getting a good campsite. However, because I was a solo camper, I had to squish in with
other small-tent folks. Each person got a 7'x7' space. The LL Bean tent simply would not do, being 8'x10' or so. Thanks to my good friend Zack though, I had just the right size tent for the occassion. Its the coolest looking tent in the picture.Later that evening, they set up a giant inflatible monolith of a projector screen. The movie was the Led Zeppelin rockudrama "The Song Remains the Same." I'd never seen it before. Its a strange concoction, part kinda-like-The-Wall-but-notish drama, part concert footage, including backstage epiphanies and meltdowns. The screening of the film gets a big fat F from me. The film is very dark, with mostly nightime concert and indoor lighting. The screen was placed right in the center of 16-17 bright light towers, all aimed right at us, so you could barely make out what was on the screen sometimes. I thought that they should have chosen a much brighter film, like maybe "I Heart Huckabees." (http://imdb.com/title/tt0356721/). Then, the crew accidentally paused the film for a full minute. Later the entire right channel went out for a couple minutes. The volume was jumpy. AND, listening to Robert Plant in concert is difficult for me, as I'm only accustomed to hearing his albums. Robert plant does not sing in concert like you hear in Zeppelin albums. The crowd was nonplussed and nodding off. The enjoyable parts of the production included my very comfortable collapsable chair and the chili cheese Fritos I had brought with me. Overall the film gets a D, but it was still the coolest place to relax in the whole campground.
When it was over I went to my car to check the Red Sox score, they had beaten Baltimore 5-2, and Beckett had gone (5-0) in five starts. They were ready for the Yankees. Back in the campground, the festival goers would cheer and howl at the moon. The screaming would start at one end of the grounds and travel in a wave to the other. These people were excited. I was excited.
(4/27/07) The next day delivered a brutal sun and near triple-digit temperatures. I awoke with my face drenched in sweat. I learned that you need to wake up earlier than 8am. I used half a bottle of sun-block throughout the days I was at Coachella. Living in the Bay Area for the last seven years has definately reduced my tolerance for temperature extremes. All I could do
between 9AM and 4PM was sit very still in the best shade I could find. That, and drink lots and lots of water. The campground offers showers, and so I took three showers that day, just to cool off.Once 5 or 6pm comes though, the temperature became more or less perfect. I went into the venue at 6 or so. It took me an hour or two to walk around the entire grounds. The place is littered with fantastic sculptures and
machine-marvels.I caught about half of Jesus and the Mary Jane, in which Scarlett Johansson made an appearance. A nod to Lost in Translation. They sounded pretty good, although I've never really been a fan. (B) Later, I worked my way into the Coachella Stage crowd at the beginning of Interpol's show (the one before Bjork), hoping to get a better position once the show let up. I thought Interpol was boring. (C-)
And then the show I had come for.
Bjork came out wearing the strangest-looking mumu-type outfit I'd ever seen. Giant headwrappings and Willy-Wonka looking dress. A 10-piece neon-colored horn section came out with her. I was getting excited. She sang one of the songs off her new album, Volta. Bjork's voice sounded really great. Bjork's solo songs make far better use of her vocal talents than the Sugarcubes songs I heard last November. She then removed the shell of a costume to reveal a black and yellow striped grass-skirt dress. She sang
Hunter, which was chilling with the horn section back-up of trumpets, trombones, french horns, and a tuba (or maybe a barritone?) Then Joga, Unravel, Pagan Poetry, Army of Me, Pluto, Pleasure Is All Mine, Oceania, and then a couple others off the new album. Imagine, in the cutest little Bjork voice, her saying "Sank you very much. Its nice, to be out in the desert, with you." Smile. The first encore was Hyperballad. The second was off her new album, I think I had heard it once before. She didn't play any songs off of "Debut". All of the rest of her albums were
represented. Of all her albums, I think that "Homogenic" is the one which sounds the best in concerts. Like Phish's "Rift." What can I say, I was moved. It was seemingly over in an instant, and I had the post-concert glow. Bjork's shows always seem to last about ten minutes, until you review the songs she sang. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Marry Me Bjork. (A+)My feet, growing sore from miles of walking in sandals, prompted me to return to me tent.
(4/28/07) The next day was spent mostly hiding from the sun before the show. After waking I went to my car and fired up the coleman stove to make coffee. Only later, at my tent, did iced-coffee come to mind. I would trek out to take showers and buy ice. I went to the internet cafe tent, where you could utilize free wi-fi and employ this portable electrical socket wall to charge your gizmos. It was also a good spot for shade. I logged on to a very weak signal long enough to read about Red Sox games and check email. I was tempted to post a blog, but the connection was too shaky to try it.
I showered and then entered the venue, with sneakers this time. I arrived at the Sahara tent just in time to catch Andrew Bird. The opening song was a speeded up "I". The song was fun, but something of a fiasco as Bird's microphone was delivering electrical shocks. He would have his face right on it, when suddenly his whole body would wrench away as though, well, as though he were electrocuted. At the end of the song a tech replaced his mike and Bird joked about how the mike didn't like him. I'm sure the feeling was mutual. Unhindered then, he proceeded to wow the audience with his remarkable command of the violin. He can saw and pluck a violin as well as the best of them. It seemed to me that his guitar took a lot more concentration on his part. Possibly his best instrument though is his puckered mouth. Andrew Bird's whistling is so beautifully shrill and at perfect pitch that it upstages everything else. For half a minute or so, in-between songs, he did some impromptu Squirrel-Nut-Zipperesque violin pluckin' and a hummin'. Then went right back into his solo stuff, which is very non-Squirrel-Nut-Zipperesque. I enjoyed the performance immensely. (A-)
Next was Blonde Redhead. Right off the bat they sounded very tight. That lead singer has such a singular and enchanting voice. As most of the lights were on her, I found it hard to take me eyes off her. Yar. Overall, Blond Redhead played very arena-friendly songs. There was no place for the thoughtful and moody songs the likes of "Misery Is A Butterfly." Still, it worked, and I danced and danced. The highlight for me was In Particular, which at high volume causes involuntary dancing. I think I liked seeing them in SF a little better, but Blonde Redhead still melted my brain* a little. (A-)
After that, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The Chili Peppers played a long barrage of their more recent hit singles. Having already heard each of these songs about a qunituplebillion times on the radio, I was unmoved by their many songs that feature a single note sung/played over and over and over. I was aching to hear something off "BloodSugarSexMagic", but ultimately they only played one. The Red Hot Chili Peppers' set-list was disappointing, even though they showed masterful command of the their instruments. Flea was one happy camper onstage though. In between songs he would go on about how happy he was to be out in the desert with everyone, and how beautiful everyone was. (C-)
My dogs were pretty sore by the end of this show.
(4/29/07) On Sunday I woke up and promtly got myself a bloody mary and a breakfast burrito. Showers and cool shade siestas. Iced coffee. I found a nice shady spot behind a shower trailer, read half of Vonnegut's "Galapagos", and thought about how my brain was too big for its own
good sometimes.Into the venue. Willie Nelson played the Coachella stage at about 6:30pm. What a treat. Sunday was his birthday, and the crowd had lots of luvin for him. Everyone was dancing. He played mostly his classics, like Crazy and Momma Don't Let Your Babies..., some new songs he wrote while recovering from carpel-tunnel surgery, and then closed with I'll Fly Away recently more popular for its inclusion in the film "Oh Brother
Where Art Thou?" Willie often did the Willie Wave. He also had his sons playing alongside him, more notably one who plays one of the meanest blues guitar I've heard. He would rock out with hot licks while Willie covered the melody. He even had one song all to himself. His voice sounds nothing like Willie. Willie, you're cool in my book any day of the week. Thanks for the show. Happy birthday! (A)Next: Air. This was one of the shows I was looking forward to the most. I got myself a good spot in the
crowd and waited. And waited. The stage techs were fiddling with, adjusting, and replacing several items of equipment. Patiently, I waited. The techs would hold long commitees center stage as the show went ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes late. I thought: "This is going to seriously cut into my Ratatat-time." Finally, the show started with Cherry Blosssom Girl. It sounded really really good. They continued in the Talkie Walkie vein for four or five more songs. I was spellbound. The band sounded very tight, surpassing their album sound just a bit. And then it was over? Whaa happened!? The duo made half-hearted waves to the crowd and it was over. Apparently the technical difficulties had cut their play-time in half. Everyone frowned, but were happy to've seen even that much. What they played was brilliant, but the show didn't reach its full potential. (B+) I rushed over to the Sahara tent for Ratatat.
Ratatat had started right on time, and were into their first song when I arrived. Holy crap! This band, who has some amazing albums, sounded even better in concert. The tent was packed, and everyone was dancing. They played songs exclusively off of "Classics", and the crowd cheered loudly throughout. The cool thing about Ratatat in concert is that so many of their songs feature a clap-track. This often allows the crowd to participate in the songs. So much fun. You could tell, watching the crowd dance, that most people knew the songs note by note. The best was during Wildcat, the encore, when everyone would do the tiger paw swipe at the appropriate moments. Ratatat melted my brain*, and was the highlight of the night for me. I was brimming with joy (A).
Rage Against The Machine. RATM was the headlining act for the whole shebang. Since Rage hadn't played together for many many years, the crowd for it was gigantic. I couldn't get anywhere near the stage. I listened to four or five songs, Bombtrack being my favorite. Rage sounded polished, but Ratatat had put me in a mood for something different than heavy rocking. I walked over to the Outdoor Stage and caught the Lemonheads. There was really no audience at all. Everyone was at the Coachella Stage. I walked right up to the wall dividing crowd from stage and remembered songs I listened to in high school, most prominently Its a Shame About Ray. They didn't play their cover of Mrs. Robinson, as I had hoped. (B) Then I returned to catch the end of Rage. They closed with Freedom, and I had to rock out to that. Growing up, the song captured everything about my generation's adolescent anger. In high school, my friends and I would drive all over, screaming along to RATM, and we screamed the loudest for Freedom. Rage Against The Machine was clearly the darling of the festival, and they delivered. (A-)
After that, my tent. I was walking slowly on hobbly feet. Back at the campground, you could see that most people were walking with a slight limp. Three days of day-long concerts had taken their toll. But still, they cheered and howled at the moon. I sat outside my tent in that comfy chair, most of my immediate neighbors gone, and people-watched. Then sleep.
(4/30/07) I woke up nice and early at 6am, took a shower and quickly packed up before the sun could get too high. It took an hour to get out of the parking lot. A Denny's grand slam. And then I got back on the ten.........
You're not going to believe this, but as I type, a thunder-storm is roaring outside Jimena's condo - giant raindrops and crashing thunder. The forecast had been 10% for showers...it seems so unlikely to me.....and now its over. The sky opened up for five minutes and gave the Integra a much needed bath. What a rare sight in this desert.
So anyway, it took a six-hour drive to get to Tucson. I stopped in Phoenix for gas. Phoenix was as I rembered it when flying in and out of it en route to SF from El Paso. Red canyons and a very tidy looking city. I found Jimena's place with ease. Jimena is an old friend from my San Mateo days. In a move, not unlike my own move to California, she up and moved away from Arizona after finding Chad's and my place on Craigslist. With just a few phone calls, Jimena decided to move in with Chad and I. Chad and I were psyched, as we had been covering the three-bedroom rent between us. Jimena, Chad, and I lived very happily for the next year in sunny San Mateo. About a year ago, Jimena moved back to Tucson and I missed her. It was a happy reunion when she got home, and we later caught up a bit over mexican food at a nearby joint. And today (5/1/07), well, I've been writing this gargantuan blog, drinking coffee, and eating Grape Nuts.
That pretty much brings us to the present. I already told you about the five-minute thunder storm. Jimena recommended a local historic movie house called "The Rialto", so I'm going to investigate that a bit further.
To see all the pics:
http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN38A
I hope you are all doing well. I miss you.
More soon.
Andy
* An expression borrowed from my good friend Zack
1 comment:
Dude! That blog melted my brain!*
sounds like a great time, sad I missed it. stupid work. Keep goin man!
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