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Festival Review by William Case |
{Indio, California / April 25th - 27th}
Born from seeds of love and music, under the mind melting heat and shining blue skies of the California desert, the Wide-Eyed family tree was planted at the Coachella Music Festival 2008. From blissful beginning to beautiful end, the festival was a place for all kinds of unique people with unique tastes and ideals to realize their unitedonesameness. For the Wide-Eyed family, Coachella stands as a big bang into a new existence with infinite possibility. WE explored the Coachella grounds from corner to corner, eyes peeled wide. The following is a bit of what WE observed.
First, Jack White of The Raconteurs was a sick, sick, son of a bitch. He should be put into a straight jacket and quarantined. Specifically, the fearlessness with which Jack White took on each solo was frightening. Like a man who had come to fully accept his ultimate demise, he left the planet on blues riffs that were just a matter of escaping earth’s gravity on the energetic notes of a wailing lead guitar. Having no desire to dwell on simple earthly concerns like pain and despair, expressing the blues was just a fact of life for The Raconteurs. Like life & death, the blues were real.
“Can I have a cold soda pop, sado pop, santo pop, Santogold pop?”
Santogold came on as a pop freedom fighter with an intense pulse. People hoping for some sort of R&B princess with easy listening, top-40 love ballads were swiftly kicked to the curb. Santo was a free spirit - free for herself and her music - the kind of act that reminded us that genuine expression is the art and genuine artists are expressive. Santo got the Gobi tent shaking itself loose.
“Can we un-pitch this tent if we dance hard enough?”
Next door in the Mojave tent Aesop Rock proved once again that tasty hip hop can be served at festivals usually catering indie rock. Chopping up the labels that define an artist or his style of expression, Aesop scribbled through the lines that sometimes divide and separate fans. Cooking up a unique musical expression in the form of funky beats and precise lyrics, Aesop baked a funky cake of hip hop goodness, and just about everybody with an appetite took a bite. After thoroughly enjoying the Aesop offerings, the Coachella fans were still hungry for more.
“Where’s the beef?”
Back at the Gobi tent, Datarock needed no reason to celebrate. Life was quite grand when the fun dudes in red jumpsuits hit the mic stands. Rolling punch lines and funky bass lines put the uptight smart guys in the corner shaking in their hipster cowboy boots. The rest of the crowd was just having a good time with Datarock. They were the free spirits that lead us past our self-conscious narcissism and our misplaced insecurities to a place where we could shake our funky tails freely.
“Why would WE need a reason to have fun?”
A violent explosion followed at the Outdoor Theatre. It appeared that a demolition crew had taken stage destroying everything in the vicinity. But upon further investigation…it was actually Serj Tankian screaming and wailing into the sky with the band that he lovingly refers to as the ‘Flying Cunts of Chaos’, or FCC. With an uncensored flair for rant and rage unlike anyone, Serj took on the darkened desert night with raw, unadulterated aggression; inspiring followers to confront the social problems of our day with tenacity. The Serj set was an explosive, furious flash of poly-rhythmic metal and mayhem. Oppression could not last when Serj represented the fury of the oppressed.
“Where’s the dance party?”
Fatboy Slim is regarded by some as an electronic pop genius. Appealing to everyone from power-walking grandmothers to soundtrack-seeking Hollywood producers, Fatboy Slim is the kind of artist that escapes boundaries with a simple backbeat. He took the Coachella crowd on a whirlwind tour deep into the record crates, spinning a melodic mix of music. Of course, DJs are known to dig through the crates for fun regardless of the credited composer, and Mr. Slim did a smashing fine job of sifting the sonic sands. In fact, it was the best that Fatboy Slim could do: Keep the party moving!!
“Can we be done for today?”
At the end of the night on Friday, Jack Johnson took the main stage for a set of his laidback wish-we-were-on-the-ocean jams. Most of the ladies in the crowd screamed for sex. ‘Jack! We love you! Take me!’ Like the dude was just going to step off the stage for a quickie.
“The groupie line starts behind the main stage, right?”
By the time the Jack Johnson set was in full swing, most people had fallen over stoned asleep in the grass, or started the hike back to tent city for drugs and sex. Day one of the Coachella Valley Music Festival was a certifiable success. Surely, the rest of the weekend was destined for greatness.
“Can we do this again tomorrow?”
On Saturday afternoon MGMT was put on the spot with too much inspired sweet pop to drop. The fans were eagerly anticipating their set from the jump and MGMT stepped up to the challenge. Like a bashful Bowie meets swirling 80’s disco pop rock, MGMT broke through the mid-day lulls to shine bright. Primed for more and more and more, the day two Coachella crowd was positively alive, pushing for experience like it was breathing room. Young mothers and old lovers, new others and twisted outfits abound.
“Geezus! What the fuck are you wearing today?”
Grounded in the fundamentals of rock, Scars on Broadway put forth a heavily classic formula for the swelling Saturday crowd. Unable to hide the Scars, rock & roll survived another day on the backs of this rugged group of axe handlers. And though most of the Coachella crowd spent day two grooving to the variety of electro-glitter musical acts, Scars were not playing to make shiny new friends. They were out to press the crowd with something heavier. Musically, it was not really metal and not exactly grunge - more of an even-tempered hard rock foundation with bullet proof lyrics. Scars proved to carry more and more weight as the tent continued to fill throughout the set, drawing a crowd that stumbled over from adjacent beer tents.
“Want something poppy to bring you to your senselessness?”
Meanwhile, Hot Chip was bouncing the crowd like a basketball in the Sahara tent. White lightning from a blue sky, Hot Chip shocked the fun-loving crowd with a bolt of pure pop explosion. It was a good thing that the tent didn’t have walls - there was no one standing still to hold them up. Unrelenting sweat was the only problem beyond figuring out how to most efficiently perpetuate a sustainable bounce. Right, left, right, left… “Do it, do it, do it, do it…” The crowd generated serious electrical heat, so fucking happy shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of sweaty geeks. A small piece of advice for those willing to brave future Hot Chip shows: Do it!
“How did she do that?”
Jenny Lewis led Rilo Kiley like the kind of super rock babe that makes entire hipster scenes swoon. ‘WE love her freaking style!’ And when she shook her axe with one hand held high, the entire crowd took a big gulp. ‘Delicious!’ Underrated was a word that came to mind, but then the hipsters reacted and everything was fine. ‘Find your own rock damsel to distress you!’ Jenny Lewis is mine.
“Can love at first sight be blinding?”
Recognized as originators in the world of electronic music, Kraftwerk brought a startling combination of visual and aural treats to the Coachella crowd. Listening to the original Kraftwerk music that has been sampled by everyone’s mothers was a revelation for many. And for those in the audience that produce sounds for a living, Kraftwerk was reveled as a model of sonic quality. While electronic instrumentals took mentals into new dimensions, the eye-snaring visuals were doubly delineating. Standing completely motionless in the middle of the California desert, the crowd was afflicted with unbounded wandering minds… “Boing, brummmpf, boing, brummmpf, tck, tck, tck, tck… boing, brummmmpf, boing, brummmpf, tck, tck, tck, tck…” WE were completely spaced out of our gourds.
“Did that just happen?”
Click here to see photos of Coachella in the Wide-Eyed photo gallery
