Tuesday, May 04, 2004

This weekend was Bananaz

Where to begin? I kind of alluded to the fun that was had on Thursday meeting Mark and Damore for the first time in person, seeing Snow Patrol on Kimmel, and staying out too late the night before the Coachella festivities. But on Friday night, we kicked it up a notch and turned a bad party into one of the best times ever. See Filter has this kick-off party every year, and usually they are good. This year however had the stench of a frat party, complete with Smirnoff drinks and shots. But being with Peabs, Mark, Damore and Co. made it one of my favorite parts about this weekend. I don’t think I laughed harder, or felt more instantly attached to people I just met ever. So. Much. Fun.

Coachella started out on Saturday with a death march for 3 miles from our parking spot to the grounds in the insane heat. Not a great start. Then went to see The Stills, who always impress. Afterwards, I attempted to see Stellarstar*, but opted to just sit outside the tent and listen. (Did I mention it was hot?) After Stellastar*, we walked past Death Cab for Cutie on the Outdoor Stage, absorbing as much of their performance as we could while we ran towards salvation (the VIP area.) While there, many ice cold hurricane/lemonade things were drunk, and met up with maybe a quarter of the people I knew going. Then we headed out to see The Rapture, which were great, but for some reason I had a case of the A.D.D. I don’t know what filled up the time between them and the Pixies, but all I know was that Adam Brody stood next to us during their performance and since I’m not really a fan of The OC, or him for that matter, so I felt no shame in asking him for a piece of gum. He looked at me with his bloodshot, squinty eyes and answered in an unintelligible way. You make your own conclusions there. The Pixies were great, by the way. Radiohead did their thing, which is also always good. Then we ventured over to Kraftwerk to see a bit of their performance. They’re like a boring version of The Blue Man Group, just standing before you in a line with laptops on a pedestal while a screen runs images and sentences behind them. We decided to stand outside and try to meet up with The Detroit posse, but once Radiohead finished, it seemed like the entire crowd started to descend towards the Kraftwerk tent. It completely freaked me out because they were all backlit and, of course, I liken it to a zombie invasion. So we took off to the parties, hitting up the Spin one first, then Urb. The only highlights at the Spin party was seeing Mischa Barton completely forget that she is now famous and her actions at a party like this will make the gossip rounds faster than you can say “grass stains.” And the second had to do with my skirt and it not being in place where it needed to be for a short time being. Note to self, next time you do the “bumping hips” dance with a friend, make sure your skirt returns to its normal position. The Urb party had TV on the Radio and Danger Mouse perform, and seemed to have a much better vibe to it. It still had the cool kids, but the kind of cool kids that weren’t afraid to have fun. But at that point it was 2am, we hadn’t sleep in three days, and couldn’t wait to get to bed.

Sunday, Stacy and I punked out (much like the boys punked out on Saturday night… just kidding. I love you guys.) and didn’t attempt to get to the festival until 5pm. Too bad traffic kept us from getting there until 6pm. Lame. But we were fresh and ready to tackle the crowds, so that’s just what we did. Dizzee Rascal, the most hard to understand man in music, started out his set saying “You know the words… Sing along,” while proceeding to rap in a language that might has well have been Pig Latin. If someone in the crowd actually did know the words, I would have been really impressed. Then it was Air, who are so French, and so good. Favorite performance from Sunday had to be Basement Jaxx. Holy crap, are they awesome. Then it was the Flaming Lips and The Cure. By this time, I was just getting amped up which left me unable to sleep at all that night, so I read Spin cover to cover and found it enthralling.

To sum up, though you may never find your friends in the massive crowds, you will repeatedly run into Howie Day and Jared Leto (not together however). While Jared Leto endured people approaching him for pictures and whatnot, Howie Day walked around without even one person trying to say hello (interesting what a little sexual assault stigma can do your game.) Traffic is a soul-sucking situation. Heat can make you apathetic towards some of your favorite bands. Not having cell reception is extremely frustrating. But seeing some amazing bands within a desert setting really is beautiful.

But Goldenvoice, next time can you hold this is in say, February, and only let in 30,000 people? Thanks. Smooch.

Pictures are forth coming.