Coachella: Redux

The Last Coachella '08 Bit You'll Read

By Dave Smith
Published: May 29, 2008
Photography by Liz Wilson

Now that I’ve fully recovered, I can properly reflect on Coachella 2008 – sorry, I’m old but, thankfully, my elephant memory remains intact. As a live music loving lad, I envied my festival going counterparts across the pond as they shuttled from Glastonbury to Roskilde, on over to T in the Park and then come August, from Sziget to Pink Pop, concluding their summer sojourns at Reading, having bagged virtually every noteworthy act of the day.

Sure, stateside we had the Lollapalooza tour and then didn’t and now do again, but only as a one-off in Chicago. Gathering of The Tribes – whatever that was – accomplished little more than leading Nick Cave to pledge that he’d never again perform on American soil (or was that Lollapalooza? I forget). Jazzfest in New Orleans? The food rocks harder than the lineup. Plus, how many times can one person endure Bonnie Raitt, as a headliner, no less? Ozzfest? Vans Warped Tour? You get the picture.

Thankfully, those old punkers at Goldenvoice saw the filthy lucre potential in delivering a truly eclectic festival packed with heavyweights, soon-to-be knowns and unknowns all in the middle of the fucking desert. That’s a good thing. There’s something inexplicably familiar about the desert in a Quest for Fire sort of way. It’s a return to naked simplicity that soothes (and sweats) the soul. Or is it the unapologetic and crippling brutality of the 3-day, 100 degree average sans breeze that requires continual adaptation and change? My existential dilemma aside, at a minimum the desert air would help me get my lizard on for the roughly 120 artists slated to perform at this year’s Coachella Festival. Presuming that isn’t pedigree enough (as if this would be) Rolling Stone called Coachella, “one of the most beautiful festival sites in the world.”

Roger that.

Here’s a sampler of some of the festival’s notable action:

Good Friday

John Butler Trio

I like Butler’s records alright, and he provided pleasant enough entrance music to survey the strata. Unfortunately for John, most people at this point, are already sweating bullets in traffic cranking Rave Un2 the Joy Fantastic, trying in vain to affix a paper wristband that will last through “3 days of peace & music” or trying in vain to get said wristband. If he ever liberates himself from the shackles of his Dave Matthews, Jack Johnson and G. Love and Special Sauce opening slot itinerary - and the resulting jam band pigeonhole - the guy’s got well-honed guitar chops worth investigating should he headline a club near you.

The Breeders

To sum up The Breeders set, I offer you a bird’s eye view of the engagement by way of between-song stage banter. Here it is, presented chronologically and verbatim:

(Singing the first line of the opening song of their set) “I can feel it….”
(False start) “Wait. We couldn’t feel it. Start again.”
“Are you ready?”
[Finishing up the song] “I didn’t think that song would ever fucking end!”
(Feedback squeal) “That was really weird.”
“Difficult new song.”
“You guys ready?”
“Am I too loud? Are you looking at me because I’m too loud?”
“I’m talking to her. Am I too loud?”
“What part of you – your mouth or your guitar?”
“Is that good? Did I do it good?”
“Ha!”
“I thought that was pretty.”
“I don’t like your guitar up on that rafter … I don’t like your guitar up on that scaffolding. It sounds horrible. Do I just sound like I’m bitching up here the whole time? I like you though.”
“Ready? Ready?”
“We’re gonna do this song … (false start) “I can’t hear your drums very well. Mary, can you put some drums in the side fill? And maybe some bass?”
“Nice bass, Mondo.”
(Feedback) “That needs pick-up.”
“You can take your guitar out of the wedge now.”
“Oh great.”
“Why are people yelling? Everybody’s yelling at me up here! I’m not doing anything wrong!!”
“Ready?”
“Can’t see red lights in the sunlight, Ray.”
“On or off?”
“Vicious.”
“Is that on?”
(Feedback) “Noisy little thing. Okay, I’m ready.” (More feedback)

[To their credit, they then spun an inspired version of their biggest hit “Cannonball”].

“Is that too loud?”

[Then comes an eyebrow-raising version of The Beatles’ Happiness Is a Warm Gun”]

“INDIE!”
“How much longer do we have?”

It’s always refreshing to see main stage invitees locked and loaded for their shot at blowing people’s minds. Next.

And I love bootlegs … usually.

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