MUSIC: The West Coast’s largest music festival, Coachella, is now behind us.
By Cole Nelson, Diversions Editor
As a puny sophomore in high school, I bought tickets to that year’s Coachella Music and Arts Festival to tag along with a group of friends. Unfortunately, I mistakenly purchased a ticket for the second weekend while my friends bought tickets for the first. I was forced to sell my ticket to the highest buyer and enjoy the festival from the comfort of my own room through YouTube’s live stream of the event.
I remember watching Saturday’s headliner Radiohead through a five-by-seven-inch screen on my computer. It was late, probably nearing midnight at that point, and my little sophomore eyes could no longer fight the gravity that would inevitably cause me to fall asleep. I decided that I would stay up to watch Radiohead perform one more song, one of their hits “Karma Police.” Of course, the performance was amazing, but what struck me as exceptionally surreal—even from my darkened bedroom—was that after the band played their last notes, the audience hadn’t had enough. They continued singing, almost in an entranced state, the final words of the song: “For a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself,” and indeed I did. I closed my eyes (voluntarily, this time) and imagined I was synchronously swaying with the thousands upon thousands of fans who undoubtedly got their money’s worth.
That moment was the first time in my life that I had ever been truly moved by any sort of music to such a degree. In the time succeeding that night—month after month, to the extent of a year—I knew that the only way to surpass the musical euphoria I had that night was to experience Coachella in person, mano y mano. After a year’s worth of hard work, chores and birthday gifts, I was able to purchase (and keep) a ticket for Coachella 2014.
Although I purchased my ticket nearly a year in advance, I remained fairly clueless about what to expect at the festival. Word had it that you would be inevitably immersed in some sort of music at all times and that in every direction you looked, there would be a swarm of sociable strangers who treated you as if they had grown to know you over years of time. While both are absolutely true—the latter being true on account of a certain level of intoxication in the masses, but also a shared elation amongst everyone—my experience at Coachella shows that both are quite understated.
As I was told, it certainly is impossible to escape music at Coachella (although I don’t see this as a problem). Even while concealed inside a Port-a-Potty in the festival parking lot, I was able to enjoy the live music that permeated throughout the air. With six remarkably large stages set up in a fairly small proximity, each having a countless amount of speaker systems, with musicians constantly performing, my ears were painfully overjoyed. On the day following Coachella weekend, everything sounded as if an unpoppable pressure had built up inside my ears, similar to that of sinus congestion or elevation gain (in fact, the sound of nothingness was a constant ring). Of course, this had no affect on my appreciation of the music during the festival.
The music alone is reason enough to place Coachella at the top of my list of most cherished experiences. However, in addition to the wonderful and innumerable performances, the general audience is one that saturates the fields of Coachella with euphoric life and appreciation for music and art. There is not a single soul, in my experience at least, who could hold a forced frown for more than a few seconds. Everyone, for the extent of the three days, was at the peak of excitement, energy and exhilaration to be listening to a myriad of musical talent. With exception to the minimal moshing at Flatbush Zombies and Queens of the Stone Age, the entirety of the crowd was calm and amiable, with the sole intent of enjoying the music to the best of their abilities. There was the occasional crowd surfer (I was weighed down at one point by a man in a sumo wrestling suit), but the crowds were so dense that I considered myself lucky to assist whomever across the sea of hands.
Ending Sunday night with Arcade Fire was considerably the most impeccable ending to an already impeccable weekend. Their show easily carried the most vitality of all of the performers I viewed. Being a band that produced an entire album that deals with the nostalgia of suburban childhood, The Suburbs, their performance set me up for my current state of nostalgic reminiscing of the perfect weekend.
As for now, I can guarantee that there will be no lawn that goes unmowed or car unwashed until I raise enough money for next year’s Coachella Music and Arts Festival.
Photo courtesy of www.prettymuchamazing.com