Category Archives: music

Coachella IV music notes.

Remarkably, I’m not sunburnt. It was an impulsive situational decision to go, but I got back from Coachella last week and felt personally pleased and enriched to have survived my fourth Coachella. I went, I listened, I fasted. I don’t know exactly what temperature each day topped at, but the forecasts went 91-97-97. AKA: So not Nor*Cal weather. Still, through careful hydration and conscious under-tent positioning and ponying it up for an on-site bikini change (I’m really questioning why I brought those pleather shorts along…), I made it through!

Charlene was a great partner in attending. While we have different musical tastes, we overlapped on some of the best performances. And we both hate Phoenix. So.

Coachella IV

This is my favorite image from the weekend, but it’s out of focus and it’s driving me nuts.

Day 1

Mario Cotto, Raymond Roker at Yuma

I had to check out the Yuma tent, and it is a godsend in that weather! New to the site, it’s the only fully enclosed space on the fields (unless you count the individual port-o-potties, but yo, that’s gross). Equipped with fans, lit by spinning fixtures, and adorned by classic-inspired art, it was a cool cool place. Initially I breezed through just to get a sense of what the hype was about. I wouldn’t fully realize it until later.

Dillon Francis at Sahara

I just recognized his name and headed to Sahara. It was a great set, and set the energy just right for me for the rest of the weekend.

Metric at Coachella Stage

The first set I caught on the main stage. It wasn’t bad at all, but it wasn’t mind-blowingly good. I enjoyed it, but the most memorable moment was when they played one of Megan’s favorite songs and I texted her to let her know I was thinking of her.

Alt-J at Mojave

Right about this time I was working to avoid a heat reaction that was creeping up on my body. I sat in the way back, admiring from afar. Alt-J is one of those bands whose singer sounds significantly different from the album, which could be a little jarring to listeners. Also, I did not know they are British, but that’s a fact that I think is more fun to learn at a live show than it is through Wikipedia.

Four Tet at Yuma

Four Tet in blue.
Four Tet’s set was right around dinner time: 6 p.m. His ambient music has gotten me through many a work session, and being that I was close to overheating I figured I should strategically get myself into the Yuma tent for shelter. When I got to the area, though, it looked hopeless. The line wrapped around the center food court in an almost complete circle, and there were only ten minutes til start time. I didn’t see any other acts as notable alternates, and I was also too hot to wander around from stage to stage. Whatever. Brain fried, I purchased my “dinner” – frozen lemonade – and got in line, chipping away at the ice. Continue reading →

My date with Justin Bieber.

Justin Bieber Believe Tour

Saturday night, I played the twelve-year old I never was. Caroline was given free tickets to Justin Bieber’s Oakland leg of the Believe Tour, and I took her up on her invitation. This makes a lot of people balk, because why would a twenty-eight-year old voluntarily go to the tween heartthrob’s show when she has no kids to chaperone? It made my friends balk because they know me to be vehemently against all things “pop,” to the point that I will run off the dancefloor at a wedding if the DJ queues up “Call Me Maybe.” (I have and I will.)

So much shrilling going on right now.

So why did I say yes? While I’m not his target demo and gave the Spice Girls the only key to my pop-loving heart some fifteen years ago (Okay, so maybe Robyn gets some pop love from me now, too.), I simply couldn’t pass up a chance to see one of the world’s most renowned contemporary performers. He’s got swag, swerve, and an unparalleled dedication to his fans.

In most recent news, Bieber threw up on stage and still carried on the show. Whether he was drunk or ballooning with milk, you’ve got to give the guy props. Instead of breaking hearts that night, he basically verified his love and devotion to every preteen admirer in the house. They will never forget him, because he never abandoned them.

Earlier this summer, Gabrielle (Made You Famous Co-Founder and Red Magnet Media client) attended his performance at the Apollo. It was an intimate setting in a legendary venue. The power went out, but Bieber continued his set, singing “Boyfriend” a cappella complete with choreography and all.

What a consummate professional. I’m sure there are many adult stars who would have thrown in the towel that night.

Swaggy.

So anyway, after scoring some totally rad gear and seating ourselves next to some Google employees – our row clearly had the oldest average age out of any in the arena – we twisted n’ rolled our earplugs to give in to the Biebs.

The verdict? Honestly, it wasn’t my favorite show ever, but I’ve just got to say that the audience almost dominated over the headliner in my overall Justin Bieber experience. At the Justin Bieber show, you just can’t not be happy. All these girls, in their tutus and their glittery Chucks and their homemade puff paint proposals to the Biebs – I don’t see how any reluctant parent, sibling, or even little brother, could not enjoy him or herself. The fans know every word to every song. They know the dance moves. They already got the memo to hold up paper hearts for “[A Song I Don't Even Know],” and their eyes are aflame with this ridiculously insatiable look of love and adoration. This is likely to be the height of their lives for at least five years, and you can feel the electricity and excitement in your cheeks.

Every day is Valentine’s Day when you’re Justin Bieber.

You can also hear it in their shrill, shrill cries for all things Tween and Good. The necessity for earplugs is no joke. They’re all about to explode, and screaming is actually the least messy way for them to expel their energy quickly. Watch this video, but only on the lowest volume setting of your viewing device. I say that with all seriousness:

Continue reading →

This is for the jilted tenderoni in you.

Last week sosuperperson Sosupersam released a new mixtape beautifully titled We Found Ourselves Lost. Sam cites a Pierre Botardo collage and a, y’know, your standard emotional journey as inspiration for this easy-flowing trip through contemplative sounds.

There’s a lot of me in this, it might not make any sense.  I even sing on it at one point.  I made this for me as a way to clear my head and my heart, but maybe you’ll like it too.

Keep loving,

S

While I’m not going to speculate on the autobiographical details of Sam’s mix, I will say it got me thinking about those songs that become autobiographical to us (in the rhetorical sense). I was discussing Gotye’s almost too beloved “Somebody That I Used to Know” with somebody that I still know. To her, it was empowering for Kimbra. To me, it evoked the same sort of feeling as Postal Service’s “Nothing Better”. I then launched into a month-long cultivation of the ultimate melancholy playlist to the aftermath of a relationship. The playlist keeps growing and then whittling back down because I add and remove songs when they don’t prove to be perfect enough. Thus far, only two tracks have held their ground.

My mind specifically lingers on two good-riddance relationships as this playlist forms:

But! Enough of this sobering talk. Click on the album art or click here to download Sam’s mix in its entirety. Full tracklist below the cut. Continue reading →

Coachella 2012: The B-Sides.

Miike Snows us the way.

The second iteration of Coachella 2012 just wrapped up, and while I didn’t attend Round II, I do feel like I’m still getting out of a state of recuperation with the rest of them.

Here, some thoughts on how to survive three days in the desert with the first Festival rain since 1999:

Carpoolchella

Not to be confused with the well-intentioned group transit campaign officially organized by Coachella and Golden Voice. I stayed in a house with about fifteen other people (You’ll notice I don’t know the exact number because I was a hanger-on, happy to be largely uninvolved in formal acts of responsibility like keeping a headcount.), so getting to the grounds wasn’t as simple as hopping in one car, or even calling same seats for the trips back and forth.

No, for the weekend of Coachella (as with Stagecoach and golf-y things, I’m sure), the entire vicinity of Palm Springs turns out in keenly resourceful ways. To make a buck. We took our first few rides with “Jane,” ten of us squeezing into the back of her van at a time.

I know the answer to “How many clowns can you fit in a car?” because we paid (cash) to be those clowns. Strewn across what would be the back seats if there were back seats. And seat belts.

We’d hear “Duck, please!” whenever Jane drove by a cop car. It seems the police in the area know their locals, what with their get-rich-quick schemes of charging upwards of $10 a head for a one-way trip to the show and back.

Sea of Knees, please.

Alternatively, you could take a cab from IHOP back to your weekend lodging at two in the morning, but you might get the driver with a voice box from decades of chain smoking like Navi and I did but were too tired to be frightened by.

Aside from the economic stimulus that these weekends of entertainment bring to the town, in addition I’ve been observing how much a two-weekend sandwich of the same lineup completely saturates California music venues with derivative concerts and shows. It’s like Coachella is Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Miike Snow check-ins popping up in your home feed are the spinoffs of Angel. (I actively dislike Joss Whedon so it took me a while to write that.)

Charge your phone.

Y’know how I’m OCD and can’t leave the house for more than four hours without just my phone, but also my mobile USB charger? This is why I can’t fathom being without 100% battery. Go to a convention and you get familiar with the harried state of meeting up and texting urgently and catching time-sensitive messages thwarted by impacted signals. Coachella is like that, except 75% of the convention goers are also on drugs. Continue reading →

“Did you see Tupac?”

Asian Girls EVERYWHERE

"Did you see Tupac?"The last time I went to Coachella I was single. It’d been a few years – nearly five, to be more specific (and thus ends my excuse to link to Bill’s birthday bee sting cocktail). Unsurprisingly, I had another great weekend. The people watching was strong and the rain merely drizzled. There was music – and how! – and it was the first time my Canon G12 got to make it to Indio. Pics here. As much work as it takes to get down to Indio, I’m considering hitting up it up for a fourth time next year.

But was it epic? I’m sure that depends on who you ask, but I think this photo is:

Coachella 2012High Apple Pie in the Sky Guy

While Charlene and I were watching Radiohead, a blonde guy with uniquely messy hair disconnected from his brother and his brother’s girlfriend to dance alongside two cute, Radiohead-loving blonde girls. Though they spoke to him and everyone seemed to be smiling and happy, they didn’t dance with him, so he seemed to give up – sunny disposition unperturbed – and started dancing over to where his brother (also blonde with feathers – not feather extensions – woven into his hair) and his brother’s girlfriend were canoodling. Original Blonde starting talking to his brother, but it being a concert, it was way loud, so Original Blonde had to step in closely to speak directly into his brother’s ear.

But Original Blonde did not stop dancing as he spoke to his brother, oh no. He kept dancing. He put his arm around his brother to get leverage and be heard clearer. He put his other arm around his brother. He kept dancing. He pulled his brother away from his brother’s girlfriend so he could dance with his arms around his brother’s waist – oh.

I guess they weren’t brothers.

Thom Yorke sang.

They danced.

Eventually the guy who is not Original Blonde’s brother went back to dancing with his girlfriend who is probably not his girlfriend, but Original Blonde kept dancing.

Original Blonde then whirled around, zeroed in on the bearded man next to me wearing a sequin cowboy hat and vest, and hugged him around the neck. “Man, I love your outfit,” I heard him say.

He went back to dancing.

Original Blonde whirled around a second time, zeroed in on Charlene, and hugged her around the neck. “You look just like my cousin.”

Lucky Charlene.

This is why we Coachella. Continue reading →