May 01, 2005


First off, Happy Birthday Britt Barton Lindsay, on your twelveth 18th birthday. Here's to a thousand, more. Here is to immortal life. Here's to spending retirement on a houseboat in the Ozarks together, too.

What I learned at Coachella yesserday: Immortal life es possible . I know, because Peter Murphy was there. And I would just like to preface my Bauhaus hyperbole with this --I never was goth, and have never liked Bhaus enough to even pick up a record. Now I will say this: BAUHAUS WERE SO FUCKING UNFADABLE ANG GOTH-SOME. PETER MURPHY WAS FLOATED ON TO STAGE HANGING UPSIDE DOWN LIKE A BAT VIA INVISIBLE WIRES AND HUNG SUSPENDED MID AIR AND DID "BELA LUGOSI'S DEAD" - ARMS FOLDED COFFIN STYLEN CROSS HIS CHEST MIC IN HAND GOING "UNDEAD/UNDEAD/UNDEAD" over that simple bass descention. I Screamed "OH MY GOD!" uncontrollably! I felt like Ultragrrrl or something.

I got the chills they were so... perfect . I got a gang of pictures of the bat dance in action. PM was wearing a little out fit that was probably really fancy but look't like 70's ski pants and a secretaries night out blouse. I think he was wearing a girdle too, he looked squished in the middle like a toothpast tube. Keeping the goth-skeletor steez into your 50s is an impossible ideal, surely, plus, dude lives 5 hours outside of Istanbul, like, who's he gotta look good for? Teams of oxen? Daniel Ash looked about 31 still. Here's to 45 spf and heavy reverb as youth preservation tools.

Aside from that, I will tell you this: There is not really much to "write" about. The bands were "good". Seeing them outside is "fun". There is not much "angle" on this thing. Coachella is (allegedly, according to SPIN) trying to bring the European style fest to US soil, but it's still working from a frayed template of Lollapalooza's too-much-of-everything ecclecticism & amuesement ideas -- terrible art exhibits, good cause booths etc. They were showing the Minutemen documentary ona big screen, but we found this out as we were leaving at midnight-plus, and Coldplay was playing "yellow" and it was like being the dressing room at Express, but with 97,000 other people, and then that's juxtaposed against someone rhapsodizing on D Boon. To that I was like "?". Also: I saw Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake in the vee-eye-pee. She was adjusting her boobs and pretending like she did not have an audience of 300. He looked mad scrubby. I have something against any rich white man who dresses like a dumpster dive B-boy. Sage Francis was fiery and looks Rasputiny. Perry Farrell had a Dj asst, and is totes keeping 97 globo-rave sounds alive, all while wearing some Victoria's Secret catalog bolo-blouse. Spoon was the best I have ever seen them, playing the new rec in this muted and speedy way that was like sinister Devo. Maybe not muted - clipped. Clipped! thats the word. Mercury Rev was pretty fantastic and I thought they would be more like, fat wizard-y dudes with long hair, all hobbity, caftans and long tone nails, but they were trim, queer-chic-y and couture piratey and brought theatre to the dramatic gtr dialogue they peirced all comers with. I saw Weezer and Wilco from like, a qrtr milkes away. Wilco felt good, and I have never even liked them. They were like The Band with just the quiet moments and the only dynamics come from B3 organ trilling, not um... solos and hats with feathers in them. Weezer - well, I hope they shrivel up. Soon. Like a turd in the desert sun.

An aside: I hope that one day there may be a day when certain people in certain bands, people who are known pervs/pedos, can no longer procure the service of 15 and 16 yr old girls, and that those people will not be staring at us from the cover of glossy newstand magazines, pimping them and ignoring the statutories in the green room cos that band sells mags, cos teen pussy is a god given right for the famous, and cos Amerikkka jacks to the vicarious fantasy. FYI: I'm not talking about any band in particular. In fact, I am probably talking about almost of them.

Also, I saw one Zap Mama song and they were such tite Ju-ju-disco. The Kills were "sexy" rather than fonking sexy. Ben Dickey and Ben Fasman both gave diligent texting performances all day long. MF Doom was solid, and after shooting like 55 RAD pictures of him and scribbling notes, I realized I now have a conflict of interest and cannnot write about him. I was mad at him, he had his baby (I assume it was his) ON stage in a stroller, no earplugs or protective ear gear. Actually, I was furious. A baby is not a decoration.

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Posted by Jessica at May 1, 2005 04:23 PM | TrackBack