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Coachella 2012 Weekend Two


When I saw that Coachella 2012 was rolled out for two consecutive weekends as the exact same festival, I immediately set aside time and cash for both – one with my friend Brian, and one with my lovely girlfriend Coco.  (We even called the weekend Cocochella, for maximum cuteness.)  Brian and I signed up for the first cold-as-ice weekend, and I flew out of and back to Detroit; it made for a bit of a drive there and back, but a flight with no stops was what I wanted.  However, Coco and I made the innocent mistake of flying out of Pellston, which ended up pushing back our arrival into Palm Springs the night before by at least five hours, which made for a series of unplanned pains in the ass.  (Seriously, our asses hurt from so much sitting.)  The only benefit was at Hertz, who put us into a new white Mustang instead of the car I’d reserved.  Once we got out to Palm Springs, however, I noticed it was warmer than when I’d left it a few days ago.  Quite a bit warmer.

There's no way around it -- Coachella 9.2 (my ninth straight year of attendance, second weekend) was hot.  I’m not just talking about “hot for Palm Springs this time of year,” but actual north-of-100s temperatures every single day.  (In fact, it wasn’t below 105 for any of the days we were there.)  So out came the 100 SPF sunscreen and the hats and the multiple bottles of water, and still it was some intense shit to endure.  But despite the scorching temps, the “sanctified moments” were thankfully still in abundance.

Part of the fun for me was watching Coco experience Coachella for the first time; I could watch her take it all in, and I could have my own first-time experience of having the one I love by my side as I used port-a-potties.  After we hydrated, we took in all the sets Friday had to offer, from the full (Gary Clark Jr., Madness, Pulp) to the partial ( EMA, SebastiAn, Madeon, Death Grips, Dawes, GIRLS, Arctic Monkeys, Atari Teenage Riot, Mazzy Star).  For me, Pulp still ruled the day, but Madness – as the sun went down and the merciful shadows came – entertained effortlessly.  Then again, I'm old.

Saturday was the hump day for weather, much like it was the weekend before – you knew what to expect, but it still kicked you in the vitals, no matter how much shade you hid in.  Thankfully, the music provided ample distractions, be they full gigs (Feist, St. Vincent) or partial performances (Noel Gallagher, Bon Iver, Radiohead, Andrew Bird, tUnE-yArDs, Jeff Mangum, Jacques Lu Cont, Laura Marling).  It was nice to see that Jeff Mangum, the Neutral Milk Hotel leader who held the stage alone, was in fine voice; also, watching Feist guide her big band through her catalog (which mercifully didn’t include “1 2 3 4”) was an evening pleasure.  And St. Vincent was just as killer this weekend as she was the weekend before.  After just a touch of Radiohead, it was off to the exits.

Sunday started just before noon, with the full set from Fanfarlo, one of Coco’s favorites.  Thankfully, they were up to the task, giving their best material some solid performances.  After Fanfarlo – the only full set we saw Sunday – it was a simple matter of endurance, and although we enjoyed some bits and pieces here and there (Lissie, Metronomy, First Aid Kit, Real Estate, Santigold, Fitz and the Tantrums), it was clear that we both had reached the wall.  So even though we left some shows on the table – with special regret for missing Justice and Florence + The Machine and Beruit – we decided that the hotel pool and a sit-down restaurant and blissful sleep in air conditioning was the winning bet.  So for the first time, I left a Coachella day in the daylight, which turned out to be the easiest Coachella exit I’ve ever had.  And we both knew it was the right decision when, on the way back to the hotel, we saw a restaurant by the name of Coco’s.  A great postscript to a wonderful weekend.

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