Jacqueline R. Torres
Mushrooms go great with pizza but better with music and art under a desert sky.
Driving the 160-mile voyage in my VW Microbus began the adventure with a vibe reminiscent of the clogged highway that led to Yasgur’s farm in 1969.
In a time when even the memory of Woodstock has been reduced to commercialism and violent, angst-filled youth, the chance to find peace, music and art was upon me: Coachella Music and Arts Festival 2006.
This was the first year I attended and I found what I was looking for, but something more lurked around the scene of indie rockers and half-clothed hippies.
I have never liked the Ug boots and skirt trend, but have never seen a more inappropriate place for that look. These fat footed girls were as out of place as Madonna was on the line-up.
To make this clear the concerts were in no way interrupted or ruined by Madonna’s pathetic 30-minute set and I had a blast, ignoring both her and her “fans.”
The “rock festival” is about having a different music experience from the typical corporation-infiltrated regurgitation of pop.
It’s about thousands of people putting themselves in a situation they would not normally be in, to feel unified and take in the music. I knew I had to go. It was a pull beyond my own will.
My line-up: The Dears (Mohave Stage), Matisyahu (Coachella Stage), Paul Oakenfold (Sahara Stage), Gnarls Barkley (Gobi Stage), Seu Jorge (Gobi Stage), Mogwai (Outdoor Theatre Massive Attack (Coachella Stage) and Tool, Coachella Stage
Nobody really rocked the place until Mogwai went on. They lulled a parched crowd until all were closely nuzzled to the trodden lawn. Everyone laid down, watching the light fade to night . It was magic.
Huge spotlights circled the whole venue and met at a point in the center of the starlit sky.
The music crept out into the sandy mist and with no words at all, sang a tune everyone there found harmony with.
Then Mogwai’s cascades of electric rock set the place ablaze.
It was a perfect prequel to Massive Attack. With fast facts on the inset of fascism in America’s dealings both domestic and foreign scrolling behind them, Massive Attack propagated an uprising throughout the waves of people gathered at the Coachella Stage.
In their first U.S. appearance, Robert Del Naja led the band from a sweet start to a spectacular finish.
But when Massive Attack was done the night was still incomplete. Some had been there all day, sacrificing watching other bands, to hold their stake on a square foot of space where they would watch Tool play for the first time since November 2002.
I waited, squeezed, sun dried and sleepy for Tool to begin their set. I held my breath. I jumped as high as I could to see if the stage hands were done setting up. I lost my friend.
But as Maynard James Keenan let his first words hit the mic, I found that I had made thousands of friends- for that one day- in the desert.
There are no words for what Tool can do to you. We got what we came for- losing oursevles to the music.