My First Coachella

The author in front of Coachella's giant moving astronaut

I am no festival amateur. I've staked tents at jam-a-thons like Bonnaroo, Electric Forest and Camp Bisco; I've reveled in PLUR at more neon-soaked soirées like Ultra, EDC and HARD. But Coachella has always been my holy grail, with its lavish setting, an endless reserve of gorgeous women with flowers in their hair, and the most legendary headliners in all of the lands.

One thing that struck me about Coachella: I have never seen such an iconic display of American Youth Culture. Every millennial group was in attendance and flaunting their various forms of membership, from the sloganeering tank tops to the feather headbands, lace tops, fringe moccasins, and septum peircings. Staring into the vast expanse of hot, on-trend, and overwhelmingly white twentysomethings, I wondered if I was secretly being filmed for an American Apparel commercial. The Essential Truths of Coachella unfolded in front of me like a blossoming flower, and for the next three days I found myself studying their intricacies like an anthropologist filing a report on a newly discovered civilization. Wandering through clouds of grade-A medical greenery, into crowds of dehydrated masses, and past monumental installations that give Burning Man a run for its money, I found myself in awe of the scope of the festival. Just like your first time having sex, it was a learning experience. Let me tell you about it:

I SPENT FAR TOO MUCH TIME IN THE YUMA TENT

Photo credit: Jason MacDonald . Disco Jaws' Shark Art by NYC Artist Kevin McHugh. 

The Yuma tent was air conditioned. AIR CONDITIONED. And while the Saraha Tent—the megastructure that would host many of EDM's biggest names—drew most of the people in SEX DRUGS & DUBSTEP shirts, I could not pass up the cool, shaded house and techno hub. Imagine a rave cave where the only light beams are reflected off of disco balls (one of which is shaped like a shark), where CO2 blasts float over the crowd, and a spring-loaded wood panel dancefloor gives dancers that extra bounce. It was more like an Ibiza nightclub than a festival stage.

The growing popularity of the Yuma is an indicator of the house explosion that's rocked the US over the last few years, and its rapid crossover into the realm of mainstream festival culture. The tent's hypnotized, sweat-soaked occupants ranged from seasoned house heads and bandana-clad bros to half-naked gay dudes sucking each other's faces, plus the swarms of the Soundcloud generation who know all know the words to MK's dub of Storm Queen's "Look Right Through." I overheard conversations about underground heroes like Dixon, accolades about Lee Foss' recent set at L.A. nightclub Sound, and detailed accounts of trips to Avalon to see John Digweed. This was the cultural currency at Yuma.

On the first evening, it took nearly being trampled in a stampede to see Duke Dumont throw down his highly anticipated set, but it was worth it. The Duke showed while he's one of the most promising stars in the business with a 90-minute medley of thumping basslines and hands-in-the-air, piano house euphorics that brought the entire tent together in communal ecstasy. Damn, Duke.

Photo credit: Jason MacDonald  

The Magician, who is synonymous with radio-friendly remix-a-licious house music, played to a packed tent that was gobbling up his melodic crowd-pleasers like kids in a candy shop. This guy's sound exemplifies the approachable, crossover status of house music and was a no-brainer addition to the lineup. Donning his classic tuxedo getup he segued through many of his popular sing-along remixes and funky four-to-the-floor rhythms. He definitely has the magic touch.

Guy Gerber, the Israeli techno artist who's been making headlines as of late due to a forthcoming album with P. Diddy, played a late-afternoon set on the second day on the festival to a moderately packed crowd. I was disappointed by the fact that Diddy, who was seen throughout the festival during the weekend, didn't make an appearance (as numerous publicists had tipped me off about) but nonetheless was very pleased with Guy's classic blend of slow-building deep house melodies and classic European techno levels of cigarette consumption.

Hot Since 82 has been one of the most talked about artists of the last year but put down a set that was frankly filled with boring, monotonous tech house. Motion for his new name to be Hot Since 2013.

Nicolas Jaar. This dude is a simply a genius. He is totally unafriad to take chances, to break the mold and drop a track that catches you off guard. After opening his set with a collection of driving techy beats he flipped the switch and dropped Rhye's charmer "Open," a moment that had the crowd swaying together in unison and your humble author holding back tears of joy. This moment also served to introduce me to Rhye, who I now fucking love and can't stop listening to. Then Nico played another extremely mind-bending set with his collaborative act Darkside (with guitarist Dave Harrington) on Saturday. Occupying the festival's Gobi tent, Nico and Dave threw down spacey and psychedelic grooves that left half of the crowd confused as to when the drop was coming, while the other half held their heads in drug-induced states of meditation. I won't say which half of the spectrum I found myself on.

Darkside playing on Saturday in the Gobi Tent

CHROMEO SHOWED US WHY THEY STILL ARE THE CERTIFIED FUNK LORDZ

Photo credit: Jason MacDonald  

Dave1 and P-Thugg have found a niche for themselves that nobody can fuck with: radio-friendly funk jams that are impossible to resist, no matter how much you hate fun. On the heels of their anticipated forthcoming album White Women they played to a massive main stage crowd and threw down hit after hit, keeping thousands of fans locked into a state of endless booty shaking. P-Thugg serendaded the crowd via his talk box like some funkified robot, while Dave1 provided his bubbly vocal chops and cheery guitar shreds. I made a point not to get too carried away before my interview with the duo, which was to take place ten minutes after their massive set. Being an easily exciteable longtime fan, it wasn't easy. Also I think I saw Seth Rogen.

SKRILLEX OBVIOUSLY MELTED EVERYONES FACE + THE SAHARA TENT SCARED ME

Photo credit: Jason MacDonald  

The Sahara tent is the ideal setting for an EDM megastar like Skrillex. This massive structure, which could double as a hanger for a 747 jetliner, acts as the festival's main setting for full on brain-pummeling. From atop his slightly terrifiying spaceship stage, Sonny unleashed countless tracks from his debut album Recess, a handful of bass bombs from throughout his career, as well as a laundry list of surprises like the The Lion King theme song, which quickly segued into an animalistic moombahton remix that had the crowd of 10,000-plus united in a state of frantic hysteria.

The Sahara tent crowd are not in the search of an endless groove, or a slow and patient deep house build. Fuck no. These people here are here to RAGE. And rage they did—at the drop of a hat. It was inspiring to watch clever DJs get these massive crowd jumping to the heavens in unison, stripping off their shirts which displayed messages like I PARTY 24/7 or FUCK BITCHES EAT MOLLY. I'll admit, after more than 30 minutes getting blasted with brain scrambling beats while herded side by side like cattle with fellow attendees—I was on the verge of an anxiety attack and usually made a quick beeline to more gentle pastures.

I LEFT MY HEART AT THE DO LAB

Run by a party crew known for forward-thinking, carefree, and no-holds-barred club nights in LA, the Do Lab has created a home for "weird" at Coachella, a festival that is suprisingly lacking in long-haired freaky people. Tucked away in the corner of the festival, the Do Lab is half-music stage, half-art installation and is shielded by light-up tower installations—making it an oasis for glitch-infused, bass-heavy electronic beats. Day two of the festival featured Dirtybird artists like Justin Martin who put down his classic bouncy bass grooves while managing still to find time to scarf down a slice of pepperoni pizza on stage.

LA-based artist and Symbols label boss Kastle, played one of my favorite sets of the weekend Saturday, with his signature style of tweaked R&B, future bass drops, and a helping of swingin' garage rhythms. A highlight of his set was a 2-step medley of Outkast's "Ms. Jackson" and "So Fresh, So Clean" that I desperately need in my iTunes. Track ID, anyone? My highlight experience of the Do Lab was easily Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs' headlining set on day two of the festival amidst a massive dust storm. He transformed this sheltered oasis into a psychedelic breeding ground of tribal house beats and rapid tech house drops. Ketamine and acid seemed to be flowing like rainwater and the crowd had their hands to the heavens in a state of hypnotic worship. Sometimes you just have to ditch the trendsetters and get really fucking weird.

Some dude getting really fucking weird

DISCLOSURE CANNOT BE STOPPED!

Disclosure jamming during their Sunday night closing set. Photo credit: Jason MacDonald  

Disclosure is one of the biggest success stories in the recent history of music. In the span of a mere year these two young brothers from the UK have released a wordwide smashing album, created an unparalleled live set, and are currently riding a unicycle down a rope that seperates the mainstream and the underground—with their feet dangling on both sides. While I found myself in the crowd during their MASSIVE Sunday night set that closed down the outdoor stage I found myself asking the following question: Do these people even know what they're listening to?

How many of the 10,000-plus fans singing along to "Latch" and "White Noise" know that UK garage has been bumping across the pond for a decade? Probably very few. In the end, does it matter? Fuck no. Guy's smooth accent calmed my overactive mind, and I almost died when he yelled out to the crowd, "Coachella are you feeling lovely?" Ugh, those damn Brits.

I WANT LITTLE DRAGON TO PLAY AT MY WEDDING

Why show a shitty iPhone picture of their set when you can see this giant robotic astronaut with Yukimi Nagano's face inside it?

One of my favorite things about Coachella (and music festivals in general) is that they give you the chance to see many of the world's biggest acts in an open-air setting where you are allowed to chain-smoke spliffs of Sour D. Little Dragon is a band I've been dying to see for years yet the last time they went on tour their Brooklyn date sold out faster than it takes me to perform my morning poop. When I found out they would be playing a sunset set on Sunday of the festival I made sure I was there with time to spare and my expectations could not have been more greatly exceeded. This group offers one of the most complete and diverse live musical performances around. They have a knack for pairing icy electronic grooves and Yumi's glorious vocals—sometimes soulful, sometimes frantic—with the occasional thick swell of bass that flips the switch from lovely performance to banging dance party. When they played "Little Man" the crowd erupted, and I spotted The Martinez Brothers next to me with smiles fit for a kid at Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.

All in all, while most people at Coachella look like carbon copies of each other, there's something for everyone at this festie and it was the finest auditory experience of my young adult life. I entered the Polo Grounds as what I thought was a festival expert, but after three days in the Indio Desert I realized that every day's a school day and I had a lot to learn. Was my first Coachella perfect and without any periods of turmoil? Definitely not. But what kind of first-time experiences are?

David definitely did not keep it together for his interview with Chromeo. @DLGarber