What was once a dreamlike, euphoric event has become a nightmare. I have no ill will toward the actual festival; in fact, I believe Coachella could and should be the apex of music appreciation and cultural celebration. Coachella culture is synonymous with the worst kind of festivalgoers.
Coachella is muddled in drunken fights, nightmarish restrooms, drug-addled youths and incessant social media updates that drive me crazy. I guess for some, the allure of having no personal space in a crowd of sweating, shoving bodies while rejecting yet another light show from a stranger on acid means having a good time, but I fail to find the fun. Last year, The Orwells performed at the exact same time as Joyce Manor, leaving fans of both groups in a desperate frenzy.
That is not the case across the pond at Coachella, where it feels like the spirit of festival-induced debauchery has gone adrift. Either that or it has been obscured by one too many Snapchat filters. There are several reasons for this.
I suspect it begins with Coachella's ticketing system, which fosters a culture of elitism that to me seems wildly out of touch with the utopian spirit of music festivals.
Ticket holders are segregated from the outset, with separate entrances, bars and food offerings. The perks for this swanky lot include a secluded area with its own gold-plated refreshments and, this is the part that really irks me, a large area at the front of the main stage that is closed off to fans. I somehow managed to sneak into said area to watch Lady Gaga. Instead, I longed to be in the adjacent mosh pit with fans singing along to "Poker Face" at the top of their lungs while squished together like sardines.
Why attend such a corporate blowout event when I could go to smaller budget festivals and support the arts?
When Trump was first elected or gay marriage was made legal or yet another data backed video on the pressing nature of global warming came out, I questioned both my morals and the morals of those who disagreed with me. I despised Trump, celebrated gay rights, and frowned at the scenes of dying animals and a planet seemingly on the brink of collapse— how was I to treat those who assumed the opposite stance? Was it my place to treat those who support Trump, speak down on gay rights and write off the polar bears as propaganda as an enemy or as plain foolish?
Certainly, in college papers, I bashed AEG founder Philip Anschutz for his right-wing lunacy and took a two year hiatus from the festival in protest of his denial of any progressive cause which contrasts his oil obsessed, big pharma agenda. For the longest time, I hated Coachella. The key factor in doing so is to stay aware of the implications that come with supporting Coachella.
And we need to keep the conversation alive: Coachella is, in fact, problematic. Search for:. Photo Podcasts Video. Special Projects. Terps Watch.
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