57 days and counting…
Okay, so my big goal with this whole Coachella Experience is to have some sort of Perfect Moment of the Spalding Gray variety. Of course, I’m not greedy. If it can’t be ‘perfect’ I’ll accept transformative. At the very least, I’ll settle for a sign. But this means I have some homework to do.
My boyfriend, Tubbs is making me a daily playlist on our Sonos system. This way I can get to know all one hundred twenty bands on the lineup. There are going to be five stages, with bands playing simultaneously all day. From what I’ve read, the most you can check out is eight to ten full sets a day. I’m going for the low-ball at eight, but I need to find the right eight bands. The plan is to listen to everything and take notes, judging the music on three criteria:
Does it make my heart pound or cause me anxiety? If it does, I scratch that band off my list.
Does it make me happy? I’m talking about a general feeling of joy similar to what I experience when I look at polka dots or multi-color stripes (Crate and Barrel has a line of striped table linens that brings me serious joy). If so I put it on the list for both of us to check out.
Is it sufficiently dreary? Tubbs was the first to name my ‘dreary’ side. This isn’t a depressive thing, rather it relates to my secret desire to be a character from a Wes Anderson movie and/or a long lost member of the Glass Family.
These bands also go on the list, but there is the possibility that I may attend solo, in the event that Tubbs wants to go hear one of the heart palpitation bands.
So, if I do my homework, and establish a basic frame of musical reference, I will be leaving the door open for musical transformation (you can’t have a moment, if you don’t know the songs). With any luck, after three days, I’ll get my perfect moment (of the Spalding Gray variety), where I commune with the godhead and my Coachella experience ends on a joyous note of hope.
Next Up: The lineup, and what it means to me.