The way we all treat it, you’d expect Coachella to be a magical, practically cosmic experience filled with life-changing music sets, incredible parties and light to moderate use of the best psychedelic drugs money can buy.
Since its inception 18 years ago, though, we’ve seen that this is clearly not the case. Well, except for the drug use, but you can pretty much find all that at your local 7/11 by the freeway.
Let’s just come out and admit it: Coachella is fucking trash. If your idea of a fire music fest is gaggles of moderately Instagram famous teens dabbling in light cultural appropriation while swathed in Urban Outfitters’ tackiest looks on a patch of musty dirt, I welcome you to your opinion. But if you’ve had enough of this blatant conspiracy, then it’s time to rise up.
Full disclosure: I have not actually been to Coachella, but I’ve seen enough of its trash happenings online to know that it is, in fact, filth. Plus, this is America. I’m entitled to an opinion about literally everything, even if I don’t know anything about it. #MAGA
It’s not really about the music
Have you ever seen a video of a Coachella set? They are… bleak. Even electronica artists — those who are genetically manufactured in Swedish laboratories to make us move the flesh prisons we call bodies — can’t make a Coachella crowd do anything more than wave their arms like those balloon things found at used car dealerships.
The headliners are always the most trash, too. After nearly two decades of giving us life, killing us and then resurrecting us again, Beyonce just became a headliner. That’s 20 years of wasted time. Not to mention the fact that she’s only the second woman to headline the fest and the first black woman ever.
Coachella music is always a mix of: Aggy white boy rock for people in their 30s (see: Red Hot Chili Peppers), a nondescript DJ who you think might be famous but idk (see: Tiesto), a marginally successful ‘indie’ band signed to a bigger company’s alternative label (see: Beach House), a geriatric nostalgia act (see: Guns N Roses) or a mainstream rapper white people feel comfortable with (see: Drake). Hard pass, thanks.
It’s filled with the worst people
Have you ever seen an Instagram of someone at ‘Chella? Ughhhhhhhh. It’s a competition to see who can pile the most bedazzled, fringe-laden street garbage onto their bodies while cherry picking aspects of foreign and marginalized cultures to spin into costume.
No one is seeing acts, and no one even looks like they’re having an especially good time. I get that FOMO is a very real thing (though it can usually be overpowered by the siren call of pizza + Netflix), but I’m begging you, trendy teens of California: cut the cord. Don’t do something if it sucks and gives you an inferiority complex. That’s why I stopped going to hot yoga and I couldn’t be happier.
The owner is a piece of shit
Philip Anschutz, fuck you. It’s not enough to have a last name that sounds like a Nazi death camp — you’ve gotta donate to both anti-gay and climate change denial groups, too? Why do you hate the LGBTQIA community so much? You know it’s only bicurious 16-year-olds who are going to your dumb fucking events, right? The only way to stop a bitch ass like this is to stop giving him money. Don’t go to Coachella or any of the other trash venues he owns. Stay home and give your money to gay-positive companies like Oreos. Eat a whole sleeve. Just do it.
It’s expensive as fuck
It’s $400 for general admission and $899 for VIP. And that’s just to get through the gate. I’m sorry, what? That doesn’t even cover the cost of transportation, a “cute” outfit so you don’t look like a dumbass next to people dressed in just a bandana and a feather-covered fannypack, plus food, booze, drugs, somewhere to sleep and water because you’re in the middle of the fucking desert. This burger costs like, $30, you fools:
Do you know what you could get for $400? 400 burgers from the Dollar Menu at McDonalds, for one. There is a loophole, though! If you’re looking to do Coachella on the cheap, you can always contact this guy who’s willing to give you a VIP pass if you just follow a few simple guidelines:
It just looks miserable
It’s literally in the desert, y’all. Let’s stop this artifice and call it what it is: the music fest of a raccoon corpse sprayed with glitter and left to rot in the sun. Fuck you, Coachella. You don’t own us anymore.
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