You know we love you, but we think it's time for us to break up.
In the last two months LAist probably had more stories (38), pictures, and videos about Coachella and its artists than even Pitchfork, Stereogum, or the LA Times. But unlike those fine publications, we also gave our readers tips on how to best enjoy themselves, where to eat on the drive in, how to get into secret shows, and we even made a mix tape.
However after Friday night, we sold our tickets for Saturday and Sunday's shows in the parking lot for a deep discount and vowed never to come back until either things change drastically (which we highly doubt from the hugely successful festival that has now expanded to two weekends to accommodate country fans during next weekend's Stagecoach), or until we become filthy rich enough to afford it.
Our first mistake was leaving the house at 2pm and thinking that the 132 mile journey from Hollywood to Indio wouldn't take more than four hours. Ha! It took 6 hours which meant we missed a bunch of acts including the reunited Jesus and Mary Chain.
Fair enough, our bad. And it was our bad that all the parking near the event was filled, so we hiked two miles from the parking lot in the dust field and curved around this place and that place and then alllll the way around the front parking lot to get searched. We had never been groped so, uh, completely, in all our concert-going-days.
Do people coming to see Bjork headline a show need such a once-over? We were later told by people who arrived as the gates opened that the lines to get in at that hour were heinously long, mostly due to the tight security.
But the last straw came when we were confronted with the $7 slice of pizza.