The first weekend of the returning California mega-festival brought with it a host of big names, albeit a lack of heritage acts, and a crowd of fans eager for fun
If you were looking for a scene that neatly sums up Coachella, California’s festival double-weekender, it is this: every day in the late afternoon, under the giant ferris wheel, festivalgoers appear to move as if performing a choreographed routine, tilting their faces and tensing their butt-cheeks into their smartphones in slo-motion. At first it looks as if you might be in a flashmob, but suddenly the penny drops: ah, this is golden hour, and Coachella is sometimes as much about finding the perfect selfie light as it is musical acts.
It’s an image that’s become synonymous with the enormous two-weekend event – where fashion is more feted than the program itself – but it’s also, in some ways, a misleading one. Peel back the layer-cake of posers, ignore the giant VIP section that segregates the event between the plebeians and what one passerby calls “Los Angeles privilege”, ie those who can afford a special wristband for the nice views, loos and bars – and squint beyond the big-hitters. Underneath, the event is an endless trove of exceptional global artists and future megastars, from Japan’s Harajuku queen Kyary Pamyu Pamyu and Belgian triple-threat Stromae to Jamaica’s Koffee, Australian rapper Sampa The Great and Palestinian techno DJ Sama Abdulhadi.
