While Friday’s and Saturday’s schedules were jammed, I took it much easier on Sunday. I hung back a bit, and rather than race to the Polo Grounds I explored a nearby Nature Preserve (I know, weird, right? More on that at a later date) and sauntered in at about 4:30. I missed Stars, whom I really wanted to see, because I realized, just as I was approaching the gate, that I couldn’t remember locking my car, a mistake which, as any Coachellite knows, can cost you forty five minutes.
Anyway, once inside I opted out of the usual stage hopping routine. Instead, I parked myself at the beer garden while Gogol Bordello worked their high-energy magic, then stocked up on water and made my way to the front of the Coachella Stage. I claimed a small, four foot square plot of land and settled in. Sean Penn came out and drummed up support for Obama then My Morning Jacket hit the stage, belting out a terrific set. It’s nice to see them in such a prime slot; two years ago they played in the heat of the Outdoor Stage. Jim James and Company are moving up, it seems.
Finally, Roger Waters took the stage for what had to be one of the prime concert experiences of my life. I posted something about it over at Metblogs. Go look.