Coachella ’07 recap: I’ll try to shut up about the flies

May 9, 007 post-Stagecoach Music Festival HOME, finally For two days, I’ve been trying to think of good things to say. So far I’m having trouble recapping the post-Coachella country-music adventures at Stagecoach in a concise and entertaining fashion. Even though WILLIE NELSON IS THE CLOSEST THING TO GOD WALKING THIS EARTH. And this one guy in the Riders in the Sky can do the hambone on his face. That was awesome.

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Coachella ’07: Braaaaaaaains

May 5, 007 Stagecoach Music Festival Cyclecide DJ / merch booth None of us saw much music at Coachella. We had no time — and if we did, when we got our nightly second winds, we traveled in a pack, mostly. Saturday night we went as zombies.

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Coachella ’07: Staph infections, flies, and other icky music fest aftermath

May 4, 007 (now it’s the) Stagecoach Music Festival Artists’ Parking Lot For whatever reason, the Johnny on the Spot guys did NOT clean the Portajohns in Artists’ Camping after Coachella was over, though they serviced everything else. On Tuesday, as we broke down the rides for our Wednesday gig in Riverside, Laird said he went to try to go pee and couldn’t even see the toilet seat for all the flies swarming on it. Ever smelled a bank of Portajohns that’s been baking for five days in 104-degree heat?

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Coachella ’07: uhhhhhUUUUUHHHHHH

we are delirious. sitting by a pool at a hotel with air conditioning. For a minute. Going back into the hotness to break down the rides and take them to Riverside to set them up for a show at UCR tomorrow. Then re-breaking them down and re-taking them back to the polo fields in Indio to re-set them up for Stagecoach. Which judging by all the purple wristbands on the 60-year-old vendors and whatnot outside at the hotel pool right now …. it’s going to be Bizarro Coachella. OMG swimming is about to happen.

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Coachella ’07: Clown town

April 28, 007 Coachella Valley Music Festival ITEM! Ratgirl’s grandpa used to eat meat gravy on his chocolate cake. “It all goes to the same place anyway,” she said he’d say. The gates have opened and the rubes have flooded in. Seventy thousand people rocked out here yesterday. Seventy thousand surprisingly well-behaved and not-totally-f’ed-up-on-drugs people. But maybe we don’t see the ugliest bits. They camp far, far away from us, in reportedly barbaric conditions. $5 bottle of water, anyone?

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Coachella ’07: Again with the buses

April 26, 007 Coachella Valley Music Festival Artists’ Parking Lot It’s 4pm. It’s hot. Our mechanic, Scruffy, showed up today. He drove Jamie Viada’s carousel down in a truck whose tire wrapped around the axle in a blowout last night. The carousel is part of Kinetic Steam Works, or KSW, the group that built the steam engine. The steam engine runs the carousel. It also runs the Dingus. The Dingus is an old widowmaker — an electric machine that would punch holes in metal, shear metal, bend metal. According to Scruffy, now it shreds fish, stuffed animals, and bottles of ketchup (catsup?) and mustard. That’s all I know about KSW for now. I’m sure I’ll meet them later tonight.

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Coachella ’07: Rousting about, pre-show

April 25, 007 Coachella Valley Music Festival Artists’ Parking Lot Everyone’s in town at the big pre-festival shop. After a good few sunny hours spent unloading the rides and bikes onto Coachella’s midway, we at Cyclecide — half of whom hadn’t slept or eaten — went into Indio for some Denny’s and ice cream and air conditioning. Now the crew’s out at Home Depot and the grocery store, avoiding the heat and stocking up on supplies for the coming weekend.

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Coachella ’07: Cyclecide, Johnny Amerika, Ryan Doyle, Dirtyfinger, Cauac Twins

April 25, 007 Coachella Valley Music Festival Artists’ Parking Lot Johnny Amerika and Tirzah are working artists living in Los Angeles. That happens a lot down there, apparently — unlike San Francisco, where a way higher percentage of clowns like us do it for the love alone. Something about SF being the world capital of creative leisure, and Hollywood liking special effects and people that can build weird things and work long hours on inconceivable projects. Johnny inherited the six-joystick control box for his latest contraption after creating it on the job for an … well, an animatronic animal for Mel Gibson’s Apocalypto.

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Coachella ’07: This is weird

April 24, 007 The Brewery, Downtown Los Angeles Nobody’s running around freaking out here at the Umlaut Haus. People have been awake since 9:30, not one soul got drunk last night, and the crew worked smoothly all evening and went to bed around midnight or 1. Aside from all the electrical wiring, Johnny Amerika’s project is finished. What I’m used to in the days before Coachella is: Swarms of clowns invading the drunkyard, acting hectic and drinking beers and cracking wise and scrambling around like geeked chickens

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Cyclecide Tour Postscript: Wackness Forever

Feb. 1, 2005 Re-posting in the new century. So that was my Cyclecide Fall Tour ’04 Diary. We went out across the country for almost 3 months this past autumn, knocked people sideways and off their bicycles at the Tour de Fat, got rear-ended by a semi, everything sucked, New Orleans was fun, nobody got arrested (for long), and nobody tore anyone else’s eyes out (almost). Now we’re back home, battered and bruised but not beaten. All in all, most of the Rodeo Klowns and Roustabouts agree that this was the worst tour we’ve ever done, as far as the fun-to-drag ratio, but still I’d rather do this than blah blah blah, and chaos provides yada yada, growth only from conflict, phoenix rising from the ashes whackety shmackety. Here you will find a complete chronicle of the chaos we clowns encountered on our circuitous circus route. Up until New Orleans, that is, whereupon my best friends flew in to meet me and everyone flew in to meet everyone and we all just stayed drunk and hung out with hobos and art-freaks and I wore my tutu for 6 days straight, and our nation “elected” the Shrub again and there were definitely ghosts in Christine’s friend’s attic in that apartment in the Quarter, and who’s got time for writing in the middle of all that. Now I’m safe and sound back at the farm, and working on stuff and things and how are YOU?

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