“Bro, I already saw Tyler at Flog Gnaw,” said a guy dressed in a flowery button-down to his friend, also in a flowery button-down. Tyler, the Creator, who put on his own festival at Dodger Stadium last fall, burst through a wall, kicking off his Coachella headlining set with the buzzing bass of “IGOR’S THEME.” But by the time I met up with my friend in the crowd, the pair had already left to see Dom Dolla, the DJ playing at the Sahara stage.
In a way, my friends-in-floral summarized what many, including myself, hypothesized during the lead up to this year’s fest. My doubts were never about whether Coachella would provide festival goers with exceptional music or a weekend of sweaty, sunny, sand-filled fun. My concerns were about whether this festival would matter as much as it had before.
Even with a lineup of EDM rarities, ‘90s nostalgia reunions, rising pop stars, and artists from around the globe, Coachella lost a little luster without a shocking, triumphant headliner. Rumors of low ticket sales called the festival’s status into question. Headliners don’t shape the attendees’ day-to-day experience, but they do give Coachella its ubiquity and induce FOMO outside the desert. On a personal level, I, like the majority of the attendees, had a blast (Favorite sets: Militarie Gun, Chappell Roan, Tyler, the Creator, and Justice). But at the same time, it was the end of Coachella’s influence in the larger music culture.
