The Worst Things at Coachella This Year, Weekend Two
Ed. Note: Brought to you by our tired, dusty and very tolerant friends at LA Weekly and OC Weekly.
Photo by Timothy Norris
Native American Headdresses These have still not gone away. In fact, one particularly irritating woman (not pictured) wore a towering feather Mohawk weave, a sartorial statement that combined racism with rave gaudiness. On Friday, she pushed her way in front of us, obstructing our and everyone else's view of the show. Congratulations, lady, you're Coachella's worst person! ANDREA DOMANICK
Pharrell Performing the Daft Punk Song, But Not at Coachella On Friday Pharrell performed "Get Lucky," his much buzzed-about collaboration with Daft Punk, for the very first time. In Brooklyn! It's bad enough that he was in last weekend's promo video tease that pissed everyone off. But this is just insulting. ANDREA DOMANICK
The Nasty Shit on the Ground By the end of each night, the entire field (and especially the ground in each tent) was a dumpy trash pile of water bottles, broken sunglasses, dirty bandannas and glowsticks. Particularly degenerate items spotted in the field included an empty bag of coke and a tampon inserter. KATIE BAIN
Last Call We headed to the beer garden at 11:45 p.m. for one last frosty before Sigur Rós, only to be greeted by a security guard shaking his head at us. What is this, a baseball game? Beer garden, you were closed when we needed you most! TAYLOR HAMBY
Photo by Nate Jackson This Is a Brain Hemorrhage.
It's peach schnapps with Bailey's Irish cream spooned on top (curdling in the summer heat) with red grenadine dropped in the middle. Due to the different chemical compounds in the drink, the red grenadine forms a red streak in the middle of the cup that is supposed to look like a brain stem. Hmm. Maybe we'll just have a Sierra Nevada. NATE JACKSON
Dude Who Shaved His Chest a Week Ago Maybe he did so for Week 1. But now all of his tiny gross hairs were growing in. [Shiver.] BEN WESTHOFF
Bizarre Bro Ritual Walking through the main stage grass after Phoenix's headlining set Saturday night, we happened upon a pack of bros engaging in a strange ritual: They were drunkenly scooping up the crushed water bottles and beer cans littering the ground and hurling them at each other, knocking one another to the ground only to rise and do it again in a fit of giggles.
They went on like this for about ten minutes. Riveting. ANDREA DOMANICK
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