MUSIC MONDAYS: PRINCE ORGASM

Oh my fucking... wow. If anyone has ever met me, you know I love me some Prince. I have two Prince posters, I spent many many high school and college years telling skeptical people that Prince ruled and eventually everyone wised the fuck up.

When Coachella was announced, the only day that jumped out was Saturday. Mainly because Portishead was headlining and I'm big into those guys. Then news came that Prince had been added. Prince. I'd seen him twice before in Philly but faaaaar away. In theory, I could now get super close. I started thinking of plans. I'd get to the main stage at 1 and just wait. I even looked up some portable peeing contraptions. Everything from uncomfortable (Depends) to the painful (a catheter inserted in the pee hole). Eventually, I decided that if I had a big enough bottle, I could sneak it down my pants and pee... When the set times were released and I saw the final three mainstage acts were Kraftwerk, Porishead and Prince, my decision was set.

Turned out a few days before Jen scored me some tickets to Portishead's LA rehearsal, which was un-un-unreal. So seeing them again in a huge setting was just an added bonus.

We walked into the festival at around 1:30. First I went to the mini-Virgin Megastore or maybe Virgin Ministore would be easier for those of you who can't pick up on the subtleties of the oxymoron. Sure enough, they had the new Portishead a few days early. Three days early to be exact. And the album is called Third. SCARY!

Jen and everyone else left me at the store. They know how I get in record stores. Silence, silence. It's like a fucking library for me. If you disturb me, you need to buy me an album. After purchasing the album I checked out a few seconds of Kavinsky. Pretty cool Ed Banger DJ who claims he was killed in a motorcycle accident in 1986 or something like that. I left there for Man Man. I heard they put on a good show and were from Philly, so I had to represent. And shit they didn't disappoint. It was like Tom Waits' crack babies. They were lots of fun. They played tons of instruments and jumped around a bunch. I told Jen how nuts they were. Jen and James came to check them out and promptly declared them the worst band to ever play Coachella.

At this point it was probably 3:30 or so. I decided the time had come to go to the mainstage. I arrived in the middle of Minus the Bear and got very good position when people left. I sat down and whipped out a book. Cold War Kids came on and I remained seated. Sorry fans, I can't stand for twelve hours like I did for Neil at Willie Nelson's 4th of July Picnic. That was fun and all but my heart rate got really high at one point and scared me. If I can sit, I will sit. So I sat. The Cold War Kids weren't as bad as I expected. Some of the songs were pretty good actually. In the middle of the set Jen said I should get some food and save it for later. I didn't want to lose position, but I figured it was early enough that I could go. Good idea that I did. I got right back to my place, maybe even a bit closer and now had nourishment. I picked up a few more waters for the road and I was set.

Ten minutes later Cafe Tecuba started. I thought they were called Cafe Tacvba but folks informed me that was a typo on the poster. They seemed cool enough. The show itself was an interesting experience. The crowd was almost 100% Latin. If you asked me the day before if I thought I'd feel uncomfortable in a situation like this, I'd say of course not. It's like people wondering if I'm ever uncomfortable around large groups of Black people. I've spent most of my life around large groups of Black people, so I rarely feel "out of place" or whatever in those situations... But I haven't spent most of my life around Mexican people. Sure enough, I did feel very WHITE. Folks were really into it and that was awesome, but as people formed a giant circle and started dancing, I felt so so so HONKY. So positively CRACKER! It didn't matter that as a Jew, I'm so familiar with dancing in circles. Didn't matter at all. But I enjoyed myself regardless. It was nice to feel out of place actually. A welcome change.

After Tacuba ended, I got much closer. By this point I was about 10 or so people back. Death Cab came on and bored me. Ben Gibbard made "jokes" about Prince arriving in a purple helicopter. It seemed very clear that he had an insane jealousy of Prince. As if Prince's presence reminded him that indie divinity is really not that huge on an a major scale. After all, as Prince says himself, he's an "international lover." Pretty intimidating stuff. After Death Cab, I got a wee bit closer yet. At that point it became clear that there would be no more huge openings after bands ended. Where I stood was pretty much my final place for Prince. I was completely okay with that. I could see everything. Who cares if I wasn't leaning on the front barrier. I was five people behind that. If this had been Madison Square Garden, that's like a 2000 buck ticket still.

While I waited for Kraftwerk (a band I finally actually wanted to see) I took note of the people around me. On one side were about eight teenagers. They didn't really want to see Prince, but they knew it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Most of them hadn't even heard any Prince songs. Great. I can't believe they were taking spots from real fans out there, but I couldn't complain. If they were willing to stand for six more hours, they deserved it... On the left side you had the other extreme. SUPERFANS. They immediately let out the Prince "love call" to see if any other fans were around. I don't know the fucking love call. I'm a forgetful person. I know the albums, the songs, etc., but I'm bad with little things. Just on the car ride over I called "Jack You Off" "Jack Me Off." If the fact that I'm a really spacey dude who is still suffering from years of weed clouds makes me less of a Prince fan, then shit, I hope you find a Prince symbol shaped dildo to please you for the rest of your life, you can have that.

Kraftwerk came on and had a great light/projection type show, the pinnacle of which was this moment where light blinded the audience for two minutes. When they finally dimmed, the four guys in Kraftwerk had been replaced by robot versions of themselevs performing the song "Robots." After they left, Portishead set a great mood. Not as special as the other night when I saw them, but for people who hadn't scored the hookup, I'm sure this ruled just as much. Portishead went off around 10:20... The time approached!! (more on the time approaching later)

I managed to squeeze myself another few people forward and move over so I was dead center. I'd say there were maybe three-five people that had a better view in the whole place. As the various roadies came on, the superfans exhibited just how lame they were by talking about all the roadies by name, culminating in a short biographical summary of Prince's long blonde haired guitar technician. Around this time, three drunken/tripping/rolling/who the hell knows fuckamos started shouting such pithy things as "show your tits," "lick my knob" and "penis penis penis." I closed my eyes, went into a zen place and ignored all else for the next forty-five minutes until the sound folks determined the space was ready and the show could begin.

And begin it did... With Morris Day! (ha get that Time reference now?). He did the Bird and Jungle Love. Prince was there playing some rhythm guitar in the background. I could hear the groans from the newbies. Why wasn't Prince doing more!? What's wrong with him? For any real Prince fan, you know this is part of the show. Sheila E came on next and percussed the desert for Prince's true unveiling, which came in the form of a blistering 1999. I'm sure germs were running into my mouth left and right since by this point my jaw was firmly dropped to the filthy ground. Prince ran through a bunch of wonderful takes on old hits, new hits, shockingly great covers (CREEP!!! ahhhhhhhhhh... i knew it from the opening bars... wow). No he didn't play "Ballad of Dorothy Parker" or "If I Was Your Girlfriend" but who cares, his guitar was on fire and I didn't have to watch him on a screen. Speaking of the jumbo screen, I got a text message from Jen and others that they could see me several times dancing and looking absurd on the jumbo screen.... that's just how good my placement was.

And you know what else is great? I never had to pee in the bottle. I did test the whole system to make sure it could work without detection. And with the assistance of a jacket and darkness, it worked great... I did have a nightmare that it would slip out of the bottle and I'd end up peeing on some girl's leg, so I decided to just hold it.

All and all, for Alex Pudlin, best Coachella ever. I have no pictures for you since Jen had the camera and my little phone couldn't capture much. I hope my words suffice.