Phantom Planet's California

We're buring one CD with just Phantom Planet's California on it. We will then put that song on repeat for hours on end to remind us of our destination during the drive.

Is it 2 a.m. on Thursday, April 26? While you're doing whatever it is you do, you can bet we'll be cruising through Oklahoma, windows down, voices up, tears streaming down all our cheeks singing this song.

Is it 8 a.m. on Wednesday, April 25? While you're sleeping or getting ready for the day, we'll be rolling out, probably also listening to Phantom Planet's California.

Sure we could burn a full CD and put this song on repeat, but no, that's not how we're doing it. This song was practically written for a bunch of friends cruising through an ill-advised trip to California. I also plan to eat oranges early and often.

Southern Illinois University Carbondale helps out

The University from which we flee a full week of class will help send us to Coachella.

When coming out of the weight room at Southern Illinois University Carbondale's Student Recreation Center Anthony Souffle noticed something. Something that would save us time, money and hassle. As a service to students, the Recreation Center rents tents, sleeping bags and camping pads for a week at a time. Wayne brings one tent for him and Tim to sleep in. Anthony and I will rent another tent from the school for a piddly $25 fee. We will all likely pay the $5 to rent sleeping bags and pads to go in said tents.

Meanwhile, we will be borrowing this equipment to cruise from the heart of Southern Illinios, two hours outside of St. Louis, to the west coast. Where about the same lenght of time away from San Diego we will camp with our school's supplies in the designated area for this year's Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. Oh yeah, and we're giving up four to five designated class days to do so. Everyone needs to think hard about how to make the system work for them. We did.

Pictured above is the Southern Illinois University Carbondale Student Recreation Center, which collects fees from us hard working students each and every semester. In addition to giving us a place to train and prepare physically for the rigors of Coachella, the establishment will also rent us tents, sleeping bags and pads for our trip. We pay for it, after all. Photo taken from the SIUC Rec Center Web site.

The atmosphere

We're from the midwest, where a sombrero on the wall and telemundo on the screen means a Mexican restaurant, where frozen shrimp and boat-themed exterior mean seafood and fern bars typically rule the evening dining scene. In other words, we're used to lame atmosphere.

But the surroundings at Coachella seem anything but lame. We've surfed through mounds of festival pictures, we've watched the DVD and we're ready for all this has to offer. The art show, while none of us really produce that sort of creative material, appeals. The surroundings -- mountains, palm trees, a pristine polo field in the dessert -- are nothing like the area we grew up in where a cornfield or a healthy dose of pines passes for nature.

Catching as many bands as possible sits high on our to do list, but we won't ignore the colorful lights at night or the Tesla Coil shooting electricity through out, making our 27 drive during the last semester of college for a few of us to catch a concert under the dessert sky even more surreal.

Sleeping at Coachella

Sleep is for the weak. You can sleep when you're dead. Etc., etc.

But seriously, rest will be needed to trudge around the festival all day in near 100-degree heat. With the show lasting until a midnight noise ordinance shuts it down, we probably won't get back to our tents until 1 a.m. or so. Assuming we get to sleep, in a wink, without any tossing and turning, that probably gives up about five hours until the dessert sun wakes us up with some not so subtle skin baking.

So what is that? Four hours of shut eye? Can that sustain our grueling endeavors during the day? Doubtful. That's where adrenaline and our trip to Tijuana comes in. In Tijuana, one can purchase much prescription medicine over the counter. That means we should return from Mexico with Xanax to knock us out at night and pain pills to keep heat headaches and soreness at bay during the day.

Also, Coachella stands to be a near non-stop buffet of stimulation, what with all the music, people and situations we stand to encounter. Adrenaline kicks in, our weariness fades and thing move on...until the eventually crash, which probably hits as we drive home through New Mexico, frantic to make our Tuesday classes and very much fed up with one another.

We've committed to this camping area thing. Sleeping masks and ear plugs will also help us sleep.

Coachella v. Woodstock I

Never in 1999 did I think many outraged people criticizing the revitalized Woodstock festival for bowing to corporate sponsors and exploiting fans would somehow benefit me in 2007. I was wrong.

Concert-goers at Woodstock '99 complained about high priced bottled water - among many other deficiences - according to many accounts. Woodstock allegedly sold water for around $6, and that was in '99 when one could still buy a tank of gas for under a dollar. At the same time, the first Coachella, which was headlined by Rage, came on the scene that year in August, I read on the message board.

If message board mythos is correct (isn't it always?), Coachella organizers bumbled when they scheduled their event for August in the California dessert, where most things tend to die from excessive heat at that time of the year. But they hit a home run by excluding corporate sponsorship and incidentally selling thirsty music fans water for a $2 a bottle, which is slightly less obscene.

I love to bust this little tid bit out when people warn me about the "crazy high" prices of bottle water at festivals. Given the $2 cost, looks like I'll drop a mere $20-$30 a day on water to stay hydrated. That's better than the alternative, which is dying a terrible dry death with no chapstick and blistered lips. If that does come to pass, please mom, send me off with a closed casket funeral. I don't want to be remembered as the dude with dry lips.

Zack de la Rocha's hair

Zack de la Rocha, Rage Against the Machine's dreadlocked front man, sports a new hairstyle these days.

When Rage split in 2000, Zack was 30 years old, maybe pushing it a little but still entirely able to wear dreads and be taken seriously. The vocalist has taken the last years off from regular recording and returned with an afro of sorts and a little bit of extra weight. What does this mean for our enjoyment of the show? Absolutely nothing.

We're lucky to see this show period. Rage broke up in 2000, when all four of us were still in high school, some of us just freshmen. Though this year might be a bad indicator, bands that brake up due to disagreements don't often reunite. And they certainly don't owe it to the fans.

Zack could come on stage with a well-coifed comb over and a cardigan sweater for all I care. When he grabs the mic and tells the crowd to please settle down a bit because Rage isn't used to all this yelling is when I start to get mad. Rage Against the Machine produced one of the best rap/rock album of all time in a genre that produced little to no time-tested music. Oh yeah, and they did it in 1993, a good five years before the rest of the industry even attempted to emmulate their sound. While one can argue endlessly about the conflict of advocating massive left-wing change and revolution while selling merchandise, concert-tickets and fattening your pocket with a major label contract, nothing changes the political awareness the band has heightened.

For example, the band released a concert DVD from a show they did in Mexico City. Infused between songs are snippets of information regarding explotation of indigineous peoples in Mexico. The DVD itself didn't inspire me to revolt against my government, that would be insane. But it did push me to learn more about the issue, and awareness is the first step to change.

So Zack can come out without his dreads, he can put on a suit coat and do a dedication for Patti Smith at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Nothing changes the music this great band has produced, the message they infused with it and their gracious decision to give us die-hards another chance to see them. That being said, on a sophomoric level I miss the dreads as seen in the bottom shot from seven years ago contrasted with modern day above it.

Navigating Coachella

Music festivals, large and small, demand much physical exertion by their very natures.

When I band comes on, few concert-goers remain still. Why would one? It's a weird cat that goes to a show to stand and listen to music. So during a performance there's near constant movement.

With so many bands playing, it goes without saying that we'll be forced to hustle around the grounds to see as many of our favorites as we can. That's some intense exertion, especially given the toll of the dessert sun. What we will likely do is take the set times and a map of the grounds and plot our most efficent routes the night before.

While carefully downing bottled water at a pace designed to keep us hydrated yet save money and time in the portable toliets, we will also jump at chances to sit in the shade or enjoy acts in the tent.

Here's a map from last year's show, which is pretty much unchanged from those of the past. That means this is what the show layout will likely be this year.

Graphic taken from the Coachella message board.

LCD Soundsytem and notes on other electronic music

LCD Soundsystem has released one of the best albums of this year, simply put.

There first self-titled album was good, particuliarly the catchy single "Daft Punk is playing at my house," but this latest release, The Sound of Silver, plays well in any situation.

Driving, making dinner, studying, this album backdrops it all perfectly. It even earned an Entertainment Weekly pick of the week accolade, an honor not given lightly by the publication that is consistently tough on musicians.

Of course all this is relevant because LCD Soundsystem is playing Coachella. They are just one of many bands with electronic-styled music to rock the festival. Others include !!!, Hot Chip, the Rapture, Junior Boys, Tiesto and DJ Shadow. According to the Coachella movie DVD and many on the message board, these acts typically play inside one of the tents.

But until the long-awaited set list hits during the week of the show, we have no way of knowing. All we can do is hone our dance moves and hope we get to see one of all of these acts instead of losing many to conflicting performance times.

An ode to Vince

Without Vince Cicero, a friend of mine who moved to Buffalo, N.Y. after high school, this trip would not be happening.

Vince was one of my only friends who constantly talked about Rage reuniting as much as I did. One night we were blizzarded into a Best Western motel room next to the Buffalo air port. For some reason I had packed a boom box into my luggage when I flew from Chicago to New York to interview for an internship at the Buffalo News, which later turned me down after I flew there on my own dime in the middle of the horrid New York winter.

We rocked out to the self titled album and talked about the implications a reunion show would bring -- we'd both have to stop everything we're doing and go. So when Rage announced the Coachella reunion, I called Vince. The logistics were challenging. A 28 hour drive, a $300 three day ticket price and no where to stay means many problems.

Vince put it all in perspective: "I'll pay $400 to see Rage, I don't give a f*ck."

The saying applies to more than just the money. It speaks to the nature of this trip. What is really worth more, money or an unforgettable experience? What should one value most, the material or experiences that cannot be bought and sold?

The decision was made. Unfortunately, Vince had just signed the lease for an apartment in Buffalo, and crossing the country would be impossible. I wish he'd be there for the reunion, but because Rage has added an east coast date on the Rock the Bells Tour he still may catch them. Either way, without Vince, this trip doesn't happen. Thanks man.

Tijuana Tim

Wayne leads the field of unexpected and embarrassing photography. Here's his latest opus. Expect many such pictures taken during our drive and subsequent three days of rocking. Without further adue, here's Wayne's extensive photo caption.

When gearing up for the trip, it's difficult to imagine what obstacles we will have to overcome on the road to Coachella. We may break down on a stretch of highway, we could possibly be taken captive by hippies or if worse comes to worst, we'll have to stop a million times for restroom breaks. It won't be easy in the slightest, and much training has gone into preparing for such a journey (expect a montage video sometime soon.)

If one thing is for certain, though, it's that I never want to see Tim "The Tool Man" Dusza make the face witnessed in this photograph. To place this picture in the proper context, Tim arrived after a long night of battling the bread minions of Panera Bread Company. Holding a bag of highly coveted chocolate chip cookies, Tim could no longer resist the urge and temptation to take one for himself. I, being the pesky guy with the expensive camera that I take from my roommate like every single day because he's never awake to use it, snapped this precious photo of what appears to be Tim frightened out of his mind at how amazingly delicious such chocolate chip cookies are. As I looked at the picture further, I discovered a horrifying undercurrent that just now has become a dark cloud looming over the horizon.

In our long trek across the country, should this face make another appearance, it would only exist with Tim saying something along the lines of "how did we end up in Canada?" or "did I just run over a homeless man?" In either case, this face could only bring trouble... or cookies.

There you have it. We mean business about said montage vidoe. Expect it very soon.

Day trip to Tijuana

We will not miss our chance to cross the border while on this trip. The idea to visit Tijuana was born shortly after the one to attend Coachella.

We plugged Indio, Calif., in to mapquest, learned it was but an hour from the border and decided if we made the trip to Coachella we would stop in Tijuana. We don't quite know what to expect from this border city just south of San Diego. Yes, it can be very dangerous. No, people don't automatically rob you for being American. Yes, many illegal activities bombard tourists from prostitution to cheap prescription meds to cock fights if you know where to look.

But it doesn't have to be as seedy as all that. I hope to speak some Spanish, meet some locals and jump into the Ocean with all my clothes on if weather allows. Street tacos in my belly, the hot Mexican sun in my skin, I will return stateside for some well-deserved sleep after this Thursday afternoon excursion. The next morning begins Coachella and the three day celebration of my college days that end less than two weeks later.

On the road part five: The Final Countdown

It won't be long now men, just bite down careful to avoid your tounges, stop popping Xanax and feast your eyes on victory, I will say when we roll the 300 miles or so from Flagstaff to Indio.

It'll be about hour 25 on our trip when we cruise through Flagstaff, with nothing but arrival in our heads. This part of the trip should go down easy from about 1 p.m. to 5 or 6 p.m., minus the time change, that puts our arrival right around 4 p.m. Tuesday.

We set the tent up, grab a quick map and haul ass to Tijuana. Who knows though, as was well-documented in the family friendly romp that was National Lampoon's Vacation, many things can and do go wrong in most nation-spanning journeys. We could arrive far later than expected. Either way, we're getting there.

Best Marley since Bob

Of all the music I've waded through in preparation for Coachella's massive line up, Stephen Marley has wowed me more than anyother.

I'm not alone here either. Rolling Stone and Entertainment Weekly have both praised him as the most talented of reggae legend Bob Marley's more than 10 legitamate prodgy, there are allegedly more than 20 total. But as I enjoy Stephen Marley's debut album Mind Control, sometimes it's easy to hear Bob in his son's music. Even if this trip goes wrong in many ways, at the least I've found some enjoyable music I was previously unfamiliar with.

Other new musicians I was unaware of before the show but have since been impressed with include: Rodrigo y Gabriela, Manu Chao, LCD Soundsytem (a small part of the reason I must learn to dance, the larger part...chicks dude), Peter Bjorn and John and Tapes N' Tapes.

If this show is like any festival I've been too, my list of new artists I'm a fan of will grow massivly in the aftermath. Something to look forward too.

Rage starts rehearsing

Rage Against the Machine has started rehearsals in preparation for its first show in seven years after the band split, according to many news reports.

Before Rage shattered, with Zack de la Rocha working on a never-released solo album and the rest of the band teaming with Chris Cornell to form the underachieving Audioslave, the band cut "The Battle of Los Angeles."

I rollerbladed to Best Buy when I was in the 10th grade, bought this album with money from my first job as a 15-year-old cart pusher/grocery bagger at Jewel/Osco Grocery. I listened to this album, appreciated it for the rock and the sound, which even amid many mediocre rap/rock clones (Limp Bizkit, Papa Roach, Kid Rock etc.) stood out as excellent and unique. The album went into a box before I graduated high school.

When I woke up and became politically aware, the album came back out. Research was done on Rage, there message was internalized. Now as a grown man ready to graduate college and enter the world of work, I have sacrificed more than $500, a week of my time and much energy to see them reunite. This is my story, but it may as well belong to any among this generation.

As Tom Morello has said in many interviews, during the seven years Rage left us, the world has developed some serious problems. The Middle East Conflict has become even messier with scores of American young dying without cause. The government employs illegal phone taps and detains terrorism suspects for years at a time without fair trial. Latin America is waking, with leftist politicians coming to power and indiginous peoples becoming involved.

Now Rage is back. The latest issue of Rolling Stone praises the band's last performance at Coachella. In 1999, Rage took the stage, sounding weak at first, according to Rolling Stone, due to Zack de la Rocha's laryngitis. After a few songs into the set, Zack screamed "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!" with the raucous crowd gathered before him.

By the end, Rage rocked the entire crowd with "Sleep Now in the Fire," a song little known by those gathered. Rollling Stone praised it as a classic performance. One can only speculate at the power the reunion show will wield. With 28 days on the official countdown and 26 days on our personal tally, one must ask how long? Not long, because what you reap is what you sow.

Concert-going attire is very important

The key to an undertaking such as this is preparation, from extensive maps right down to what we wear to the show each day.

The Coachella festival features an ecclectic mix of indie bands, electronic music and hip hop. As such, the style in the crowd will be too diverse to classify. We need to stake out our place amongst those in attendence by downing our own distinctive fashions.

Wayne seems dressed for a concert most days anyway, so no problem for him.

Tim has volunteered to sport Acapolco shirts and khaki shorts a la Hunter S. Thompson. This get up lets people know one has come to party and they will not be stopped.

Anthony's main concern centers around how to take quality photographs within the festival, seeing as press credentials are said to be very difficult for photojournalists to come by and the rules disallow any camera with a detachable lens. He said he'll figure something out. Updates to come.

Zack Q will of course be clad in a white wife beater, black cargo pants with one leg rolled up, and a red bandana tied around his forehead with hair hanging over the top. This outfit is all business-minded and well suited for surviving Coachella.

Photo caption: police at a past Coachella arrest a streaker. We plan to wear clothes, but who knows what stands to go down during Rage's set. Photo taken from the Coachella message board.

On the road part four: The meat

This part stands to be a test of our endurance, cunning, mental stability and tolerance for foul smells.

Once we get into Texas we have about 900 miles of driving to do going west on I-44. We'll brake this down into increments of about 300 miles a piece. Here's an imagined narrative.

Increment one, happening from about 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. Assuming Oklahoma has not destroyed any and all traces of moral in the car. We may be playing Scattergories or opening up about the childhood experiences that made us who we are today. More likely, we'll be singing along to raucous renditions classic rock that fits the open road so well. Hate will be minimum, everyone should be awake. The sun set will charge us as we watch it from amongst the desert.

Increment two, this will hurt. Someone will have to drive from 2 a.m. to 7 a.m., with one passanger awake to make sure we don't die in a fiery blaze of sleep. One driver seems less than fair her. We will in all likelihood break this down into two hour graveyard driving shifts. Just finish it, its worth it considering the things that await upon completion. Also, whoever sticks it out to the end will be rewarded with a beautiful sunrise in the New Mexico morning.

Increment three, we will desperately need a second wind here. A will to continue, something to make us fight as we drive the last 300 miles of this helacious leg from about 7 a.m. to 1 p.m. I recomend heavy doses of Rage Against the Machine to fire up the adreneline, followed by some Tenacious D to keep the mind sharp and on point. Mellow music stay back here. We need power to get us to Flagstaff.

Once we make it that far, the rest will seem like a breeze. Adreneline will kick in, Tijuana will be but a few hours away and we'll be far too excited to feel tired, bored or dead-to-the-world. Knock this down and we have completed the first step.

Photo: Check the arrow, that's our goal, but that long red line must be driven first.

Polo follows Zack

I lived across the street from a polo club in a lower to middle income Chicago suburb until I was about 12 years old. Around that time, the club closed and the towns people ripped it apart.

The club, located on Bloomingdale Road between North Avenue and Army Trail Road, was owned and operated by Harold Reskin, a wealthy man who helped build most of what is now Glendale Heights. When he got older, interest in the club fell off. Seeing as none of the people in the town could afford to play or care about polo, we did what you would expect. We walked through the broken up gates and stole anything of value left in the place. Looking back, just having a polo club across the street from my house for so long seems surreal.

Polo ranks among the oddest and most elitist in terms of sports. Yet I remember sneaking in through a hole in a fence to go watch it every once in a while. Also the wall that cut off the club and ran along Bloomingdale Road was lined by pillars with concrete horse heads on top. Many called this "Godfather Row" on account of the brutal scene in the Francis Ford Coppola classic.

Now years later, I will travel to a festival held mostly on of all things a polo field. I can't escape this sport.

Photo: Coachella takes place mostly on the Empire Polo Field in southern California. Photo taken from the Coachella Web site.

Transportation

We must overcome two major barriers to make this show. We've already dispatched with the lofty price, jostling our finances to buy our about $350 three day passes and camping area access.

Now we must cover the 1800 miles, or 27 hours, between Carbondale and the Coachella Valley. Thankfully, we have a massive slice of American automotive to ferry us through. Tim drives a maroon 1990 Buick LeSabre with no more than 60,000 miles on it. It was first owned by his grandmother, who may have driven it on Sundays but not regularly. It has everything one would expect. Leather interior, rust, overly-spacious back seat and trunk. This mighty vessel fits our trip as well as any vehicle could.

Like our journey, this car causes the average person to scoff. What're you crazy? That won't work. Yeah, good luck.

Also like our trip, this car stinks of character. How many people in this day and age drive such a piece? Who would think it's a good idea?

But the car offers much. It's equipped with cruise control and enough room to make sleep comfortable. It's non-assuming. It blends in with the desert perfectly. And like a cross country road trip to a music festival, this car seems more at home in a past-era. We might be safer and more comfortable in a more modern transport, but there would be no glory in completing such a trip in a Chevy Lumina or Volkswagen Pasat. No, we bust the conventions of our roles in society with a Buick. We defy logic in an American made monster from a time when such cars dominated the road, before Toyota exploded into the world's largest manufacturer. This car plays as an important a role in this journey as any of us.

Photo: Tim enjoys a piece of fruit next to the 1990 Buick LeSabre that will send us to Coachella. It may have a flat now, but that problem will be remedied soon enough. Credit Zack Quaintance.

On the road part three: Putting on our O face

We have decided to leave Carbondale at 8 a.m. Wednesday rather than noon. This will hasten our trip, tire us out so sleep in the car is easier and put us in the desert for sun set rather than the bowels of Oklahoma.

Still, we must pass through Oklahoma to get to our scenic desert sun set. Part three of the trip is not fun. It will usher in our second driver of the day, seeing as we plan to switch shifts every six hours once we stop for gas. Six hours of driving should put us right around the Oklahoma-Missouri border.

Once we come into Oklahoma we'll still have 190 miles to drive on I-44 going west. After doing that for a while we exit onto I-40 still going west for another 40 miles or so. This takes us right out of Oklahoma and toward Amarillo.

Since we have shifted our departure time, our journey through Oklahoma should happen from 2 p.m. to about 8 p.m. But once we get into Texas we'll be very close to moving into a new timezone, which may save us an hour or to. It's important to remember, the faster we arrive, the more time we have for going to the beach and bumming around Mexico.

Photo: here you see our path through Oklahoma as estimated by myself using the paint program. Photo taken from preventblindnessok.com, it was the best OK map I found.

One man with a laptop

Girltalk is one guy with a laptop who plays songs and puts on one hell of a show.

Yes, it sounds like the lamest thing ever. No, it's not much different from Tim and I sitting around the living room, burning hours of free time and saying things like "dude, check out this song." But some how this one white guy manages to turn laptop full of tunes into lively live jamboree.

One viewing of a youtube.com video of this guy's performance at this month's South by Southwest Music Festival down in Austin, Texas may convince you as well. An unassuming white guy in a hoody, he comes on stage amid a barrage of cheers and camera flashes.

He right off tells the audience he appreciates the photographic interest, but he resents it as well, because this show is just as much about you guys as it is about him. He's not kidding either. By five minutes into the show, the guy is in the middle of the crowd, no shirt on, bumping with fans as they erupt crazy. He runs through the crowd, makes out with female fans and high fives anyone in the vicinity as terrible old dance songs blare behind him. I could spend a lifetime honing the craft of descriptive, entertainment-oriented, hype writing and still not do this show justice.

As always, I find someone on the Coachella message board has captured the situation best. Girltalk sits near the bottom of Coachella's Saturday lineup in small print. This guy on the board slung a statement at skeptics who prefer other small-type acts with guitars and an actual catalog of original music.

"Have fun watching the Frames or the Fratellis or some other bullsh*t," this guy wrote. "I'll be busy rocking my f*cking face off."

After watching this video and listening to a few samples from Girltalk, I plan to be right there with this guy. That's really an unexpected benefit of this Coachella trip, familiarizing myself with different music, artists and forms of entertainment. Tim and I spent an hour last night hitting the myspace page of every band on the Coachella poster.

We learned a few things. First of all, myspace has burrowed deep into the marketing side of the music business. With media everywhere writing about dismal album sales and a shift to the Web, myspace took that and ran. Every artist except one, had a myspace page with samples of music. From rappers, to punk bands to a bongo band from the Congo -- they were all on myspace. There's the future.

Photo caption: a large crowd watches a performance at a past Coachella. Photo taken from the Coachella Web site.