Recovery almost complete

Believe it or not, I am catching up on my sleep post Coachella. Last night (as in Cinco de Mayo), I went to Martini Blues to catch a fine night of music. In addition to strong sets by Corday and Vesper, I was utterly blown away by Bayadera. I had seen the wonderful quintet at the Orange County Music Awards last month, but that was only for a song. A complete set gave them time to build momentum, explore the various reaches of their territory and take the crowd to a make believe world somewhere between Latin America, the Middle East and a Grateful Dead concert.
Magical stuff.

All night long at Martini Blues, friends and musicians would come up and chat. Many asked me for details about Coachella. The myth is more than that. It is real. A place where - mostly - the music comes first. And people - young and old - go to listen to music. To be challenged by music.

When I told people that I enjoyed a wide-ranging field including the likes of New Order, Nine Inch Nails and Jem, as well as Bright Eyes, Snow Patrol and Keane, they seemed in disbelief that someone can like so many different kinds of music with a passion. I do. Don't ask why. I think I got it from my parents. A little kid, I was raised listening to the Beatles, Bob Dylan, the 5th Dimension (hey, I was a toddler!) and Grofe's "Grand Canyon Suite" and even Nat King Cole and Johnny Mathis. You get the idea, my parents had a wide range of tastes too.

At Coachella, you are immersed in great music. Imagine being lost in the woods on the most beautiful day, with a gentle wind, the sound of birds and filtered sunlight raining down. But here, it was music and loads of it...

Ignore the Billboard charts, and the mindless entertainment shows that tell you how important the trillionth reunion from Cher or Aerosmith or whoever. Go to Coachella next year. Fall in love with music again. And again.