This is an edition of the newsletter Pulling Weeds With Chris Black, in which the columnist weighs in on hot topics in culture. Sign up here to get it in your inbox every Thursday.
If you are even marginally online, you are aware that the first weekend of Coachella just finished at the Empire Polo Club in Indio, California. I have been to Coachella once. We drove to Indio from Los Angeles and back on the same long day. We saw Spiritualized (my younger friend didn’t realize J. Spaceman sat down the whole time), Phoebe Bridgers at the height of her powers, and Harry Styles, a true headliner with hits and charisma. We got back to L.A. at 3 AM. I was glad I had gone, but I never need to go again. Luckily, Coachella is now livestreamed on YouTube, so this year I could watch it from my couch in New York City and not encounter sweaty teens on drugs looking for their campsite or a bathroom.
This year’s headliners Lady Gaga, Green Day, Post Malone, and Travis Scott don’t get me going. That being said, Lady Gaga is a true performer; even when it gets too theatrical for my tastes, it plays well on the big stage, and she has undeniable songs. Green Day is one of the most uncool bands ever to exist. Post Malone is beloved, has songs, and leans a little country, which plays well in 2025. Watching Travis Scott, even on YouTube, gives me brain damage. Charli XCX (who should’ve headlined, and was spotted at an afterparty wearing a beauty-pageant sash to that effect, causing Green Day fans to react like she’d burned an effigy of Tré Cool) brought out Lorde, Billie Eilish (this killed me), and Troye Sivan, for a performance that genuinely lit up social media. Before an excellent performance, Clairo was introduced by 83-year-old politician Bernie Sanders, which also got people talking. Benson Boone donned his sequins, did his little flips, and brought out Brian May from Queen, and no one cared. Missy Elliott and Jimmy Eat World were solid. Japanese Breakfast inexplicably covered the cartoon band, Gorillaz, Justin Bieber couldn’t keep his pants up, and most of the crowd wore heinous outfits.
Before the weekend, I saw a story saying that over half of the general admission tickets to Coachella were purchased using a payment plan, which just cemented my thinking that Coachella, which hasn’t been cool in a decade, is now merely a rite of passage for young people. 66% of people polled by Variety said they were there for the experience, not the music. If you grew up in the mid-aughts, Coachella was a glamorous weekend in the desert that produced countless iconic photos of celebrities in offensive outfits driving golf carts in various states of intoxication; it felt like something you needed to go to.
But in 2025, the number of festivals is overwhelming, and ticket prices are only getting higher. None of them get the media attention, celebrity attendance, and brand dollars like Coachella, but they offer pretty good line-ups. The most significant trend in festival culture is going genre, leaving the poptimism in the desert and super-serving a thinner demographic slice. Goldenvoice, the promotion company behind Coachella, now puts on festivals for geriatric millennials (Just Like Heaven), elder goths (Cruel World), and people who somehow don’t get enough Jellyroll in their day-to-day lives (Stagecoach.) I am not sure you will catch Timothée Chalamet in the crowd in a Hysteric Glamor hat and a backpack holding hands with Kylie Jenner and watching a reunited Rilo Kiley play the Rose Bowl, but you never know. The bottom line is that Coachella is for young people who want to dress like it’s Y2K, vape, and make TikToks. But if you are over 30 and need to experience a music festival, there are plenty of options—even if they don’t have Nobu omakase.