he 2004 Coachella Valley Music Festival was unique in comparison to any other festival Coachella or otherwise. Naturally, the most striking characteristic of Coachella is its back-drop, a desert oasis surrounded by mountains and towering palm trees. Staggering amounts of sunlight during the day and breathtaking sunsets in the evening are experienced from atop a soft cool floor of grass perfect for camping without a tent or dancing barefoot.

It was an entirely other characteristic that caught my attention next. I was asked to describe the Scene to BigYawn's readers. Refreshingly, there was very little 'Scene' to be observed. The crowd, the performers, the atmosphere at all the different areas of the festival grounds - they were all completely diverse.

The crowd of 50,000 was truly one of the most considerate masses I have ever encountered, save a few run-ins with certain arbitrarily motivated security officers. The desert temperature lent itself to the slow and deliberate pace of the crowd. The mix was diverse not only in age and origin, but also in musical taste and general style. True to its southern California location, fans dressed to the nines flocked to the VIP tent to enjoy shade, misting fans, couches, and cocktails. In the beer garden next door, fans dressed in everything from retro-punk to neo-hippy to prep school styles could be seen cooling themselves from within. (Each of the two outdoor stages could be seen and heard from within the beer garden, a frequently utilized convenience.)

This year's performers varied widely from each other and from the Coachella performers of the four preceding years. In preceding years, many of the bands, including the headliners, were locally-based and pure of indie-rock heart. In 2004 performers represented countries around the world and too many genres to count. At no time was the vast assortment of this year's performers more apparent than during the now-notorious acoustic Beck set, performed adjacent to the thumping bass lines of DJ Danny Howells. The ability to wander from set to set of more than ten bands per day ranging from classical to hip hop (many attendees wisely skipped over the Section Quartet, which performed daily overtures consisting of string arrangements of the other performers' music) was a rare and welcome opportunity.

Most of the headliners were at their signature best, particularly Saturday's main-stage performers. Sunday's performances were full of surprises for me. I arrived at Coachella relatively unfamiliar with Bright Eyes, Muse, The Sleepy Jackson, and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, but enjoyed all of their sets immensely. Contrarily, Sunday's headliners were a disappointment. The Flaming Lips were as theatrical as ever, but their stunts and political rants left time for no more than five songs (if you count Happy Birthday sung by the audience to Beck's unborn child), and the portion of The Cure's set I managed to catch was largely a disappointment.

The atmosphere created by the organizers, Goldenvoice, and their vendors was light hearted and heat-conscious. Huge insects decorated the common areas of the grounds, which not only served as meet-up landmarks, but also periodically emitted a cool mist on the fans below. Other displays included shade from the sun that doubled as an interesting shadow display for viewers on the outside, a stage for unusual instruments with 100 foot-long playable strings emanating from it, and flame throwing robots (active only after dark).

My opinion of Goldenvoice's management of the sun and heat differed from that of avid festival-goers. One camper observed, "the organizers of the Bonnaroo festival seem to handle the heat better." He was probably referring to the existence of only two filling stations for potable water, scarcity of misting fans, and the incident where a security guard took his empty Nalgene bottle from him.

The organization of the campgrounds was one of my only points of contention. I don't mind roughing it, but organizers of large events should never make promises they can't keep. The Coachella website promised the camping ticket will call would be open all night; no such luck for those campers who had to sleep in their cars. It also promised 50' x 50' of space for each camper! We couldn't wait to see what this vast amount of space must look like. Turns out it looks a lot like 14' x 14' for each group. The website claimed campers would be able to meet up and camp with friends arriving separately by leaving group names at the camping box office. The box office consisted of an off-duty police officer slapping wristbands on kids and letting them past his folding table, and he was barely willing to do that job. No one I met had any complaints about camping offsite or staying in local hotels, but I would feel the same about camping onsite had I known what to expect.

Overall Coachella 2004 was one of the best concert-going experiences I could remember. A few logistical snags couldn't possibly keep me away next year.