What's more ironic than inviting the biggest names in "indie" music to play on a cruise ship? I'll tell you what: nothing (and if that nothing turned out to be something, you can be sure Coachella would find a way to package it in feathers and moccasins and sell the shit out of it).
Cheaper than Disney (though slightly pricier than Carnival's Caribbean tour), the S.S. Coachella vacation package offered guests all the amenities of a standard cruise, plus some eccentric extras like "Lazy Bingo" with Grimes (this begs the question: how does one make Bingo lazier than it already is? In lieu of shouting "bingo" do you just slump to one side as if you're too apathetic to support your own weight?), and a juicy diary read-along.
Last month the S.S. Coachella made its maiden voyage, traveling the great unexplored territories of the world; promoting a class-less environment where Jarvis Cocker waited in the same buffet line as the ticket-paying nobodies; and most of all, showcasing some pretty awesome music (full lineup here). Not least of which, the incomparable Josh Tillman, who these days goes by the name Father John Misty. Watch him perform an...impassioned version of R. Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly," complete with emotional hand gestures, Har Mar Superstar, and that voice. He even mildly sexually harassed an unsuspecting guest, much to her delight.
Father John Misty, "I Believe I Can Fly" (R. Kelly cover)
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