Photos: Scenes from the 2025 Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival
Music fans get sprayed with a water canon at Do Lab on the first day of the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival at the Empire Polo Club in Indio, Calif.
(Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times)
Two people pass a mister to keep cool.
Benson Boone and Queen guitarist Brian May on the Coachella Stage at the 2025 Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival in Indio, Calif., on April 11.
1
2
3
4
1. Indio, CA - April 11: Music fans get sprayed with a water canon at Do Lab on the first day of the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival at the Empire Polo Club in Indio Friday, April 11, 2025. (Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times) (Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times) 2. Meg Hope twirls daughter Calliope Hope-Williams, 9 months of New Zealand. 3. Chuchi Janes stands in front of the art installation Take Fly. 4. Music fans get sprayed with a water canon.
Aquite performs at Do Lab on the first day of the Coachella.
Cherilyn and Adele, 6, in fairy outfits with Peter S enjoying frozen ice.
Gustavo Luna of Manteca dressed in black leather, jumping off a flower installation.
Belinda Carlisle of the Go-Go's.
Jane Wiedlin, left, and Kathy Valentine of the Go-Go's.
Music fans enjoying Benson Boone perform.
A camper and canopies are reflected in the lake as they head back to their campground.
Campers are silhouetted as they arrive on the first night of Coachella.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
USA Today
33 minutes ago
- USA Today
Culture Club film delves into history filled with drama, Boy George, love and drugs
Culture Club film delves into history filled with drama, Boy George, love and drugs Show Caption Hide Caption Billy Joel 'Will Be Back' After Missing His Documentary Premiere Billy Joel had planned to attend the premiere of his documentary, 'Billy Joel: And So It Goes' at the Tribeca Festival, but canceled due to medical concerns. unbranded - Entertainment NEW YORK – Considering how much Boy George talked about enjoying the attention that came with fronting one of the most tenured bands of the New Wave movement, it was a bit surprising that he wasn't in the room during the world premiere of "Boy George & Culture Club." The new documentary from Alison Ellwood, noted for her recent deep dives into the Laurel Canyon scene and the careers of Cyndi Lauper and The Go-Go's, spotlights the British quartet as they catapulted to stratospheric success in the early-'80s with a distinctive combination of pop, reggae and blue-eyed soul hits. Guitarist Roy Hay and Mikey Craig attended the screening held at BMCC Tribeca Performing Arts Center on June 5. After the Tribeca Film Festival premiere, Hay was particularly emotional about the 96-minute film that traverses the band's two years of indisputable world domination with smashes "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me" and "Karma Chameleon," their steep fall from glory, Boy George and drummer Jon Moss' tempestuous romantic relationship and George's heroin addiction. "It was quite a journey," Hay said from the venue's stage, his voice catching at times. "I wasn't prepared for (the film) to hit me so powerfully. Like Mikey, I have scar tissue from this band … it is a soap opera, but it was such a special thing and these guys are like brothers to me." Hay also expressed sadness that Moss, who won $2.3 million in a 2023 lawsuit against the band after alleging he was expelled from the group before a 2018 tour, wasn't present to watch the film with his old group mates. But even though the film candidly acknowledges the bitterness the Culture Club members not named Boy George felt at the singular attention he commanded, as the vibrant and cheeky lead singer, Hay, at least, is ready to bury the thorny parts of the relationship. "George is one of the most talented artists I have worked with," Hay said. "He is the most naturally talented man I ever met." More: From Billy Joel to Miley, Tribeca Film Festival goes all in on music movies Culture Club always cultivated humor and drama Ellwood excels at highlighting people, regardless of their level of fame, in an unvarnished state. But her true gift is allowing the natural humor of her subjects to flourish. As Moss recalls meeting George for the first time, the camera cuts to the man himself current day, preening into his smartphone camera and fluttering his indigo-shaded eyes. George reflects on how the foursome became Culture Club – named for their varied musical tastes and backgrounds – and downplays his entry into the group. "I stumbled into it because I fancied the drummer," he cackles from under one his now-trademark rounded top hats. That love affair with Moss was the foundation and the bulldozer to Culture Club, at times keeping George grounded and at others sparking the singer's legendary petulance. "I showed my mom a picture of George and she said, 'He's beautiful … don't tell your father,'" Moss says with a smile. Audio of a screaming match in the studio during the recording of the band's landmark 1983 album "Colour By Numbers" illuminates the frustration among the members. But even though no one in the band aside from George wanted "Karma Chameleon" on the album (Moss jokes about the song's perplexing lyrics), and the video shoot on a Mississippi riverboat spurred another round of agita ("Oh dear," Moss remembers thinking of his ruffled shirt at the time), none of the band members regrets the outcome. "I think we lost a lot of credibility with 'Karma Chameleon,'" Hay says. "But it's what we're remembered for." More: Billy Joel's documentary digs deep into past with poignancy – but he's 'not finished yet' Boy George endured intense homophobia in the '80s Ellwood also doesn't circumvent the reality of the era for a band with a frontman who wore more makeup than the cast of "Dallas" and was, to many people in the '80s, a freak not worth hearing, no matter his stunning voice. Vintage concert video shows George, clad in the multicolored frock and wide-brimmed hat he turned into a much-emulated fashion statement during Culture Club's U.S. conquest, sashaying around a stage crooning singing "Church of the Poison Mind" to an obviously full and large venue befitting the band's status in 1983. But Ellwood also unearthed video of a young George looking down and away on stage as Culture Club performs an early club show and homophobic slurs are flung at him from the crowd. He navigates the situation gracefully, but with obvious hurt. Interview clips from visits to David Letterman and Johnny Carson's late night shows are also cringe-inducing as the men force George to defend his flamboyant exterior, which he does with confidence and self-deprecation. He finally reminds Carson of Liberace and quips, "I'm hardly revolutionary." Culture Club members lament missing Band Aid, Live Aid But like any breakup, the skid from mega-stardom to ego-driven demise, is a painful one. Craig still laments – both on film and on the Tribeca stage – that he and Hay were not invited to participate in Band Aid, the Bob Geldof-speared charity event that corralled nearly every major British superstar of the time to sing on "Do They Know It's Christmas?" The explanation at the time was the Craig and Hay were partying in New York and couldn't get back to London. Craig's facial expression during the retelling indicates that was not quite true. Craig harbors even more regret that Culture Club did not participate in Live Aid, the massive two-continent concert staged by Geldof that included megastars David Bowie, Elton John, Led Zeppelin and Mick Jagger. George wouldn't commit to the performance, which the band later learned was because he was on a drug binge with fellow androgynous '80s singer Marilyn. A serious substance abuse problem, an arrest for heroin possession and ensuing rehab for George spurred a quiet disappearing act for Culture Club. But the band, which continues to tour without Moss, has made amends with their past and maintains their affection for each other. "It's been an amazing journey," Moss says in the film. "And George is an amazing person."
Yahoo
an hour ago
- Yahoo
Hailey Bieber's ‘Priority Is Protecting Her Family' Amid Speculation About Husband Justin's Mental Health
Heads turned when Hailey Bieber stepped out of NYC's Carlyle Hotel. Wearing a black double-breasted menswear-inspired Saint Laurent mini dress, sky-high patent leather heels and Tiffany & Co. diamonds, she waved to photographers with one hand while clutching a vodka cocktail in the other as she left for the Met Gala. 'One thing about me,' she wrote on her Instagram Stories following the glamorous May 5 event — which she attended solo — 'is I'm gonna wear a blazer and drink a martini.' Another thing about Hailey? She's not going to answer questions about her husband, Justin Bieber, amid ongoing speculation over his health and well-being. Fresh concerns for the music star, 31 — who instead of attending the gala alongside his wife watched an NHL playoff game with friends, he revealed on Instagram — emerged one day earlier after he posted yet another image of himself using a bong. Though it's unclear exactly what he was smoking, the snap came weeks after he was spotted dancing and lighting up what fans believe was marijuana next to his 15-year-old brother, Jaxon, at California's Coachella music festival in April, following months of similarly worrying behavior. While his rep in February told TMZ the Grammy winner wasn't using hard drugs, branding the 'harmful narratives' about Justin's mental and physical health and tired, gaunt appearance 'exhausting,' Hailey, 28, is loath to publicly engage. 'She refuses to make excuses or speak for Justin,' a source exclusively tells Life & Style. 'The constant speculation about his mental state and their marriage has to be tough, but Hailey has a remarkable ability to stay calm. She is resilient and won't take any crap.' After nearly seven years of marriage to a former child star who's long courted controversy and been candid about his past issues with substance abuse and depression, Hailey's figured out how to handle the attention. The model, influencer and founder of the skincare line Rhode — who gave birth to their first child, son Jack, in August — 'makes and follows her own rules,' explains the source. 'Friends say her priority is protecting her family. Justin and Jack come first, which is why she is tuning everyone else out. She's focused on their future, not the drama.' That doesn't mean facing the seemingly never ending chatter has been easy. Fans follow and react to Justin's every move, so when he posts pictures with drug paraphernalia or confesses he's dealing with imposter syndrome — as he did this spring in a heartbreaking Instagram message, admitting he's 'always felt unworthy, like I was a fraud' and 'definitely feel[s] unequipped and unqualified most days' — they worry. So do friends and former members of the 'Sorry' singer's inner circle, many of whom he's cut ties with over the last year, including former manager Scooter Braun, 43. 'Whatever [Justin's] going through, I pray for him and hope he's OK,' songwriter Poo Bear, 45, a former collaborator, told The Hollywood Reporter in April. An ex member of Justin's team further told the outlet 'seeing him disintegrate like this' makes them think 'he's lost' and that 'there's no one protecting him.' A source close to the 'Love Yourself' hitmaker, however, insisted Justin isn't in distress. 'Artists are artists — they don't look at the world the way you and I do,' that source told THR, claiming, 'He's healthier than all of us — physically and mentally.' Justin and Hailey have put on a united front. He's been complimenting her social media posts — 'I see it I like it and I want it,' he commented on her Met Gala pics — and accusing haters of being envious. 'Honestly if I was [you] it would be hard not to be jealous if I saw me and Hailey going so brazzzzyy,' he told his Insta followers in April. 'Hailey and I are the Jones's [sic] that are impossible to keep up with.' Hailey's previously vowed to support Justin through anything. Three years into their marriage, she recounted a difficult period early on when he was struggling with his mental health. 'Imagine abandoning somebody in the middle of the worst time of their life,' she said on the "In Good Faith with Chelsea & Judah Smith" podcast, insisting, 'I'm not that type of a person.' That hasn't changed, the source confirms: 'Those who know her best are proud of the strength Hailey's shown.'
Los Angeles Times
3 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
Turnstile's Brendan Yates on what the hardcore band's new album might be about
Brendan Yates says he's learned innumerable things fronting his band Turnstile over the last decade and a half, not the least of which is that an ambitious musician needn't move to Los Angeles or New York to make it. 'There's nothing we haven't been able to figure out living in Baltimore,' Yates says, and Turnstile's success suggests he's right: In 2021, the band — which spent the 2010s steadily rising through the East Coast hardcore scene — scored three Grammy nominations with its breakout album, 'Glow On,' a set of fervent yet luscious punk jams laced with bits of funk, dream-pop and electronic dance music. The next year, Turnstile toured arenas as an opening act for My Chemical Romance then did the same for Blink-182. At April's Coachella festival, Charli XCX ended her main-stage performance with a video message predicting a 'Turnstile Summer.' Even so, the proud Charm City quintet — Yates on vocals along with guitarists Pat McCrory and Meg Mills, bassist Franz Lyons and drummer Daniel Fang — did come to L.A. to record its new follow-up LP, 'Never Enough,' setting up a studio in a rented mansion in Laurel Canyon where the band camped out for more than a month. 'We were looking for the experience where you kind of isolate a little bit, and Laurel Canyon has this tucked-away thing,' says Yates, who led the sessions as the album's producer. 'It was such a vibe.' The result extends 'Glow On's' adventurous spirit with sensual R&B grooves, guest appearances by Paramore's Hayley Williams and Blood Orange's Dev Hynes, even a flute solo by the British jazz star Shabaka Hutchings; 'Never Enough' comes accompanied by a short film that just premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival and will screen in selected theaters this weekend. Yates, 35, discussed the album over coffee last month in Silver Lake, a few days after Turnstile played a rowdy gig at L.A.'s Ukrainian Culture Center that featured an endless succession of stage-diving fans. Who did the cooking while you were recording in the house? We had a couple friends come in and cook meals. And we kept the fridge stocked. 'What are we gonna eat?' — you can lose hours out of every day to that. What's the advantage of making a record the way you did? You can kind of break away from normal life for a little bit and just exist in the music. You're not going to the studio but thinking, 'I've got to go to the grocery store later.' You wake up, have your little peaceful time in the morning before you get started, then just go right into the living room. We didn't really need to leave the house for weeks at a time. In a recent New York Times profile, the writer referred to you as Turnstile's 'workaholic frontman.' A fair characterization? I wouldn't describe myself that way, but I understand the sentiment. I'm in a band with people I grew up with — my closest friends — and we're really passionate about what we're doing. I give myself to it, but it never feels like work. When I was younger, I always separated music and real life. I thought of music as the thing that I love and real life as going to school and hating it. Even when I went to university, I was like, I'm not gonna do music. You wanted to protect music from the strictures of school. I guess so. I was doing these majors that I had no interest in. I started with kinesiology until I realized I suck at science and math. I switched to criminal justice, then I was like, 'Wait, what am I doing?' Honestly, I think I was just looking for whatever major I could mentally check out on the most to make more space for music. Did you graduate? I left early because I wasn't interested and I wasn't doing well, and I got the opportunity to tour with this band that I played drums in. Eventually, years later, I went back and got a communications degree online. Why? I ask myself the same question all the time. One thing is, I'd started and I wanted to finish it. I probably wouldn't have gone if it wasn't for remote schooling. I never went back into the classroom — I was in the back of the van writing essays. Does 35 feel old in hardcore years? It would have seemed ancient to me as a 16-year-old. Never in my wildest dreams would I think at 35 that I'd be doing the same things I was hyped on doing when I was in high school. But I feel like age is a bit of an illusion. When you're 12, you're like, 'I'm definitely gonna be married by 18 and have my first kid at 19.' Certain aspects of aging are less illusory, right? Physical sturdiness, for example. How does that compare to 10 years ago? I remember playing shows 10 years ago, and I had two knee braces on. At that time, I was just like, 'This is what it is — here on out, this is what my knees are doing.' You're saying in fact you're sturdier now. What I figured out — look, I'm not a singer. Earlier on in playing shows, I'd throw the mic down and just jump into the crowd, mostly because of nerves and adrenaline. Feels important to say that you're definitely a singer. I sing, but I wouldn't call myself a singer. I've never done vocal lessons. Even forming the band, at that time everyone was like, 'OK, we've got this band, but we should start one where you're on the drums.' This band was literally: 'Let's do one on the side where I'm singing and you should get on guitar. Franz, you've never played bass, but you should play bass in this one.' Then you wake up 10 years later and — oh, shoot — this is the one we've put a lot into. For every fan of Turnstile, you've got someone accusing you of ruining hardcore. Ever hear a critique that actually stung? I have no interest in having any dialogue about anyone's opinion about anything that I'm doing. I appreciate the definitiveness of that. It just doesn't matter. Whose praise has been especially meaningful? There's a great viral TikTok of James Hetfield and Rob Halford digging your set at some festival. We've had so many cool moments like that — just like, 'How is this real?' Obviously, getting to meet your childhood heroes is huge. But then there's also the people you build relationships with and end up in the studio together — Dev or our friend Mary Jane Dunphe. You realize: These are actually my favorite people making music right now. Notwithstanding your view on the opinions of others, what's a moment on this album that feels creatively risky? In the first single ['Never Enough'], after the band drops out, there's like two minutes of just this synth chord. There was very much a conversation: 'Is this too long? Should we shorten it?' And I'm sure there's plenty of people where it might just be white noise to them — like, 'Skip — I don't need this.' But I feel like with this album there's this intention to force yourself to sit with the chaotic moments and then sit with the very still moments and kind of have that relationship going back and forth. I think those moments of stillness are very connected to the film — you'll kind of see how it all works together and why those moments are necessary. Our dream scenario would be that people's first time hearing the album, they're watching it with the film. Someone says to you, 'I didn't really get the album until I saw the film' — that's OK by you? I would love that. Who opened the door to the idea that you could make a movie? The last album, we did a four-song EP ['Turnstile Love Connection'] that came with a video. I'd called my friend Ian [Hurdle], who's the DP, and I was like, 'Hey, I have an idea: We do this video, and it does all this and it's about 10 or 11 minutes with these four songs.' I told him the whole idea, and then I asked him, 'So who should we get to direct it?' He goes, 'It sounds like you're directing it.' I was like, 'I guess you're right.' I mean, I'm not a director. You've now called yourself not a singer and not a director. On paper, I don't have any experience. The only thing I have experience in is really being excited about trying to make something work. But that video was a huge learning experience — the idea of, like, OK, this is possible. There's a rainbow color pattern that recurs throughout the new album's videos. You're using it as a live backdrop too. What's it mean? There's a lot in the album that maybe ties into those colors. The record cover itself is a double rainbow. We were in Paris playing shows like a year and a half ago. We were walking around and it started raining while the sun was out. We're like, 'Yo, look' — there was this double rainbow. My friend snapped a photo, and that's the album cover. Maybe there's interpretations of that on a spiritual level — new beginnings or a transformation or openings to a different dimension. The album cover is very subtle. You could easily look at it and just see blue. That was brought to me — how intangible the cover is. But that's the point: I don't want vibrant rainbows. I want it to almost feel like nothingness. A small speck in a vast universe is kind of the feeling that was going into the music. The blue too — in the film, there's lots of ties to water and the vastness of the ocean. Very Malibu of you. I mean, side note: I drowned like 10 years ago in the ocean. I was saved by some locals — this was on a big surfer beach in Hawaii. This is not necessarily what the album is about, but more just like a thought process. What's always fascinated me about the ocean is its power and how small I felt in that moment as I was passing out. And I truly did pass out — saw the white light and everything. Just how fast that could happen and how small I could feel put things into perspective in a different way. OK, few more for you: One thing you guys have sort of crept up to but not quite done yet is a full-on ballad. The final song on the new record ['Magic Man'] is literally just me and a Juno [synthesizer] in my room. In some ways it's uncomfortable, but simultaneously it felt like it needed to happen. I needed to sing that. You don't drink. Does that have to do with your upbringing? Is it connected to a hardcore or straight-edge ideology? Maybe experience seeing things when you're younger that can lead you in a different way? But, I mean, getting into hardcore, finding out about straight-edge and stuff — I felt a little more comfortable in my own skin, not needing to drink. I like to make sure it's never from a place of being stubborn, where I'm just like, 'I don't drink because I made up this idea in my head that I'm not going to drink.' I don't think that's a good way to be about anything in life. If you were starting the band now, would you still put your website at Probably. At the time, was taken. I feel like that was such a cool time, where every band's MySpace or Twitter, it was the band's name plus 'HC.' That was such a time stamp. But yeah — hardcore music is what we all grew up in. It was like the funnel for us to find ourselves through a music scene and a culture and a community. What feels outside the window of possibility for Turnstile? 'We'll never write a country song,' or 'We'll never play a cruise.' We've done so many things that were outside our comfort zone. We did some arena shows, and that was such a cool learning experience — how to connect to someone who's 100 yards away, sitting down in a chair, versus a kid that's onstage with you. That show in L.A. the other night was like the ideal for us, where the stage is low and it's this intimate room. But then I had so many close friends who couldn't get in. You could see the show as Turnstile keeping it real or as Turnstile indulging itself. In a way, it made us inaccessible. I look forward to the Turnstile Cruise in 2028. It's been offered. It's never made sense. My first question is: What does the show feel like? Is it more about people going on a boat just to day-drink and throw up while we're playing? Or can you figure out a way to make it an actual thing? I don't know — it's not off the table. But I've never been on a cruise in my life. You've accurately sussed the vibe. I've seen the pictures.
