Coachella day 2: How No Doubt & Sublime saved our lives

It happened to me on the second day. I cried my eyes out to a song at Coachella.

While we drove up to the parking lot, I grew more and more anxious because I felt like we’d miss Sublime because they were the first on our list for the day. As soon as we crossed the gates, I speed walked to the main stage because Jakob Nowel, who is the son of Sublime’s former frontman Bradley Nowel, has taken over the family business. 

On the second day of a festival, you start to get the hang of things and walk in with a small strain on your feet and ankles. We did as best we could in the heat to get to the main stage where I could already hear the baseline of Garden Grove. As someone who grew up with Sublime burned CD playlists that mixed with 311, The Cure, Tijuana No!, Sepultura and more, I’ve known these songs for more than 15 years and was surprised to see the band’s name on the lineup when it was first announced.

I wondered, would Bradley’s son sound just like his dad? What has been a cathartic set of sounds for so many Latinos and Chicanos for over 30 years, would it be revived? In what became the one set I needed to see at this festival, I grew even more nervous at the reality that I’d finally get to hear a song that has been there for me since I was a teenager. 

For me, Sublime’s music has always made sense the older I get. I’ve lost friends to substance misuse, and know loved ones who’ve lost others to it, too. When I learned as a teenager that Bradley Nowell passed to an overdose addiction, I listened to his lyrics intensely and learned that many of the metaphors were about that struggle and that we as people cope the best we can in this life. As an adult, I’ve struggled with depression and my own relationship with alcohol and drugs. Bradley’s life and legacy have always inspired me to stay sober and keep going. 

So when I heard the first strings of "Badfish," I felt a wave of warmth come over me. You see, the song has been my top song on Spotify for years and I always grew sad that I would never be able to see it live with Bradley Nowel. But not only did his son sound like him, you could tell through the set that he understood what the lyrics meant. For me the song was always about hope for a better life, accepting  that it can be hard but a surrendering  to something bigger. 

No Doubt 

Southern California’s Latino community showed up for No Doubt on Day 2 at Coachella this April. From the checkerboards to the red, the crowd was full of skankers from all across the region. Throughout the day, I asked fans where they were from and most were from Los Angeles County, the Inland Empire and of course Orange County. 

In what many have called the band that pushed two tone ska into the larger American mainstream, No Doubt to me was always  the underground hometown band that shaped me. After moving from Los Angeles to Orange County, I learned in high school that this region had a strong relationship with backyard shows. No Doubt’s band members went to Loara High School, a school that sits right by Disneyland. 

A lot has been written about the relationship this resort has with the community of Anaheim, but my favorite conversation has always been "Tragic Kingdom." The album, my favorite from the group, was a CD I routinely listened to as a teenager. Back in 2008, a classmate of mine’s mom worked in music and got him and me tickets to see No Doubt at the now closed Gibson Amphitheatre’s pit. She did push ups and I moshed my heart out. So this year, I knew it would be magical.

I will try my best to articulate that you, reader, may have missed one of the best performances of a ska and rock band of all time. I’m sorry it's just the truth. Gwen, Adrian, Tony and Tom put on a truly nostalgic and exciting show this year. And yes Gwen did push ups.

My favorite part was seeing my loved ones scream and cry to their favorite jams. And, yes reader, I moshed and cried, too.