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Thread: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

  1. #17761
    old school Grant's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    yeahs.



    CONFIRMED
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    the best songs are the ones that dont remind you of anyone in particular yet still give you that utter euphoric contentedness of perfection in your mind, body and soul. keep them close.
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    A bag of doritos > RHCP > getting kicked in the balls > Mumford & Sons > skinned alive > Macklemore
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    Ohh god, you guys are so fucking sensitive. Yes there is potential to get laid at Coachella if you camp or are willing to have sex against the fences by the Sahara.

  2. #17762
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by faxman75 View Post
    Will Supre come back to this thread and yell at me again today? She was pretty mad at me yesterday. I liked it. The good news is that by getting her mad she kinda revealed the lineup would be out today and not tomorrow the 23rd of January.

    I'm still sticking to my guns though about tomorrow. The real question remains. Urban headliner or not? If there is an urban headliner, will her/she punch me in the face for calling them urban?
    If you are wrong about the 23rd, will you go away forever? Or at least stop trying to push the urban thing?

  3. #17763

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by bemerrit View Post
    If she fucks your chin, would that be considered butt sex?!
    I just spit my cilantro infused squash chicken tortilla soup with extra organic jalapeno seeds all over my monitor.
    Quote Originally Posted by mrhand View Post
    Keep on chugging. 788 more posts and you can submit your application.
    PARTYNEXTDOOR for 2014

  4. #17764
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by fetuspiniata View Post
    If you are wrong about the 23rd, will you go away forever? Or at least stop trying to push the urban thing?
    No, I will likely stay around forever and continue promoting "the urban thing". Sorry, you should learn to accept there is a formula for this stuff.

  5. #17765

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by bemerritt View Post
    If she fucks your chin, would that be considered butt sex?
    hahahahaaaaaaaaaa at least there is SOME entertainment value in here
    Coachella '10, '11, '12 (w2), '13 (w1), '14 (w1) and hopefully every one after

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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one talking about Governor's Ball having a secret headliner? Perhaps one that can't be released until Coachella releases their lineup?

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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one talking about the Postal Service?
    Quote Originally Posted by ruetheday View Post
    I don't fucking care. I don't even know who the hell Dave Wang is.
    Quote Originally Posted by Devin the Dude View Post
    you used to be that guy that just Dave Wang's everybody. that guy. he's gone now, and whoever you really are showed up, and that was utter disappointment.

  8. #17768
    Coachella Junkie WhyTheLongFace's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one talking about Aerosmith?

  9. #17769
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by WhyTheLongFace View Post
    Why is no one talking about Governor's Ball having a secret headliner? Perhaps one that can't be released until Coachella releases their lineup?
    Every time someone says "why isn't anyone talking about ..... " they just missed that conversation earlier in the day.

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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by fetuspiniata View Post
    If you are wrong about the 23rd, will you go away forever? Or at least stop trying to push the urban thing?
    Faxman stays as long as he likes and you will accept it.

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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Currently 1145 users checking out the boards. Thanks to a majority of you reading this for not signing up to be a member here.

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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by faxman75 View Post
    No, I will likely stay around forever and continue promoting "the urban thing". Sorry, you should learn to accept there is a formula for this stuff.
    Wishful thinking

  13. #17773

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one paying attention to the Beach House tour dates?

  14. #17774
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    A Rose for Guedita

    I

    WHEN Miss Guedita Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a fallen monument, the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house, which no one save an old man-servant--a combined gardener and cook--had seen in at least ten years.

    It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been white, decorated with cupolas and spires and scrolled balconies in the heavily lightsome style of the seventies, set on what had once been our most select street. But garages and cotton gins had encroached and obliterated even the august names of that neighborhood; only Miss Guedita's house was left, lifting its stubborn and coquettish decay above the cotton wagons and the gasoline pumps-an eyesore among eyesores. And now Miss Guedita had gone to join the representatives of those august names where they lay in the cedar-bemused cemetery among the ranked and anonymous graves of Union and Confederate soldiers who fell at the battle of Jefferson.

    Alive, Miss Guedita had been a tradition, a duty, and a care; a sort of hereditary obligation upon the town, dating from that day in 1894 when Colonel Sartoris, the mayor--he who fathered the edict that no Negro woman should appear on the streets without an apron-remitted her taxes, the dispensation dating from the death of her father on into perpetuity. Not that Miss Guedita would have accepted charity. Colonel Sartoris invented an involved tale to the effect that Miss Guedita's father had loaned money to the town, which the town, as a matter of business, preferred this way of repaying. Only a man of Colonel Sartoris' generation and thought could have invented it, and only a woman could have believed it.

    When the next generation, with its more modern ideas, became mayors and aldermen, this arrangement created some little dissatisfaction. On the first of the year they mailed her a tax notice. February came, and there was no reply. They wrote her a formal letter, asking her to call at the sheriff's office at her convenience. A week later the mayor wrote her himself, offering to call or to send his car for her, and received in reply a note on paper of an archaic shape, in a thin, flowing calligraphy in faded ink, to the effect that she no longer went out at all. The tax notice was also enclosed, without comment.

    They called a special meeting of the Board of Aldermen. A deputation waited upon her, knocked at the door through which no visitor had passed since she ceased giving china-painting lessons eight or ten years earlier. They were admitted by the old Negro into a dim hall from which a stairway mounted into still more shadow. It smelled of dust and disuse--a close, dank smell. The Negro led them into the parlor. It was furnished in heavy, leather-covered furniture. When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they could see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray. On a tarnished gilt easel before the fireplace stood a crayon portrait of Miss Guedita's father.

    They rose when she entered--a small, fat woman in black, with a thin gold chain descending to her waist and vanishing into her belt, leaning on an ebony cane with a tarnished gold head. Her skeleton was small and spare; perhaps that was why what would have been merely plumpness in another was obesity in her. She looked bloated, like a body long submerged in motionless water, and of that pallid hue. Her eyes, lost in the fatty ridges of her face, looked like two small pieces of coal pressed into a lump of dough as they moved from one face to another while the visitors stated their errand.

    She did not ask them to sit. She just stood in the door and listened quietly until the spokesman came to a stumbling halt. Then they could hear the invisible watch ticking at the end of the gold chain.

    Her voice was dry and cold. "I have no taxes in Jefferson. Colonel Sartoris explained it to me. Perhaps one of you can gain access to the city records and satisfy yourselves."

    "But we have. We are the city authorities, Miss Guedita. Didn't you get a notice from the sheriff, signed by him?"

    "I received a paper, yes," Miss Guedita said. "Perhaps he considers himself the sheriff . . . I have no taxes in Jefferson."

    "But there is nothing on the books to show that, you see We must go by the--"

    "See Colonel Sartoris. I have no taxes in Jefferson."

    "But, Miss Guedita--"

    "See Colonel Sartoris." (Colonel Sartoris had been dead almost ten years.) "I have no taxes in Jefferson. Tobe!" The Negro appeared. "Show these gentlemen out."
    ________________________________________
    II

    So SHE vanquished them, horse and foot, just as she had vanquished their fathers thirty years before about the smell.

    That was two years after her father's death and a short time after her sweetheart--the one we believed would marry her --had deserted her. After her father's death she went out very little; after her sweetheart went away, people hardly saw her at all. A few of the ladies had the temerity to call, but were not received, and the only sign of life about the place was the Negro man--a young man then--going in and out with a market basket.

    "Just as if a man--any man--could keep a kitchen properly, "the ladies said; so they were not surprised when the smell developed. It was another link between the gross, teeming world and the high and mighty Griersons.
    A neighbor, a woman, complained to the mayor, Judge Stevens, eighty years old.

    "But what will you have me do about it, madam?" he said.

    "Why, send her word to stop it," the woman said. "Isn't there a law? "

    "I'm sure that won't be necessary," Judge Stevens said. "It's probably just a snake or a rat that ****** of hers killed in the yard. I'll speak to him about it."

    The next day he received two more complaints, one from a man who came in diffident deprecation. "We really must do something about it, Judge. I'd be the last one in the world to bother Miss Guedita, but we've got to do something." That night the Board of Aldermen met--three graybeards and one younger man, a member of the rising generation.

    "It's simple enough," he said. "Send her word to have her place cleaned up. Give her a certain time to do it in, and if she don't. .."

    "Dammit, sir," Judge Stevens said, "will you accuse a lady to her face of smelling bad?"

    So the next night, after midnight, four men crossed Miss Guedita's lawn and slunk about the house like burglars, sniffing along the base of the brickwork and at the cellar openings while one of them performed a regular sowing motion with his hand out of a sack slung from his shoulder. They broke open the cellar door and sprinkled lime there, and in all the outbuildings. As they recrossed the lawn, a window that had been dark was lighted and Miss Guedita sat in it, the light behind her, and her upright torso motionless as that of an idol. They crept quietly across the lawn and into the shadow of the locusts that lined the street. After a week or two the smell went away.

    That was when people had begun to feel really sorry for her. People in our town, remembering how old lady Wyatt, her great-aunt, had gone completely crazy at last, believed that the Griersons held themselves a little too high for what they really were. None of the young men were quite good enough for Miss Guedita and such. We had long thought of them as a tableau, Miss Guedita a slender figure in white in the background, her father a spraddled silhouette in the foreground, his back to her and clutching a horsewhip, the two of them framed by the back-flung front door. So when she got to be thirty and was still single, we were not pleased exactly, but vindicated; even with insanity in the family she wouldn't have turned down all of her chances if they had really materialized.

    When her father died, it got about that the house was all that was left to her; and in a way, people were glad. At last they could pity Miss Guedita. Being left alone, and a pauper, she had become humanized. Now she too would know the old thrill and the old despair of a penny more or less.

    The day after his death all the ladies prepared to call at the house and offer condolence and aid, as is our custom Miss Guedita met them at the door, dressed as usual and with no trace of grief on her face. She told them that her father was not dead. She did that for three days, with the ministers calling on her, and the doctors, trying to persuade her to let them dispose of the body. Just as they were about to resort to law and force, she broke down, and they buried her father quickly.

    We did not say she was crazy then. We believed she had to do that. We remembered all the young men her father had driven away, and we knew that with nothing left, she would have to cling to that which had robbed her, as people will.
    ________________________________________
    III

    SHE WAS SICK for a long time. When we saw her again, her hair was cut short, making her look like a girl, with a vague resemblance to those angels in colored church windows--sort of tragic and serene.

    The town had just let the contracts for paving the sidewalks, and in the summer after her father's death they began the work. The construction company came with riggers and mules and machinery, and a foreman named Xanman, a Yankee--a big, dark, ready man, with a big voice and eyes lighter than his face. The little boys would follow in groups to hear him cuss the riggers, and the riggers singing in time to the rise and fall of picks. Pretty soon he knew everybody in town. Whenever you heard a lot of laughing anywhere about the square, Xanman would be in the center of the group. Presently we began to see him and Miss Guedita on Sunday afternoons driving in the yellow-wheeled buggy and the matched team of bays from the livery stable.

    At first we were glad that Miss Guedita would have an interest, because the ladies all said, "Of course a Grierson would not think seriously of a Northerner, a day laborer." But there were still others, older people, who said that even grief could not cause a real lady to forgetnoblesse oblige -- without calling it noblesse oblige. They just said, "Poor Guedita. Her kinsfolk should come to her." She had some kin in Alabama; but years ago her father had fallen out with them over the estate of old lady Wyatt, the crazy woman, and there was no communication between the two families. They had not even been represented at the funeral.

    And as soon as the old people said, "Poor Guedita," the whispering began. "Do you suppose it's really so?" they said to one another. "Of course it is. What else could . . ." This behind their hands; rustling of craned silk and satin behind jalousies closed upon the sun of Sunday afternoon as the thin, swift clop-clop-clop of the matched team passed: "Poor Guedita."

    She carried her head high enough--even when we believed that she was fallen. It was as if she demanded more than ever the recognition of her dignity as the last Grierson; as if it had wanted that touch of earthiness to reaffirm her imperviousness. Like when she bought the rat poison, the arsenic. That was over a year after they had begun to say "Poor Guedita," and while the two female cousins were visiting her.

    "I want some poison," she said to the druggist. She was over thirty then, still a slight woman, though thinner than usual, with cold, haughty black eyes in a face the flesh of which was strained across the temples and about the eyesockets as you imagine a lighthouse-keeper's face ought to look. "I want some poison," she said.

    "Yes, Miss Guedita. What kind? For rats and such? I'd recom--"

    "I want the best you have. I don't care what kind."

    The druggist named several. "They'll kill anything up to an elephant. But what you want is--"

    "Arsenic," Miss Guedita said. "Is that a good one?"

    "Is . . . arsenic? Yes, ma'am. But what you want--"

    "I want arsenic."

    The druggist looked down at her. She looked back at him, erect, her face like a strained flag. "Why, of course," the druggist said. "If that's what you want. But the law requires you to tell what you are going to use it for."

    Miss Guedita just stared at him, her head tilted back in order to look him eye for eye, until he looked away and went and got the arsenic and wrapped it up. The Negro delivery boy brought her the package; the druggist didn't come back. When she opened the package at home there was written on the box, under the skull and bones: "For rats."
    ________________________________________
    IV

    So THE NEXT day we all said, "She will kill herself"; and we said it would be the best thing. When she had first begun to be seen with Xanman, we had said, "She will marry him." Then we said, "She will persuade him yet," because Xanman himself had remarked--he liked men, and it was known that he drank with the younger men in the Elks' Club--that he was not a marrying man. Later we said, "Poor Guedita" behind the jalousies as they passed on Sunday afternoon in the glittering buggy, Miss Guedita with her head high and Xanman with his hat cocked and a cigar in his teeth, reins and whip in a yellow glove.

    Then some of the ladies began to say that it was a disgrace to the town and a bad example to the young people. The men did not want to interfere, but at last the ladies forced the Baptist minister--Miss Guedita's people were Episcopal-- to call upon her. He would never divulge what happened during that interview, but he refused to go back again. The next Sunday they again drove about the streets, and the following day the minister's wife wrote to Miss Guedita's relations in Alabama.

    So she had blood-kin under her roof again and we sat back to watch developments. At first nothing happened. Then we were sure that they were to be married. We learned that Miss Guedita had been to the jeweler's and ordered a man's toilet set in silver, with the letters H. B. on each piece. Two days later we learned that she had bought a complete outfit of men's clothing, including a nightshirt, and we said, "They are married." We were really glad. We were glad because the two female cousins were even more Grierson than Miss Guedita had ever been.

    So we were not surprised when Xanman--the streets had been finished some time since--was gone. We were a little disappointed that there was not a public blowing-off, but we believed that he had gone on to prepare for Miss Guedita's coming, or to give her a chance to get rid of the cousins. (By that time it was a cabal, and we were all Miss Guedita's allies to help circumvent the cousins.) Sure enough, after another week they departed. And, as we had expected all along, within three days Xanman was back in town. A neighbor saw the Negro man admit him at the kitchen door at dusk one evening.

    And that was the last we saw of Xanman. And of Miss Guedita for some time. The Negro man went in and out with the market basket, but the front door remained closed. Now and then we would see her at a window for a moment, as the men did that night when they sprinkled the lime, but for almost six months she did not appear on the streets. Then we knew that this was to be expected too; as if that quality of her father which had thwarted her woman's life so many times had been too virulent and too furious to die.

    When we next saw Miss Guedita, she had grown fat and her hair was turning gray. During the next few years it grew grayer and grayer until it attained an even pepper-and-salt iron-gray, when it ceased turning. Up to the day of her death at seventy-four it was still that vigorous iron-gray, like the hair of an active man.

    From that time on her front door remained closed, save for a period of six or seven years, when she was about forty, during which she gave lessons in china-painting. She fitted up a studio in one of the downstairs rooms, where the daughters and granddaughters of Colonel Sartoris' contemporaries were sent to her with the same regularity and in the same spirit that they were sent to church on Sundays with a twenty-five-cent piece for the collection plate. Meanwhile her taxes had been remitted.

    Then the newer generation became the backbone and the spirit of the town, and the painting pupils grew up and fell away and did not send their children to her with boxes of color and tedious brushes and pictures cut from the ladies' magazines. The front door closed upon the last one and remained closed for good. When the town got free postal delivery, Miss Guedita alone refused to let them fasten the metal numbers above her door and attach a mailbox to it. She would not listen to them.

    Daily, monthly, yearly we watched the Negro grow grayer and more stooped, going in and out with the market basket. Each December we sent her a tax notice, which would be returned by the post office a week later, unclaimed. Now and then we would see her in one of the downstairs windows--she had evidently shut up the top floor of the house--like the carven torso of an idol in a niche, looking or not looking at us, we could never tell which. Thus she passed from generation to generation--dear, inescapable, impervious, tranquil, and perverse.

    And so she died. Fell ill in the house filled with dust and shadows, with only a doddering Negro man to wait on her. We did not even know she was sick; we had long since given up trying to get any information from the Negro

    He talked to no one, probably not even to her, for his voice had grown harsh and rusty, as if from disuse.

    She died in one of the downstairs rooms, in a heavy walnut bed with a curtain, her gray head propped on a pillow yellow and moldy with age and lack of sunlight.
    ________________________________________
    V

    THE NEGRO met the first of the ladies at the front door and let them in, with their hushed, sibilant voices and their quick, curious glances, and then he disappeared. He walked right through the house and out the back and was not seen again.

    The two female cousins came at once. They held the funeral on the second day, with the town coming to look at Miss Guedita beneath a mass of bought flowers, with the crayon face of her father musing profoundly above the bier and the ladies sibilant and macabre; and the very old men --some in their brushed Confederate uniforms--on the porch and the lawn, talking of Miss Guedita as if she had been a contemporary of theirs, believing that they had danced with her and courted her perhaps, confusing time with its mathematical progression, as the old do, to whom all the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches, divided from them now by the narrow bottle-neck of the most recent decade of years.

    Already we knew that there was one room in that region above stairs which no one had seen in forty years, and which would have to be forced. They waited until Miss Guedita was decently in the ground before they opened it.

    The violence of breaking down the door seemed to fill this room with pervading dust. A thin, acrid pall as of the tomb seemed to lie everywhere upon this room decked and furnished as for a bridal: upon the valance curtains of faded rose color, upon the rose-shaded lights, upon the dressing table, upon the delicate array of crystal and the man's toilet things backed with tarnished silver, silver so tarnished that the monogram was obscured. Among them lay a collar and tie, as if they had just been removed, which, lifted, left upon the surface a pale crescent in the dust. Upon a chair hung the suit, carefully folded; beneath it the two mute shoes and the discarded socks.

    The man himself lay in the bed.

    For a long while we just stood there, looking down at the profound and fleshless grin. The body had apparently once lain in the attitude of an embrace, but now the long sleep that outlasts love, that conquers even the grimace of love, had cuckolded him. What was left of him, rotted beneath what was left of the nightshirt, had become inextricable from the bed in which he lay; and upon him and upon the pillow beside him lay that even coating of the patient and biding dust.

    Then we noticed that in the second pillow was the indentation of a head. One of us lifted something from it, and leaning forward, that faint and invisible dust dry and acrid in the nostrils, we saw a long strand of iron-gray hair.
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  15. #17775
    Member Larry Farnsworth's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by WhyTheLongFace View Post
    Why is no one talking about Governor's Ball having a secret headliner? Perhaps one that can't be released until Coachella releases their lineup?
    Because they (Governor's Ball) did the exact same thing last year.

    It was Kid Cudi.
    Quote Originally Posted by baily View Post
    Eat a dick on that or did I make too much sense for your mind to take

  16. #17776

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    But what about Underworld?

  17. #17777
    old school SepaGroove's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by JustSteve View Post
    Currently 1145 users checking out the boards. Thanks to a majority of you reading this for not signing up to be a member here.
    Don't give them any ideas.

  18. #17778
    Coachella Junkie faxman75's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why are they delaying this again? Coachella is just making this worse and they look like a joke right now.

  19. #17779
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by Larry Farnsworth View Post
    Because they (Governor's Ball) did the exact same thing last year.

    It was Kid Cudi.
    What an underwhelming secret headliner.

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    Coachella Junkie malcolmjamalawesome's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Faxman: the poor man's xanman
    Quote Originally Posted by ruetheday View Post
    I don't fucking care. I don't even know who the hell Dave Wang is.
    Quote Originally Posted by Devin the Dude View Post
    you used to be that guy that just Dave Wang's everybody. that guy. he's gone now, and whoever you really are showed up, and that was utter disappointment.

  21. #17781
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by faxman75 View Post
    Why are they delaying this again? Coachella is just making this worse and they look like a joke right now.
    Indeed they are.

    Is it really possible that they are scrambling to find another headliner?

  22. #17782
    whiney pain in butt
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one talking about Talking Heads?

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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by malcolmjamalawesome View Post
    Faxman: the poor man's xanman
    Poor me.

    I think the Talking Heads could headline. They would also a be a reunion.

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    Coachella Junkie malcolmjamalawesome's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one talking about talking about Talking Heads
    Quote Originally Posted by ruetheday View Post
    I don't fucking care. I don't even know who the hell Dave Wang is.
    Quote Originally Posted by Devin the Dude View Post
    you used to be that guy that just Dave Wang's everybody. that guy. he's gone now, and whoever you really are showed up, and that was utter disappointment.

  25. #17785
    Coachella Junkie GuyInTucson's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2010
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one talking about someone who could fill the 4:30 pm slot in the Gobi?

  26. #17786

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Dey ain't gotz no other hEadlinER
    Quote Originally Posted by mrhand View Post
    Keep on chugging. 788 more posts and you can submit your application.
    PARTYNEXTDOOR for 2014

  27. #17787
    Coachella Junkie Miroir Noir's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    faxanman
    Quote Originally Posted by canexplain View Post
    To you guys I say Wat?????????? Off to ?????? ....... cr****
    Quote Originally Posted by TomAz View Post
    It's hard to argue with that.

  28. #17788
    Coachella Junkie stinkbutt's Avatar
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    Mar 2008
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by roboto View Post
    And stinkbutt leaving a motorhead set when you know he's dying just to talk shit ? Your a shitty person as well .please let mja give you an anal love disease .

  29. #17789
    Coachella Junkie WhyTheLongFace's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Why is no one talking about the freshmen on Instagram?

  30. #17790

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by WhyTheLongFace View Post
    Why is no one talking about Aerosmith?
    Did I miss something?
    "why are you so annoying" TheKlein25

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