Desert Hearts festival returns at new location, but with typical passion and positivity
Joe Giuliano on
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After an excruciatingly long three years apart due to COVID-19, SoCal’s favorite party pagans, Desert Hearts, returned last weekend with enough pent-up positivity to set the entire hemisphere ablaze. Thanks to world events, the music and lifestyle festival known for its seemingly simple mantra — “House, Techno & Love” — shed their years-long residency at the Los Coyotes Indian Reservation and officially graduated to the big leagues at their vast new home at Lake Perris.
While the festival’s “One Stage, One Vibe” ethos has been repurposed into a “two stages … but one stage at a time” situation, it’s safe to say that four back-to-back daytime beach bacchanals, followed by three all-night Dionysian dance parties, turned out to be something entirely unique and worthy of praise. Desert Hearts was celebrating its 10th anniversary, and for all the things that changed in the last decade, enjoying the present moment was what remained.
With no Reservations willing to host the underground underdogs in the middle of a worldwide pandemic, the Desert Hearts organizers had to go above ground and take some risks. And those risks were graciously met with equal rewards. Lake Perris, while not free from challenges or criticisms, felt like a success story when one takes into consideration similar festival location changes in recent years. (Let’s not forget that Lightning in a Bottle would prefer to pretend that alleged shakedowns at Temecula never happened.) Law enforcement at Lake Perris opted for de-escalation and release over entrapment and arrests, so attendees were free to let their freak flags fly. (Pro tip: Let the Healing Sanctuary handle the psychedelic hurdles you’re ill-equipped to handle.)
No sea change of this magnitude would be exempt from growing pains, but how you respond to them certainly defines you. Desert Hearts may have a few things to iron out before next year, but it’s unlikely that they won’t rise to the task. Parking and camping felt spread out and dispersed in comparison to Los Coyotes? (Shrink and consolidate the grounds next year if necessary.) Glamping amenities were lackluster? (Double down on it next time and get it right.) Too hot on the beach? (Add a sexy shade structure.)
Those challenges proved blips on the radar for an event that known for earth-shaking celebrations. This year, the legendary Chinosound crew provided their otherworldly soundsystem, and Todd “Chino” Anisman’s displayed an almost inhuman ability to tune a system set for alien transmissions. Pair them up with Alternative Lighting Solutions’ intergalactic lightshows, and you have the recipe for a synesthesia-inducing sensory overload.
What was birthed from this 10-year anniversary was a reaffirmation of everything they set out to do from the beginning: Spread as much love through music as humanly possible. They gave tribute to their roots with camps like Pile Palace, Savage Hearts (Wench Toast for the win!) and Shangri-Lawless getting prime placement. Returning were Desert Hearts staples such as Memo Rex, Dink, Justin Campbell, Evan Casey, Wyatt Marshall, Rybo, Atish, Rinzen, Shaded, Joyce Muniz, Kevin Knapp, Tara Brooks and Doc Martin, making it a lineup worthy of a 10-year anniversary. The festival expanded on the vibed-out and oft-neglected Healing Sanctuary and they layered in new psychedelic art pieces and immersive installations like the Rabbit Hole and the Tavern to ensure casual passers-by would be wowed by the novelty. Shoutout to the Copacabana Girls, who created one of the most ridiculous and hilarious bar shows I’ve ever witnessed.
In the end, Desert Hearts continued to remodel their love for music and community into something better, no matter the obstacles. The pre-pandemic world may be a distant memory, and Los Coyotes may be left to attendees’ nostalgic tales, but theirs is a future of endless potential.
Lest we not forget the music, here are my Top 5 in no particular order:
The mustachioed second coming of disco Christ literally revived a dancefloor of lost souls looking for salvation after an unexpected vibe-killer of a set. The man has been called the Keith Richards of dance music and this night was no different. The Balearic-beat-turned-disco-house set was exactly what we needed to kick it up a notch into the wee hours, forgetting about the impending doom all around us. There’s something to be said about reputation and accountability when you can consistently deliver like no one else does. DJ Harvey deserves that praise. Over and over again.
The Berlin-based producer and founder of the label Voltage Musique is an uber-talented wunderkind with thousands of tracks to his name and multiple noms de plume. His prolific qualifications are staggering and his highly danceable set had the crowd in a collective hallucination so controlled, we should thank him that he uses his powers for good and not evil. There wasn’t a soul in sight that wasn’t flowing to the groove orchestrated by this man’s capable hands. Historically speaking, we owe music in general to the Germans: Bach, Beethoven, Zimmer and Henneberg.
Italian dream queen and hypnotic provocateur Francesca Lombardo created an environment where the sound and feel transcended the dancefloor into something entirely ethereal and emotional. I was lost in the moments between wake and dream. like a Keanu Reeves “Matrix” quote about chasing that white rabbit … even without the mescaline. Bonus points are owed for her “Life of Releaf” global reforestation campaign fitting in so perfectly with Desert Hearts’ more charitable endeavors like the Love Ride. Music does indeed save lives. And trees.
As a Michigan transplant, I was anxiously awaiting the Carl Craig set all weekend and thankfully was not disappointed. The sheer level of influence, clout and experience Craig offers is off the charts. Within one track, the Detroit legend had the dancefloor booty-shaking to a set representative of his decades of experience. It’s hard not to be moved to the core by a man that has been relevant for three times as long as Desert Hearts has existed. The fact that they can co-exist and co-create should give testament to the festival’s reputation in a scene that has existed long before them. Respect is earned, not bought, and a vouch from Carl Craig is worth its weight in gold.
When his given name was an unsolvable phonetic obstacle, the much easier pronounceable Robag Wruhme was born and his unbridled success has proven that Germans do in fact do it better. Robag joins Andreas as one of the musical highlights of the weekend, a pair of Germans bringing good fortune like a tarot deck that’s read through rose-colored glasses. I think this was the point in the weekend where I lost control of my legs, subject to the long-term effects of good music.
Photos by Leonard Donjuan
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