A week before this year’s Coachella, a post on Twitter/X “exposed” a digital marketing agency for the tactics it uses to drive virality for its clients. The agency boosts engagement for artists via fake fan accounts on TikTok and Twitter. Some fans felt tricked or betrayed when they learned that beloved indie acts like Geese benefited from these services. Realistically, the agency’s methods are no morally different from the previous decades of music industry marketing and promotion. Attention is the single most powerful commodity in the music business. It’s the industry’s job to make you pay attention to their artists, any way they can. 

Perhaps that’s why, more than any other US festival, Coachella still matters. Unlike the suite of Live Nation-run festivals across America, Coachella captures that precious resource of cultural attention on a wider scale. And it does so through in-person live performances, instead of social media engagement farming. From the livestream to the live setting, everyone’s eyes are on Coachella. It's also what makes this festival worth the dust, the wind, the blown over canopies, and traffic-laden drives from LAX, and even an occasional canceled set. 2026 was no different.

Here are my key takeaways from the weekend.

The Festival Main Character Was Justin Bieber.

Everywhere you looked, there they were: the Beliebers. Even after his Saturday night set, fans still decked out in purple and wore tanks with rhinestone lettering saying “Future Ms. Bieber.” The last time I witnessed this much on-the-ground excitement for a headliner was Frank Ocean’s disappointing return to the stage in 2023.

Across the campground, tapestries and flags printed with Biebs’ signature 2010 hair-swoop blew in the desert wind. Everywhere you turned, someone was in his $140 chartreuse hoodie, proudly declaring “It’s Not Clocking To You That I’m Standing On Business.” Outside Indio, resale tickets soared to unprecedented highs, driven by fans who’d ultimately have to settle for a livestream (little did we know, so would the in-person audience).

The artists got in on the fun, too: Geese briefly covered “Baby” in the middle of an extended “2122” jam. Dijon, who co-wrote and produced a handful of SWAG cuts, drew a massive crowd of Beliebers at the Outdoor Theatre. The Strokes’ Julian Casablancas, who played right before Bieber, had plenty to say about the headliner. Casablancas called opening for Bieber a “lifelong dream” and admitted that the band is “happy to lube you up for him.” 

Live Events Are Temporary. Livestreams Are Forever.

Coachella livestreams are not new. The festival began its livestream partnership with YouTube in 2011, back when CNET called them webcasts. It was only recently, particularly since the pandemic, that performers shifted their focus away from the audience in front of them and towards the much larger audience watching from home. 

Sabrina Carpenter’s Friday night set felt particularly geared for the stream. Her elaborate stage included a miniature recording studio, a glitzy Los Angeles backdrop, and a parody of the Hollywood sign spelling “S-A-B-R-I-N-A-W-O-O-D” (I chuckled). Though the production's Old Hollywood flair was visually stunning, her performance felt distant and one-note. The crowd's energy took a dip during her Man’s Best Friend deep-cuts. On the livestream, you’d never see all the people pouring from Sabrina’s crowd to snag a good spot at Disclosure. 

Bieber brought this trend to its breaking point with a meta, circuitous performance. After running through over a dozen vibed-out, woozy SWAG and SWAG II cuts, he pulled out a laptop and watched clips of himself from earlier in his career. Fans watching the YouTube livestream commented in requests for videos to watch alongside Bieber. It was the first time I’ve ever seen an artist directly address the elephant in the festival grounds: the online audience watching from outside Indio. 

I couldn’t help but think of Frank Ocean, who also tried to obfuscate himself during his headlining set with a massive LED screen covering the audience’s view. Frank, however, didn’t allow a livestream of his performance. The mystery of his strange and uneven live set was for the in-person audience only. At least Bieber had the courtesy of performing a generous handful of his music first. 

Sure, you could argue Bieber’s music video night was a cheeky reclamation of past hits from the internet’s first YouTube star. More realistically, he probably didn’t want to sing “Beauty and a Beat” anymore (can you blame him?). Ultimately, the single best moment of his set was “Stay,” a jolt of synth-pop amidst the grey, amorphous vibe-music of SWAG. It was the moment in the set when he was the most focused on the people in front of him instead of the people behind the screen. 

But IRL Still Reigns Supreme.

The weekend’s best sets came from artists laser-focused on giving their in-person audience their money’s worth. FKA twigs packed the whole of her Body High tour into an hour-long set on Sunday night. She barely acknowledged the crowd until curtain call, more focused on endless feats of athleticism (voguing, pole dancing, pole dancing while holding a sword, et al). Honey Balenciaga continues to make the rounds among the pop girls, and she burst from an equipment case to vogue to a “Sweet Dreams” remix. 

Turnstile has perfected the festival mosh pit to a science. Frontman Brendan Yates — who looked quite Gallagher-esque in his zipped-up windbreaker — only needs to nod and lift his arms for the crowd to erupt into a free-for-all. Their set was sequenced perfectly, gliding between synth-y interludes and hardcore primed for the mainstage. Yates’s father appeared in the set’s video introduction, following allegations that ex-Turnstile guitarist Brady Ebert attacked him. After the final song, fans displayed on screen giggled and hugged each other, basking in the post-mosh glow. 

Perhaps no performance felt as charged as Slayyyter’s, who proved to be the pop star of the weekend. The crowd quickly matched her intensity as she snarled across her set like the lead of a metal band. “Slayyyter” is only a few letters away from Slayer after all. Backed by a live band instead of a track, Slayyyyter's performance of the WOR$T GIRL tracks felt particularly meaty. She delivered “CRANK” like a call-to-arms and growled across the filthy-good “YES GODDD.” It was a thrill. 

Rock and Roll, Baby!

Every year, the Coachella lineup draws the same criticisms: Where is the rock music? Why is Black Flag (now essentially a cover band) billed so low? Where are the rock headliners? And, as per usual, those folks continue to sound absolutely ridiculous.

Rock — of all forms, levels of popularity, and eras — thrived in the desert this year. Iggy Pop, David Byrne, Devo, and a surprise set from Jack White pleased the old-heads, while buzzy contemporary bands like Geese, Turnstile, and Wet Leg drew packed crowds. Even The Strokes — who, in my experience, are a hit-or-miss live band — had a pep in their step. 

Of course, there is some irony in seeing a performance that’s particularly vulnerable, independent, or anti-consumerist at Coachella, which I’ve taken to calling the Center of Commerce. For Karly Hartzman’s Wednesday, it doesn’t matter what kind of room they play: the brutality and catharsis of “Bull Believer” still feels like a gut punch. The Asheville band made the most of a too-short Sonora set, blasting through the grimier sides of their discography with the promise it’ll be “bangers only.”

The same goes for Samia. Her vocals were easily a highlight of the weekend, and “Pool” pierced through the desert air like a splash of cold water. 

“Rock is dead” crowd – if you really want to complain, please take it to Lollapalooza. Rap on the other hand? Young Thug can’t carry the whole weekend!

Lightning Round —

• I don’t know about “killing the sound system,” but Jane Remover’s Leroy mixes certainly melted some faces (including mine). 
• Sabrina Carpenter is just always in rooms. 
• Artists I saw who said something about ICE: CMAT, Wednesday, David Byrne. 
• Young Thug to the Karol G fans camping out for her headlining set: “If you’re not listening to the artist, why are you here?” 
• In all my years at Coachella, I’ve never seen an artist be too big for her stage quite like PinkPantheress at the Mojave tent. 
• Samia prefaced her set by saying she has laryngitis, and then she proceeded to deliver some of the most pristine, beautiful vocals of the weekend. Not to be missed, Weekend 2ers! 
• David Byrne was 20 minutes late and did not care about soundbleed from Bieber’s mainstage nearby; punk is alive and well here at Coachella. 
• SOPHIE on Addison Rae’s pre-show playlist. 
• Nine Inch Noize: this is what Coachella is all about. A ‘90s alt legend turned Oscar-winning composer turned techno-wiz puts on a sinister performance of old classics reconstructed for the Sahara stage’s bassier leanings. It was the place to debut a new show and leave everyone completely stunned. Trent Reznor was hypnotic, getting chased by zombies and singing “Closer.” 
• Ninajirachi brought out Porter Robinson. “Oh, I’m sure,” I said aloud (the song’s a banger). 
• Joyce Manor’s Barry Johnson: “I was very nervous for this. I wasn’t sure how it would go.” Was great on my end, Barry!