While most conversations about festivals or concerts revolve around Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, and Burning Man, I’m here to report on an under-the-radar but radically cooler happening. No screaming teens, mud baths, or fear of trampling—mostly because the crowd is far too old for any of that.
Power Trip is a heavy-metal festival that took place in October on the same Empire Polo Club grounds in Indio, California, where Coachella is held. This year, its blistering lineup included AC/DC, Guns N’ Roses, and Metallica.
While Angus Young (the last remaining original member of AC/DC) is 68, the audience skews at least a little bit younger. After all, ticket prices are not for the TikTok set; they range from $600 to $4,000.
The 80,000 guests were old enough to appreciate order, and every element of the experience was civilized. Even if you’re like me and can’t imagine stomaching that much humanity, I promise that any agoraphobia will be somehow quelled by the sheer power of the festival’s organization. In advance of the event, every Power Trip visitor received a bracelet that was scanned three different times on the way into the grounds. No lines, and no bitching—a feat in and of itself.
Instead of bartering for drinks, there was a whiskey tasting. And there was no need to suffer in the heat, because the bars were not only enclosed but air-conditioned. Food options were straight out of Tribeca, and they included nose-to-tail meat selections, poke bowls, and even sushi flown in from God knows where.
The entire Coachella Valley was packed with metalheads, some of whom paid thousands of dollars a night for rooms at the Ritz-Carlton and La Quinta. Others glamped in luxury Redwood RV’s, which can run $200,000 and beyond.
The face-melting, three-hour sets were studio-level, thanks to a tower of stacked Marshall speakers and a sound system that filled the crowd with so much energy, it felt like a blood transfusion. In an insanely violent world, tens of thousands of fans singing together was the therapy I didn’t know I needed.
The merchandise was stylish, the people were cool, and, most importantly, everyone was on good behavior: despite the neck tattoos, motorcycles, and head-banging, there were only 20 arrests for intoxication and drug possession.
Funnily enough, when I departed, a friend told me to be careful, fearing that the mostly male crowd would be aggressive. But I found the opposite to be true. Countless studies have shown that metal fans are happier and experience fewer mental-health struggles. To me, it’s common sense—gutsy music exorcises any demons.
Just think about the dénouement in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. The serial killer wasn’t blaring metal; he was playing Enya. Way creepier!
Jill Kargman is the author of Sprinkle Glitter on My Grave and Sometimes I Feel Like a Nut. She also created and starred in the Peacock series Odd Mom Out
