For decades, Coachella was the literal apex of music culture. It was where legends returned (yes, Beychella), where new icons emerged and where fashion trends were born. It mattered. For a while, if you weren’t paying attention to Coachella, you just weren’t paying attention at all.
Now? Not so much.
Coachella in 2025 has felt less like some cultural moment and more like an advertisement. The music is still there, but the soul? The energy? This idea that what was happening on the stage was the future of sound? It’s been long gone. 2025 is the year that we stop pretending otherwise.
Let’s be real for a sec: the music only comes secondary. Coachella’s most viral moments are rarely from the actual sets themselves; it’s the influencer drama or some of the most bizarre fashion moments we’ve seen in a hot minute. Even the lineups, though they’re impressive, just feel like they’re trying to do everything and nothing all at once. Nothing really stands out, because it’s all trying to appease everyone (and usually, all those people are in Wifi-sponsored lounges or the new face of Celcius).
The Coachella aesthetic used to center around self-expression. Now, it honestly just feels like some carousel of recycled Pinterest boards or influencers with $600 crochet outfits acting like they’re on some sort of vision quest. Coachella is no longer about standing out for your individuality – it’s about fitting into an algorithm.
Again, that’s fine. Wear what you want! But when the “aesthetic” becomes more important than the artistry, what are we really showing up for?
But, this isn’t just Coachella. It seems like every major festival has started to blur together; same artists, same influencer crowd, and same fashion. There’s always some sort of legacy act, some TikTok singers and a DJ that peaked in 2016. It’s time we start lifting up our smaller music festivals. Day In Day Out or Desert Daze aren’t just selling their tickets; they’re building communities without the corporate glare that Coachella has.
I know, I know. Cultural relevance is a fast-moving target. Coachella was once a place where the youth thrived; now, it feels like something desperately trying to keep up with Gen-Z, who’s already halfway out the door.
And look, Coachella isn’t bad. If you have the funds and a high SPF, go ahead! But I feel like we can collectively stop pretending that it’s where the pulse of culture is. That pulse is now scattered across TikTok deep dives, intimate shows and niche internet corners that Coachella can’t and shouldn’t try to recreate.
Coachella’s not cool anymore and honestly, that’s ok.
