Coachella’s Bad Boys

McCartney, who headlined day one of the festival, gave the crowd its money’s worth, but may have cost the event’s organizers a pretty penny, according to the Los Angeles Times.

The Beatle performed for nearly three hours, delighting fans with a career-spanning set, and one that went well past the midnight curfew for music on the main stage imposed by the city of Indio. Once the clock strikes 12:01 a.m., the charge is $1,000 per minute, said Indio police spokesman Ben Guitron. He estimated that McCartney went “50-plus” minutes after the music curfew.

A $50,000 fine? That’s gotta smart a little.

Guitron told the Times police considered shutting McCartney down, but ultimately it was up to Goldenvoice, the festival’s promoter, to end his set.

Apparently being Paul McCartney carries a lot of weight. NME reported Goldenvoice had no problem cutting off The Cure on Sunday night.

At the end of the night, the plug was literally pulled on the band during “Boys Don’t Cry” and the field lights were turned up, but this didn’t stop Smith and company from soldiering on.

“They say we can only play one more song – are we f***,” Smith said when the band got the signal to wrap up. They kept right on playing and several of the remaining audience members rushed toward the stage to hear them play the final notes of their nearly three-hour set unplugged.

Still, the band managed to go 33 minutes beyond the limit, which means another $33,000 fine for Goldenvoice.

One performer who had no trouble sticking to the time limit for his set was Morrissey. As a matter of fact, he was so busy throwing a hissy fit he barely got through it.

Whitney Pastorek, blogging for Entertainment Weekly, writes:

The lyrics were visceral as ever, natch – “everybody look, see pain, turn away” and so forth – but the facial expressions didn’t jive. And then it just got WEIRD.

“I can smell burning flesh,” Morrissey said, but the crowd wasn’t quiet enough, so he repeated it. “I can smell burning flesh, and I hope to God it’s human.” Uh, come again? He made a series of gagging noises, sung a bit more. Then: “The smell of burning animals is making me sick,” he said gagging again. “I can’t bear it!” A friend sitting near me leaned over and snarked, “Yes Morrissey, they’re human burgers. It’s a baby-cue.” I snickered, and broke out the beef jerky.

And Pastorek has a message for the singer: You knew the job was dangerous when you took it.

But really. Dear Morrissey. I know you believe that meat is murder. (I think I read that somewhere.) But maybe don’t agree to come play the nice outdoor music festival where we eat things like sausage and hamburgers and chicken on a stick and pepperoni pizza and tri-tip and so forth if you don’t think you can let us eat those things in peace. Unless you’re really that hard up for money, and you needed this gig to keep your house. Did you need this gig to keep your house? I didn’t think so. Love, Whitney.

At least that’s settled.

Read the Los Angeles Times’ coverage of McCartney and The Cure’s curfew breaking here.

Read Whitney Pastorek’s complete Coachella blog for Entertainment Weekly here.