The day Danny DeVito gave me his beer.

In the dusty Coachella desert, anything can happen.

I remember the oppressive heat of the sun.

I remember the relentless clouds of dust floating overhead.

I remember eating slice after slice of insanely good, and incredibly salty, pizza.

To counter all of the things that pummel you in the Palm Springs desert, I desperately needed a cold drink.

A giant tub full of chilled beer had been plonked in the middle of the grass just a few metres from where I was standing.

That’s the kind of thing they have backstage at Coachella.

Did I mention I was backstage at Coachella?

Desert Dreams: The Coachella site in Palm Springs. (Photo: Coachella)

Ahead of me, first in line at the free beer tub, was someone else thrusting his own hands deep into the icy bliss.

I recognised his hat first.

Then his face.

And, finally, his voice.

He pulled out a can, cracked it open, turned and gave it to me.

“Here you go,” said Danny DeVito. “Enjoy that.”

In that moment I might have been the happiest I have ever been in my life.

It was 2010 and I’d been invited to attend Coachella for the very first time: to interview bands, to watch them perform, to follow the trends and see which acts might be heading down under over the following 12 months.

I suppose it was work, but you couldn’t really call that work.

(At the time, I’d been told Coachella was looking at coming to New Zealand, and had even chosen a site, but to my knowledge that rumour has only ever stayed a rumour.)

On day one, I saw Jay-Z, Them Crooked Vultures and LCD Soundsystem perform.

On day two, I saw Muse, Gossip, Hot Chip and MGMT.

On day three I saw De La Soul, Thom Yorke and Spoon, then stood side-of-stage to take in Miike Snow.

I saw Gil Scott Heron too, just a few months before he died.

Here’s the (admittedly brutally male-skewed) line-up…

I’ve been lucky enough to experience music festivals around the world, but Coachella felt like nothing else, a pop-up fever dream where anything can and does happen.

I walked art trails, danced at a dystopian stage full of water cannons that wasn’t on the official map, browsed vinyl in an on-site record store, and spotted celeb after celeb.

Every day I got there early and stayed late. Yet there was no way I could see and do every single thing on offer. At Coachella, by its very design, that is impossible.

Over that weekend, I saw what was truly possible for a music festival to achieve: complete and utter immersion.

Which brings me to why we’re here.

As much as I’d love to be there, I’m not in Palm Springs this weekend.

But I’m still going to enjoy this year’s Coachella festival anyway.

You can too.

From tomorrow until Monday, Coachella’s six stages all get livestreamed on YouTube.

For free.

All day.

All you need is a TV with an internet connection. That’s it. It’s yours.

It is mindboggling to me that they still do this without charging anyone for it. There’s no way this can last. This could be the last year.

So, we need make the most of it, while we can.

So, starting Saturday at 11am (NZ time), we’ll see if Lana Del Rey and Doja Cat deserve their headliner status, and whether Tyler the Creator will reform Odd Future.

We’ll know if Deftones, No Doubt, Blur and Sublime really are at the forefront of the 90s revival, or just running through the hits one last time.

We’ll know if Grimes, Ice Spice, Uzi, Lil Yachty, and Skream & Benga will be able to make up for the festival’s sluggish ticket sales and line-up criticism.

And we’ll see The Beths play on the biggest international platform yet.

Danny DeVito may not pass me a beer this time, but I’m still planning on enjoying Coachella as much as I can, from afar.

If you need me this weekend, I will be firmly attached to my couch.

Stream your favourite Coachella stage here.

Thanks for being here and supporting my lil newsletter. After the past week, I truly, deeply, sincerely mean that. If you know anyone who might enjoy being part of the Boiler Room community, please share this with them so they can join in on the fun…

The weekend sounding board.

• After two decades of over-doing it at music festivals, The Guardian’s music editor Laura Snapes attended a festival sober for the first time. She writes that she felt conflicted, finding positives and negatives in the experience. “I had a Bounty bar as a reward every night,” she says. It’s an interesting read; you can read it here.

• Speaking of music festivals, NME dives into the drama around Australia’s crumbling scene by talking to as many promoters as it can find. It predicts smaller, boutique, EDM-orientated festivals, and those driven by nostalgia, will be the ones to thrive. “We just don’t have two seasons in us to survive, to make a loss here and there and try something new,” says one. The full piece is here.

• We’ve barely felt winter’s first icy breath yet the big summer announcements are starting early. First out the gate is Fisher, the Gold Coast DJ who is coming to play two huge shows: Hagley Park on January 10 and Victoria Park on January 11. Promoters say he was “our most requested artist over recent years”. Of note: venues will be split into four zones. You can sign up for pre-sales here.

• The Ali Campbell-free version of UB40 has announced an October tour, taking in Christchurch on October 8 and Auckland on October 10. Eagle Eye Cherry is in support. (If you want to know why we have two different touring versions of UB40, this staggeringly sad 2016 BBC documentary explains it all.)

• Splendour in the Grass isn’t happening but we’re getting a sideshow anyway. American-Canadian dance-rap duo Baby Gravy (that’s Yung Gravy + bbno$) is coming for a Powerstation show on July 15. Presales begin today at midday.

• If you’re keen on listening to Pearl Jam’s new album Dark Matter early, in a theatre, in the dark, surrounded by super fans, you should head to Event Cinemas and book your tickets now. It’s happening on Tuesday, and only Tuesday. To warm up, there’s a great review of the album on NZ Herald, calling it, “The most ‘Pearl Jam’ that Pearl Jam has sounded in years.”

• My desk neighbour (hi, Dan!) robbed a bank. Not really, but that’s the premise of his excellent new video for his folk-rock project D.C. Maxwell. Stuff has a behind-the-scenes look at the making of ‘The Last Stand of the Killer’, shot in the Britomart train station and evoking the classic Crunchie train robbery ad in spirit and soul. He’d better not be carrying that gun the next time we go for coffee…

Got a tip, some advice, a piece of gossip, an anecdote or something to get off your chest? Contact me at iamchrisschulz@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you…