Desert Gold

Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.
INTERVIEW: MOMO

Palm Springs

MOMO is a human artist who makes beautiful things. We were lucky enough to convince him to make one of those beautiful things on the mural wall so everyone can share the love. MOMO’s been painting all week leading up to Desert Gold, but he finished yesterday and we sat down with him to chew the fat. 

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You claim to love her, inside and out, but the only time you call her beautiful is when it’s 3 in the morning and I’ve already turned you down.
—  girls tell each other everything, c.j.n.

Yucca Valley, California

Some people travel California desert Highway 62 by Greyhound Bus. Some people, on horseback. And some people, like us, get there in a rented burgundy Chrysler, Willie’s Roadhouse on the radio and cactus water rolling around the floorboards. 

The last time Gram Parsons, aka Flying Burrito Brother aka Byrdman Junior aka the reigning champ of Cosmic Americana and probably the spirit behind The Rolling Stones’ toe dip in honky-tonk, drove the 62 he was in a wooden box in a broken-windowed hearse, his body stolen an hour earlier from Los Angeles International Airport.  

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A lot of people think places like Detroit and Memphis are lost – that the radical openness and innocence and obsessiveness that flourished there can’t exist next to the internet, MP3s and – well, and crack. In 1960s Detroit, you could walk from the Brewster-Douglass Projects to Fortune and cut a record after school. Wendy Rene cruised in the door at Stax in 1964 and just sang a song that changed everything. In some ways, the internet and the digitization of music have allowed this same level access, but most of us will agree there’s some soul lost there… Why are real records important in this light? What likeness does holding a 45 bear to holding a real book? Why does it matter to touch and smell and hear something real?

Jack White is a crooner, a picker, an upholsterer, co-founder of Third Man Records and 2013’s Official Record Store Day Ambassador. In honor of the occasion, we’re hosting Third Man in Palm Springs at Ace Hotel & Swim Club during Desert Gold – they’re popping-up in the Clubhouse with the one and only currently functioning record shop in Palm Springs. It matters a lot to us. Third Man is really good at this shit. We can’t explain the ineffable importance of vinyl, of paper and ink, and of real people instead of Twitter handles. But come hang out with us today and we can just not explain it together. Bring your record bag.