Coachella Ends With Shocking Video Targeting Government

The Strokes turned their Coachella set into a CIA tribunal, projecting decades of alleged U.S. government crimes onto screens behind them while thousands cheered—or booed—depending on which side of the political divide they stood.

Story Snapshot

The Strokes closed their April 18, 2026 Coachella Weekend 2 performance with a video montage accusing the CIA of regime changes spanning 1953 to 1976, including Iran, Guatemala, Congo, Chile, and Bolivia.
The visuals referenced a disputed 1999 civil trial alleging U.S. government involvement in Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, contradicted by a 2000 Department of Justice review that found no credible evidence.
The montage displayed recent U.S. military strikes in Iran and Israeli attacks in Gaza, claiming over 30 universities destroyed in Iran and the last university in Gaza demolished.
Frontman Julian Casablancas wore a shirt reading “Crime” over an Amazon logo, and the band captioned the video “This message is approved by The Strokes” while promoting their June 26, 2026 album “Reality Awaits.”
The performance marked only the second-ever live rendition of their 2016 song “Oblivius,” igniting viral debate across social media with reactions split between praise for boldness and criticism of anti-American messaging.

When Festival Stages Become Political Soapboxes

Coachella has hosted plenty of provocative moments, but The Strokes took it to another level on April 18. As their set reached its climax, screens behind the band lit up with a barrage of historical accusations against the CIA and U.S. government. The video montage named names—Mohammad Mosaddegh, Jacobo Árbenz, Patrice Lumumba, Salvador Allende, Juan José Torres—leaders whose overthrows or deaths in the 1950s through 1970s have been tied to CIA operations, some declassified, others still debated. The band also featured imagery of slavery, Black Lives Matter protests, and the 1981 plane crashes of Ecuadorian President Jaime Roldós and Panamanian leader Omar Torrijos, deaths some conspiracy theorists attribute to U.S. intervention without concrete proof.

The Martin Luther King Jr. Claim That Doesn’t Hold Water

One of the montage’s most incendiary assertions was its reference to a 1999 civil trial, King v. Jowers, where a jury found the U.S. government complicit in Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination. The Strokes presented this as fact, but the Department of Justice reviewed the case in 2000 and concluded the evidence was unreliable, contradicting the jury’s verdict. This isn’t a minor detail. Promoting a debunked conspiracy theory on one of the world’s biggest stages doesn’t just distort history—it fuels distrust in institutions that, while imperfect, operate under the rule of law. The band’s willingness to embrace fringe narratives over verified facts raises questions about whether their message serves truth or just their brand of activism.

Gaza, Iran, and the Politics of Spectacle

The montage didn’t stop at Cold War-era interventions. It pivoted to current events, showing U.S. military strikes in Iran and Israeli attacks in Gaza, with text claiming over 30 universities destroyed in Iran and the last university in Gaza demolished. These visuals tied the band’s historical grievances to ongoing Middle East conflicts, framing the U.S. and Israel as aggressors. Casablancas’ “Crime” shirt layered over an Amazon logo added another jab, though its exact target—corporate complicity, government surveillance, or something else—remained vague. The performance promoted their upcoming album “Reality Awaits,” suggesting the theatrics weren’t purely altruistic but also a calculated marketing move. Whether fans see it as courage or opportunism depends largely on their politics.

The Fallout and the Festival’s Future

Social media erupted after clips of the performance went viral. Supporters hailed The Strokes for using their platform to challenge U.S. foreign policy, while critics slammed the display as anti-American propaganda. Some speculated the band wouldn’t be invited back to Coachella, though organizers Goldenvoice have yet to comment. The Strokes themselves offered no statement beyond the video’s caption, leaving the montage to speak for itself. Julian Casablancas had already made political remarks during Coachella Weekend 1, signaling this wasn’t a spontaneous act but part of a broader pattern. The performance marked the first time “Oblivius” had been played live since 2016, adding rarity to the spectacle and ensuring maximum attention.

The band’s strategy worked—at least in terms of visibility. The montage dominated headlines, gave their album free promotion, and reinforced their identity as politically engaged artists. But at what cost? By conflating verified historical events with unproven conspiracies and presenting them without nuance, The Strokes blurred the line between activism and agitprop. Festivals have always been spaces for expression, but when that expression relies on half-truths and inflammatory claims, it stops being art and starts being manipulation. The real question isn’t whether The Strokes had the right to air their grievances—they did. It’s whether audiences will demand the same rigor from their rock stars as they do from their journalists.