Welcome to day two of our fifth annual Coachella diary. Without further ado:
SATURDAY
Regina Spektor
It’s easy to see why almost everyone has been buzzing about Regina Spektor. For some reason, her piano chords seem to magically linger in the air, creating a sense of a comforting breeze (which is nice because the actual breeze seems to be nonexistent). Her sweet-sounding voice charms the crowd as she sings melodramatic ballads about unrequited love and mysterious admirers.
““ Michelle Castillo
The New Pornographers
The New Pornographers, in support of Belle and Sebastian on a recent tour, put on a fantastic show; The New Pornographers, at Coachella, severely disappoint. Every band member, save the always-enthusiastic drummer, Fisher Rose, suffer from the laziest and most lackadaisical attitude yet observed. Guitarist Todd Fancey strums while sitting cross-legged on an amp, regularly missing notes. The Neko Case replacement, while a competent singer, sits on the stage eating ice cream between songs. Lead singer A.C. Newman thinks it’s a good idea to playfully mock the band Travis by playing the chorus of “Why Does It Always Rain on Me?” while they perform on an opposite stage. The absence of Dan Bejar and Neko Case, two invaluable members, underscores their lackluster performance.
““ Natalie Edwards
Andrew Bird
After Peter Bjorn and John whistled their way into my heart with “Young Folks,” Andrew Bird defended his whistling reputation with his opener, “Fiery Crash,” which features a whistling solo. Though backed by a band, Bird and all his novelties ““ such as his string-plucking violin-playing in “Skin Is, My” ““ confirm that the show is all about him and his “lovely sound.” Though the set is comprised of mainly songs from this year’s excellent “Armchair Apocrypha,” Bird’s performance of older track “Fake Palindromes” is the set’s highlight. Enunciating the verses louder and more slowly than on the recorded track, the song sounds more real than ever. When Bird sings, “Are we not having fun?” during his performance of “Heretics,” it is no surprise when the crowd responds with an overwhelming “yes.”
““ Mindy Poder
Arcade Fire
With no wind and no shade, it’s entirely rational to assume that experiencing the day’s peak of 100-plus degrees was akin to being placed in the middle of a burning fire. At 7:30 p.m., it has yet to cool down, but judging by the swarming crowd, the Coachella audience is very anxious to be placed in the middle of another red-hot presence ““ Arcade Fire. Defending their reputation for putting on phenomenal live shows, the entire band impresses by working together to create a sound too great to ignore. The band’s collective energy and ability to play different instruments ““ including the viola, French horn, accordion and harp ““ are only two reasons why this was one of Coachella’s best performances. “Neon Bible” songs, such as the moody “Black Mirror,” complement the darkening sky and sound more charged live than on the album. Nonetheless, songs from “Funeral” were simply meant to be played for dense groups. Swaying hands from side to side, the audience cathartically sang along to “Wake Up.” Though the song is no hippie anthem, the feelings “Wake Up” and other similarly relieving songs invoke in an audience of strangers who usually shoot dirty glances at being touched are reminiscent of 1960s Woodstock spirituality, love and togetherness.
““ Mindy Poder
Girl Talk
At this point, there isn’t really much else that can be said about Gregg Gillis (Girl Talk), the mastermind behind “Night Ripper,” the most fun record of 2006. As he took the stage in the Gobi Tent to an overflowing crowd and with a stage filled with dancing girls (including Paris Hilton, apparently), Gillis did two things: First he threw the biggest party in all of the festival, and second, he took the notion of the mash-up to even more ridiculous heights. Throwing the kitchen sink at the rollicking Gobi Tent, Gillis unleashes mash-ups whose highlights included Kansas’ “Carry On Wayward Son” over Justin Timberlake’s “SexyBack” and his now-signature mash-up of Notorious B.I.G.’s “Juicy” with Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer.” Further proof that Gillis threw the best party of the weekend? Early on, he proclaimed that his set would be the only one where audience members would have sex during the performance. Did it happen? I don’t know ““ I was too busy dancing my ass off.
““ Mark Humphrey
LCD Soundsystem
James Murphy is the male Cat Power. It may seem outrageous to compare a dance musician to an infamously shy folk singer, but seeing James Murphy’s skittish behavior during the first half of LCD Soundsystem’s set, I can’t help but think of Chan Marshall. Initially, Murphy seems ill at ease and uncomfortable, and early performances of “Daft Punk is Playing at My House” and “North American Scum,” two of LCD Soundsystem’s best-known songs, come off as rushed and unconfident, with Murphy at one point starting on a different count than his band and having to play catch up. Fortunately, once Murphy plays “Tribulations,” his set does a complete 180. Delivering throbbing dance beats as he screams like a wild man, Murphy closes his performance with “New York, I Love You,” which can only be described as extremely aggressive lounge music. It’s probably the last thing I expect to hear in the dance tent, but watching James Murphy build confidence to play such an off-kilter song over the course of 40 minutes was a sight to behold.
““ Mark Humphrey
SUNDAY
The Avett Brothers
Foot-stomping, scream-singing, straight-ahead bluegrass act the Avett Brothers renew faith in the power of American folk music. A trio of banjo, acoustic guitar and stand-up bass, the band adds urgency to its songs about love and drunkenness by stomping on bass drums and smacking hi-hats between strums. The music has melodic roots in Americana and hootenanny folk blues, while the singing could have outdone the most aggressive punk and metal competition. The Avett Brothers look young, but sing convincingly about the perils of matrimony, the mistake of romantic indecision, and the power of alcohol to disintegrate relationships.
““ Natalie Edwards
Junior Boys
I first saw Junior Boys three years ago at the Knitting Factory. At the time, I wasn’t terribly enthused and called them “a less-inspired Postal Service.” Talk about your misfires. So here I was, older and perhaps wiser, ready to take in a performance by a band who released one of my favorite albums of 2006. The Boys didn’t disappoint, playing hits off last year’s “So This Is Goodbye” such as “Double Shadow” and “In the Morning,” all of which delivered shifting beats, heavy bass, and breathy vocals that combined to form some of the most danceable beats of the day. As I embarrassed myself dancing to “The Equalizer,” I came to one conclusion: the Postal Service really sucks.
““ Mark Humphrey
Rodrigo y Gabriela
Rodrigo y Gabriela commanded attention with just two Spanish guitars, fusing flamenco and rock by beating them in lieu of drums. Though the songs were lyric-less, the tent was packed with concertgoers who knew when to scream “hey” and enthusiastically clapped to the beat. Originally from Mexico City, Rodrigo y Gabriela honed their sound while busking on the streets of Dublin, Ireland. After befriending Damien Rice, the band gained a following by playing covers of Led Zeppelin, Metallica and Pink Floyd without speaking a word of English. Fast-paced and whirling, nobody needed to know flamenco to dance.
““ Natalie Edwards
Kaiser Chiefs
A little pop British rock might have been perfect for the already upbeat Sunday Coachella. Unfortunately, although the Kaiser Chiefs had the songs in their arsenal, they couldn’t captivate the audience’s attention. The entire show was light and airy, and if it wasn’t for the radio singles “I Predict a Riot,” and “Ruby,” the set was rather unremarkable. The sound and timing were all on, but it seems that the Kaiser Chiefs should’ve just thrown on their album and called it a night.
““ Michelle Castillo
Lily Allen
Lily was a bad girl on Sunday night. She couldn’t even remember the lyrics to her own songs! “I’m not drunk, I swear!” Allen said. “But I did have about three spliffs earlier.” Not that I really noticed nor cared. Allen, one of MySpace’s biggest success stories (before it became a cesspool for people to post pyramid schemes in my comments), gained the undying love of just about every man (and woman) in the Mojave Tent during her 40-minute set. Allen also opined on such topics as men with small penises, reminding the ladies in the audience that no matter how much a man screws them over, they can always go tell everyone how big his member really is. It says something about Lily Allen’s charisma and the catchiness of her songs that I found myself cheering this statement. Then I realized what I was doing. Of course, all it took was the opening lines of “Smile” to knock me out of my funk. Damn you, Lily Allen.
““ Mark Humphrey
Rage Against the Machine
At 10:45 p.m., the equivalent of a nuclear explosion tore through the Empire Polo Fields. At precisely that moment, Rage Against the Machine returned from a seven-year slumber. As “Testify” thundered from the speakers, Rage proved to be something more than every other band that played ““ they were an event of epic proportions. Displaying just as much fire as they did years ago, the band’s anger was palpable at every turn. As they tore through “Guerrilla Radio,” “Calm Like a Bomb” and “Bulls on the Parade,” the crowd stirred into a frenzy, as we remembered what we loved about Rage in the first place ““ the cathartic fury that goes into every inch of the band’s music. As I thrashed and banged my head like never before, I was sure of one thing: This set was sure to end in a riot. And it almost happened during the expletive-laden final verse of “Killing in the Name,” as concert attendees thrashed against one another and some even took things to the next level and burned an American flag. Regardless of your political affiliation, two things were certain: The left has sorely lacked this sort of intense passion in Rage’s absence, and the only reason this set didn’t end in a riot was that everyone was tired from spending three days in the desert. But boy, was it worth it.
““ Mark Humphrey
E-mail Castillo at mcastillo@media.ucla.edu, Edwards at nedwards@media.ucla.edu, Poder at mpoder@media.ucla.edu, and Humphrey at mhumphrey@media.ucla.edu.