Whirlwind Weekend

Jun 1, 2008 12:00 PM, Wasim Muklashy

There's really no other way to do this than to be as frenetically overwhelming as the pace of the weekend itself. Following a 4.5-hour, 133-mile drive from Los Angeles to Indio, here we are: Coachella. 100 acts. Three days. Ready? Set? Run!

Friday, April 25: Aesop Rockin' the Mojave Tent and Rob Sonic bustin' with him! Oh damn…. Go! The Verve: together for the first time in 10 years. The lights go dim, emotions run high, and frontman Richard Ashcroft blows kisses to the crowd before a perfectly executed “Bittersweet Symphony.” Even Johnny Law's in the corner snapping phone pix. Next!

Two, four, six, hey…turbo-swing-jazz-hop away! With a three-piece horn section, Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings' energy keeps this good-time gospel funk party riveted! How do you bring this up a notch? You don't. Fatboy Slim does…. In the next tent, his animated silhouette fills the center of the screen like a fly on a TV set. He opens with “Praise You,” letting “like I should-d-d-d-d-d” ring out in a thumping 4/4 that dominated the rest of the evening.

Saturday. It's hot…it's MGMT. With a full band backing the band on its first ever festival slot, they pleased everyone in the midday triple-digit heat by first running through pretty much their entire album then running through the crowd and into the festival field.

Thump da ba thump! What's that over there? Seeing the famous Venice Beach turban-clad-guitarist-on-rollerblades dude grooving to Junkie XL's thunderous beats was worth it all…only in Cali.

Sprint between the ribbon teepee bench and the vertically twisted semitrucks toward the fire flowers, past the churros and into Kraftwerk's minimalist underbelly electro-reverbs, which somehow give an eerily comfortable, albeit sinister vibe. Fun, fun…but run, run…because every Coachella has its “moment,” and Portishead's entire set was this year's. As they rolled through emotional and riveting renditions of all their classics, including “Mysterons” and “Cowboys” and a couple new cuts, it's impossible not to pin these trip-hop revolutionaries' set as one of the top three of the past several years.

And, of course, there's the over-the-top novelty that is Prince. With Sheila E. by his side, he showers the adoring crowd with obligatory oldies “Purple Rain” and “Little Red Corvette.” But he still manages to sneak in Radiohead's “Creep.” Go figure.

Sunday! Already? Making my way through and out the other end of the water-spitting, stilted freaks and hula-hoop infested Do Lab village, My Morning Jacket is in the midst of its southern-tinged future-rock sundown set. But wait…that voice…calling out to heavens yet to be discovered! Sia's unbelievable and unmistakable vocal range, offset by her quirky mannerisms and flowery neon fairy lit stage. Awe-inspiring!

And Simian Mobile Disco? Over there, bobbing over keys and gadgets in their mad lab, concocting a blend of hard beats and layered aural insanity. Speaking of insanity…look up in the sky. It's a bird. It's a plane. Nah, just a flying pig. That can only mean one thing…pure nostalgic satisfaction. After the Obama-endorsing inflatable broke loose into the sky, Roger Waters returns for his second set…Dark Side of the Moon in its entirety. This aural overdose seduces a whole new generation into its beautifully chaotic psychedelic universe. Oh Coachella…'til next year.

Acceptable Use Policy blog comments powered by Disqus

Want to use this article? Click here for options!