Coachella 2008 Festival: Notes on Saturday

All decked out in Wimbledon whites, replete with smears of face paint, Man Man’s tribal cling clang is perfect festival fare—a band at the very nexus of hipsters and hippies—and this late afternoon tent set was a-rockin’……..One tent and a whole continent over, Norway’s 120 Days could be none more European, getting away with a) acid wash denim, b) mirrored shades and c) singing non-words into the mic like “shhhhshhhawwwkaaa” through delay FX while somehow managing to not look ridiculous. Their thump-thump beats and squelchy oscillations conjure dark, smoky late night, probably illicit activities but it is really working here in then desert. In particular, hats off to their bassist, the lone traditional rock player who drives their groove—and the first of example of this day’s trend of dance/rock hybrid acts.…….DeVotchKa, however, shan’t be part of that trend. I only venture close enough to pick up the strain of a waltz of horns on the hot breeze before U-turning it back to attempt to squeeze into MGMT’s set who are slaying their tent’s kids. Their version of the dance/rock hybrid might be 75%/25% favoring rock, but the beat is all dance and dance the kids do, making this one of the more rapturous sets of the afternoon. It might be a touch presumptuous for them to introduce their hit “Time to Pretend” to the crowd saying, “This song is about you…”—Coincidentally, also a line I’m From Barcelona will use tomorrow, introducing one of their numbers—but their heart is in the right place and the message is sugarcoated enough so as to not be preachy…….Splitting for VIP cattle pen—speaking of which, here’s a thought for next year: can shirts on dudes be made mandatory in the so-called VIP section? The douche quotient back there was as high as the temperature. This would not apply, of course, to The Hoff, should he return to Coachella and desire to don his pecs and eat a burger off the ground—and hightailing right out of there, I catch the end of Cold War Kids somewhere from around deep right field. I never really noticed until now that their monotonous riffs and hunched over playing veer dangerously close to the dreaded jam band territory. “Hospital Walls” is still the exceptional tune but I think I can wait until the next LP before checking in with them again…….Stephen Malkmus, however, has the right kind of jams—jamz, if you will. The Jicks are a tight, powerful unit, even more so with ex-Sleater Kinney Janet behind the kit. Now with two kids at age 41 (thanks, Entertainment Weekly!) Malkmus is positively shredding on the axe these days. Let’s hope the rest of Pavement is keeping up with their playing chops for the inevitable reunion. His tunes were quirky before “quirky” was a pejorative and they thankfully still are, if a bit more jammy as mentioned above. Unsurprisingly, Malk, ever the wit, takes home the weekend’s best between-song banter award. He’s chatty as ever, possibly a bit drunk, referencing: the heat of Stockton in July compared to that of Indio in April, Scout Finch from To Kill A Mocking Bird, their lack of a big hit like “Black Hole Sun” accounting for them not being on the main stage, a playful jab at Jack Johnson when picking up his acoustic, and then finally leaving us with the order to “Make it count. You only get to go to, like, 30 of these things in your life”………Meanwhile Hot Chip’s tent is spilling over its capacity, baked dancing bodies clustered at the tent openings hoping to catch a view. Another of the days all-white clad act and another dance/rock hybrid (75%/25%, dance), the Londoners are basically conducting a full-on rave. Their singular sound is intense yet warm, hypnotic yet cerebral. It is dance music that doesn’t forgo actual songwriting. “Boy from School” and “Over and Over” in particular are late-set standouts………I only catch a glimpse of Rilo Kiley from afar. I can report that Jenny was wearing those high-waisted mom shorts like everyone else these days……..After taking in a bit of precisely executed Kraftwerk Powerpoint presentation on the main stage from the field, it is time for M.I.A. Easily the most riotous set of the day, she brought the goods. Blaring air raid sirens and gun shots between tracks—no doubt influenced by Public Enemy’s live show—attempted to convey the same sense of chaos and urgency that is on the records. I hope these kids get that she’s holding up reflection of the world as it is and is advocating revolution not mindless violence and anarchy. The occasion may have been ripe for a political comment or two but she opted out, perhaps for the best, leaving that to Sean Penn, focusing instead on rocking the party. Her set list might have been bit tighter and worked in a couple more tracks from the first record but forgetting these quibbles, the nutty crowd made this easily one of the more fun sets of the night……..Finally then, 10 years and 10 hours later, Portishead. Opening with the new album opener “Silence,” they sound great right out of the gate. They are perhaps the pinnacle of the myriad hybrid genre bands that mary sampled or electronic beats to rock instrumentation and/or symphonic arrangements. They are forceful and sharp but not unnecessarily loud, even on this big a stage. The breaks on the snare are cracking, guitars are ringing and Beth is on. Geoff worked the decks and occasionally the snare kit and some visceral MIDI drumming on the beautifully harsh “Machine Gun.” Their hour long set went by all too fast. (Rumor has it they had to cut down their set once Prince was added to the bill.) So they didn’t really have the space to dig too deep into their first 2 records, but “Roads” and “Cowboys,” personal favorites were highlights……What to say about Prince, whose legend precedes him, whose mere bedazzled apparition in the desert satisfied most expectations before a single note was struck on his custom Fender Telecaster. Beyond the set list—“1999,” “Controversy,” “Little Red Corvette,” “Purple Rain,” “Let’s Go Crazy” were all in the mix—the man puts on a show and the song choice feels almost incidental to the show. One highlight was his souled-up version of “Come Together” with an extra “War No More” refrain thrown in for a sing-along with his massive crowd. His slow jam take on “Creep” was nearly unidentifiable but ultimately rewarding and demonstrated an understanding of his place in the lineage of the Coachella festival.

[UNPROOFED DRAFT: Last updated 4/30/08 5:30 p.m.]