less performance.We kicked it for a minute, and jumped to the main stage for The Black Keys. The Keys, typically a stellar live set, had a tough time translating their small-venue sound to the festival-sized stage. Afterwards, I was looking to see Kings of Leon, but she wasn’t feeling it. So, she beamed me a perfect smile, turned, and casually left. And maybe she made the right call – but I’d never let her know. It may be odd to fault a band for being polished, but for a group that prides themselves on their rock ‘n’ roll douchebaggery, why not get a little rowdier than the rehearsal? Still, ending their set with a “Sex on Fire” and “Use Somebody” double-header was sing-along heaven. After some text tag, the girl and I finally met up again near the main stage. She kept dropping hints about riding the Ferris Wheel, but it was getting too late – The Chemical Brothers were on in 5, and I wasn’t about to miss that big beat electronica fire.
the girl of my dreams on deck. Once I met up with her, the best looking girl at Coachella, we opted to start our day with some campsite tomfoolery. The Coachella campground is a wonder in itself. Expanded to include car camping a couple years back, it has become an incredibly popular option for those looking to experience the more Woodstock-esque experience. Festival organizers have even set up disco roller rinks, AM yoga sessions, and new-fangled swing sets galore to keep the sleepless entertained. A beer and a grill later, and into the festival to see Glasser’s electrocapella we went. We stuck around the Gobi Tent to watch Yelle’s high-energy jams as well. After, I asked if she’d be down to get folksy with Mumford and his children. “You would like Mumford and Sons,” she teased. Who doesn’t? She poked fun, but came with. A Little Lion Man later, and we were moving up in the mix to catch Animal Collective. With three interactive cubes hanging above the stage, the Collective put on a better light show than concert.
And thank goodness that I didn’t. Chemical Tom put on an out-of-this-world spectacle of a performance. Go YouTube it, because that’s all that you’re getting from me. Later, as the show ended, I cruised to some rowdy Ace Hotel after-party, and she ignored my texts all night. Whatever. Coachella, day two, is perfect. Not a cloud in the sky, a heaven-sent lineup, and
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It didn’t’ take us long to move over to Empire of the Sun, who was hosting the most talked about performance of the day. The band was adorned in Cirque du Soleil worthy costumes, as sensual sea creatures interpreted some sort of alien narrative on stage. We caught our boogie to an awesome “Walking on a Dream” performance before returning to home base – Sahara. Now, if I had tried to restrict my superhuman foxtrot before, it was time to let go. One-third of the Swedish House Mafia, Steve Angello, was simply killing it.