Like any festival, except more so, Coachella has three things that suck: getting in, getting out and being there. Lord, the torments we endure for music. But this weekend, the music was more than enough, gathering most of the planet’s best fit-and-working bands in the desert heat. Coachella ‘07 was the place to hear amazing new bands I never heard of (The Feeling), bands I always kinda liked but not enough to bother seeing live (Arcade Fire), bands I previously wrote off but was totally wrong about (Klaxons). A quick highlight loop: (more…)

“Good evening,” Zack de la Rocha said on Sunday night, looking out at the 50,000 or so people gathered in front of Coachella’s main stage. “We are Rage Against the Machine, from Los Angeles, California.” With that, guitarist Tom Morello — wearing a baseball band emblazoned with the word “Unite” — kicked into the winding riff of “Testify,” beginning Rage’s first concert in seven years. De La Rocha rapped with so much force that his microphone distorted as he enunciated every word of the lyrics, which were written about the first Gulf War but sounded eerily current: “Baghdad is burning… The war is right outside your door!”

There were signs that this reunion may be fragile: the band didn’t display much affection for each other on stage, with Morello and de la Rocha never quite making eye contact. (more…)

For this year’s Coachella, we’ve dispatched our very own indie rock star reporter, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear.

April 29th

2:04pm: Having a trailer makes life much easier. I can leave things there, there is booze. We are right next to the Klaxons trailer and CSS which is nice since they are the bands I’ve been hanging out with the most. Lots of British bands with tude around today. Kaiser Chiefs, The Kooks, The Feeling. Everyone has such outfits. As I said earlier today “I’m letting myself go” with my cut off jean shorts and a white t-shirts. I think people think I’m working here. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone came up and asked me to go get them more beer. Hah. Anyhoo — things are running so smoothly. Mika played while I ate lunch. He’s definitely gay. Still having a great time though and everyone I’ve actually met has been incredibly friendly. The cute boys from Boston who decorated the trailers made us amazing stuff for the room. A little toy piano with our name painted on it, a great papier-mache Mexican boxer dude hanging from the ceiling. Our sound guy (who’s seen it all with TV on the Radio) said this is one of the best festivals there is. Well organized, friendly people. Chill. I must agree. Resounding thumbs up. Gonna head over to our stage real soon. The temperature today is much more bearable today as well. A nice last day to an amazing festival.

5:09 p.m. Just got back from our set. It was really fun/funny. I had a total vocal crack in the bridge of “Knife” where I sounded like a teenager going through puberty. Oh well too much Coachella in my system! My own fault I suppose, haha. Crowd was super nice and I was shocked how many people came out to such an early show. Going to see CSS soon, can’t wait!

10:49 p.m. It feels so incredibly late. Tonight was so much fun. I got to see a lot of people I wanted to if ever so briefly. Have been overwhelmed by all the friendly people we’ve met who came to the show and have been around all weekend. Post show we could all just relax–had an amazing time at the CSS show where both Peaches and Paris Hilton were shimmying around. They were hilarious in the best way (CSS that is). Saw Klaxons for a few tracks but then went to see Jose Gonzalez, which was criminally under-attended. Then continued back to Klaxons for a track or two and headed back to dinner. Dinner was declicious.Finally, catering! No more $9 pizza! The small perks of performing.

Biggest mistake of the evening: Bothering to trek to see Lily Allen. Watching her was like watching a mall rat. She made reggae-lite music and complained about guys that have small penises. Her “security” was way too extreme, as if Madonna was in the area. Terrible show. We left after about 4 minutes.

After that we went to see Air who it seems never showed up. Well they were a half hour late by the time we threw our hands up to the air (yuk yuk) and left. Earlier in the evening a funny thing happened to the ladies and man of CSS. Out of nowhere with an authoritative strut Courtney Love appeared in the artist area and barged into the CSS trailer. At that point I assume she’s a fan and I continue on my merry way to get some water and meet up with the band. Little did I know she was just was looking for shelter and picked the closest trailer. Apparently she came in, said “I need this trailer” and asked “Who are you?” CSS proceeded to explain. She looked bewildered and left soon after.

At a pool party, must leave now!
Don’t Miss Our Constant Coachella Coverage! Get the scoop from Brian Hiatt, Rob Sheffield and indie-rock star correspondent, Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear.

The last time I saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers play a big festival was way back at Woodstock ’99, when their closing set led right into an hours-long bout of rioting, looting and arson by fans who were sick of paying $4 for water (and possibly also ashamed of themselves for liking Limp Bizkit so much). By comparison, the conclusion of Saturday night’s Coachella headlining set by the Chili Peppers was anticlimactic: Flea simply wished everyone “peace and love” following sing-a-long versions of “Under the Bridge” (“yeah, yeah, FUCK yeah!” sang the frat dude next to me) and “By the Way.”

The Peppers’ set was solid but unspectacular, weighed down in the middle by a few too many mid-tempo tunes from Stadium Arcadium –- these guys have headlined so many festivals that this performance lacked a sense of occasion. (The biggest surprise was Anthony Kiedis’ luxuriant mustache –- a far sturdier model than the fuzzy thing sported by Interpol’s Carlos D the night before.) Kiedis’ always-shaky pitch wandered off a few times, but John Frusciante’s falsetto harmonies never wavered. And there were some amazing moments, including Flea’s jaw-droppingly complex bass line on a brief cover of Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” and Frusciante’s Hendrixian lead-guitar freak-outs throughout, which are more flamboyant than ever.

Right before the Chili Peppers, the Arcade Fire gave a main-stage performance that felt like a coronation, drawing a sprawling crowd of tens of thousands: The big stage and fearsomely loud sound system and were just right for their grandiose songs, which finally swelled to the U2-and-Springsteen proportions they always had in them. They didn’t shy from the stadium-rock thing: During an epic “Rebellion (Lies),” frontman Win Butler walked off stage and into the audience, singing in their faces, Bono-style. (more…)

For this year’s Coachella, we’ve dispatched our very own indie rock star reporter, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear.

April 29th

3:43 am: Well tonight was fun. Really fun. Something about the evening at Coachella felt more alive yet at the same time apocalyptic. People were a bit rowdier, wilder…..insane. Glow sticks were alive and kicking. It’s hard to even keep track of it all. I guess where I left off, Kings of Leon were ending their set and the mighty Arcade Fire took stage to thousands of fans. Unfortunately I was quite far away from the stage so I wasn’t able to fully capture it all aurally but pretty much everyone around me stood captivated. I had seen them before and they’ve only gotten better. It still strikes me as so strange/wonderful that a band like them has broken so mainstream.

Halfway through we decided to catch an early spot for Girl Talk and caught the end of Coco Rosie’s minstrel-esque rapping. The turnout was predictably low considering Arcade Fire’s popularity and a draw. There was a beatboxer and all the other Coco fixin’s but soon after we arrived they finished up and the few people that were there left, giving us the opportunity to push forward for prime Girl Talk viewing. Suddenly throngs of teens inundated us and there was a mob scene awaiting Girl Talk’s arrival. After a few minutes of light projections, GT came on to much applause and put on a wild show with 30 girls dancing on stage (including Paris Hilton), confetti and Girl Talk balloons. (more…)

You can tell it’s still early at the Coachella Festival, because nobody smells bad yet. The crowd is well-scrubbed, the grass is still soft, the water bottles only cost two bucks and everybody’s smiling. Where’s the filth? The festival crusties? The rock & roll warriors passed out in pools of puke? Tomorrow! Shockingly, it’s a little hot out there–a hundred degrees or so, which makes it all the more amazing Amy Winehouse’s hair didn’t melt, here in the town of Merv Griffin Boulevard, Monty Hall Avenue and Frank Sinatra Drive. Here’s a quick rundown of Coachella’s highlights so far. Best performance: The Jesus and Mary Chain. As soon as they began with “Never Understand,” right after sundown, it was instant lift-off in the crowd, most of whom weren’t born when it came out. They’ve got the drummer from Ride, likely the best drummer they’ve ever played with, bashing goth-punk classics like “Sidewalking” and “Head On.” Even the new song (“All Things Must Pass”) sends the main-stage fans into spasms. Scarlett Johansson came out to sing on “Just Like Honey.” The Reid brothers were too cool to bother introducing her, but she looked like candy in her paisley top, denim miniskirt and fedora. “Are you having fun?” Jim Reid sneered. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” Cold bastards.

Best dressed: Of Montreal, defying the heat in their new wave angel-wing frippery to play excellent new songs like “Bunny Ain’t No Kind of Rider.”

Best hair: Amy Winehouse, whose ratted beehive held up heroically.

Most polarizing: Bjork. Her wiggy end-of-the-night set split people into love-it or hate-it camps, the most talked-about gig so far. It sounded like a duck in a blender, but maybe it was just where I was standing.

Strangest fashion statement: Carlos D of Interpol, debuting his new mustache, goatee, and string tie. He’s like Colonel Sanders at Transylvania Fried Chicken. Interpol kicked ass in front of a fanatical main-stage crowd. The new songs were hit-or-miss, with one good one (“The Heimlich Maneuver”) and one that sounds like lukewarm Coldplay (they didn’t mention the title, but it goes something like “This desperate grope to pull black from the grave / But does the soul await?” Okaaaay!) But everybody rocked out to “Evil” and “Take You On A Cruise.”

Public nudity: none yet.

Drugs: none before sundown; after that, discreet yet pervasive pot smoke, especially in the Nineties techno tent where Felix Da Housecat and Faithless reign.

Bathrooms: don’t ask. (more…)

For this year’s Coachella, we’ve dispatched our very own indie rock star reporter, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear.

April 28

11:36 a.m. Just had breakfast again at the Parker and Anthony Kiedis sat at the table next to us with some tall girl in a sun dress. The whole restaurant was pretending not to notice him yet intensely staring. Myself included. Got a call from Luiza Za from CSS, turns out their house is 2 blocks away from ours so I’m going over there to have lunch with them before I meet up with the rest of my band at 3 and head to day two of the festival.

6:22pm: Day two is even more hectic and wild than yesterday. I’m taking this time during Kings of Leon (ugh) to do my first day two post. Had a chance to see tail end of Hot Chip and the beginning of Peter, Bjorn and John, both of whom were amazing. Joe from Hot Chip and his burly beard are so wonderfully lovely. Walked by the end of Travis and heard the one song of theirs I know “Why Does It Always Rain On Me?” which I remember hearing a lot in the late Nineties. It sounded nice and peaceful in the afternoon sun. Perry Farrell is EVERYWHERE. It’s like we’re at Lollapalooza or something. The boys from Rapture are floating around and Warp kids !!! are as cute as ever (I gotta hussle over there soon). Right as I type this one of the Blonde Redhead twins walked by. He looks surly and irritated. Fab from the Strokes is here again and looks cute (obviously). I’m almost overloaded by the relentlessness of this festival which seems more to me about people-watching than music. Haven’t met a single person who’s sat through a whole set. Myself included. As I was walking away from Peter, Bjorn and John’s set I saw a dapper Andrew Bird saunter by. Sadly I’ll be missing his set, but I’m sure it will be stellar as I only hear good things. There goes Perry Farrell again — still got a very playmate-esque blonde on his arm. Back and forth they go. LAST BUT DEFINITELY NOT LEAST we saw a non-music celeb — B rate to the max,but still — the ever wasted and bleached Tara Reid. She was, of course, waiting for a drink at a cocktail stand. (more…)

For this year’s Coachella, we’ve dispatched our very own indie rock star reporter, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear.

April 27

6:49 p.m. Received text from Josh lead singer of Tapes n Tapes saying they are five hours deep in their mission to get out of LA. I truly pity them right now.

6:54 p.m. Arctic Monkeys are playing. They sound good and tight. The crowd in the main field has expanded tremendously now that the sun is going down a bit. Went to the artist area during their set and saw the Of Montreal boys and Tilly–who were wonderfully matched together in neighboring trailers because of both bands’ flashy attire. It was the most glitter and sparkle I’ve seen in years. Rufus was sitting nearby wearing some sort of striped Monk-type garb. I honestly can’t explain it. He was smoking a cigarette.

I was stopped by two boys who had seen us in Boston and were in charge of decorating the artist trailers. They told us they were going to decorate ours extra special come Sunday. Woo! They also reported that the tent where Amy Winehouse played was insanely full and she was pretty good. We are about to head over to Peaches. I haven’t seen her since she toured her Fuck The Pain Away album. I’m ready for her again. The flies are descending upon the VIP section which isn’t very VIP since there are approximately 3,000 people in it right now. Trash is accumulating but credit must go to the festival for all the trash bins. The field is actually pretty immaculate. I was shocked! Saw Win and Regine from Arcade Fire walk by. (more…)

When it’s nearly midnight at a festival that started nine hours earlier in 100-degree heat, some artists might think twice about hitting the exhausted crowd with a hushed ballad sung entirely in Icelandic. But on Friday night at Coachella, Bjork didn’t hesitate: As she moved into the second half of her set, she sang the lullaby-like “Vökuró” backed only by a soft harpsichord. Half the audience seemed to sit down in the grass and wait for it to be over, only to leap to their feet when she and her band – led by an insanely speedy percussionist who was apparently playing the electronic beats live from a sample-triggering digital drum kit – jumped into an apocalyptic version of “Army of Me.”

Bjork’s band relied heavily on a large, all-female brass section (who doubled as backing singers), as well as a synth player who was manipulating sound using a wild touchscreen interface that looked like the tractor-beam controls on the Death Star. And in her encore, the angry, frenetic “Declare Independence” from her new album Volta, Bjork howled, “make your own flag/ raise your flag” while the horn players complied by frantically waving red and green flags. She began the set by coming out in a puffy, Strawberry Shortcake-like headdress, singing her new, Timbaland-produced single “Earth Invaders.” The rest was a mix of Volta tracks and old tunes rearranged with lush, orchestral horns. “It’s good to be here in the desert with you,” said Bjork, who was wearing a dress that looked like it was made out of multi-colored strands of straw or yarn, and red and green facepaint that matched her flags.

Also on the main stage, Jesus and Mary Chain played a greatest-hits set (plus one solid new song) that was impressively tight for a band that has hardly played together since their 1999 break-up. Weirdly, a straw-hat-wearing Scarlett Johannson came out and sang harmonies on “Just Like Honey,” the haunting tune that played over the credits of Lost in Translation. Frontman Jim Reid never introduced or identified her, and some crowd members seemed either oblivious to the movie star’s presence or just way too indie to acknowledge it. (more…)

5:05pm: It’s almost 6pm here, and I’ve had a much more epic journey than everanticipated. Silversun Pickups just ended and were heard saying, “Isn’t it strange how we are on the main stage?” I have to agree with them on that one… Originally we had intended to be over where Amy Winehouse was but what I didn’t know about Coachella was just how huge the space is. It took us practically all afternoon to do a lap and become familiarized. I was semi-crushed that traffic had prevented us from seeing the Noisettes and Tokyo Police Club, both of whom I’ve heard great things about, but RS.com’s trusty photographer Nick managed to chat with them and get a snap shot while I was scoping out Jarvis Cocker and his bizarrely layered, wintery outfit. Fashion comes first I suppose, but don’t ask me. I’m just hanging around in flip flops, ill-fitting pink shorts and a sweaty t-shirt.

So as we made our way over to catch Of Montreal we were treated to a Perry Farrell side project called Satellite Party. As mentioned earlier, the crowd seemed disinterested and peeved as he plowed through some famous Jane’s Addiction track with an entirely new band. We arrived to Of Montreal land much earlier than anticipated and didn’t feel like clawing our way to the front so we headed on over to the other tents and caught one song of Gillian Welch and Tilly and the Wall. Each tent was like an entire community that fit each artist, a testament to how massive this festival is. Folks in the Tilly crowd were bopping their heads to the tap dancing and twee good times, and Gillian Welch’s audience swayed and swooned.
(more…)

For this year’s Coachella, we’ve dispatched our very own indie rock star reporter, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear.

April 27

9:05 a.m.: I’m up way too early. I can’t wait for Bjork tonight!!! First breakfast and a lot of water. Why do I drink Red Bull? If I can find a Kombucha I will down that quickly and feel refreshed. To Rolling Stone readers: Kombucha is amazing. Especially first thing in the morning instead of coffee. No I don’t wear patchouli.

12:56 p.m.: The countdown til bands begin is nearing and I can finally stop writing about looking for food and making t-shirts and get to the music. I’m hoping to fill every possible time slot with band action but we’ll see how easy it is for me to navigate the terrain. I’ve never been and I’m imagining mild chaos, but I could be totally mistaken. All I know is I really want to see Bjork and hot mess Amy Winehouse, who is more of a spectacle than a musical force (IMO)…that said, she could totally blow my mind and I’ll owe her a bottle of Jack. Ate breakfast at a super-designy Parker hotel, all done up by Jonathan Adler, now notably starring on the worst “Top” reality show to hit Bravo, Top Design. Just took a dip in the pool, ate some melon and am minutes from driving back to Indio to enter the madness. More to come all night…yay!

2:28pm: It seems there is a major theme to this journey…traffic. I’m sitting here mere blocks from the festival surrounded by various types waiting to get there: We have the girls with blown-out hair and the Mars Volta bumper sticker, the Jeep with neon spraypaint that reads “Coachella! Fuck Yeah! Boom boom!” and the pasty hipsters windows tightly closed (smart move at 104 degrees). It’s definitely a scene and I’m not even the parking lot yet.

4:04pm: Jarvis Cocker is walking around like it’s winter. I wanted to mist him he looked so hot in the artist area.

4:08pm: But Peaches is definitely dressed for the weather.

4:39pm: It’s so hard to get around, even backstage. Missed Noisettes and Tokyo Police Club because of traffic. Hustling to Of Montreal. Audience not amused by Perry Ferrell’s new band Satellite something or other.

Don’t Miss Our Constant Coachella Coverage! Get the scoop from Brian Hiatt, Rob Sheffield and indie-rock star correspondent, Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear.

For this year’s Coachella, we’ve dispatched our very own indie rock star reporter, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear.

April 26th

4:46 p.m.: I’m stuck in the most hellish traffic ever. I’ve been informed we are passing through San Bernardino (supposedly the “Newark” of Southern California). I’m feeling satiated from our Baja Fresh stop, yet exhausted from the flight and now being stuck in endless, stand-still gridlock. There’s a girl with a nose job driving a hummer next to us. Her sun-roof is open but her windows are up. We speculate she’s being even more wasteful by blasting the A/C. I remember why I live in New York: No need to drive. I also begin to understand this concept of “road rage.”

7:22 p.m.: We arrive at our house! It’s amazing! It has a pool and is decked out all mod, Palm Springs, aging gay-man style. Appropriately kitschy, yet comfortable. We are greeted with blended margaritas. *SOOTHING* There are people who rented the house with us trickling in one by one and Gregori, our newest friend, suggests we hit up the Filter party. One catch — it’s in Indio, not Palm Springs, where we are staying. That’s easy right? He’s got GPS, so we roll. (more…)

For this year’s Coachella, we’ve dispatched our very own indie rock star reporter, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear. Below is his first of many reports.

THE AIRPORT

8:34 a.m.: I’m definitely feeling the effects of a few too many drinks from last night’s DNTEL record release party at Union Pool. I’m starving but will likely only get a bag of blue taro chips on our jet blue flight. Maybe I’ll watch HGTV and pass out in row 18A. I need to be ready for my schedule which, get this. I made with the “coachooser.” Festivals are clever, never let anyone tell you differently.

10:29 a.m.: Jetblue is so insanely quick and easy, and they have free net. I know I know, people were annoyed in February when some serious shit went down, but it’s so smooth I’ve had time to eat, browse the newstands, surf the web, etc. Did you know Katie is Divorcing Tom? Star says so. Also picked up the latest copy of RS (happy 40th) and enjoyed reading up on FEIST with whom we’ll be touring with in June. I wish she was playing Coachella, but I’ll have plenty of chances to see her perform. There’s some serious Coachella pilgrimage action going on around these parts — I’m making some assumptions naturally, but I don’t usually fly with a plane full of cute 20 somethings…hmmmm. I think I’ll eat some trail mix and take a Xanax.

Don’t Miss Our Constant Coachella Coverage! Get the scoop from Brian Hiatt, Rob Sheffield and indie-rock star correspondent, Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear

As per usual, this year’s Coachella promises be the BEST ONE EVER. Which is why in addition to offering you straight dirt from the trenches courtesy of our own Brian Hiatt and a knee-slapping fanboy wrap-up from the one-and-only Rob Sheffield, we’ll be getting up-to-the-minute dispatches from our very own indie rock star correspondent, Ed Droste of Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear. Ed will be keeping us in the loop from the ground with constant, real-time missives about the festival experience, including stuff from backstage, on stage — Grizzly Bear’s performing at 3:30 on Sunday in the Gobi tent, y’all! — and all the fly afterparties. He’s got an all access pass, which means you’ll get all the goss. Don’t miss it.

Coachella, that blissful musical Bacchanal in the desert of California, has made a habit of nabbing headliners that speak to a specific generation’s unrequited, nostalgia-fueled desires. Who else would know we were itching to see the Pixies make a comeback (as they did to rave reviews at Coachella in 2004) or glimpse the triumphant return of Gang of Four (2005)? Who else sensed our silent longing to see Tool (2006) play live again, or watch Iggy crawl around onstage with the Stooges (2003)? This year is no different: after a seven-year absence from the spotlight, the Zack De La Rocha-led agit-prop band Rage Against the Machine (who played Coachella’s inaugural weekend in 1999) will headline this year’s expanded three-day fest.

Let’s pretend that you had the power to make the rock & roll dreams of music nerds everywhere come true: Who would you tap to headline the next installment of Coachella? To keep things focused, the band or artist you choose needs to have experienced its heyday between 1977 and 1994, and must have either broken up or not toured extensively in at least four years. Here are some of our picks:

• Minor Threat
• EPMD
• B-52’s
• The Smiths
• The Jam