Coachella, Day Three: The Cure Makes Me A Fan, My Bloody Valentine Makes Me Their Bitch, And Lykke Li Makes Me An Aspiring Stalker

Anarchy and the Avant Garde ruled on Sunday, and while it didn't match the innocent fun of the previous days, it might have been my favorite of the whole weekend. If nothing else, it was the most memorable of the three, especially considering that my ears haven't stopped ringing yet.

NO AGE

The day began with a small preview of the sonic madness to come, as No Age put on an early show in the Gobi tent. Non-Angelinos swarmed the tent early to see what all the fuss has been about, and the Downtown LA-bred twosome didn't disappoint. For a rock solid 45 minutes, they brought The Smell to the polo fields, right down to the ever-expanding mosh pit. The crowd seemed to "get it" as the show went on, or if nothing else, seemed amazed that two people could make so much noise, and the band left to a raucous ovation. There's a delicate balance to what these guys do, but they make it look so easy, and perhaps that's the band's most impressive trait. Anyone can make noise, but no other band can make it quite so charming.

LYKKE LI

I caught a portion of Canadian punk band Fucked Up's set, but by this point, the 100 + degree heat was starting to take its toll, even in a tent, and I had to conserve energy for Lykke Li (who was unfortunately scheduled during the hottest portion of the day), in the outdoor secondary stage. Thankfully, I had no problem walking right up to the front, and we weren't kept waiting for long before she took the stage. Once she did, it was clear that despite a generally mellow album, this girl likes it hard and fast in performance. She wasted no time running out and smashing the cymbols for opener "Dance, Dance, Dance", in a set where she used megaphones, drumsticks and a frickin' kazoo to add to the spectacle. The crowd was clearly beat down by the heat, but eventually danced as much as Li commanded. Even Robyn stopped by to check it out (though thankfully, she didn't get in on the action) as the set hurdled toward its conclusion. Oh yeah: she also looked really, really hot. So good for her. If you doubt me, check out the video below, and watch it ALL THE WAY THROUGH (or at least til the halfway point) to see some truly awesome moves:

YEAH YEAH YEAHS

We made our way towards front and center during the final leg of Peter Bjorn and John's set, which was actually far better than I would have anticipated. The band is notoriously hot & cold, as far as live performances go, but they were definitely on point Sunday, ending with a spectacular rendition of "Up Against The Wall", before exiting the stage. As soon as the bue rhinestoned-swirls and giant, inflatable eye were raised onto the stage, the crowd began to close in, in anticipation of the gloruous weirdness to come, and once Yeah Yeah Yeahs finally came out, they didn't dissapoint. The tracks from the new album sounded just as comfortable as the old ones onstage, and the band treated the insanely large main stage as if it was a tiny Brooklyn dive. All of the tracks sounded great as always, but "Skeletons" translated especially well in the environment: as the sun went down, and Karen O looked over the field, the tears that accompanied her voice seemed genuine. In a more bizarre twist for me, once Y Control ended the set, I began jumping up and down like a jackass and pointing at the stage (I may have been slightly drunk(, and I'll swear it was me Karen O saw as she sputtered out laughter and began to do the exact same gesture onstage. Review the tape, people. I was right down the center.....so check her eyeline. I'll devote a special sub-committee to this if need be. Further evidence that I made her crack up & dance: I was dressed in a boy scout's shirt. Don't judge me. It was appropriate for the harsh conditions:

MY BLOODY VALENTINE

And Hell was unleashed upon us. Okay, well maybe not immediately, as I began the set from the comfortable (yet still quite loud) distance of VIP, but as the set went on and I became sick of the scenesters talking and blocking my view, I left and crept closer to the action. My mistake. Turns out they weren't passing out earplugs for nothing that morning, as this was the loudest and most challenging performance I've ever experienced. I have to admit, I was only a casual fan of the band before the set began. I own Loveless, like any good music nerd should, but I've always been a bigger fan of their contemporaries (Jesus and Mary Chain, Catherine Wheel), and predecessors (No Age, Asobi Seksu). Well, after this performance, My Bloody Valentine officially owns my ass, and I now understand why they command such a passionate cult audience.

They certainly aren't for everyone, as many people ran by me, covering their ears, complaining about either the noise or the band's "shit stage presence" (apparently they didn't understand where the term "shoegaze" comes from). But for me, it was like being pulled into a trance, like a lobster slowly being boiled. Then, of course, the grand finale happened: the "Noise Holocaust", as many who were there have now dubbed it, began merely as an ear-splitting finale to the appropriately titled "You Made Me Realize", but then it kept going. And going. And going. At first my patience was tested, then as it got even louder, I just felt pain. But somehow by the end, musical Stockholm Syndrome had taken ahold of me, and I had to give them their due. Many of the people around me reacted to my claps with a cold stare of death, but like an act of nature, love or hate what happened, you had to respect it.

Apparently they end their shows like this on a regular basis, but I doubt any previous iteration can top delivering that noise to a field of 100,000 + people, trapped with nowhere to escape it. If you have the stamina, you can check out 5 min of the affair (though obviosuly 90% of the chaos gets muffled out by the camera's speakers) below. Just imagine it's THREE TIMES AS LONG, and you have a decent idea of what it was like to be there:

THE CURE

I wandered back towards the front of the crowd for The Cure, fairly certain that nothing could top the strangeness we'd just witnessed. I was wrong. Now I've always enjoyed The Cure a lot, but I'm not a hardcore fan, so 90% of what got played was completely new to me. Robert Smith had a mission Sunday night, and that was to entertain his fans first and foremost, and not pander to the band's radio identity, which polarized me at first.

After an hour of pretty but unfamiliar tunes, delivered with a strange ambivalence towards the crowd, I retreated to the fields and met up with friends who were more than ready to go home, having just gone through the ringer at Public Enemy. After more than a half hour of soaking things up from the back, however, I can't really explain what happened. I just had the urge to go back, and it was one of the best decisions I made all weekend. By the time I got back to my old section, it was completely vacated, with only paper plates left behind. I marched past the T-shaped space towards the front and threw myself right into the small crowd still gathered at the stage.

Most of the casual fans were going home, and it seemed the band had decided to play just for us. 3 and a half hours into the set (not an exaggeration), the band came on for its THIRD encore, apparently ordered to only play one more song (Coachella gets fined $1000 every minute the show goes past midnight, and at this point it was nearing 12:40), and of course just kept on going. At the beginning of "Boys Don't Cry", the gigantic speakers went dead, leaving us towards the front as the only folks who could hear a thing. Eventually, the plug got pulled altogether, and the whole thing turned into a sing-a-long, which continued for the band's NEXT song, "Jumping Someone Else's Train". The lights were then cut, when finally, halfway through an attempt to play "Grinding Halt" with virtually no resources, the band called it a night and soaked up the biggest ovation I've ever been a part of. Mr. Smith looked over the crowd, gave a diabolical smile, and soaked it all up. It was a surreal way to end an amazing weekend, and when all was said and done, I became a Cure fan for life. Who could have guessed? Click below to see Le Gran Finale.......by this point, only the crowd you see gathered round the stage and the AT&T sound feed could hear a thing. By the way......cut to just past the 4 minute mark, to see the wicked grin that sums up the whole weekend:

Favorite Moments from Sunday:

3. Yeah Yeah Yeahs Perform "Skeletons" Against The Setting Sun, And Create The Most Beautiful Crescendo of the Weekend:

2. Lykke Li Does the Least Likely Cover Ever, Followed By Her Most Danceable Track:

1. The Ultimate Sing-A-Long Once The Sound Gets Cut:

Stay Tuned For A Final Wrap-Up......