WINEHOUSE MADHOUSE, SCARLETT FEVER, AND OTHER FRIDAY HIGHLIGHTS

Amy Winehouse was inexplicably playing the intimate Gobi Tent despite the fact that she's got a top 15 album right now, so it was unsurprisingly a Winehouse madhouse, leaving me with two less-than-ideal options. Option 1: Stand where I could actually hear Amy's smoky, Motown-y vocals, but get only an obstructed and rather unexciting view of the backs of the 50 gazillion seemingly 6-foot-5 people in front of me. Option 2: Stand where I could see Amy in all her damaged, rehab-resistant glory, but barely hear her. I went with option 2, and I have to say, Amy looked like a STAR. Probably the only star who can rock a ratty B52's-castoff beehive hairpiece, armfuls of Tommy Lee-esque tattoos, and a husband-beater tank-top. Speaking of husbands, did ya know that Amy just got engaged? Ooh, gawd help the man who tries to make an honest woman out of Amy. I just hope there's no open bar at her wedding reception.

By the way, unlike most Coachella rumors (no, the Police did NOT play this year), the one about the Jesus & Mary Chain being joined by Scarlett Johansson turned out to be true. It was somewhat anti-climactic: She walked out wordlessly, in a Brady Bunch '60s shift dress and John Taylor fedora that covered much of her gorgeous face, then J&MC played "Just Like Honey," which was subtly--and I do mean subtly--enhanced by about 10 or 15 seconds of Scarlett's backup cooing. I have to say, though, from what I could make of it, she sounded pretty damn good. You know, only Scarlett could star in a Justin Timberlake video one month and then get onstage at an indie-rock festival with a vintage '80s goth band the next. It makes me think she'll actually be able to pull off her upcoming solo album, a collection of Tom Waits covers...(more Friday)

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y...ROCK!

The title of this blog entry references the Bay City Rollers, by the way. I'm trying to start a new Coachella reunion rumor after all that frustratingly unfounded gossip about the Police playing this year. Bay City Rollers in 2008!

Forgive me. I'm still semi-delirious after a 13-hour Friday of (what was mostly) fun in the sun. Yes, while most scenesters were lazing by pools or attempting to snag swag at the nearby Hugo Boss and DKNY parties, I was incredibly already at Coachella, ready to rawk. Sure, I was exhausted, but arriving at the crack of noon certainly had its perks--like actually making it on time to the relatively uncrowded early-afternoon sets by dreamy psych-folk rockers Fields (fantastic!) and cheeky Brit-punks the Cribs (ditto!). I certainly couldn't think of a better way to kick off day 2 of Coachella. I don't even like Hugo Boss clothes, anyway.

After the Cribs I stuck around in the Mojave Tent for the Fratellis--who, like the aforementioned Bay City Rollers, are Scottish. Anyway, it was around this time that the tent's temperature jumped from a moderately uncomfortable 95 degrees to a downright hallucination-inducing heat level more typical of Native American sweatlodges. Guess I wasn't the only person who wanted to see the raucous rock trio--that's the power of a ubiquitous iPod ad for ya... (more Saturday)

SUNDAY BLEARY SUNDAY

After catching the tail end of skateboard hip-hopper Lupe Fiasco's set, I found a nice shady spot on the grass and eased my way into day 3 with the sweet sounds of mild-mannered Englishmen the Feeling. Now, some people may think the Feeling are a little too twee, a little too nicey-nice, with their Spandau Ballet suits and soft-rock influences. But anyone who thinks that is just jaded. Just because these guys aren't getting arrested or splashed across the tabloids every three minutes a la your Amy Winehouses or your Pete Dohertys, and just because their future hit "I Love It When You Call" bears a startling resemblance to Huey Lewis's "Power Of Love" (seriously), doesn't mean they're not cool. In fact, their Coachella cover of the perennial '80s classic "Video Killed The Radio Star" was one of the hippest things I saw at Coachella. So there!

After that I did a 180 (literally--I had to turn around and walk clear over to the other side of the festival) for dance-rock Londoners the Klaxons. Lemme tell you, it was well worth the walk. The nanosecond the buzzy Brits hit the stage, I forgot all about my bruised 'n' abused feet and started dancing like one of those "nu-ravers" I've been reading so much about in the U.K. press. (Oh, if only I'd remembered to pack my glowsticks!) I predict they're going to be one of the bands hipsters will be babbling about long after their Coachella sunburns and hangovers have faded away... (more Sunday)

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