Austinist Spring Road Trip: Coachella, Day One

After a quick dinner, we rushed over to catch the beginning of Rilo Kiley's set - we can't gush enough about lead singer Jenny Lewis' seductively sweet voice and charming onstage persona. This was cut short as Wilco was performing at the same time on the main stage. With the Palm Springs sun slowly setting over the mountains, Jeff Tweedy and Co. spoke to our souls and made the Coachella experience about so much more than the music. They finished off with a ten-minute version of "Spiders (Kidsmoke)", which was near perfection. Surf-rock idols Weezer came back with a vengeance, putting the audience into a rabid frenzy with their classic hits including "Buddy Holly", "Hash Pipe", and "Say it Ain't So." The songs off their new album Make Believe, while somewhat cheesily named have the geniune Weezer sound that we've missed so dearly.

We caught the tail-end of the Secret Machines show, which worked out perfectly as they closed with the two best songs off of Now Here is Nowhere, the title track and "First Wave Intact". Back when we saw them at the Parish Room last month, we were right at the front of the stage - close enough to grab lead singer Brandon Curtis' leather-wrapped buttocks. Here in the crowded Coachella tents we were relegated to nearly the very back, so we had to suffice with someone else's. All good.

Bloc Party absolutely killed, undoubtedly the best performance of the night. Guitarist Russell Lissack was just a blur of hair, and drummer Harry Potter Matt Tong was either heavily doped up or is one of the most talented drummers out there, or probably both. "Banquet", "This Modern Love" and "Helicopter" had the entire crowd of sweaty, half-naked hipsters dancing their asses off. It was hot and hot.

The last act of the night was also the biggest, heralding the triumphant return of Coldplay. Chris Martin and his buddies don't look like they've changed since we last followed them down the California coast in 2003, and we were just slightly choked up to hear Parachutes and A Rush of Blood to the Head again. They managed to sneak in several songs from the highly anticipated third album, X&Y, which we haven't really decided how we feel about. Still, it's awesome to have the boys back.

The fun really began after all the music was over - thanks to our buddies at LAist we got into the private afterparty thrown by Urb magazine, spinning provided by none other than Interpol's Carlos D. Apart from being the coolest indie rock bassist and having the cojones to sport a bitchin gun holster on stage, Carlos turned out to be a damn good DJ. We spent a good half hour just staring at him as he mixed in everything from Joy Division (how appropriate) to The Cure to obscure hip-hop we've never heard of. After a half dozen trips to the bar, we may or may not have stumbled up to Carlos, thrown our arms around his shoulder and shouted "YOU ARE A GOD!" into his ear.

We shared a round and chatted with dynamic duo Le and Thomas of South Congress' FactoryPeople, always the scenesters.

New York phenoms The Bravery showed up later in the evening, clad entirely in black. Their wardrobes probably aren't terribly diverse, we imagine. We can't wait to catch their show later today.

Before calling it a night, we crashed the Spin Magazine party where we think Jane's Addiction frontman Perry Ferrell was spinning. At this point the night had lost coherence, and the event staff (ever eager to display their spectacular incompetence) finally shut everything down. And so, close to 4am we finally stumbled back to the hotel.