Coachella Day Three: Nipples and Ass

If you want to know the truth, I spent a lot of the final day at Coachella staring at people’s asses. As the Style Editor at Noisey, every single music gathering is an opportunity to do a style round up—here’s one I did for Coachella 2013. Actually last year I also made a whole video about what people were wearing at festivals in 2013. Being blonde was a very big #trend. But I digress. If I’m honest everyone starts to look the same, yet this year there was one trend that could not be ignored: everywhere my eye darted it was met with underbutt. Underbutt is the new sideboob. So yeah, seeing bands was important, but the hunt to capture underbutt was on. It was distracting. Noisey’s underbutt special will be coming tomorrow. Obviously my trusty photographer Jason MacDonald will deliver the high def goods, but here’s a few I snapped myself to tide you over.

You’re welcome.

As for the music, I’m going to break it down into headings because that’s the level my brain is working at right now.

MOST BUMMED I MISSED IT: CHANCE THE RAPPER
One of my friends who saw this performance said it felt like his break out moment. It was packed, packed, packed right to the back. Oh yeah and in a year when everyone seemed to have a super special surprise guest, Bieber made a guest appearance. In a bucket hat.

BEST FAMILY VIBES: BLOOD ORANGE
Thank you Dev Hynes. He understands that dancing in the hot hot sun is hard work. Sometimes it’s good to just keep the grooves laidback. Slap on the wrist to the sound guy for keeping Dev’s vocals so low in the mix until three quarters through. Notoriously, Dev doesn’t really dig playing live—too many variables, too much can go wrong. It wasn’t a flawless set by any means, but I loved the band’s familial energy: the fact that Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek hopped up to perform “Chamakay,” the steadying presence of Dev’s lady love Samantha Urbani on backing vocals, and Kindness lurking around in a royal blue felt hat, shaking a tambourine and hitting the occasional cymbal. Bonus points added for the shirtless keyboardist’s cornrows, the extensive use of sax, and the way Dev wrings solos from his guitar. No nipples on show just yet…

BEST EFFORT BY ONE HALF OF A DUO: ALUNAGEORGE
Where is George? We miss you Geooooorge! I don’t know where George is! George?! Aluna is left to fend for herself and I can see her nipples. God I’m such a perv. She has a tough job. Her drummer looks like he’s falling asleep, but she ramps it up and as the sun is sinking she makes this set memorable by working the entire stage with her sassy, sugar-coated, LDN-steeped R&B. As per usual she whipped out a cover of "This Is How We Do It," but it’s AG’s originals that sound fresh and clean—“You Know You Like It” and set closer “Your Drums, Your Love”—in particular. See you for Disclosure’s “White Noise,” Aluna.

Hello actress Jena Malone! She plays music as part of the duo The Shoe! (Shot performing at the Embassy Samsung House)

PLEASE DIE: CALVIN HARRIS
Do you guys remember when Calvin Harris was releasing cheesy synth-pop like “Acceptable in the 80s”? That was kinda fun. I liked “The Girls” too. The music he makes now makes me want to take an air horn and shove it up his ass. Also: WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO “WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG” BY THE KILLERS? Oh. The Killers must have given you permission to shit all over their classic with synths and Fruit Loops beats. SHAME ON YOU. According to Forbes Calvin made $46 million last year, which makes him the highest paid DJ in the world. I’m officially depressed. Pass me another corndog.

ARTIST I FORGOT I LOVED LOADS: BECK
Straight outta the gates: “Devil’s Haircut” and “Loser.” I was worried Beck was going to spend an hour crying into his acoustic guitar—not that I haven’t enjoyed crying into my breakfast bagel listening to Morning Phase—but Beck knows the score, he knows when to turn it out for a festival, which makes moments like “Blue Moon” all the more magical. I think the last time I saw Beck perform somewhere that wasn’t a festival was for his Midnite Vultures tour back in 99. He lowered a circular, silk-sheet covered bed from the arena ceiling, got up on it and started singing “Debra.” Those days are gone and yet he can still reach into his back catalogue and deliver hits from his King Slacker-era with ageless aplomb. He’s a dapper fucker too. Love you B.

BEST DRESSED: YUKIMI OF LITTLE DRAGON
Not to relegate Little Dragon’s set to a footnote: they’re tighter than a teen’s backside (sorry, ass on the brain), but Yukimi’s dress was just so cool. She looks like a warrior wearing an upside down flower made of metal mesh. She looks like she lives on a dark, dark star, far, far away. The Swedish band played a clutch of new songs too—only a couple more weeks till their fourth album, Nabuma Rubberband, drops. At last.

BEST ACT TO FALL ASLEEP TO: LANA DEL REY
Was Lana on ‘ludes? That was shit was dozy. At least her live vocals have improved, I guess, but why is her new-ish stuff so sloooow? I couldn’t even be bothered to stick around for “Off To The Races.” I think I’m allergic to excessive PDA. When people around me started swaying with their partners and deep-throating each other’s tongues to “Born to Die” I took it as my cue to leave.

Mmm. Pizza. BEST FANS: FLOSSTRADAMUS VS DISCLOSURE
It’s a tie. Watching people really lose their shit to music is sometimes as much fun as losing it myself.

MOST DISAPPOINTING: JHENÉ AIKO
I was all ready to be ABOUT THIS SET, but I’m sorry to say I found it kinda weak. Jhené came off sweet, but more often than not her voice live and unadorned sounded flat and uninspiring. Also she appeared to be dressed in an old tablecloth and some wonky doilies. Yes, Childish Gambino and Drake appeared from nowhere, but I was still left feeling kinda meh.

Here’s Drake onstage with Jhené at Coachella being cute.

BAND THAT NAILED THE COFFIN CLOSED ON (PUNK) ROCK AT COACHELLA: THE TOY DOLLS
I’d never heard of them but I walked past the tent where they were playing to 50 people at 8.30pm. Judging from the noise they were making they’re a grizzled oi-oi British punk band. Whoever booked them gets a big fat fail. Poor dudes, it’s just not your crowd.

TRY NOT TO BE OVER IT: ARCADE FIRE ARE ACTUALLY GREAT
I’m not sure when it was that I lost interest in Arcade Fire. Possibly after the second record, which means my love affair with them didn’t last very long. It’s not like they stopped writing great songs, it’s not like they stopped pushing themselves. I guess I’m a fickle bitch and they just didn’t seem exciting anymore. Or maybe it’s just that they started to take on this weird happy-clappy culty vibe that didn’t sit well with me. Still! Their performance at this year’s Coachella made me reassess my stance. It was also jogged my memory. In 2005 I was lucky enough to catch their debut London show at a college venue. As with all the best music, their performance inspired a physical reaction: my eyes felt a little moist, my nipples got hard, and the back of my thighs felt a little goosebumpy. This is what happens when I really like something; I can’t help it. (Also I was standing next to Bjork so maybe that had something to do with it.) If you push aside your snooty cynicism, there’s something tug-in-the-gut affecting about Arcade Fire’s unashamedly emotional strain of epic indie rock. Also Debbie Harry’s appearance during “Heart of Glass”/“Sprawl II”—bravo!

So that’s it. My body hates me right now. My glands are the size of gobstoppers. I definitely pulled a muscle in both my ass and my neck from dancing to Disclosure. I feel icky. I’m done. I’m out.

Portrait of the author earlier today.

Except I’m not. There’s Coachella weekend II to contend with which means there's more Coachella/Brochella/Carpoolchella/Twatchella coverage coming to you this week and tomorrow—tomorrow’s all about #UNDERBUTT.

Kim is looking for a volunteer to step on her back. It hurts. If you’re into that kind of thing, contact her on Twitter - @theKTB

Related:
Coachella Day One: SPRING BREAK BITCHES!

Coachella Day Two: Desert Storm Grilled Cheese

The Bros of Coachella

The Basic Bitches' Guide to Coachella