Following up on their surprisingly non-violent stage reunion at this year's Coachella fest, the Jesus and Mary Chain are preparing their first album of new material in a decade; Billboard reports that constantly squabbling brothers Jim (pictured) and William Reid have written scads of new songs and will whittle them down to a dozen for a CD due in the first half of 2008. I wish I were more excited, but Whitney's lukewarm review of their Coachella performance (even a Scarlett Johansson guest-vocal proved anticlimactic) and the sheer passage of time — the band's heyday was really 10-20 years ago, wasn't it? — make me worry that this'll be just another lackluster, zombie-fied nostalgia act milking the last few drops of goodwill from aging hipsters with disposable incomes. Am I being overly pessimistic, PopWatchers? Are you eager to hear the Reids crank up the fuzzbox again, or have you moved on?
So, PopWatchers, did you figure out who the mysterious man-with-dog was from Tuesday's Coachella gallery? No, it wasn't DMX. But good guess.
In fact, the unidentified rocker (pictured, left) was none other than Interpol bassist Carlos D, who made fashion headlines at the festival with his mustache-and-bolo-tie makeover. With his trademark pseudo-Goth chic (pictured, right), Carlos has long been a fixture of New York's downtown punk revival scene. But it seems the nascent vamp in Carlos was scared off by the desert sun, leading him to shed his androgynous hipster veneer and reemerge as what can only be described as a metrosexual urban cowboy... with a 'stache-soulpatch combo that's a little more Billy Bob Thornton than Burt Reynolds.
Lead singer Paul Banks was also looking particularly svelte as Interpol unveiled some new music for the Coachella crowds, but Carlos' face (or, more accurately, what was growing on his face) remained a primary topic of Internet chatter for pop fashionistas. No word on what his Italian greyhound Gaius made of the performance, but most likely he was busy watching his back for any celeb dogs named Brutus.
What do you think, PopWatchers? Should Mr. D keep his new style, or should he be questioned by actual Interpol officers for crimes against fashion? Will bolo ties be the next accessory du jour for the indie crowd? Is Gaius the new Tinkerbell? Help us out, because we're a little confused...
Every rock fan knows that the biggest dilemma at a show is having a good sightline. If you are 6'4", then you are a genetic marvel, and I hate you because you are always standing in front of me as I start to pogo for a glimpse of my favorite performer.
Not anymore! For I scored tickets to the real front row at Coachella: the photography pit! As EW's Music Photo Editor I have pored over thousands of shots of bands in live poses, but I'd never investigated the perils and pleasures of this coveted spot. And so I scored a proper wristband (blue Hawaiian pattern), a credential (easy, because I assigned myself) and a camera (Nikon D80, courtesy the manufacturer).
Here's what I learned:
• Know your camera. Most of the pit crew had elephant guns with tripod sticks, and I had my beginner's digital SLR. But it had a sweet automatic feature that took care of things I should know (F-stop, exposure). I fired myself for that lack of knowledge, and the camera did all the work.
• You get to shoot only the first three songs by each band. Make them count. Most photographers shoot the lead singer, but as an editor you want to see the whole stage. I also like seeing things like the Kaiser Chiefs guitarist's sweet Adidas sneakers and stripey socks, which I shot. And I got to watch James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem tighten the bolts on some drums. Shot that too.
• You could die. Hazards include angry photographers. ("DON'T HIT ME," screamed an ox from a tiny fanzine as I tapped him on the shoulder to indicate the security dude wanted us to exit stage right.) Also, be careful in front of the Arcade Fire (pictured, left) — they throw stuff. Death by ninja star/spinning cymbal is not my preferred way to shuffle off this mortal coil.
a bullet in your head... a bullet in your head... A Bullet In Your Head... A BULLET IN YOUR F---ING HEAAAAAAAAAAAD!!
Oh! Excuse me, PopWatchers—I was just reminiscing about some of Rage Against the Machine’s performance tonight, or what will heretofore be known as THE GREATEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE. Um, or at least that’s how it seems right now. I’m sure I’ll remember other wonderful things that have happened to me over the last 31-some-odd years, but for the time being, it is awfully hard to envision that anything could beat standing on a picnic table, surrounded by like-minded strangers, and watching one of my favorite bands of all time reunite after seven years, screaming things like “THE NINA! THE PINTA! THE SANTA! MARIA!” for all I’m worth.
For what it’s worth, I can’t believe everything lived up to my lifetime of expectations. It’s been a little over two hours since the last notes of “Killing in the Name” rang out through the night sky, a little over two hours since I let loose the loudest profanity I have ever unleashed — you know which one I’m talking about—but I haven’t yet quite come to terms with the fact that the show, and this weekend, are actually over.
After the jump, my recap of the final night of Coachella 2007, in which I will try and probably fail to talk about something other than Rage Against the Machine. Come along, won’t you? I shall try and keep the shouting to a minimum...
Ah, Sunday, how I feared one day you’d come. Your presence means Coachella is nearly over, and that this magical desert Brigadoon will once again disappear into the mist for another long, lonely year. It also means that the big Rage Against the Machine show is tonight, and I have not yet decided whether I am going to remain studiously aloof and stand outside that fray, or if I’m going to let my inner 15 year old enjoy the slamming, fist-pumping pit action I never got in my teens (for reasons I'll explain later). I have somewhere in the neighborhood of 4 hours to come up with a decision. If this is the last you hear of me, you’ll know what I went with.
Right now, though, it’s time to settle down on the cool grass and listen to some Willie Nelson-- happy birthday, sir!-- while I reflect upon my afternoon so far. After the jump, Kaiser Chiefs, Grizzly Bear, Explosions in the Sky, and why a Rodrigo y Gabriela (pictured) show should be mandatory for anyone who’s ever taken a guitar lesson.
As part of a brief but ongoing series, EW Photo Editor Michele Romero checks in with the following tease:
When my editors decided to ship me out to Coachella to rock the music fest photography assembly line for my job as a Photo Editor here at Edubs, I thought, me no like 60,000 people surrounding me in a dusty field in 1000 degree heat and that too tall guy always in front of me at a show. But I love photography and music and so I decided to take advantage of my job and check out what two of my photographers know well, the pit in front of the stage is the real front row. (Yes, in this episode of Survivor: Coachella you develop cockroach-like coping mechanisms to see your favorite bands.)
Of course, my photographers also know that you need to remember a synch cord to upload your pictures (see you soon, Best Buy!) and in reality I would've fired me if I had hired me. But you'll see and read about my digital adventures in front of some of my favorite bands as soon as I figure out how to upload pictures on this sweet D80 camera on loan from Nikon.
Look for her awesome shots-- as well as observations about our fellow festival-goers that only the extraordinary Roms could make-- early next week. I've seen some of the shots. You LCD Soundsystem fans will want to check back in.
I had a phenomenal day at Coachella on Saturday, PopWatchers, one that’s going to be near impossible to top, today or at any time in the future. From the wake-up pop of Fountains of Wayne to the come-down buzz of the Rapture, I danced like a crazy fool in flip-flops for nearly 10 straight hours. And while I'm a little sad I missed the out-of-control Girl Talk set (where Paris Hilton was rumored to be among the 50 scantily-clad people dancing on a stage that was described to me as "where the Cobrasnake threw up"), I regret nothing. Not even the strange, spastic thing my arms started doing in the middle of the Arcade Fire’s “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out).” I certainly don't regret missing the reportedly awesome Kings of Leon, because 1) I enjoyed them plenty two months ago and 2) the Decemberists changed my life.
Yet amidst all that greatness, my biggest epiphany occurred, ironically, at the beginning of the set I was least excited to see: When the Red Hot Chili Peppers took the stage, it was as though the skies opened and God spoke directly to me. Although kind of not in the way that you’d think.
Read on, darling PopWatchers, for an explanation, plus: Arcade Fire! LCD Soundsystem! Black Keys! And reports from our celebrity and fashion correspondents! All that and more... after the jump!
Today’s a big day, PopWatchers: It’s Saturday, the heat is overwhelming, and a bunch of my favorite bands are playing right in a row. The Coachella Math is getting hard -- how to weigh the Rapture against the Black Keys? Or LCD Soundsystem against the Red Hot Chili Peppers? New Pornographers vs. Peter, Bjorn & John? What about Kings of Leon vs. the Decemberists?
That last one was easy -- Colin Meloy and his merry band (pictured) released what was easily my favorite record of last year, The Crane Wife, and I hadn’t seen them play that stuff live yet. Was my confidence in the Portland songsmiths rewarded? Hell yeah. To quote Colin himself, it was a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect, a perfect show. There's always that Coachella moment, I think, when the sun is finally behind the mountains and everything starts turning from an endurance sport into sheer pleasure. Last year, I experienced it when the Yeah Yeah Yeahs played "Maps" just as the first searchlights were shooting into the desert sky. That made me cry. This year, it came in the form of a man in a giant whale costume, and a thousand screaming strangers, and a show that made me feel like I was on a giant, pirate-ship-shaped rollercoaster.
After the jump, the results of all my Saturday Coa-Choices... plus Shirley Halperin does some more spotting of the famous, and Lori Majewski brings your attention to the trend that’s sweeping the faces of our nation.
Festivals like Coachella are all about seeing the stars in action — whether they’re rocking out onstage or wandering below among the hoi polloi. Last night EW.com bumped into Anthony Kiedis, frontman for Red Hot Chili Peppers (Saturday night's Coachella headliners), just as the newly reunited Jesus and Mary Chain’s set was beginning to wind down, and grabbed him for a quick chat.
ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: What bands are you most excited about seeing this weekend?
ANTHONY KIEDIS: I want to see the Roots. I really want to see Willie Nelson. I heard him singing a song called “You Are My Flower,” by Maybelle Carter. I want to see Ratatat. I can’t pass up the opportunity to see Sonic Youth tonight — they’re just always good. And then I’m gonna peep Bjork.
What’s been the highlight of the first day so far for you?
I wanted to see the Arctic Monkeys, ’cause I never have and I heard their drummer was good. I showed up as they were ending, which is like a sinking feeling. And then, despite my lifelong bias against Jesus and Mary Chain — because I was on tour with them in Lollapalooza in 1992 or something, and I just didn’t get along with those guys back then. But I decided this morning, “I’m gonna open my mind, I’m gonna go see the Jesus and Mary Chain.” And they’re good!
As a true festival vet, what’s your take on the scene here tonight?
Well, I get excited about music. So my hope is that I come down here and somebody rocks my world.
Has that happened yet?
I’m still waiting. But I think Ratatat’s gonna get some in. They manage to bring a real emotional quality into electronic music that I feel in my heart.
Are the Chili Peppers working on any new music?
In our astral cells, we’re working on new music. But until our tour is finished, there’s not gonna be any real official [work] — because otherwise there would be pressure to write songs, but we couldn’t record them because we’re still touring. [Right now] it’s very raw and unofficial. We start all of our shows with these improvisational jams, and sometimes I’ll hear it and I’ll go, “There’s a song in there,” and I’ll take it with me and I know I’m gonna go work on that music. We always jam [in the studio], but this is different because this is live jamming, for an audience. Sometimes I hear some magical stuff.
Is there anyone you’d like to collaborate with who you haven’t yet?
I wouldn’t turn down some opportunities. Right now I’m very excited about M.I.A. I’ve heard a song [from her upcoming second album] — just perfect and beautiful. It’s the real deal. And the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are another one of my favorite bands. If Karen O called me up and said, “Let’s write a song,” I would be inclined to say yes.
Good morning, PopWatchers! It's creeping up to a high of 103 degrees here in Palm Springs, California-- and in a few short hours the music will be even hotter! Bam! You like that? Yeah! Hot! HOT!
Sorry. It's the sunstroke. Yesterday was the first day of Coachella, and between the bands-- including headliner Björk, pictured-- the crowds, and the sight of hundreds of skinny hipster boys in short-shorts, I'm a little delirious. Maybe it was just an awkward acclimation period, but Friday didn't deliver the punch I was hoping for, even if it did come through with the guest star. After the jump, I attempt to explain without getting sunscreen in my eyes. Which I did yesterday. Twice. I'm basically a toddler.
