Friday night at Coachella was a bit of a bust. Sonic Youth had just flown in from China and played such tinny, jetlagged versions of “Candle” and “100%” that I actually began to think that they were too old to rock. Blasphemy, I know. The same could have been said for me and my sweaty ass, as I fell asleep during Interpoo and found myself fending off waifs half my age who were trying the entire night–in vain–to buy my beer bracelet off me. Most of these indie-rock chicks were decked out in the latest Ukrainian Hooker Couture, an example of which I found on the very funny carpetblog.
Bjork closed out the night with songs from her forthcoming album, Volta. I considered revoking her Honorasian status after that funereal, horn-heavy dirge-a-thon, but walked out instead along with the rest of the bjummed-out, red-ankled crowd.
The best performance came from The Jesus and Mary Chain, who reunited for the desert festival. They looked like accountants on casual Friday, but they were tight.
Scarlett Jugshansson joined lead singer Jim Reid for “Just Like Honey,” that Prozacian anthem forever marred by that pointless Sofia Coppola movie. I can say with certainty that Jugs was the prettiest Ukrainian Hooker of them all.
Speaking of working girls, Amy Winehouse played before sunset in probably the most-anticipated Friday show. Her throwback voice is quite powerful, and I love the fact that she seems to have stepped right out of a Diane Arbus photograph. But when she busted out Lauryn Hill’s “Doo Wop (That Thang),” and all the shirtless white folk around me started bobbing their heads like they were at a Phish concert,
Our Lauryn, who art in Jersey, hallowed be thy dopeness. Thy new album come, thy record sales be done, on earth as it is on the Billboard charts. Give this white girl this day a can of whoop-ass, and forgive her her trespasses, as we forgive her trespasses against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from this blue-eyed soul hooey. For thine is the real real, the power, and the glory. White people singing R&B and being held to a much lower standard are tired, forever and ever, amen.
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