PHOTO GALLERY

His name is Prince. And he is funky. That is all you need to know about Day 2.

No one heard Purple Rain at the House of Blues.  And you are more likely to get struck twice by lightening in your own bed than you are to hear Let's Go Crazy at one of the exclusive Green Door jazz shows.  Little Red Corvette?  At the Roosevelt Hotel?  Maybe for $1500 per ticket.

Guess what we got?  All three.  The screaming, leaping, singing, smooshed thousands took to the main stage of the Empire Polo Field on Saturday night and were treated to an epic set of royal rock.  Coachella is Prince's house now, and he absolutely killed it.  Curfews be damned, he played into the 1am hour indulging the mob with sonic pampering of purple proportions.

The artist formerly known as the artist formerly known as Prince brought his full arsenal of smirky, sex appeal and electric power to the new generation.  His signature on-stage entourage was in top form, his wardrobe changes, impeccable, and I just drooled a little on the keyboard as I began to recall the set list. 

In addition to the above mentioned mega-hits he gave the adoring minions a little Cream, took a time machine to 1999 (or 1982, but who's counting) and even put some Seven action out there.  Morris Day joined for Jungle Love, and the feverish drum stylings of Sheila E and her Glamorous Life made an appearance early in the set before Prince went on to gracefully school the biggest (new and old) bands in the world.

Radiohead whooo?  I'm Prince.  I cover Radiohead songs.  This is going to be so wicked I won’t even have to use the word "Creep" in my version.  The Beatles?  Yeah, I do that.  I invented The Beatles.  Come Together, if you catch my drift.* 

*This dialogue was implied.

Then he chanted, “War!  No more!” and sheepishly wriggled around the stage in squealy glee until my heart swelled to twice its size and exploded. 

Oh right, yes, the other bands…  Thanks.  If you took all the Day 2 bands and handed them to a mad scientist, the amalgam might look a little Lambda, but as individual artists, it was a stellar showing.

Portishead gave a surprisingly powerful and commanding performance that far exceeded expectation.  Boyz Noize was so loud it made the inside of my nose vibrate and go numb.  The Brazilian trio Bonde Do Role was a curious arrangement of flailing and wailing and mixing and yelling (fyi, Fifa 2008 loves them.  Nokia loves them.  Diplo loves them.  And you should love them too).  Cold War Kids had big, midday crowd at the main stage, and St. Vincent urged safe sex as she got mellow and pretty with her plum tights and red guitar.

Hot Chip harnessed their nerd power for an impressive desert dance party.  As a thank you, fans responded by nearly trampling each other to dust.  You know how you’ve read countless articles about people getting flattened at soccer games and bone crushed against barricades at public events…  Add this to the list.  Add M.I.A.’s set to that list as well.  She seemed a little winded on Saturday night but set her tent on fire anyway.  No small feat for woman dressed in a vinyl fishing net with rhinestones for eyes.

Now is the time at Coachella when we dance.  When it was Kraftwerk’s turn at the main stage, the foursome stood motionless at their computer podiums and coolly demonstrated how they’ve influenced nearly every genre of art since 1970.  These electronic pioneers continue to prove that no one does robot music like the Germans.  With giant screen graphics of bicycles and pills, the Moog masters hypnotized the night crowd, launching every soul into the retro-futuristic, industrial cosmos.

The following wonders await you in the Day 2 Photo Gallery...

Bands

- Boyz Noize
- Bonde Do Role
- Cold War Kids
- St. Vincent
- Hot Chip
- Kraftwerk
- M.I.A.
- Portishead
- Motherf***ing PRINCE!!!!!!!

Trendwatch

- Thick, monochromatic sunglasses
- Headbands
- Seasonally inappropriate boots
- 70s running shorts/speedos
- Metallic bikinis
- Parasols

Photos by Lisa Brenner