"It is hot, so very hot!” says Jamie McDonald as his UK band South kicks off the inaugural performance at 2003’s 4th semi-annual Coachella Music and Arts Festival. He’s right, as the festival is once again held at a polo field nestled in the desert just east of Palm Springs and three hours from Los Angeles. This year’s festival featured a line-up perhaps slightly stronger than last years, with a couple of the bands just reaching the bar set by 2002’s festival-stealing performance by Sweden’s The (International) Noise Conspiracy. Luckily this year also featured a fantastic set by fellow Swedes The Soundtrack of Our Lives, as well as a slew of other strong performances. Here’s a complete and detailed record of what we saw over the course of the two-day festival.

South - Photos By Wendy Lynch

South is also the first band to brave the technical difficulties that would scar the Mojave Tent, the tent that featured the most consistent bill over all the stages this year. After some initial sound adjustments, the trio of multi-instrumentalists (augmented by a fourth touring member) plays favorites like “Paint the Silence” from 2001’s From Here On In as well as previewing tracks off their destined-to-be-brilliant sophomore effort With the Tides, due out in August. New compositions like “Colours in Waves” spark with a focus and energy reminiscent of Doves at their finest, and point in a more rocking, and less electronic, direction for the band. When the band concludes their set with a ten-minute-plus spacey jam of a great song (“we always end with this one,” McDonald says), South cements themselves as a highlight of the festival, and they’re only the first band.

Next up in the Mojave Tent are Scottish rockers Idlewild. The five piece’s charismatic frontman Roddy Womble continues on South’s theme when he announces early in the set, “Scottish people and the desert don’t mix very well, so we’re kind of wilting in front of your eyes.” Wilting the band does not do, as they storm through songs off all three of their albums. The many highlights include fan favorites “Little Discourage,” “When I Argue I See Shapes” and “Rosability.” The band also plays songs off their ace new record The Remote Part, including the epic “Trying to Throw Your Arms Around the World,” “I Am What I Am Not” and ironic anthem “American English.” As usual Roddy seems to stumble around the stage and lean on the microphone as if it was a crutch, as he sings his often-insightful words of wisdom, backed by the typical tightness and energy of the rest of the band.

Badly Drawn Boy - Photos by Wendy Lynch

Badly Drawn Boy is next to grace the stage, and he announces himself. “I’d like you to give a warm welcome to the best singer from Manchester, if not the world: Mr. Badly Drawn Boy,” Mr. Damon Gough announces, adding, “I couldn’t afford an announcer today.” The singer-songwriter plays a stripped down solo set on acoustic guitar and then later on piano, with the odd bit of harmonica thrown in. “Can someone turn that shit down?” he remarks about the pumping dance bass coming from the nearby Gobi Tent. Then Gough covers a Jackson Five song (I can’t remember which one), singing over the top of an instrumental version of the song that is being played directly from a CD over the PA. Gough then plays songs from both of his two proper albums, as well as from the About a Boy soundtrack.

Clearly a little grumpy, Gough jokingly (we hope) announces “This is a song I’d like to do for the organizers of this festival today because I was told I was headlining.” He then goes on about missing his two kids back home before continuing, “I was told I was headlining the show, and I am. That’s the way I feel, fuck ‘em.” It is hard to tell how serious Gough is being, but no matter as he launches, with a tear in his eye, into a touching story about how he just talked to his young daughter long distance on the phone as she was taking a bath. “And that’s all you need to know. Fuck everything else, fuck the world war!” he states. “Where’s the good news?” he goes on to ask. “If I have to be the new Bob Geldof, I’m up for the challenge,” Gough boldly jokes before launching into a cover of peace anthem “Let the Sunshine In.” Gough goes on to play “The Shining,” “Once Around the Block” and other favorites, but the sound of one man and his acoustic guitar can soon wear out its welcome. Luckily Gough then moves to the piano to play About a Boy’s signature tune “Silent Sigh.” In “You Were Right,” he namechecks dead musicians like Jeff Buckley, The Charlatans’ Rob Collins and Joe Strummer (who’s name he repeats several times, much to the audience’s approval). A festival is a strange place to find Badly Drawn Boy, as Gough is usually prone to playing rambling two-and-a-half to three-hour sets and not the tight 30 to 40 minutes an artist is usually given at a festival. Sure enough, Gough announces that he plans to keep playing songs on the piano as they set up the stage for the next band (Hot Hot Heat) and will play until they wheel the piano away, but we are off to interview South, eat questionable food and catch Blur’s set.

It is no surprise that Blur’s set on the Main Stage proves to be the highlight of the first day. Even without Graham Coxon the band plays with a quality somehow above the rest of Saturday’s line-up. The British trio -- Damon Albarn, Dave Rowntree and Alex James -- is backed on lead guitar by Verve’s former second-guitarist Simon Tong, a keyboardist, a percussionist and three backing singers (two girls and a guy), who may or may not be from Mali. The band mainly previews songs off its then forthcoming cheeky new album, Think Tank, but also find room for a few old favorites. The set begins with Think Tank’s opener “Ambulance” and finishes with that album’s closer “Battery In My Leg.” After the choir-backed and bass-heavy “Ambulance” (one of Think Tank’s highlights), Blur launches into their 1994 indie-disco hit “Girls and Boys,” which immediately gets the crowd going.

“ This is a song we recorded in the Moroccan desert, so it’s nice to perform it at another desert,” Albarn says, looking dapper in a tie-less suit, before the band plays “Out of Time,” Think Tank’s touching Mali music backed first single (in the UK). After a very welcome performance of “Beetlebum,” Damon begins to spray the front of the audience with his water bottle, but then stops himself and humorously says, “Maybe it’s a bit frivolous, throwing water in the desert. Won’t do it again.” The computerized voice on the current US single “Crazy Beat” is less annoying live, and the song has a great jump-up-and-down energy to it. Hopefully it’ll garner them the same stateside success they had with “Song 2.”

“ This is dedicated to Joe Strummer,” Albarn announces before performing the quirky “Gene By Gene,” the second Coachella tribute to the late Clash singer / guitarist. Some have compared Think Tank’s experimental desert rock to The Clash’s. As the sun sets the band performs another Think Tank song, “On the Way to the Club.” Simon Tong’s powerful distorted guitar is reminiscent of his Verve days. 13 track “Trimm Trabb” finds Albarn screaming into the mic in emotional desperation. Drug song “Brothers and Sisters” is followed by the punky and vaguely political one-minute blast that is “We’ve Got a File On You.” Albarn shouts the song’s title repeatedly while pointing out to various audience members.

The low point of the set arrives with “Song 2.” Not that it isn’t fun to bounce around with the rest of the crowd, it’s just sad that Blur gets the biggest audience reaction from their one modern-rock radio hit in the US. What about all the better songs they played during the set? It just goes to highlight the amount of K-ROQ kids in the audience here to see the likes of the fuckin’ Beastie Boys. Luckily the band end with the darkly atmospheric and devastatingly beautiful “Battery In Your Leg,” the only Think Tank song Graham Coxon is co-credited with writing. Echoing the song’s lyrics, Albarn introduces the song by announcing, “This is a banner for the good times.” What Blur’s tight, and best-mixed, set of the festival highlights is that their new album might really be better than a first listen might indicate and cannot be dismissed without repeated listens to give it a chance to grow on you. The only lament is that the band isn’t given more time to play all their other amazing songs like “Tender” and “The Universal.

Next we trudge back over to the Mojave Tent to catch the first three songs of the stupidly named The Music. The band does come off better live than on their ridiculously over-hyped, poorly mixed debut album. Frontman Robert Harvey sure can dance, even if he looks like a kid with ADD on speed as he does his strange almost-break-dancing moves around the stage to his loud backing band. Critics have somehow managed to compare The Music to The Verve, and although the influence is there, Harvey lacks the lyrical power of Richard Ashcroft, and the guitarist can’t touch Nick McCabe. Still, like I said, they sound more convincing live than on CD.

After catching the French / German duo Stereo Total red-handed as they perform a tongue in cheek electro-pop cover of Salt ‘n’ Pepa’s guilty-pleasure classic “Push It” to a barely half-full Gobi tent, we head back next door to watch Ladytron in the Mojave Tent. Due to delays in the tent all day and sound problems with the PA, the Liverpool electro-clash (if you must) quartet go on almost an hour later. The natives are restless, booing and throwing plastic water bottles at the soundmen. Finally the foursome -- two guys / two girls, all clad in black -- takes the stage to stand behind their keyboards for the next 40 minutes or so. The live band also includes a drummer and bassist. The tent is bursting at the seams to hear Helen Marnie’s seductively detached vocals. The beloved “Playgirl” is of course welcome, as are other songs. “Evil” is one of the few songs where Marnie comes out from behind her keyboard, as she struts around the stage singing “For your pleasure, at your leisure.” Other highlights include “Black Plastic” (“Black plastic touching black plastic” the curious chorus goes) and “Seventeen.”

To be honest, I’ve never been much of a fan of The Beastie Boy’s music, even though I respect their intentions, and so after dinner we bi-pass the main-stage headliners in favor of Groove Armada back in the Mojave Tent. The UK dance duo of Andy Cato and Tom Findlay is thankfully backed by a full band, rather than just a couple of turntables and a mixing board, with a laptop thrown in for good measure. The Armada proves to be the most soulful and funky act of the weekend, complete with a deep-souled black female singer and a spitfire MC, as they played songs from their more rockin’ new Lovebox album. If you’ve ever seen Doves close their set with “Space Face,” by the trio’s old early-90’s dance act Sub Sub, then you’ll get an idea for the vibe of seeing Groove Armada with a full band, as they combine live drumming with computerized beats. The band plays a less electronic, more organic version of their hit “I See You Baby.” The best moment comes with “At the River,” as a live trumpet and trombone accompany it. After turning the Mojave Tent into a veritable disco, the band gets the whole audience bouncing up and down to “Superstylin,” which once again utilizes live horns.

Not long after, Jam-influenced British youngsters The Libertines swagger on stage, only to storm off just two songs later. Relatively unknown Stateside, but hyped back home, the band seems like a strange choice to headline any of the stages, and the tent is barely half full. Because the stage has been running an hour late, the police literally pull the plug for being past the noise curfew, shutting down the power after the second song. Lead singer Pete Doherty seems to know that this is going to happen, as he slams down his microphone stand in frustration moments before the power is cut, making it seem like he was responsible for the cut when slamming it down. Die-hard fans down in the front that claim they came to Coachella just to see The Libertine’s first west-coast performance (after previous tours were cancelled due to visa problems) are distraught and pissed. The band’s manager comes out to assure them that somehow the band will play the next day. Idlewild’s Roddy Womble, who is witnessing all this, admits to us that he thought his band was shit earlier (they were not); that the sound was bad (it could’ve been better); and that while he likes walking around festivals, he doesn’t particularly enjoy playing them or watching other bands play them. Nice guy that Roddy Womble though.

Soundtrack of Our Lives - Photos By Wendy Lynch

Day two begins for us on the Main Stage with a triumphant set from Sweden’s Soundtrack of Our Lives. Led by bearded and big-muumuu-garbed lead singer Ebbot Lundberg, the six-piece rip through their three albums of gorgeously rockin’ neo-psychedelia, as well as playing b-side “Dow Jones Syndrome.” The band exploits many rockstar clichés, from a double-necked guitar, to plenty of solos and confident posing, all to great effect. It’s nice to see a band come out, know they’re great and actually be fuckin’ great. All that can really be said when watching them perform is “FUCK YEAH!” There always has to be one band member whose birthday coincides with the festival, and this year it’s Soundtrack’s bassist that has the honors, Lundberg announces before they play “Nevermore.” “Here’s something you might be familiar with, I’m not sure,” Lundberg says before the band launches into a heavy version of “Sister Surround.” The official single from the band’s latest album, Behind the Music, the song has also gotten some play on MTV 2’s late 120 Minutes and seems to register with some of the early afternoon audience. The live version concludes with a ferocious drum solo. The band ends everything with a fantastic “21st Century Rip-Off.” As usual for the band, midway through the song Lundberg makes the audience all sit down as he comes down from the stage and walks among us with an elongated microphone chord. Although this works in a small club setting, it is surprising that Lundberg manages to pull such an act off on the Main Stage of a festival. After showing off his big belly to the crowd, he commands us all to get up abruptly just as the band suddenly starts rockin’ again. Fuckin’ perfect! No doubt the band won some new fans that day.

Polyphonic Spree - Photo by Wendy Lynch

How do you follow such a great live set? Well if you’re an amazing twenty-three-piece symphonic pop group from Dallas by the name of The Polyphonic Spree, then it’s not a problem. The organizers of Coachella were wise to book some of the best live bands on the planet right now, like Soundtrack of Our Lives and Fischerspooner. Anyone who’s seen The Polyphonic Spree will tell you that they also rank among the greatest live acts around these days. There’s just so much exuberance and joy to be experienced when watching them perform, and their songs are truly brought to life live, much more so than on their debut album The Beginning Stages Of…, which was admittedly recorded as little more than a demo. It’s unlikely that most of the Main Stage audience that early Sunday afternoon went to church that morning, but no matter, as there was the church of The Polyphonic Spree to attend, led by wild minister Tim Delaughter. Let’s not confuse things though, The Polyphonic Spree may all dress in white robes, perform uplifting music and feature a small choir, but they are not a gospel band or promoting any sort of religion other than feeling happiness and joy in your heart. You’d have to be a stonehearted cynic not to want to join their movement after seeing them live. “Who wants to be in The Polyphonic Spree?” Delaughter asks the audience, to be met with cheers. “We’ve got robes back there,” he continues, pointing back towards the t-shirt stand, “so you can come on board.” One of the guitarists from Soundtrack of Our Lives comes on board and sings with the choir, along with some other guy who looks familiar (it’s hard to place him through).

The infectious music of The Polyphonic Spree is made not just by a choir, but also features such instruments as a harp, an obo, a Theremin, a flute and a French horn, along with your basic guitar-bass-drums setup. The French horn player is one of the most animated of the group, leaping around so much at one point that he almost trips and falls over. All the while the band’s bearded manager, Chris, is trying to get a huge Polyphonic Spree banner hoisted behind the band. Soon after they finally get it up there, for some reason it’s taken down again. The band plays favorites like “Have a Day” and “Soldier Girl,” as well as an epic new song taken from their upcoming second album that will be released later this year. As they exit the stage, they leave many new converts in their wake. In a perfect world The Polyphonic Spree would be headlining the Main Stage over the terminally annoying Red Hot Chili Peppers (and that’s the only mention the Chili Peppers will get in this review).

It’s hard to top The Polyphonic Spree, but it is an amusing sight to find Ben Folds on top of his piano trying to conduct the Outdoor Theater to harmonize along with his song. Folds seems to be playing completely solo now, but tries to turn the audience into his backing band -- and to some success -- as he waves his arms around and gets different sections of the crowd to sing different parts of his song at once.

Back to the Mojave Tent again to catch Detroit garage-rockers The Von Bondies. This band’s been around for awhile, but has just signed a major label contract with Warner Bros., and they also attract a small celebrity following at Coachella. Their old Motor City buddy Jack White is to be found watching from the side of the stage, along with members of The Mooney Suzuki, the flautist of The Polyphonic Spree, and a mowhawked Kelly Osbourne (which was one of many sightings that weekend of Ozzy’s offspring). But back to the band: The Von Bondies consist of two guys and two fairly cute girls (one wearing slightly ill-advised hot pants this day). They play garage rock. Yes, I know, yawn, but they actually pull it off with a little bit more panache, texture and interesting changes than some of their ilk. They’re not out to revolutionize rock ‘n’ roll, but they put on a good show. At the end of the set the lead singer throws down his guitar and storms off stage, leaving the rest of the band playing for another minute or so. After the set, Jack White is to be found talking to “hot pants”; what would Meg say if she knew?!

Tortoise - Photo by Wendy Lynch

Tortoise bored the Outdoor Theatre with their experimental easy listening music. Even UTR co-publisher / photographer Wendy Lynch, a Tortoise fan, was found yawning. The noises being made on the Main Stage at the same time couldn’t be any more different, as The Mars Volta were heard making quite a racket. One half of the now defunct At the Drive In, the big-haired half, seemed to be embracing a spaced-out classic-rock sound reminiscent of Hendrix and Pink Floyd. Last year they slightly over-rocked the Mojave Tent. An upgrade in stage seems to mean an upgrade in scope too, although it seems that some festival-goers were left a little baffled.

Sonic Youth - Photos by Wendy Lynch

“ We’re gonna play a mellow folk set for you today,” says Thurston Moore before his now legendary band Sonic Youth storms through a Main Stage set that was anything but A Mighty Wind. Moore, Lee Renaldo, Kim Gordon (wearing a very short dress) and Co. showcase songs from last year’s critically respected return-to-form, Murray Street, as well as fan favorites, like set opener “Confusion Is Sex,” (from their 1983 debut full-length of the same name) and set closer “Sugar Kane” (from their recently re-issued 1992 classic Dirty). “I’d like to thank Golden Voice for inviting us to the country fair this year,” Moore jokes at some point before going off on how he thinks there should be more female performers at next year’s Coachella (as if The Donnas weren’t enough this year).

Back to the Mojave Tent, where The Libertines get a second chance to wow Coachella. They seem to be playing to a crowd twice the size as the one that showed up for them the night before, so it looks as though getting shut down by the police has worked in their favor by giving them a little bit of notoriety. First of all, The Libertines are not the future of rock ‘n’ roll. Some in the hype machine that is often the British music press would like you to believe that The Libertines are going to change your life, but they probably won’t. They’ve been dubbed with the dubious honor of being the UK Strokes, and sure, why not, although they owe more of a debt to The Jam and some 60’s British Invasion bands. They are spunky, tight and a little stylish. Black drummer Gary Powell goes topless, but somehow pulls it off. There are hints of The Coral and Supergrass, but less of those two band’s quirkiness. Basically, while The Libertines are good, they still left us wondering what all the fuss was about.

Primal Scream - Photos by Wendy Lynch

To the Outdoor Theater for one of the more anticipated sets of the day: Primal Scream. The British near-legends sound great, and their show is only marred by a somewhat weak setlist. The band unfortunately play some of the more forgettable tracks off their last two albums, but thankfully they also play strong tracks like XTRMNTR’s closer “Shoot Speed / Kill Light,” which frontman Bobby Gillespie dedicates to Soundtrack of Our Lives, and Vanishing Point’s equally epic opening track “Burning Wheel.” The set really jumps into high gear when the Primals play, in a row, the only two truly great songs off their slightly misconceived blues-rock album Give Out But Don’t Give Up: “Rocks” and “Jailbird.” After those two songs really get the crowd going, a siren announces a simply amazing version of "Swastika Eyes," one that perfectly merges the song’s heady dance beats and deadly electric guitars into one monstrous experience. Unfortunately the band plays nothing off of Screamadellic, an album that seems tailor-made for the festival experience. When touring XTRMNTR, the band still played songs off their seminal 1991 breakthrough album, and “Higher Than Sun” would have perfectly fit the sun-setting situation. Alas, that is the downfall of seeing some of your favorite bands at a festival: they don’t get to play as long as you’d like.

The White Stripes - Photo By Wendy Lynch

“ I’m Jack White and this is my sister Meg from Detroit,” one half of The White Stripes announces on the Main Stage. Not that they need any introduction, as the garage-blues duo commands one of the biggest crowds of the weekend. Despite Jack’s truly awful pants (one leg is black, while the other is red), the band rips through songs off their critically acclaimed new album, Elephant, as well as playing older hits like “Hotel Yorba” and “We’re Going to Be Friends.” Jack and Meg have a couple of real tasks ahead of them: to play their minimalist rock on such a big stage and also to live up to the deafening hype that’s trailed them for the past couple of years. They pretty much pull it off, and as always, Jack’s guitar sounds like a whole army rather than a lone soldier. Fittingly, one of the stronger songs is current single “Seven Nation Army.” Another highlight occurs when Meg stands up in front of the center mic to sing “In the Cold, Cold Night,” while Jack accompanies her on organ.

The crowd is getting restless again at the Mojave Tent, and once more there are delays -- this time just before Smiths’ guitarist Johnny Marr takes the stage to perform songs off his debut solo effort Boomslang. “How soon is now?!” a frustrated fan yells while waiting for Marr to come on stage. Finally Marr takes the stage with his backing band The Healers, which features Ringo Starr’s son, Zak Starkey, on drums and former Kula Shaker bassist Alonza Bevan. The band and Marr’s songs sound much less watered down live than on record, and have a welcome power that was strangely lacking on most of Boomslang. “Check it out, download it from the web -- which is cool -- just as long as you play it loud,” jokes Marr about his debut, coming off as a man who’s clearly been in the business long enough to not really care about such things. The tent is regrettably half full -- considering he’s a guitar legend after all -- and then Marr announces that because they’re trying to get the stage back on schedule to avoid a repeat of last night’s plug pulling, he’s been asked to cut his set short. “We were gonna play a whole bunch of Smiths’ songs, a whole bunch of Electronic,” Marr teases the audience, many of whom would probably kill to hear him do a Smiths’ song. Luckily a good taste was left in the ear when Marr finished with a fantastic and long version of Boomslang’s “Need It.”

A quick wander over to the Sahara Tent finds the massive tent full of rabid Underworld supporters. And rabid they should be, as Underworld seems to still hold their crown as one of the best live electronica acts around. “You bring light in, you bring light in,” Karl Hyde sings again and again as giant happy face balloons are hit around the tent by hundreds of ecstasy takers.

We’re only able to catch the first four songs of Outdoor Theater headliners Interpol, because, in the worst scheduling of the whole festival, they are pitted directly against Mojave Tent headliners Fischerspooner. Luckily the Mojave stage is still running late, and we’re able to watch Interpol get off to a bad start. For the first song, they try and launch -- no less than three times -- into “Untitled,” the opener off last year’s justly acclaimed debut Turn on the Bright Lights. The first time, guitarist Daniel Kessler’s loose guitar strap seems to slip off his shoulder, interrupting his playing. They start again, only for Carlos Dengler to fuck up on his bass and they have to halt the song a second time. “That’s what you get when you fly in from Paris, go straight to the show and get on the stage,” vocalist / guitarist Paul Banks explains. Third time’s a charm, and they finally get through the song.

Three songs later and we get the word that Fischerspooner has taken the stage. Although I’ve never seen Interpol live before -- bar seeing their sound-check once when we photographed them for the magazine -- it’s hard to leave the band still playing. Luckily, it is the only time that the organizers majorly mess up the scheduling of the festival this year. Based on an advanced word, Fischerspooner’s live extravaganza had to be seen to be believed. Although Warren Fischer and Casey Spooner are clearly limited as to what they can do by the festival setting, the electro-clash stars still put on an enjoyable multi-media show. Warren basically mans the controls at the mixing booth -- the CD player to be exact -- while Casey commands the stage like no other performer has over the weekend. Flamboyantly gay, but with his tongue dancing firmly in his cheek, Casey Spooner is a true star and all around demigod (if I was a woman or if I was gay, and all that…). The stage show consists of a half-a-dozen Vegas-meets-art-school female dancers, smoke machines, a guy who spits fake blood all over himself and the audience, multiple costume changes, a couple of great female singers, wind machines and confetti. Casey even changes his own costumes on stage a couple of times and crowd surfs during their amazing down-tempo cover of Wire’s “The 15th.” “I don’t know what the next song is,” Casey admits at some point. You’re never quite sure when Casey is lip-syncing or not anyway, but that’s never the point. “There’s nothing subversive about a guitar, it’s so cheap and easy,” Casey jokes, when referring to The Libertines’ shut down the night before.

The band concludes with its big club hit, “Emerge,” and play it not once, but twice. Once may have been enough, as the song’s impact is kind of diluted the second time around. For the first airing, the audience is dosed in confetti. Then Casey plays it up that the police might come and shut them down at any minute, before they launch into an encore performance of “Emerge.” The only thing that’s different is the choreography. “We just have to press play, that’s all we have to do back here,” Warren tellingly reveals from the mixing desk before he does just that.

And that’s it. It’s off to somehow find our car in the parking lot, brave the traffic jam leaving the site and struggle to stay awake on the seemingly never-ending drive back to LA. Overall, it was a weekend of musical delights. It was less a weekend of fresh surprises than it was one of catching up with some of our favorite live performers. There was a big rumor going around this year that Radiohead was going to be a special surprise. Predictably, there was no truth to the rumor. So more of the same please next year, but maybe with a few more surprises.