Coachella Festival 2004 Review

Mountains line the horizon and there are palm trees as far as the eye can see. The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival lies some 25 miles away from Palm Springs, in Indio, California. Its unforgiving desert terrain folds under the weight of cash; lush grass, and fountains, with a cinema tent and modern-art constructions littering the site. Oh, and every great band you could hope to see this year.

The Empire Polo Field is roughly the same size as Reading's. Both the Coachella (main) Stage and Outdoor Theatre (second stage) have backless frames that overlook the awesome scenery while three other tents house a fantastic array of DJs, dance acts and newer bands. The food and drinking areas are fenced off to prevent rubbish from carpeting the site and priced at typically British rates, the quality and variation far surpasses UK shit-in-a-tray.

It's barely afternoon, yet the temperature's already approaching 100 degrees. The music of Radiohead, Jeff Buckley and Nine Inch Nails is being blasted from the main stage from four classical string players known as the Section Quartet. It's a beautiful unconventional sight.

The first proper band of the weekend is The Sounds, who sound like a pub level Debbie Harry cover outfit. It's Swedish synth-driven indie that thinks it's a lot prettier than it is. Front woman Maj Irarsson is all hand claps and leather, but it becomes increasingly embarrassing as the crowd refuses to shake along.

Still, The Stills certainly know how to get things moving over on the Outdoor Theatre. Montreal's royal mopesters are always going to be onto a winner melding Kurt's self-loathing with The Smiths' stinging pop sentiments. Lyrically, it's all pretty dour, but 'Gender Bombs', like pretty much all the tracks from their excellent debut, Logic Will Break Your Heart, is striking and instant. We'd highlight every Joy Division bassline and every Radiohead guitar lick, but we're too busy dancing.

Stellastarr* are the prettiest band at Coachella and they sound it. Of course, it's all eighties thievery - The Cure versus Pixies versus U2 - but we love it. The dirty New York melodies filter perfectly through the stuffy Mojave Tent, and the likes of 'My Coco', the delicious standout from their self-title debut, are the perfect mid-afternoon stirrers.

...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead don't really suit open air stages. Especially in the kind of bakery now descending on the second stage. It does mute the chaos though, and though their riotous guitar destruction is Pear Harbour done by Fender, it's not the world-imploding warzone it could be under canvas. Shame.

Back on the Coachella Stage, The (International) Noise Conspiracy are as ridiculous and loud as ever, puncturing the air with their increasingly loved political-punk rhetoric. While the guitarists synchronise their stage jumping, Dennis Lyxzen shows off his formidable mic-hurling routines, over a dirty garage rock show somewhere over Thin Lizzy and The Hives' rusty rainbow. Crunchy.

Out of all the acts on today, Desert Sessions seem most at ease with the frightening heat. Queens Of The Stone Age's Josh Homme attacks his side-project with majestic drive and the resulting fourty-five minutes are an interesting, if slightly uneasy mix of dark, wiry riffs and divine rhythms. Joined by the likes of Brody Dalle (Distillers) and Tim Van Hammel (Millionaire), it's captivating stuff.