The Kills' Alison Mosshart / The Cure's Robert Smith

THE BEST:

Best Haute Mess: The Kills
Tall'n'dark Kills guitarist Jamie Hince ("Hotel") dates Kate Moss. Kills singer Alison Mosshart ("VV") strikingly resembles model Helena Christensen. And the duo were absolute live wires of showmanship, convulsing and flirtatious and raw -- it was enough to make you feel drunk. The duo jerked around the stage like predatory specters, lurching into and away from each other with dangerous speed. Their sexy, blues-laced, lo-fi rock folded upon itself in the undersized confinement of the tent; the bass of "No Wow," from their sophomore album of the same name, beat down from the tent rafters like an uncapped tantrum. As messy, glamorous, and real as rock can get. -- Stacey Anderson

Best Live Remixing: Antony & the Johnsons
On the merriest of days, Antony & the Johnsons' ethereal piano ballads will only make you weep for an hour. But Mr. Hegarty knew the sun would come out at Coachella and prepared for it with the weirdest disco throwdown in history, his prior training in the field mostly being vocals on Hercules and the Love Affair's "Blind." For the set, Antony coaxed influential avante DJ Matthew Herbert into remixing his songs live. The result was bizarre and impenetrable. As Herbert sped the dirge-like songs at whim, Hegarty (ghostly pale in a white caftan) didn't alter his singing pace in the slightest, giving such depressing laments as "Another World" (from last year's amazing EP of same name) a calamitous awkwardness. Predictably, rebuttals were quick -- "I swear, on CD, it sounds good," apologized a man to his date as they fled the audience. True. But live, it sounds special. -- SA

Best Smile: Yeah Yeah Yeahs
So much has changed for the YYYs in the last six years -- the size of the venues, the number of magazine covers displaying their faces, the volume of beer Karen O upturns on her head -- but one thing hasn't changed, and it's that enormous, I-love-my-job grin. Karen O sports it at every gig, and the trio's mainstage set during sunset was no exception; they crossed the same decks in 2006, back when their sophomore album Show Your Bones was first hinting at sobered maturation, and the band seemed giddy but overwhelmed by the volume of the crowd. (Actually, she admitted as much then.) On Sunday, they seemed far more comfortable but also less frantically energetic; the real kinetic push came from drummer Brian Chase, though Karen vamped admirably with her cape of pumpkin-sized gold sequins. (Guitarist Nick Zinner barely moved or looked up, if at all, but he was the object of many homemade fan-girl signs.) The temperate vibe matched the confidence of It's Blitz!, their new Siouxie and the Banshees-influenced album -- not coincidentally, its first single, "Zero," also sounded the most assured of the set, and shimmered in the twilight as the afternoon's best mainstage song. And a certain someone had even more reason to smile. -- SA

	GALLERY: Best Coachella Concert Pics VIEW >>
	GALLERY: 20 Must-Hear Coachella Bands VIEW >>
	REVIEW: Best & Worst Shows, Day 1 READ >>
	REVIEW: Best & Worst Shows, Day 2 READ >>

 

Best Advice: Gaslight Anthem
You can't say that Gaslight Anthem frontman Brian Fallon doesn't care. In addition to repeatedly warning his listeners to stay hydrated and use sunscreen, the Springsteen favorite kindly suggested that, in this heat, people refrain from drinking White Lightning and "don't take the blue pills." Such a mensch. But to be fair, Fallon gave out a bit of a mixed message. His band's street tough and radio catchy Jersey-punk -- shot through with interpolations of soul classics "Stand by Me" and "What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted"-- made it hard to keep cool. -- David Marchese

Best Gracious Anarchism: Fucked Up
Sorry to break it to Friday's ingratiating crowd, but the Hold Steady ain't punk. Fucked Up is punk. They are unrelenting, incendiary hardcore with breakneck songs that admit both absurdity and urgency. Early in the afternoon, far before any sane Coachellan felt too drunk, the Toronto six-piece turned the Mojave tent into a seismic mosh pit. Frontman Damian "Pink Eyes" Abraham flung his sizeable frame into the front row, roared anti-establishment couplets from the diaphragm like Henry Rollins, and poured 10 gallons of water on his head, the rivulets mixing with the blood seeping from a cut on his head. Then he thanked the crowd ebulliently for being receptive and "not lame." Then he helped a drenched front-row brat find his Subaru keys. Damn, I want to be in this band. -- SA