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

THE WORST

Worst Appreciation for Time: The Cure
For an hour, the Cure was amazing. Alternating between the silvery guitar fantasias of the setting-appropriate "Underneath the Stars" and "Pictures of You" and shorter, poppier numbers like "Lovesong" and "The End of the World," it felt as if Robert Smith and his fellow gloom merchants might deliver a masterful festival-closing set. Too bad they ruined the strong start by playing for nearly three hours, devoting way too much of that time to aimless interminable guitar jams. SPIN's Peter Gaston summed it up when he said to me, during one of the seemingly endless solos: "There are fifty Cure songs I'd rather hear right now than this." -- DM

Worst Use of an Idiom: Lykke Li
Trying to rouse a somewhat placid mid-afternoon crowd, Swedish electro-popster Lykke Li yelled, "Wake up and smell the Swedish Techno Coffee!" Uh, okay. Really though, the blonde ingénue didn't need to worry. The burbling, keyboard-driven whimsy "Little Bit" and a surprisingly emotional cover of Kings of Leon's "Knocked Up" combined with the all black-clad singer's aerobically awkward dancing (or was it jazzercising?) eventually got the crowd moving. Later, Li hit the main stage to sing "Young Folks" with fellow Swedes Peter Bjorn and John. I believe the word for that combo is "smorgasbord." -- DM

Worst Pitting-Out: Friendly Fires
Playing in the scorching early afternoon, English dance-rockers Friendly Fires put on a hip-shaking show that raised the temperature inside the Gobi tent to dangerous levels. Two songs in, singer Ed McFarlane's oxford shirt was so soaked through with sweat that he looked more like a contestant in an office workers' wet shirt contest than a rock'n'roll frontman. Despite that, his band's burbling synths and stuttering guitar lines (sometimes accompanied by a cowbell -- and yes, someone in the audience yelled "More cowbell") achieved a dance-rock fusion that U2 could've benefited from hearing back before they did Pop. Bono, prepare the time machine -- there are some ideas I'd like you to steal. -- DM

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Worst Use of a Giant Cube: Etienne de Crecy
Maybe I should just be thankful that someone is willing to shell out for a giant, glowing cube. But French house DJ Etienne de Crecy's massive stage prop didn't actually do anything that cool. Unless, that is, one thinks that lines lighting up the perimeter of the squares in the same predictable patterns over and over again while a DJ sits in the center is mind-blowing. The lighting just made me think of the following: Tetris, Hollywood Squares, Sudoku, Pong. Not sure any of those things are natural matches for Crecy's distorted beat fusillades. -- DM

Worst Facsimile of Stage Banter: The Horrors
As My Bloody Valentine got noisy across the grounds, frowns etched deeper into the Horrors' young mugs. Guitarist Joshua Von Grimm glared offstage and singer Faris Badwan swatted petulantly at his mic stand. Intractable, but not unexpected -- the five Brits used to spackle their faces with goth paint and cause bloody brawls at most gigs. Now they've scrubbed up slightly into a Velvet Underground-moppet vibe of flat-ironed shags and black leather, yet the material's still surly, Joy Division-bagging punk. As much considered, their faces were still exceptionally long, for readily disclosed reasons. "You know where I'd rather be right now," whined Badwan, pointing in the direction of Kevin Shields and Co. What an inspiring contribution. Did he stop to think it might be mutual? I almost left the tent just to spite him. Then I did because I'm not a masochist. -- SA