Ok, first things first:






Put that in your MVP Trophy and smoke it! See, this is why life is always better for Laker fans. Today's OT buzzer-beater thriller versus Steve Nash and the Phoenix trey-bombers was the most exciting game since Fish's "Point-Four" versus San Antonio, which was the most exciting win since Big Shot Rob's three-point dagger against Sacramento, which was the most exciting game since...

I think you get the point. We have our highs and lows like any other team, but there's something about wearing that Purple and Gold that brings out the best in even the crappiest of lineups. They rise to the occasion. There's a standard here, people - tradition.

(And before you say it, no - we are NOT the Yankees of the NBA. It's called "salary cap" and "luxury tax," bitches. Now go wash out your mouths with soap.)


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And now, Saturday's Coachella.

I've been in the desert three months now, where I'm a notably younger fish. And I was just getting used to the golf carts and scooters, the hip replacements, the oversized sunglasses and sun visors - it was starting to feel "normal," when the Coachella Music and Arts Festival landed on us Saturday - flooding the valley with thousands upon thousands of progressive twenty- and thirty-somethings, craving good fresh music and a fun time.

Seriously, the moment I accept my fate out here, the valley's hot and semi-attainable girl population amazingly quadruples for 48 beautiful hours, only to have everyone leave tomorrow morning as I'm covering the Jack Nicklaus launching of a new country club golf course. I must have severely wronged someone in a past life.

This year I've scoped out all the major festival entrances and exits ... don't be surprised if next year they're all inexplicably sabotaged and blocked-off, trapping concert refugees for days, weeks - eventually persuading them to relocate and start a new life here. Call it bringing the mountain to Mohammed...


And as riveting as all that is, on to some of the acts...


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Honorable Mention: Lyrics Born. My former Chi-town roomate worshipped this guy - used to come in from the bars and put his CD on repeat while we slaughtered each other over Halo. Lyrics certainly lived up to the moment, although he couldn't seem to understand why the crowd wasn't going nuts in 95 degree heat, and he kept yelling for more noise and energy - he even stopped a song midway through. Admirable, but Christ Lyrics! It's 3 p.m. in the desert and we've got a whole day ahead of thumping ahead of us ... cut an audience some slack, would ya?

Amusing performance: Common. Hey, I liked Common. My favorite understated moment of his set: the "fuck Duke Lacrosse" he seamlessly wove into a freestyle rhyme. He also went off on this rant about how "You ladies need to get your shit together too (Not just us fellas)." Damn straight!

Very amusing performance: Kanye West, who followed Common on the mainstage. Because Coachella's all about diverse acts, and nothing says musical diversity like following one Southside Chicago rapper with another - especially when MY MORNING JACKET IS PLAYING ON THE OTHER STAGE, AT THE SAME TIME. Nothing short of heartbreak, right there.

But you haven't lived till you've seen Kanye doing a spot-on dance impersonation of the Ah-ha singer in that old 80s video, while "Take On Me" blares on the speakers.

This really happened. Kanye goes, "Don't pretend like y'all don't feel this song!" There are surreal moments, and there are surreal moments. I just hope they don't shoot Kanye for that when he gets home.


Breakthrough performance: Franz Ferdinand. These guys are surprisingly good and upbeat live. My favorite Saturday performance, overall. Too bad they were followed by...

Most God-awful unfortunate "band" to ever grace a stage: Depeche Mode.

I'm not playing music snob here. In fact, my musical taste is laughably dated compared to most of the hipsters at Coachella. But I know this in my heart to be true:

Depeche Mode is the worst abomination of a band ever created. If you enjoy Depeche Mode on any level, then you have no legitimate musical taste. Period. Look, this isn't opinion - this is cold hard fact.

Watching three members just stand there in front of these dumb fucking keyboards that resembled flying saucers and occasionally press a key or two, plus a guitarist wearing I shit you not angel wings on his back (what, does he think he's a fucking Victoria's Secret model?), while a narcissistic frontman turns up the rockstar without a hint of irony...

This is not a rockband, this is a 12-step program. And they took themselves so goddamned seriously - The asshole has friggin' angel wings on his back! That's what it was - the ridiculous self-importance. Afterwards, we hit the main Sahara Tent for Daftpunk - this electronic music duo from Paris. Normally I despise tecno, but it was impossible not to love these guys - They wore these blue space suits, complete with helmets so you couldn't see their faces. So you had two spacemen spinning records in this giant laser-light-pyramid-thingy on stage. The difference between Daftpunk's spacemen and Depeche Mode's flying saucer keyboards? Underneath those helmets Daftpunk knows they're ridiculous and they love it - they embrace it.

I could develop this into a Master's thesis ... I just really fucking hate Depeche Mode. And so should you - it's the American thing to do.

Today I tragically missed Los Amigos Invisibles, a Venezuelan band I discovered in Caracas. Apparently the rest of the world had already discovered them long before I landed there. (Again, scroll through my iPod and you'll see why this isn't a shock.) The other big name missed today was Madonna in the tent, but I'm straight so that's not exactly a disappointment.