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The best day of the festival almost turned out to be a disaster. Those aforementioned clear paths from the parking lots and sweet, smooth walks through a security staff with light hands did not extend to actually getting to the festival. Indio and Riverside County police turn the warren of gated communities and golf courses and miles-long blocks that surround the polo fields into a frustrating maze of blocked-off streets and unintuitive one-way turns that had me doubling back and retracing my drive more than once. And by the time I finally found a way to a parking lot, the line to get in was absurd and poorly directed. Note to Goldenvoice: please put a GPS address on your parking directions that actually works, and preferably more than one, so that I don’t have to miss all of Shura, Mitski, and Local Natives.

I did manage to see the tail end of Icelandic rock band Kaleo, a group that is appearing more and more to be the next Black Keys in terms of arena headlining potential. The group’s muscular delta blues rock is nigh indistinguishable from their American counterparts, and with a hit single that already went gold on the Billboard chart, likely only to get more and more omnipresent. A lot of the credit should go to frontman JJ Julius Son, whose deep vocals complemented the band’s deft, rootsy work with a showmanship that seems already a decade earned. Easy contender for band most…

Where Friday was cold, dreary and windy, Saturday was merely cold and windy. The sun maintained a long vigil during the day, but razor sharp gusts and a high that barely cleared 70 degrees made sure Coachella kept making a pretty penny on hoodie sales. 2:30 in the afternoon is not necessarily morning, but it always feels like that, with the majority of the festival still in their tents or beds recovering from the night before. Destroyer didn’t seem to mind, though; playing a seven song set heavy in Kaputt cuts, Bejar was in fine form for the afternoon mood. Many enjoyed the suave jazz of “Chinatown” and the hazy “Bay of Pigs” from blankets in the grass, an appropriately dreamy soundtrack as the sun beat down on them and most people unwillingly began their day.

After that I kicked up the energy a bit for Zeds Dead’s set at the Sahara. Already way past full, the Sahara tent was rocking with the Mad Decent duo’s eclectic mix of hip-hop, dubstep and straight-ahead electro. Although Zeds Dead killed it, the already rowdy antics of much of the Sahara’s population had me swearing off the tent for the rest of the day, a decision made easier by future Sahara tenants (David Guetta, Martin Solveig, Sebastian Ingrosso … ehh, I’ll pass). I managed to catch the end of Britpop castaways Kaiser Chiefs on the Main Stage, where the band still made a go of it…

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