The Last of the Reports for Day Two
From the L.A. Newspaper Blogs
When you name your band after a trio of emphatic punctuation marks (and don't think there wasn't some intra-band discussion as to just how many of those would be sufficient on their first playbill), understatement is not one of your strong suits. At any given time the Sacramento dance-funk-whatever ensemble embodied the more-is-more theory of dance music, with its nine-members at times boasting four percussionists, two guitarists, a horn section and three singers -- not that they needed the extra help with lead '!' Nic Offer serving as master of ceremonies
Kings of Leon
You see some bands live, and you can just imagine their demise. Not for lack of talent, but because they just don't want it enough. But Kings of Leon, a family band with an evangelical preacher in the lineage, want it bad. Their radiant set proved that the Nashville crew are following the North Star of fame with keening ambition and an unshakeable faith in the powers of transcendent Southern rock. Although their self-seriousness can get a little much sometimes (really, Caleb, you can wear that black vest and huge cross without giggling at yourself?), there's no denying that Kings of Leon have rock-star glory in their sights.
There's probably no two songs with less in common that Neutral Milk Hotel's "Holland, 1945" and Khia's "My Neck, My Back." One is a stream-of-consciousness retelling of Anne Frank's sexual awakening, and the other is, well, a bit more straightforward on the latter topic. But Greg Gillis, the erstwhile DJ/button pusher/super-stoked hypeman behind Girl Talk, somehow found a place in mash-up land where they can co-exist peacefully. Greg Gillis is the ur-hipster
The Red Hot Chili Peppers
In a parallel universe somewhere, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are taking the Coachella 2007 stage after 15 years of inactivity, embarking on a much-anticipated and triumphant reunion appearance on one of the country's biggest stages.
Ours is not that universe.