I was so over Coachella for a variety of reasons, I inadequately summarized my experience according to some avid readers. So here we go with the best and the worst of the weekend. May it help those of you headed into weekend 2. 
Chalk it up to nostalgia, but the Violent Femmes were my favorite act of the entire festival. Their playlist included everything I could have wished for and more. They kept it moving and they kept it tight. 
The most unexpectedly enjoyable set was Jello Biafra who ranted his hypocritically anti-corporate message on the unabashedly corporate-sponsored Coachella stage without any sense of irony. 
Everybody splooged over The Postal Service. Maybe it’s the residual Deschanel, but that band is just so precious and twee. I love Jenny Lewis, but I love her more in other projects. Ben I can take or leave. 
Phoenix executed in a major way, but there was something so polished about the performance it almost felt simulated. The random of edition of R. Kelly was surprising for sure. As was Solange’s cameo with The xx, but Coachella needed to squeeze extra diversity wherever possible in their ultra-white lineup this year. 2013 lacked flavor for sure. 
As for the Chili Peppers, Anthony Kiedis is the Keanu Reeves of rock music. He’s a douche de la fromage. Flea rules. 
What most of us are thinking…
Long time readers (smooch!) know Alison Mosshart gets shine here at Demeter Clarc. After gorging on The Kills new record Blood Pressures, brace for full on gush. 
Many standout moments sprinkle the eleven song record including: Satellite, Heart is a Beating Drum, DNA, Baby Says, and culminating with new road rage anthem You Don’t Own The Road.
At first, I didn’t love Shakira’s new album Sale El Sol, but after five or six listens, it really started to grow on me. Typically, I prefer my Shakira obsessed and tormented rather than optimistically cheerleading for Africa (Waka,Waka, yo).
Personally, I think the title track, Sale El Sol, a mid-tempo snooze-fest, is the weakest of the album. Devoción is the album highlight among a few other strong selections (Antes De Las Seis, Rabiosa).
Now let’s talk about Shakira’s cover of the XX’s Islands. Loyal readers (gracias!) know that we majorly heart the XX here at Demeter Clarc, and frankly Shakira’s version is no where near as good as the original. Since the xx came out less than a year and a half ago, I don’t see the point of this unnecessary and not particularly inspired cover.
One other small complaint: of fifteen songs, the last four are remixes of songs that appear earlier on the record. So between the cover and the one-song-two-ways gimmick, Sale El Sol definitely contains some empty calories.
Sorry for the delay on this; it was released a year ago. Not really sure how it slipped through the butt crack, but 2010 can be the year of The XX in the US. Procure XX by The XX immediately. Need an extra nudge? This one is Karl Lagerfeld approved.
Their sound, brimming with dichotomies, is at once familiar and new, atmospheric and intimate, feminine and masculine. Think Cat Power paired with Pete Yorn singing over Radiohead, and then subtract fifteen years. The XX is sadly one of the few examples I can think of where a male and female vocal pairing strengthens rather than diminishes the overall sound.
Strong composition and musicality backs up the interesting vocal arrangements. The XX ain’t no one trick pony; the whole record is worth your time. The down tempo vibe may annoy some, but critics need to puff a doobie and relax. This is the good shit. 