No one's really interested in reading about the actual performances taking place on this musical ship of contradictions, the S.S. Coachella, amirite? Instead, you want a spoonful of gossipy anecdotal sugar, straight from the decks of this funny ship.
Photo by Liz Tracy Is that Jarvis Cocker? Nah ... Just Gaslamp Killer.
By Liz Tracy
As you might have seen, Pulp was the largest name at the top of the S.S. Coachella flyer. The band played almost two power hours on Sunday night, making cruisers swoon with Anglophilic adoration. But Jarvis Cocker -- the man whose name was being whispered all around the ship -- didn't sit in his room or hide out like James Murphy (the chupacabra of the boat, whom I have only spotted offstage).
No, Cocker made his way around the ship on Tuesday to watch other acts. He appeared to be wearing the same mud-colored suit he donned during Monday's performance. But it, well, suited him. His hair messy, sipping a drink, in oversized glasses, Jarvis appeared to be having a reserved sort of good time.
He was spotted watching Warpaint. Hands down, one of the best all-female groups I've ever seen live. I am a full-on Chuck-wearing, cat-owning feminist. But too often, women, especially really pretty ones, like those in Warpaint, get away with making subpar rock 'n' roll. Sure, men make a bunch of crap too. But just saying, these ladies were fantastic and beautiful.
In fact, during the Black Lips' totally not-in-any-way-boring set, I had to use the restroom. Dancing my way to the john, it was clear that I wasn't still bopping' to the music. One of the frontwomen of Warpaint nicely and jokingly (sorta) suggested I pee in the sink or even use the men's room. A gal after my own heart! Luckily, the cruisers are polite and I skipped the line, even making it back in time to hear the Lips play "Bad Kids."
Not long after, James Murphy invited the crowd to join him onstage in the Silhouette Theater. Cocker didn't get up there with the masses. He simply sipped his drink and watched the goofy moves from a safe distance. Murphy made my heart melt and my bum move with a cover of "Harvest Moon." I was about to leave at a certain point, only to literally ran back to dance to Deee-lite. Hats off, Mr. Murphy!
