Part 1 here.

Sunday, the second and final day of Coachella, brought the same early wakeups and heat the first day had. Everyone had crashed fairly early the night before, and we'd had little time to exchange stories of what sets were best, what injuries were witnessed, and who we wanted to catch the next day. Luckily, we could head off into town again, for coffee and bathrooms, and to have these discussions. The day ahead appeared to be busier than the first, which was intimidating, especially since the weather was supposed to get at least 10 degrees hotter than it had been. But we were as ready as we could be, and we headed in early to catch Be Your Own Pet, who I had thought had one of the opening slots.

Turns out they weren't on until 1:00 so we wandered around, got our photo taken by Spin magazine at their booth, all the while I could hear this phenomenal band playing. They were instrumental, well, not even really instrumental, mostly chill-out DJ type beats, which I quickly fell in love with. I found out it was the Octopus Project, a band I'd never heard of before, but headed off to pick their album up at the Virgin store, which had surprisingly cheap CDs (and vinyl! Which I sadly had to resist). It was surprising to realize how many bands I didn't know that were playing, when I had been checking out the website months earlier dreaming up ways I could get myself to California I thought I had known the majority. But really, that ended up being one of the great factors of the entire experience, getting into so many new bands, either by just catching a bit of their set, or having people tell you about them. The same thing happened once we decided to mosey over to Be Your Own Pet's stage, a band whose energy was spilling out of their tent was playing. We got closer and saw three guys in all black, with red accents like ties or trim, rocking out harder than I thought possible in the heat. You couldn't watch them and not start moving yourself, their energy simply diffused into the crowd. These guys were the Infadels, and they played hard and fast, pumping out a mixture of electro, charged vocals and rock. We enjoyed the last bit of their set until we got over to Be Your Own Pet.

Be Your Own Pet hit the stage and pummeled right into their first song. The front woman Jemina had a real I-don't-give-a-fuck sort of attitude, possibly trying to be our generation's Joan Jett (but sans guitar). She danced until I thought she might fall over, thrashing her bleached blonde hair all over the place and dancing much like Thora Birch in the opening scene of Ghost World (maybe one person will know what I'm talking about here). Anyhow, the crowd didn't seem to feel them too much, me and two other girls I could see were really the only ones dancing, everyone else, including my less than pleased boyfriend, weren't too impressed. They're fairly young, with a garage, raw punk sound that they smooth out for some songs such as "Adventure." They're up and coming and fairly amateur which was obvious when drummer Jamin's kick pedal fell off several times during the set, while Jemina would try to cover with surprisingly ditzy-sounding jabber. Although I feel I'm being a little harsh about them, I really do love BYOP; I'm not sure if it's their fun punk vibe that reminds me of being 14, or their ridiculously easy to dance to and yell along with lyrics (see: "I'm an independent mother fucker!" off "Bunk Trunk Skunk"). Anyway, they finished their set with Jemina announcing "it was a dangerous song, so be careful," then her screaming for about a minute and half, dropping the mike and walking off stage.

Next up was Mates of State, a husband-wife duo, who integrate keyboard and drums together making the cutest (sickeningly cute, at times) tunes you've ever heard. They were very humble, Kori giggly like a school girl every time the fairly large crowd they'd pulled in would go crazy for them. They thanked us more times than I can count for coming out and would also continually remind us "they were Mates of State!" I always find it really great when bands remind you of their name in between every other song; it makes them seem so down-to-earth, which is always refreshing. They were playing a bigger stage so we were in the direct sun for their whole set, which made it drag on a little bit. They finished up with Jason coming out from the drum kit and serenading us with Kori's keyboard accompaniment, while he gripped the microphone with both hands and loomed over it. It reminded me of a nervous kid in grade 3 forced to sing the national anthem solo to a packed auditorium, his mannerisms were so shy and nervous.

After Mates we wandered over to see a bit of Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, but didn't hang around too long since the boyfriend wanted to get a decent spot to see Metric. Ted Leo had sounded pretty great, and afterward we heard nothing but good things about their set. Getting to a decent spot for Metric, I wasn't expecting too much, having seen Emily fall over the stage drunk enough times back in Toronto. But they came out, and we were both very pleasantly surprised. They didn't play too much off the newest album Live it Out, which I was pleased with, not being too fond of it. They delivered hits like "Combat Baby," "Monster Hospital," "Dead Disco" (in a killer extended dance version) and "Poster of a Girl." The crowd loved them, everyone was dancing, and I noticed it was one of the friendlier crowds we'd encountered over the weekend. It was most definitely one of the better sets of the weekend, with Emily thanking the crowd just before the last song for "cheering for the underdog" which was a sweet sentiment, but far from the truth when you look at the packed tent of adoring faces they were playing to.

Pleased from seeing Metric but the dance fest the weekend had turned out to be was beginning to drag us down a bit, we headed over to Sleater-Kinney. They played the main stage just as the sun set, which was a lovely sight to see, but the girls seemed a little less energized then I had expected. I didn't blame them with the heat and all, but by watching their faces on the big screens and the way they played really screamed "We wanna get the hell out of here!" to me. I thought it was great to see them though, being a long time fan, they were probably one of the first bands I got into when my interest in punk rock and feminism begin to bloom.

Staying at the main stage we made our way closer for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs to come out, which in the heat and tight crowd got a little unbearable so we made our way to the back. The set they played with essentially the same set I had seen a couple weeks earlier in Toronto, but I always love their performance. This was my boyfriend's first time seeing the Yeah Yeah Yeahs though, and it was nice to have someone to sway with during "Maps." After the YYY's fantastic set, we were beat. After getting some food, we ended up laying down in some shade and sleeping right through Massive Attack (whose set was almost too boring to be music sleep) but unfortunately also through a few bands I really wanted to see (The Go! Team, Mogwai and Coheed and Cambria). We also snoozed right through Madonna, who I would have liked to get a peek at just to be able to say "Oh yeah, I've seen Madonna!" Alas I later heard she played a four song set (after much technical difficulty delay) to approximately 30,000 people. Needless to say, I was glad I wasn't in that mess.

We woke up and shuffled forward through the masses to see Tool, who I've never really been a fan of, so didn't care to see at all. Their set was exactly what I expected from everything I've heard about Maynard's pretentious, asshole personality, but it was missing the really impressive performance aspect. I've heard about acrobats and crazy light shows, but we got big screens playing clips from their music videos. For me, it was more entertaining to watch ridiculous Tool fans, with them either doing crazy interpretive dancing or rocking out with their joints to "Sober." The one thing I was really blown away by was Maynard's voice, which sounded just like any recording of Tool I've ever heard. He didn't miss one note, which for a while convinced me maybe he was lip synching until I was informed apparently it was in a completely different key than the record was. Tool fans are fanatical, and it's this that has led me to determine Tool is our generation's Led Zepplin. So to me, this set was overly boring and got me quite ready for bed, until my boyfriend decided he'd had enough as well and we could skip off.

But during this Tool performance I'd been missing Art Brut, an amazing brit pop rock band that I had wanted to see really bad, but apparently Art Brut loses to Tool when it comes down to it. But I'm thinking maybe we'll be able to catch one last song, so we run over to their tent. To my surprise (very, very pleasant surprise) Art Brut had a number of songs to go, since they had their set pushed way back by yet again more difficulties and decided they weren't going to cut it short. From what I understand Coachella has tight rules about not performing past midnight, or else there are enormous fines, so bands must end at midnight or else.

But Art Brut being the young, zealous Brits they are kept going in a very punk rock fashion. After flipping off the stage manager who was frantically trying to wave them off stage after telling them they had one more song at the max, singer Eddie Argos informed the crowd they had three more songs! They even stopped "Emily Kane" for Eddie to interject and tell the story of how Emily heard the song and called him, which made him realize that he was no longer in love with her! He was simply in love with the idea of being in love at the age of 15! (Yes, all these exclamation marks are necessary for me to convey the energy Art Brut delivered!) The banter in between songs and stage presence they had was enough to have us laughing so hard we were crying and dancing our exhausted legs so fast they gave out from under us. With Eddie finally giving in to the man and heading off stage, the rest of the band continued playing, getting to the point where they were just making noise. Drummer Mikey continued to triumphantly flip off the stage manager and would do a mini drum roll then point to the audience who would go nuts. This went on back and forth for another five minutes or so, until they finally packed it in as well. Art Brut, even with the few songs we saw them perform, definitely stole the entire fucking show. And I can't wait to go back next year.