U2 was an hors d'ouevre to the longer Coachella. It was big—the biggest and best technology money can buy and there was not a bad seat in the house. The sound level was perfect: loud and enwombing, but not painful. Everyone sang every song. Sometimes the singing drowned out Bono.

Three days later, Coachella. Sick as a dog the whole fucking way. I wasn't sure I should go, but it would've been a lot of money to lose. So I drugged up and flew to Palm Springs, and it was miserable, both for the illness (disgusting Theraflu) and the concomitant personal conflicts. I was treated like a liability and was too sick to advocate for myself. Most of the weekend, I was too sick to speak. Being disregarded when you're sick reeks of fairweather relationships. Why the fuck would I want to invest any more energy in one of those?

That bullshit aside, I'm so glad I went.

Day 1: Peter Murphy of Bauhaus entered the stage upsidedown and sang the whole first song, Bella Lugosi's Dead, suspended that way. The swift desert wind shocked his white hair the entire set. At the end, almost gone from the stage, he turned and offered, "Now you can say you were there."

The Chemical Brothers were awesome live. You'd think not—I can't listen to an entire album without getting bored—but song after song was the best one and the crowd was high and energetic. We sat in the back of the tent among amazing glostick routines. Behind us, others made out or slept.

Day 2: New Order: Blue Monday live!! Nine Inch Nails: The NIN army showed up in black and fishnet and wings and not even breaking a sweat. The Prodigy: Somewhere in my fantasies I've always wanted to be immersed in a sweating mass of people listening to Minefields.

By far the best moment was when a swarm of bees flew through the tent where M.I.A. was playing. I was crashed out in the adjacent shade tent when screams and trampling shocked me awake and to my feet in seconds. Incredible how your systems of perception won't let you get trampled! While I was still disoriented, the crowd washing into the shade tent and disfiguring belongings, a goth chick stood on cue, extended a long pointing arm and shouted, "It's a swarm of BEEEEES!!" And sure enough, as she said that, the amoebic mass of the swarm careened over the sea of heads and disappeared from view.

Back in Seattle, things weren't the same. All music was more vivid and average people seemed more average for having not attended.

We'd missed Bloc Party at Coachella to see the whole Bauhaus set. The band's obviously being heavily promoted and we figured we'd catch them when they came around again. I hope they're getting something out of all that work. The album is solid and satisfying. It's to 2005 what Moby's Play was to 1999. This last weekend we drove to Vancouver to see their show at the Commodore Ballroom. It was sold out but we managed to score last-minute tickets on Craigslist. A great show. At one point some dude surfed onto the stage and belted out back-up. He knew all the words. Unfortunately, the sound was cranked and hurt my ears without earplugs. It's a shame that the whole goal of seeing something live is negated by having to stuff your ears with foam because some cheap-ass venue or engineer covers for a bad mix with excessive volume.