With one weekend down and one to go, Coachella 2013's pretty much in full swing. That means your Instagram/Twitter/Facebook/Vine/Everything feeds are spewing enough concert weirdness/pool party/desert vacation pics to trigger your own quest for revenge by seeking out the best live shows here to make up for the fact that you aren't there.
Here are four ways to ease your aches and pains:
Don't let their almost-full-blown-mainstream status deter you from forking over the cash for this show; Baltimore heroes Beach House still deliver one of the most gorgeous performances in the game today. Vocalist/key master Victoria Legrand and guitarist Alex Scally never half-ass a single verse or chorus, and somehow make each spacious, free-floating, commanding and immersive song sound big enough to get completely lost in. No doubt you've heard their latest LP Bloom a few times over (we fell hard for it last year), but in case you needed a reminder, here you go:
While the world waits for Nine Inch Nails to crawl out of its dark hole, it must make do with the sounds of Trent Reznor's other machine-born band, How to Destroy Angels–and that's not a bad bargain. Reznor's band with his wife Mariqueen Maandig, regular collaborator Atticus Ross and visual artist Rob Sheridan isn't some Nine Inch Nails retread, but a whole new beast that's just as immersive as its creator's original project. Whether it's as compelling remains to be seen. The band's newest album Welcome Oblivion, a slab of atmospheric instrumentals, soft expanses of industrial sound, grinds, chirps, tinges of exotica, and Maandig's whispery, come-hither croons poses many more musical questions than it answers, but asserts itself as something that's best taken in in person–you'll want to feel that low end in your guts and let the lights and sights scramble your brain rather than take it in as a 2D experience through headphones.
When you lay the needle on a King Khan & BBQ Show record, you might think it was something your mom might've played a little too loudly in her own bedroom back in the 60s. But the deeper you get, you'll realize this band doesn't only deal in that dusty record shop relic charm, thanks to their sly mix of soul, punk, and even doo wop spliced into each little slice of sound. And things get taken to crazy new levels when you see this Canadian duo live; despite their barebones set up King Khan, a wild man born to be on stage, shows a lot of skin and wails and moves like a garage-dwelling James Brown for the 21st Century, while Mark Sultan's angelic, Sam Cooke-esque pipes and guitar style are enough to get any audience in full shakedown mode.
This is the kind of band that we have a feeling wouldn't be caught dead at Coachella–and that's why we love 'em. SF post punk purveyors Wild Moth are known for dissolving their audience into sweating, shin-kicking, crowd-surfing maelstroms, fueled by temple-destroying drums and sludgy, melodic guitars lines. Pack into Bottom of the Hill, expect to dodge flailing elbows, and revel in this anti-Coachella camaraderie. Marijuana optional (it is 4/20 after all).