Maybe I've just come to Coachella too many times. Or maybe the bar for live bands was lowered while I wasn't looking or something, because there was a lot of "average" going on at the festival on Day 1. Ah, maybe I'm just still salty about the whole Aphex Twin debacle. Just DJing? Ugh. Seriously, Richard? You are so much better than that.

All the more reason to praise the spirit-lifting performance from '90s classic rockers the Verve. And yes, you read that right: classic rock. The epic, guitar-powered tunes this band has written are timeless, and should've made them the band from that decade that sold trillions of records even in America, and not those effing dork twins in Oasis (Noel and I official stopped being cool when he started talking smack about my brother Jay-Z).

They ran through all sorts of hits from their storied catalog: "Sonnet," "Weeping Willow," and the eternal "Lucky Man." How "Lucky Man" was never a huge, international hit is crazy. Were people just dumb in the '90s or what?

Still, the Verve will always have "Bittersweet Symphony," one of those incredible songs that never fails to give goosebumps with the swelling strings and Ashcroft's heartfelt lyrics. It was the big set-closer, and had even the casual observers waving their arms with the Verve diehards that were all over the place.

They did play two new songs (since "that's what this band is about," Ashcroft said from the stage). The first one was "Sit and Wonder," a rolling number that fits right along a majority of what the band has already done. But then they ended their set with another new song, this one more of a massive anthem in the line of "Bittersweet Symphony," only with a subtle electro edge and sped-up beat. Sadly, they didn't announce the title, but I'm confident it will show up on their upcoming album. Which means (hopefully!) a tour. I'd angling for a show or three at the Wiltern perhaps? Please and thank you!

—Scott T. Sterling 

As someone whose Prince obsession began at a very young age (thanks to an older brother that left copies of "Dirty Mind," "Controversy" and "1999" in my room when he moved out), I've seen him perform at least a dozen times. Each and every show has been nothing less than transcendental. The man is a musical legend for good reason. From his killer songwriting (I dare any band out there to write a song as simply perfect as “When You Were Mine”) to his string-shredding guitar mastery, which is still underrated in the “rock” world (dude plays better than most of the mooks I see on the cover of “Guitar Player”), there are few artists that can even come near his brilliance.

And for anyone that tries to throw his Warner Brothers contract obligation albums in the '90s up as evidence of his declining abilities, they can suck it. He still whips out killer tunes with ease (check out “Fury” from his last CD).

Regardless, his performance at Coachella tonight should effectively show and prove why he’s among the greatest artists of our generation, and instead of calling him the “black David Bowie,” I think it’s time to start calling Bowie the “white Prince.” Prepare for the Purple Person to make Day 3 of Coachella 2008 a moot point (unless you’re a hardcore old-schooler rolling joints and baking mushroom cookies in preparation for Roger Waters).

Let’s go crazy!

—Scott T Sterling 

For the record, I've seen Aphex Twin perform twice. Once was at an early '90s rave, where he shared the bill with the likes of Orbital and Vapourspace (10 points to whoever remembers Mark Gage!). Aphex Twin closed the show. Sitting on the floor behind a huge bank of weird, homemade-looking gear, he cleared the room in record time with the most amazing and abrasive barrage of electronic madness. The diehard 30 or so people (myself included) that were feeling it crowded around the stage in awe.

The second time I saw him perform, it was a showcase in New York, where he ran through a wide array of tunes from his catalog, with brightly colored dancing bears wearing the eerie "Aphex face" bouncing across the stage. Both performances were brilliant.

But when I fought everything from crappy traffic to getting lost in the endless maze that is the whole Indio/Palm Springs/Indian Wells area to see him play at Coachella this year, imagine my crushing disappointment to find him in a packed tent, listlessly spinning old house records. Where was the battery of analog gear? Where was "Xtal," "Windowlicker" or the eternal "Come to Daddy"? Sigh. It's ony the first day, and already one of the weekend's top acts was a total bust. Oh Richard, why have you forsaken me? At least there was the Verve...

—Scott T. Sterling