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Got a bit lost en route to the festival yesterday. We took a different route and ended up literally in the desert on a two-lane road with tumbleweed and sand either side and not much else. Major Thelma and Louise moment. Made it to the Motorola camp in time to chat with Klaxons, the New Pornographers, Grizzly Bear and Ratatat, who were definitely one of the buzziest bands at the festival. The singer was sweet. And can we just talk about The New Pornographers for a second and how one of them was in Zumpano, who basically provided the template for The Shins? If you like The Shins, remember this is who they want to be.

At one point we were walking from the outer edges of the carpark to the main stage and out of nowhere we heard a distant ‘Wooooaaaah’ – yup Kaisers are here and they’ve brought their woah’s with them. Ran like the wind to catch some, and then made our way to Klaxons who were fucking AMAZING. Checked out some of Crowded House, which was a bore, we’re sad to report so we bounced back to see Lily Allen and then hung around for Ratatat but the dudes and gals smoking weed behind us made us feel a little ill.

Stopped by Kaisers dressing room and Ricky said he’d just missed out on having his picture taken with Cameron Diaz. Kings Of Leon were still hanging around, and guess what they were doing? Yup. talking to models. Lindsay Lohan (braless) was hanging out in CSS’s little picketed fence area, right next to Klaxons’ of course, and James grabs us and his bag of weed and tells us where the afterparty’s at.

So we head to South Beach nightclub in Palm Desert and it’s the craziest nightclub we’ve ever been. It’s a semi-strip joint kind of vibe with the most ridiculous fake boobs we’ve ever seen, and a patterned carpet. There’s around ten people there, including Lily Allen, Klaxons, Mark Ronson and Lindsay Lohan.

Lohan decides she wants to hook up with James Klaxons and after she gets kicked out for being underage, she sends her security guard back to find James who tells him “Lindsay wants to say goodbye”.

He should have said “Lindsay wants to take you back to her hotel room and do rude things to you”, cos she tried to lure little James back with her. He said no. She sent him a billion text messages. Everyone laughed.

The night ended with us sipping champagne in a hot tub with Jamie Klaxons in a seriously fancy house in a gated community in Rancho Mirage. Can’t think of a better way to clean three days of desert dust off one’s feet. Coachella, it’s been hot.

NME.COM has been at the festival in the Desert for Coachella 2007, with performances from a host of artists including Rage Against The Machine, Bjork, Arctic Monkeys, Happy Mondays, Jesus and Mary Chain and more.

"Are you guys The Kooks? You're my daughter's favourite band!"
Courtney Love

So we've made it through three scorching days of Coachella, and aside from the odd hangover, a touch of heatstroke, and Scarlett Johansson and Cameron Diaz nearly running over our friend Simon from the Klaxons in a golf cart, we all got out relatively unscathed.

It's now 2:30 am and I'm a bit delirious after three days of traipsing across the California desert. I'm also covered in three inches of dust and have calves of steel. Today's high points included CSS and Klaxon's back-to-back assault in the Mojave tent, chatting with Emily Haines of Metric who I'd have a huge crush on if I were an indie boy, and seeing fellow NME scribe Dan Martin dance his ass off with Happy Mondays. It's hard to think of a finer ending.

Laura Ferreiro

Fuck me. At what point did Rage Against the Machine become the biggest band since Sliced Bread? Seriously, today Coachella stopped, America paused, the globe cotched - God's galaxy just chilled out for a moment while Zack De La Rocha and crew took charge.

Of course actually seeing anything was out of the question as 50,000 frat boy quasi date rapists in backwards caps and elephant trousers were all standing in my way. Bastards.

Before they played I was a little bit cynical. Basically if the phrase 'Rock/Rap pioneers' can be applied to your band then it's fair to say
that you should be eaten out by a pack of wolves. Buuut, after hearing various unfounded rumours about Zack shooting guns at facist yankie cunts I decided they must be the best band ever.

Before my rebirth as a Nu Metal champion I spent the day in my more natural guise of new rave psychophant. Dear God CSS were incredible today. They played a new track called 'Yeager Yoga' which basically sounds like New Young Pony Club at an ironic sex disco. They're all so cool and i've got a major crush on Ira, but according to her wikipedia, she's married - so that sucks. But tonight was as good as I've seen the band since their second British show in Camden back in July.

Klaxons were ace an all, I've seen them better, but the crowd were well up for it, especially some bald lothario who was chatting up one of my pretty friends.

We toyed with the idea of hitting the YoYo party where Klaxons, Lily Allen, Lindsay Blowhan and my mate Iph were heading, but, confronted by a million miles of metal fans to drive through we went back to the hotel and are now polishing off DJ Mehdi's Champaign, which we nicked yesterday.

Oh: plus, NME scribe Dan Martin danced onstage with Happy Mondays today. It was incredible, check it out on his blog here come tomorrow. It's the best thing ever. He's a hero.

Anyway - back to London tomorrow. Back to sexually abusing rock star corpses until it's time for Neighbours

Peace out

Alex Miller