I'm feeling far too fresh for the final day of festival fun so upon rising I make it my mission to get buck wild. Indeed, it's raining beers in no time and the pool party scene at the hotel is debauched and inspired.
It's hard to drag ourselves off the sun lounges but The Gaslight Anthem make it more than worth our while once we get through the gates. The guys are styling with nonchalant cool and Brian Fallon's vocals sound crisp and on point. There's plenty of love in the pit and finding a crew of New Jersey locals makes it even more special when singing along to anthems like American Slang and Great Expectations.
Our smuggled hip flasks are running dry by sets end so it's towards the poised bronze lions of the main bar to shower ourselves in cocktails and gin and tonic, enjoying the soothing sounds of The Lumineers from distance. Obviously, people are in attendance to hear Ho Hey but the band's swag of songs shows they are far from one-trick ponies.
Walking isn't the most enticing prospect by this stage but we can't miss a chance to rep one of Australia's most exciting groups of now, Tame Impala. There's horse headed scientists operating a lab in the middle of the field and lines of balloons are flapping wildly in the wind, mimicking the bowing palm trees behind the Outdoor Theatre. The Perth lads kick arse with a good mix provided from their two albums. Kevin Parker is making his guitar howl and Elephant causes some serious stomping. It's also become increasingly apparent that the kids in this part of the world will clap along to anything. Seriously, you could cough in a mic and get hands in the air.
In between all this Mike Ness and Social Distortion can be sporadically heard ripping through some no nonsense punk and kick out an inspired take of Johnny Cash's Ring Of Fire. Vampire Weekend follow on the Coachella main stage and after Social D seem pretty tame and safe. Holiday is still fucking fun, though.
There's more musical goodness from Down Under with dark lord Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds ruling it through the dust and drunken destruction. I felt pretty shitty missing Grinderman on Friday so it was good to get my Cave fix - the guy is an absolute beast. Wu-Tang Clan have left little of the stage beneath them right next door and get plenty of white people thinking they are far more gangster and real than their middle-class suburban upbringing would suggest.
But nothing can outshine Red Hot Chili Peppers playing a defining headline slot in their Golden State. The band are on fire tonight and seem as hungry as ever. The location gives even more poignancy to tracks like Otherside and Dani California, and a full field is losing their shit, people seemingly saving their rebel rouse for the last moments of Coachella 2013.
A final lap around the Polo Grounds gives us some beats from Eric Prydz and Disclosure, the latter getting a helping hand from fellow Brit Jessie Ware before dropping post-dub anthem Latch to screams of delight from all and sundry. And then it's all over, the reality of the festival's conclusion a pretty gutting sensation. News of Adam Scott's US Masters win calls for champagne showers back at the hotel, before wet, dirty and so very tired, we call a night on the desert sessions for one last time.
Thanks for the memories Coachella; you've been a magnificently generous bitch.
Pics by Ali Fraser.