SpaceGhostPurrp doesn’t really scream Sunday brunch hour entertainment, but he and his crew Raider Klan were one of the acts to kick off Day 3 of Coachella. Yet, he, Key Nyata, and the whole lot of them sold the kind of menace that is better suited for a dark club than beaming sun rays and palm trees — although, Purrp is from Florida, so perhaps he was feeling right at home. The set, surprisingly, featured a dearth of tracks from his 4AD full-length Mysterious Phonk, really emphasizing that this was a group effort and not about him. The lone female member, Amber London, embodied the swagger that is imbued throughout her mixtape 1996 and this was especially apparent when she performed her track “Low MF Key.” Her stage presence was that of a lioness, the Raiders behind her like a pack ready to defend, but so confident in her abilities that they were just celebrating her strength. Three bros in varying frat-hippie attire, who were relatively unmoved most of the set, spit every single bar, throwing ‘bows from front to back. The set ended with “Suck A Dick (2012 Afterparty)” amended for the current year. There would be a lot to live up to for the rest of the day.

Young kids with early sets seemed to dominate a lot of the festival and it was no different for NYC’s DIIV in the Mojave tent. Last month, lead singer Zachary Cole Smith publicly dismissed SXSW, citing all the corporate sponsorship and short-and too-frequent sets as a smokescreen for branding. Here, the advertising is fairly minimal and it’s definitely the inverse of industry, a playground for people to dress up, reunite with festival friends, and shed real life for a weekend. Whether this is your bag or not, it was clear that DIIV were much happier here. The band played a strong and consistent set, Andrew Bailey offering up high-kicks during noodly riffs. Before closing with a vibrant rendition of “Doused,” which had Cole rolling on the stage, they played a new song. Perhaps it’s because they’re named after “Sliver” B-side “Dive” or that Cole resembles a smooth-skinned, young Kurt Cobain, but they jettisoned their easy, breezy vibes for the new cut and it felt more indebted to Nirvana than they ever have.

Jessie Ware took the stage afterward. Her performance style is all about precision: Her voice is strong, her bare feet moved nimbly across the floor, and she slapped her electronic equipment with purpose. Her on-stage charm is a force, as well. She dedicated the sort of-unreleased, Big Pun-sampling “Sweet Talk” to a fan who requested it via Twitter for his or her birthday and then exclaimed, “You should all be kissing now, for god’s sake!” after the first verse. She referenced the choreographed dance for “Imagine It Was Us,” but she didn’t know it, yet. But with her heed to her performance, it’ll be an impeccable piece of her live show.

Another woman brimming with fastidiousness is Grimes. It’s not often enough that she gets credited for leading the charge on the alt-pop movement. Maybe it’s because she looks like an art school nymph, that her lyrics deal with difficult topics, or because she is responsible for all the music in her live show. But as she dipped back and forth from behind her hardware, she swayed and danced like her idol Mariah Carey would, in between two back-up dancers — her enigma isn’t that she’s post-river adventure, it’s that she’s somehow able to finesse Manic Panic-haired DIY electronic warehouse music into prudent pop.

“Prudent pop” is probably an apt-descriptor for ATOW emeriti Tanlines. In a way, they are like Hall & Oates for the Brooklyn set — informed by rock, but weaving in ’80s pop and tropical elements to create a hybrid of genres that is distinctly their own. Jesse Cohen delivered the signature out-of-town, on-stage banter, re-introducing the band in between most songs, but his usual quipping was kept to a minimum, however stand-out it was (“It’s always been a dream of mine to play at the same time as Social Distortion and today that dream has been realized”). They closed out with an especially jammy rendition of Mixed Emotions lead single “All Of Me.” Before their set, someone had mentioned that they’re pretty much just a New York thing, but they had the packed tent hopping up and down, singing all the top of their lungs for that one.

Later in the day, Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds played the penultimate set on the main stage. When thinking about Grinderman, I said I wasn’t sure what is the part of the body that inspires theatrics in a person, but in Cave’s case, I think it might always be the crotch. That, or he has a dark place that is non-existent in most other people. It’s not evil, it just boasts a dark creativity. But there pretty much is nothing more bad ass than a group who has been doing this for damn near 30 years, still rocking the similar looks to day one, and performing such viciousness as “Stagger Lee.” The Bad Seeds had the Silverlake Conservatory Children’s Choir — which was founded by Coachella closer Flea — join them on stage for the opening and closing of the set. Before they ended with “Push The Sky Away,” Carl from Idolator asked me if I thought they knew anything about Nick Cave or what kind of dark arts they were performing in. I remembered that it was the same kid’s program (although, probably not the same kids) who were employed for backing vocals on the one record by Ryan Gosling’s Halloween-y band Dead Man’s Bones.

Seeing a children’s choir perform with long-timers like the Bad Seeds made the Raider Klan’s earlier appearance feel weirdly in line with Wu-Tang Clan’s set at the end of the night. Granted, the Raiders are a clique coming from a few different places, as opposed to Wu’s uniform Staten Island origins. Yet, their synergies are very similar — no one feels egregious, everyone feels supportive. But Wu’s been doing this for a long time. Enter The Wu: 36 Chambers will celebrate its 20th birthday this year (making it older than some of the members of Raider Klan) and the group performed its hits (“M.E.T.H.O.D. Man,” “C.R.E.A.M.”) and deep favorites (“Shame,” “Clan In Da Front”). When approaching “Shame” and “Protect Ya Neck,” they paid tribute to passed member Ol’ Dirty Bastard with so much love and graciousness. You think back to last year’s 2Pac hologram and feel how very gauche it was as you’re watching a bunch of grown men rap their fallen friend’s verse in unison, as if he’d just materialize back to life if they tried hard enough. The memorial continued with performances of “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” and “Brooklyn Zoo” in the solo cuts part of their set. It also included Raekwon’s “Ice Cream” and Method Man’s “Bring The Pain,” as well as “Da Rockwilder” from his collaborative album with frequent running dog Redman. Wu’s audience for the Outdoor Theater — the second biggest space at the festival — bled out into territory that could almost not be considered part of the viewing area anymore. It probably would have been smart to give them a headlining stint, since there was nothing but rock ‘n roll taking the main stage home each day. The closers could have used some variety and the Stone Roses’ crowd was almost minuscule for the size of the main stage. But that’s sort of the beauty of Coachella. It links old and new: lifers who have been at the festival forever and watched it grow with first-timers ready to make it a major part of their lives, as well. Bands who have been doing it for so long and they have already called it quits and are roping back in together for the festival and artists with receiving the first few accolades. So when I wondered earlier in the week who comes to Coachella, I think I have a better understanding now. Until next week.