No details on how the 40,000 broke down over the two days, but the guess here is it was roughly 20,000 apiece Saturday and Sunday. One difference: Saturday’s crowd seemed more consistent throughout, where Sunday’s showed up later, much of it arriving in time to see Muse and Rage Against the Machine after nightfall.

Edit: Public Enemy, Daft Punk, Umphrey’s McGee, Umphrey’s late-night, STS9, STS9 late-night, The Shins, Atmosphere, UNKLE, Blonde Redhead, Ghostface Killah, Cypress Hill and Infected Mushroom also all now up for download.

The Vegoose-at-night show, which closed out the band’s 2007 U.S. tour schedule, saw the quintet peppered with red roses - and one pair of Wonder Woman panties - from an adoring crowd.

Oh, and Mercer revealed he and his mates were dressed as androids at the festival proper, though no word as to which specific androids inspired the attire (nor what those odd screeching sounds were meant to convey).

4. Animated bar owner Moe…second row at moe.

3. A lighter

2. A keg

1. Either Kirk Hammett dressed as himself, or a guy who pulled off a really, really convincing Kirk Hammett

It was odd that frontman Zack de la Rocha didn’t indulge in any political speeches (as he did at the band’s first reunion gig at Coachella back in April), but as someone who’s always preferred the band’s music over their politics, I found de la Rocha’s reticence refreshing. The set list was a nice mix of songs from the band’s three studio albums, and there was even a short, impromptu jam that hinted at the possibility of new material to come. It’s been almost six months since the Coachella gig without any word of a full tour or a new album, so even that small taste was enough to offer hope - especially since I expect the reunion to fall apart at any moment.

I had been tempted to wear my Audioslave T-shirt just for fun, but the preponderance of aggressive shirtless dudes made me glad I didn’t; I wasn’t really in the mood for a beat-down. Instead I got an energetic and accomplished (if a little short; the band played for less than 80 minutes) rock show, exactly what I was hoping for, and a good way to make up for what I missed back in the day. (Full set list after the jump.)

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The same thing happened at Vegoose, sadly. The opening trio of tunes — “Knights of Cydonia,” “Hysteria” and “Supermassive Black Hole,” each one more full of gigantic riffs and theatrical vocals than the next — whipped the crowd into a frenzy. Vocalist/guitarist/pianist Matt Bellamy donned a natty red suit (Halloween duds? Signs are unclear: Muse’s drummer was Spider-man, the bassist in a suit as well) that made him bizarrely resemble the Riddler from Batman. Especially when he started jumping around the stage lithely, doing exaggerated guitar-soloing gestures and mock-shooting the instrument as if it were a gun.

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However, I suspect it wasn’t residue from the California fires drifting our way. Instead, judging by the insane haze hovering over the Umphrey’s McGee crowd — seriously, it looked like a chemical spill or the dust surrounding the Peanuts character Pigpen — the clouds of smoke from various substances both illegal and legal seemed to be the culprit.

Impressive. Or something.

I’m pretty sure that the Alice Cooper, Willie Nelson and Mr. T. get-ups were reasonable facsimiles. But as I was sitting in the guest tent before Rage Against the Machine, this long-haired dude sporting sunglasses, mild facial hair and an all-black ensemble caught my eye. Was that Metallica’s Kirk Hammett?

I nudged Julie, as she thought the same thing. We watched him fumble with the Port-a-Potty door, go, leave and then come back and engage some guy waiting in line — who proceeded to shake his hand and do a little “right on!” gesture. Which perplexed us further. Could that be Kirk? Hanging out with the commoners before joining the fray for Rage?

We still don’t know.

2. Muse

1. The Stooges & M.I.A. (tie)

* Forgive Me, Special Place

Right as Muse kicked off their set around 10 minutes late with “Knights of Cydonia,” a tall, hulking dick of a man in a blue bandanna sporting a white shirt cornered a kid in front of me and my girlfriend. “Hey you fucker, no fucking cutting!” he screamed to the clearly 16-year-old kid. The kid rebuffed like a wise-ass, only to have this testosterone-laden jerk threaten him with a cup of his own urine, claiming he would pour it on the kid’s head if he passed him. The kid walked off, but Bro McBrosky hadn’t had his fill of playing amateur bouncer and professional dickhead. Throughout Muse’s set as fists were pumping in the air and the constant surges towards the front of the stage, McDouchebag continues to stop kids from cutting in front of him threatening with an ole one-tow if they cut. This went on through the whole set until someone grabbed the jerk and pushed from his advancement of three-people away from the front, to nearly in the back of the crowd. Everyone around was happy as they all collectively seemed to think “See you around, dick.” In unison

But once McBrowsky was gone, the wild crowd began to jump, shift, move and trample over anything and everything. I lost my girlfriend in the crowd, leaving all 90 lbs. of her to battle for her life in the mass. I repeatedly had my neck and back jabbed, punched and elbowed in throughout the duration of the set leaving me battered and sore. My girlfriend almost had her ankle broken by a guy who decided to balance himself by putting his size 9 foot on her 4 inch diameter ankle and there were moments when I thought I would be trampled by the sea of people.

But in the end, as Muse winded down their set, their songs had become a blur inside of the crowd. I was convinced I was going to die or have my shoulder broken … but in the state of chaos, I was perfectly fine with that. Because if you can say you had a bone broken during a performance as awesome as Muse’s was tonight, that is something that honestly you could brag about all the way to the emergency room.

What I saw/heard were loud, frenetic metal riffs. Speedy vocals. A crowd totally whipped into a frenzy. A festive, intense atmosphere.

In short, it felt totally like a Trans-Siberian Orchestra show.

Had psychedelic soul-brothers the Verve not recently announced they were getting back together, UNKLE would have easily picked up that band’s slack. Its amazing Vegoose set — its first time ever in the U.S. performing with a full band, mind you — frequently conjured the Verve’s ambient soundscapes and woozy space-rock. Heck, UNKLE’s performance of “Lonely Soul” — the original version features Verve singer Richard Ashcroft — made me migrate closer to the stage, as I could have sworn Ashcroft was there reprising his role. (He wasn’t.)

As is his wont, UNKLE head honcho James Lavelle employed a rotating cast of vocalists to emote over bass, drum, synths, guitar and dual DJs. Frankly, this band simultaneously blew me away and made me bliss out, thanks to its electro-grooves and propulsive dance beats. New tunes such as “Morning Rage” — from War Stories, and described by the band as a good one to listen to while imbibing drugs — stood on their own as fantastic rave-ups.

A series of vertical, narrow LED lights scattered around the stage flashed throughout the set; coupled with some artsy videos, they added to (and created) the celestial experience.
I couldn’t help but close my eyes and dance as the music surged around from all directions, it was that propulsive and all-encompassing.

The performance made so-called nu-rave bands look like complete amateurs. A pleasant surprise, this set was probably my favorite performance of day two.

But the Rage I saw at Vegoose bore little resemblance to that time. For starters, their music was harsh and ugly. (Not that Rage’s music is meant to be pretty, but there were distinctly unsettling undertones, as if the earnestness of the band had been stripped away and replaced by something more sinister.) The volume was simply eardrum-bursting, even from far away. This lead to extremely distorted guitar and bass tones, which caused piercing squalls that made the set uncomfortable to listen to. And Zack de la Rocha’s vocals, while always an acquired taste, were even more nasally. (And how has it escaped notice that he sings like Mike Tyson talks? Am I alone on this?) While musically awe-inspiring — the time the Rage instrumentalists spent in Audioslave has certainly kept them tight — the shuddering riffs and rhythms were almost frightening in scope.

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Of course, singer/guitarist Aaron Behrens’ magnetic charisma didn’t hurt matters either. The lanky vocalist — sporting two long braids, tight blue jeans and a black T-shirt with Jesus’ visage — was utterly mesmerizing. He strutted with the peacock-proud ease of Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler, with healthy doses of cocky chicken struts, robot-funk and rubbery-limbed acrobatics thrown in for good measure. The second song, Ghostland’s “hit” “Sad, Sad City” benefited greatly from his persona.

And in fact, the two-piece actually became less interesting when Behrens played the guitar on other songs. With keyboardist/drummer Thomas Ross Turner stuck behind his synthesizer/sampler like a priest in a pulpit (in the spirit, he sported a festive cape with a purple cross on it, ostensibly for Halloween), the burden falls on Behrens to make Ghostland’s show interesting. And for the most part, their stage presence was much, much more interesting than other duos. Members of the crowd bobbed their heads appropriately, and shook their moneymakers to Ghostland’s righteous jams.

1. Percussionist Jim Loughlin officially has the Busiest Mouth at Vegoose, rocking a toothpick, gum and his tongue like a maniac. Perhaps moe. should consider handing him a harmonica at next practice?

2. For being a non-hip-hop outfit, dudes like their bass. Brain-exploding, marrow-jarring, bowel-loosening, sonic-depth-charge-in-the-Mariana-Trench-caliber bass.

3. Guitarist/keyboardist/vocalist Al Schnier currently looks pretty damn exactly like Weekly music editor Spencer Patterson. Same beard, same checkered button-down, same monochrome ballcap. You know, I never *have* seen the two of them in the same place at the same time…

That’s what they’ll tell ya, anyway, and based on Sunday’s hour and a half, I’d be inclined to agree: Umphrey’s McGee is a *community* band. A people-watching band. A costume-appreciation band. Somehow the proggy jams just can’t hold attention like a audience-wide haze of fragrant smoke and a sea of woven blankets. Pink clouds streak the sky as the sun sets, the stage lights and pumpkin-balloon walkway globes come alive, and, oh yeah, there’s a tight instrumental emanating from the stage, but damned if that guy dressed as a lighter…and that Oompa Loompa…and that guy who may be Bono or may just always cop the look…are tops in terms of fascination.

The merry band of four opened Sunday’s Snake Eyes Stage dressed in full pirate regalia and admirably remained in character the entire 45-minute set. Singer/keyboardist Zach Gill informed “I may be weak from scurvy / But my peg leg still gets scurvy” during the oh-so-fitting “Pirates of Rock,” tossed “When I’m dropped off at Vegoose, I’m a Vegeese” into “Shapeshifter” and said of a seasonal-themed, strangely sensual ditty called “Rotting Pumpkin,” “Yar, that be a holiday classic!” The highlight: many hooks were thrown in the air and waved around in a non-caring manner when Gill chanted, “All the pirates in the house, say ‘Arrgh!’”

Also, any of the security guards and workers I encountered were incredibly pleasant, nice and helpful — whether directing me where to go or simply making things easier for me. (I walk with a cane.) This hasn’t always been the cases at other festivals I’ve been to, so the friendliness of the people helping out was duly noted and much, much appreciated.

Even so, Cypress Hill’s set was wildly uneven. (Truth be told, I don’t think I was high enough — read: not at all — to appreciate the tunes.) The deep, west-coast hip-hop bass shudders and B-Real’s nasally vocal flow were monotonous and grating after awhile, respectively; “Dr. Greenthumb” in particular kept on going and going. And going.

However, seminal Cypress songs such as “I Ain’t Goin’ Out Like That” and particularly “Insane in the Brain” — which might be one of the best singles of the 1990s — were excellent. And when the band launched into the distinctive xylophone-melody line of “(Rock) Superstar” (a definite highlight) there was a huge mass exodus from the Public Enemy stage toward Cypress Hill’s — whether by design or not, I couldn’t tell.

However, after seeing the hip-hop globetrotter live, I had a new appreciation for her albums, which haven’t captured her restless concert energy and spunky stage presence. Sporting a gray baggy shirt and leggings — an ’80s-vibed outfit that matched the 8-bit graphics on the video screen behind her — she skipped and sassed her way across the stage, performing songs from 2007’s Kala and 2005’s Arular. (Plus, the mash-up of New Order’s “Blue Monday” for a few bars on a song was also fantastic.)

And for all her political flag-waving and heavy topics covered in song, M.I.A.’s music live is pure fun. During “Bird Flu,” she encouraged people to come up onstage. Folks poured in from the floor and sides, filling the entire performance area and causing her to say “Stop the people, the stage is shaking!” The machine-gun-reminiscent beats oddly matched the joyous, unrestrained dancing of the revelers, who crowded around M.I.A. as she performed.

The powers-that-be actually stopped the show after to make everyone leave the stage, pleading that M.I.A. couldn’t continue until everyone left. But that little break caused most to miss the final song (”Galang”), as the masses migrated to Queens of the Stone Age, who had just started…