I was supposed to get up at 9:00 AM to make it to the Continental Club by 9:30 for jalapeno pancakes and bloody Marys at Mojo Nixon’s party. Every year, if you accomplish this miraculous feat, they give you a sticker or a button that says “9:30” so you can brag about your dedication. I woke up before my alarm went off and felt like death. So I decided I didn’t need the bragging rights, texted Vic to let him know I likely wouldn’t make it and rolled over to go back to sleep. But again, God tried to punish me, and I just tossed and turned for another hour and a half. I finally got up at 10 AM and wandered out to unusually harsh Austin weather. It was only slightly above 40 degrees and there was a major wind storm with gusts up to 45 MPH. It was fucking brutal.
It’s difficult to get a cab in Austin in good conditions and nearly impossible during SXSW. And it’s a long walk from my hotel on Sixth and I-35 down to the Continental, which is on South Congress. So I walked down to Congress, thinking it would easier to find a cab there, and still had to stand on the street for ten minutes before anyone stopped.
I made it in time to catch a few songs by Elizabeth Cook, an adorable country singer who did a tap dance in the middle of one of her songs. Cook is a charming and funny songwriter (listen to “Sometimes It Takes Balls to Be a Woman”), and I wished that I had gotten there on time to see her entire set.
After Elizabeth Cook, Steve Poltz took the stage and delivered a highly entertaining set of folk rock, punctuated by hilarious stories and comedic bits involving his iPhone. Poltz has an almost vaudevillian quality, singing, dancing and telling jokes in a somewhat old-timey fashion, but he has so much energy and such a youthful appearance that I couldn’t believe it when he announced he’d just had his fiftieth birthday.
Next up on Mojo’s bill were the Mighty Stef. I consciously didn’t go out of my way to see any bands that I saw last year (a decision I ultimately regretted after hearing Cherie Currie joined Girl in a Coma onstage), but I made an exception for the Mighty Stef. And once again, they put on a killer show.
I mostly hung around my hotel for the rest of the afternoon, resting my legs and avoiding the cold. I didn’t venture out again until about 5 PM to ship some stuff home at the Fed Ex store and grab some dinner. Again, the frigid walk down to Congress had me muttering “Jesus fucking Christ!” constantly under my breath.
I had planned on jumping from venue to venue Saturday night, but the cold kept me planted at the Second Motion showcase, where I met Vic. That turned out to be a fine situation, as I caught The Walls, Gemma Ray and Marty Wilson Piper.
Both The Walls and Gemma Ray seemed to be about making the most they could out of limited resources. The Walls are a duo from Dublin that play with a backing track. Normally, I would be a bit snobbish about musicians playing with pre-recorded tracks, but The Walls took a novel approach: they created a video of their “band” playing the songs and projected it on a large screen behind them. They even incorporated bits of between song banter. It was very well done and highly entertaining.
Gemma Ray was a solo act and used microphone loops and sampling pedals to layer her sound on-stage. Her music was great and reminded me of early PJ Harvey, down to the dramatic dynamic shifts, but her Suicide Girl stage persona was a bit much. She had a hacksaw hanging from her mic stand, and when she lunged to the front of the stage and planted a huge knife in the flooring, sneering at the crowd, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Marty Wilson Piper, not surprisingly, delivered a solid set of tender, intricate songs, despite looking remarkably like Ted Kaczynski these days.
I finally decided to brave the cold to catch Mad Juana, Sami Yaffa’s band, down Sixth Street. They had a great gypsy punk vibe not unlike Gogol Bordello.
For the final show of the night, I decided to check out what was supposed to be the Big Star show but, since he’d passed away on Wednesday, had been reshaped as a tribute to Alex Chilton with the remaining members of Big Star, Mike Mills, John Doe, Evan Dando, and M. Ward.
It was a fine show, heartfelt and alternately celebratory and melancholy. I won’t write much about it, since there are lots of recaps on the Web that do it more justice than I could. Despite really enjoying the music, I was fighting fatigue and after nearly falling asleep on my feet, decided to head back to the hotel about 20 minutes early. I couldn’t even bring myself to pack and went right to bed, falling asleep instantly.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Friday
I hauled myself out of bed around noon to get over to the convention center in time to catch the CBGB's panel, which included Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth from Talking Heads, Clem Burke from Blondie and Seymour Stein and Richard Gottehrer, founders of Sire Records. It didn't seem as though anyone but Burke or Gottehrer had actually prepared at all, so the stories tended to wander off track into less interesting talk about management companies or New York restaurants. More of a problem was that Gottehrer, who was attending the panel remotely via Skype, got dropped about every 30 seconds, leading to some incredibly frustrating moments as he'd get cut off just as he was getting to the climax of a story. Overall, the panel was still pretty interesting. Frantz had a great anecdote about walking into CB's in an LL Bean jacket in the winter to have David Johansen tell him (affects Staten Island accent), "Chris, rock stars don't dress for the weath-ah." Also, when asked about the Dead Boys, Tina shivered and said, "Cheetah was bad." I wonder if she knew he was in town? In any case, Clem quickly came to Cheetah's defense and declared him "totally reformed."
After the panel, I walked up to Club Deville to watch Nicole Atkins, whom I'd met briefly the night before at the Batusis show. She sounded great and had a large and enthusiastic crowd.
Later in the afternoon, I spent some time at the record and poster show at the Convention Center (and somehow managed not to buy anything) before making the long, long trek out to Cheapo Records to catch another set by the Batusis. After their show, Sylvain and Cheetah, despite clearly being exhausted, stuck around to sign autographs and pose for pictures. Getting to meet those two legends was a highlight for me. For someone who's into punk rock, it's like meeting Keith Richards and Pete Townsend in the same afternoon.
I stopped for some Korean Tacos on the way back to my room. If, like me, you're thinking, "Korean tacos? That sounds like it could be good," let me tell you, it's not.
From there, I saw Band of Skulls and Jimmie Dale Gilmore at the Palm Door. Both were excellent, and I know this word is overused when talking about rock 'n' roll, but Band of Skulls set really should be described as blistering. My face was melted.
I saw a dude standing by the bar and thought, "that looks likeRobert David Fricke." (update: Thanks to the assholey anonymous commenter that called me out for this mistake.) Then Gilmore announced that the show was the Rolling Stone showcase, so I guess it probably was. Sadly, I had to leave before John Doe started his set so I could catch Elk City.
On the way to the Elk City show, a homeless man followed me for four blocks talk-spitting in my face while shouting (admittedly, entertainingly) conspiracy theories. I should probably get a hepatitis test.
Elk City was fantastic, and they played my favorite song of theirs "You Got Me," which made me smile and dance. Or that might have been the whiskey that made me dance. Either way, it was a great time. I was initially interested in the band because of Sean Eden's involvement, but Elk City is so different from Luna that any comparisons fall away immediately. Eden is a masterful guitarist and hops between styles with ease. Vocalist/songwriter Renee LoBue is equally flexible, sometimes channeling the power of Siouxsie, other times the pop charm of Moe Tucker. Sean and Renee chatted with me for a bit after the set and were very tolerant of my drunken rambling.
I then caugt a bit of Audra Mae's set. I had interviewed Audra for Spinner and really dug her music. She didn't disappoint live and commanded the room with just her voice and guitar.
From there, I went to the Jail Guitar Doors show. Lots of fun stuff going on there. Jail Guitar Doors is a charity founded by Billy Bragg that attempts to rehabilitate inmates through music. Wayne Kramer is heading up the American version, and Friday's show also featured Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly; Chris Shiflett from the Foo Fighters; and Tom Morello. Mike Mills also showed up to do a killer version of Neil Young's "Ohio" with Wayne Kramer on guitar. I never would have guessed Mills could deliver such an angry song with conviction (he always seems so mild-mannered in R.E.M.), but man, he's got some rage. Speaking of Rage, Tom Morello's new band, Street Sweeper Social Club did a couple of songs, including a cover of "Mama Said Knock You Out", and though I didn't expect to like them, they were really good. The show ended with Bragg, Kramer and all their guests doing "Kick Out the Jams." It rocked so hard that I forgave Wayne Kramer for being such a whiney pussy at last year's festival.
There had been all kinds of rumors about who would show up at this event- everyone from Lemmy to Cheap Trick to Slash. I have to admit, it was kind of fun watching the people who'd just shown up to see Slash get more and more disappointed as the night went on and he never appeared.
Also, did you know that the song "Jail Guitar Doors" mentions Wayne Kramer? Don't feel bad, according to Billy Bragg, Mick Jones didn't know either. But it's the first verse:
Let me tell you 'bout Wayne and his deals of cocaine
A little more every day
Holding for a friend till the band do well
Then the D.E.A. locked him away
After the panel, I walked up to Club Deville to watch Nicole Atkins, whom I'd met briefly the night before at the Batusis show. She sounded great and had a large and enthusiastic crowd.
Later in the afternoon, I spent some time at the record and poster show at the Convention Center (and somehow managed not to buy anything) before making the long, long trek out to Cheapo Records to catch another set by the Batusis. After their show, Sylvain and Cheetah, despite clearly being exhausted, stuck around to sign autographs and pose for pictures. Getting to meet those two legends was a highlight for me. For someone who's into punk rock, it's like meeting Keith Richards and Pete Townsend in the same afternoon.
I stopped for some Korean Tacos on the way back to my room. If, like me, you're thinking, "Korean tacos? That sounds like it could be good," let me tell you, it's not.
From there, I saw Band of Skulls and Jimmie Dale Gilmore at the Palm Door. Both were excellent, and I know this word is overused when talking about rock 'n' roll, but Band of Skulls set really should be described as blistering. My face was melted.
I saw a dude standing by the bar and thought, "that looks like
On the way to the Elk City show, a homeless man followed me for four blocks talk-spitting in my face while shouting (admittedly, entertainingly) conspiracy theories. I should probably get a hepatitis test.
Elk City was fantastic, and they played my favorite song of theirs "You Got Me," which made me smile and dance. Or that might have been the whiskey that made me dance. Either way, it was a great time. I was initially interested in the band because of Sean Eden's involvement, but Elk City is so different from Luna that any comparisons fall away immediately. Eden is a masterful guitarist and hops between styles with ease. Vocalist/songwriter Renee LoBue is equally flexible, sometimes channeling the power of Siouxsie, other times the pop charm of Moe Tucker. Sean and Renee chatted with me for a bit after the set and were very tolerant of my drunken rambling.
I then caugt a bit of Audra Mae's set. I had interviewed Audra for Spinner and really dug her music. She didn't disappoint live and commanded the room with just her voice and guitar.
From there, I went to the Jail Guitar Doors show. Lots of fun stuff going on there. Jail Guitar Doors is a charity founded by Billy Bragg that attempts to rehabilitate inmates through music. Wayne Kramer is heading up the American version, and Friday's show also featured Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly; Chris Shiflett from the Foo Fighters; and Tom Morello. Mike Mills also showed up to do a killer version of Neil Young's "Ohio" with Wayne Kramer on guitar. I never would have guessed Mills could deliver such an angry song with conviction (he always seems so mild-mannered in R.E.M.), but man, he's got some rage. Speaking of Rage, Tom Morello's new band, Street Sweeper Social Club did a couple of songs, including a cover of "Mama Said Knock You Out", and though I didn't expect to like them, they were really good. The show ended with Bragg, Kramer and all their guests doing "Kick Out the Jams." It rocked so hard that I forgave Wayne Kramer for being such a whiney pussy at last year's festival.
There had been all kinds of rumors about who would show up at this event- everyone from Lemmy to Cheap Trick to Slash. I have to admit, it was kind of fun watching the people who'd just shown up to see Slash get more and more disappointed as the night went on and he never appeared.
Also, did you know that the song "Jail Guitar Doors" mentions Wayne Kramer? Don't feel bad, according to Billy Bragg, Mick Jones didn't know either. But it's the first verse:
Let me tell you 'bout Wayne and his deals of cocaine
A little more every day
Holding for a friend till the band do well
Then the D.E.A. locked him away
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Too Cold To Rock
Jesus, it's a miserable day in Austin. Forty-one degree and 45 MPH wind gusts mean that I'm forgoing outside shows. Unfortunately, most everyone else has made the same decision.
Thursday
I really wish I'd had the energy to write this up yesterday, as I'm sure I'll forget something.
I started out the day with breakfast at Cisco's, and then made my way down Congress to the Roky Erickson show. I caught several bands, including Henry Clay People, The Good and the Bad, Miss Li, Riverboat Gamblers, and Asteroid Galaxy Tour. But the stand out was, by far, J Mascis' new band, Sweet Apple. The crowd for this show was more family-oriented than most of those for SXSW. Mike Weibe from Riverboat Gamblers put it succinctly when he said, "This is the most age-skewed crowd we've ever played for. I feel like I could talk about Metamucil or just jiggle my keys." The vocalist for Sweet Apple paid no mind to the fact that there were children in the audience and began the show by hurling unopened cans of beer and full packs of cigarettes into the crowd. Because of or inspite of these antics (I'm not sure which), Sweet Apple went on to put on the most entertaining show I'd seen yet at SXSW, plowing through a set of swampy, raunchy guitar rock. I highly recomend picking up their album when it's released.
I had been looking forward to seeing Sixteen Deluxe and Roky Erickson, but Sixteen Deluxe broke a cardinal rule of SXSW and took an interminable amount of time to set up. After half an hour, they had yet to start their soundcheck, and I bailed.
I ran up Congress, made a quick stop at the Third Man store to pick up an album (the wait was mercifully short this time), and continued to Valhalla to catch Gordon Gano and the Ryan Brothers. I'd listened to some of Gano's new material online and really liked it but was still unprepared for how great the show would be. The band alternated between new songs and Femmes classics. They played modified versions (Gano plays the violin during his set now) of "Country Death Song," "American Music," "Good Feeling," and "Blister in the Sun," the latter sending the crowd into an absolute frenzy.
From there, I went to Prague to see the Batusis, Sylvain Sylvian (from the New York Dolls) and Cheetah Chrome's (from the Dead Boys) new band. I got there a little early and caught a few songs by Miss Derringer, whose Eighties style pop was pleasant enough but also uninspired. The Batusis, however, were the most amazing thing I've yet seen at SXSW. The four-piece plays its garage/surf/punk with unparallelled energy and precision. Both incredible showmen, Syl and Cheetah look as if they've been playing together their entire careers. And it didn't hurt that they threw in a couple Doll's songs ("Jet Boy", "Trash"), a Dead Boys' song ("Sonic Reducer"), a VU song ("Femme Fatale") and, for Johnny Thunders, a cover of "I Wanna Be Loved." Adding to the excitement, several NY punk luminaries were in the audience, including, Lenny Kaye, Clem Burke, and Steve Conte. After the show, I managed to get a picture with Kaye, Conte and BP Fallon (who worked with Thunders, Led Zeppelin and T. Rex).
I then ran back up to Sixth and Red River to see Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker at Encore. Both bands sounded great, but David Lowery was waging war with the venue from the moment he stepped on stage. Before CVB even began, I saw Lowery mouth to audience members in front of the stage, "This festival is bullshit." He went on to complain, with the benefit of the microphone, that the venue had promised a drum kit and not delivered, that his mic was not grounded (which he demonstrated by touching his guitar strings to the microphone to get a spark) and that we should frequent other venues that didn't try to kill the artists, and that if we loved CVB, we wouldn't spend another fucking dime at Encore. That last bit prompted an Encore employee to jump on stage to argue with Lowery, at which point Lowery grabbed the beer from the employee's hand and poured it on the stage, saying, "This guy is working here, and he's drinking beer." After Cracker played their set, band members, band representatives, and club representatives argued aggressively on stage, culminating with a woman slapping and threatening to kill a mohawked man. At that point, the few remaining people were ushered out of the venue.
Update: Some assholey anonymous commenter has suggested that I have unfairly maligned Sixteen Deluxe and that it was a different band that went on after Sweet Apple. This entirely possible, as I wasn't there for the whole show, I wouldn't know Sixteen Deluxe if they walked by me on the street, and I was basing my assumption on the presumed lineup. So, apologies to Sixteen Deluxe for casting them in a poor light for the three people that read this blog.
I started out the day with breakfast at Cisco's, and then made my way down Congress to the Roky Erickson show. I caught several bands, including Henry Clay People, The Good and the Bad, Miss Li, Riverboat Gamblers, and Asteroid Galaxy Tour. But the stand out was, by far, J Mascis' new band, Sweet Apple. The crowd for this show was more family-oriented than most of those for SXSW. Mike Weibe from Riverboat Gamblers put it succinctly when he said, "This is the most age-skewed crowd we've ever played for. I feel like I could talk about Metamucil or just jiggle my keys." The vocalist for Sweet Apple paid no mind to the fact that there were children in the audience and began the show by hurling unopened cans of beer and full packs of cigarettes into the crowd. Because of or inspite of these antics (I'm not sure which), Sweet Apple went on to put on the most entertaining show I'd seen yet at SXSW, plowing through a set of swampy, raunchy guitar rock. I highly recomend picking up their album when it's released.
I had been looking forward to seeing Sixteen Deluxe and Roky Erickson, but Sixteen Deluxe broke a cardinal rule of SXSW and took an interminable amount of time to set up. After half an hour, they had yet to start their soundcheck, and I bailed.
I ran up Congress, made a quick stop at the Third Man store to pick up an album (the wait was mercifully short this time), and continued to Valhalla to catch Gordon Gano and the Ryan Brothers. I'd listened to some of Gano's new material online and really liked it but was still unprepared for how great the show would be. The band alternated between new songs and Femmes classics. They played modified versions (Gano plays the violin during his set now) of "Country Death Song," "American Music," "Good Feeling," and "Blister in the Sun," the latter sending the crowd into an absolute frenzy.
From there, I went to Prague to see the Batusis, Sylvain Sylvian (from the New York Dolls) and Cheetah Chrome's (from the Dead Boys) new band. I got there a little early and caught a few songs by Miss Derringer, whose Eighties style pop was pleasant enough but also uninspired. The Batusis, however, were the most amazing thing I've yet seen at SXSW. The four-piece plays its garage/surf/punk with unparallelled energy and precision. Both incredible showmen, Syl and Cheetah look as if they've been playing together their entire careers. And it didn't hurt that they threw in a couple Doll's songs ("Jet Boy", "Trash"), a Dead Boys' song ("Sonic Reducer"), a VU song ("Femme Fatale") and, for Johnny Thunders, a cover of "I Wanna Be Loved." Adding to the excitement, several NY punk luminaries were in the audience, including, Lenny Kaye, Clem Burke, and Steve Conte. After the show, I managed to get a picture with Kaye, Conte and BP Fallon (who worked with Thunders, Led Zeppelin and T. Rex).
I then ran back up to Sixth and Red River to see Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker at Encore. Both bands sounded great, but David Lowery was waging war with the venue from the moment he stepped on stage. Before CVB even began, I saw Lowery mouth to audience members in front of the stage, "This festival is bullshit." He went on to complain, with the benefit of the microphone, that the venue had promised a drum kit and not delivered, that his mic was not grounded (which he demonstrated by touching his guitar strings to the microphone to get a spark) and that we should frequent other venues that didn't try to kill the artists, and that if we loved CVB, we wouldn't spend another fucking dime at Encore. That last bit prompted an Encore employee to jump on stage to argue with Lowery, at which point Lowery grabbed the beer from the employee's hand and poured it on the stage, saying, "This guy is working here, and he's drinking beer." After Cracker played their set, band members, band representatives, and club representatives argued aggressively on stage, culminating with a woman slapping and threatening to kill a mohawked man. At that point, the few remaining people were ushered out of the venue.
Update: Some assholey anonymous commenter has suggested that I have unfairly maligned Sixteen Deluxe and that it was a different band that went on after Sweet Apple. This entirely possible, as I wasn't there for the whole show, I wouldn't know Sixteen Deluxe if they walked by me on the street, and I was basing my assumption on the presumed lineup. So, apologies to Sixteen Deluxe for casting them in a poor light for the three people that read this blog.
Weird Celebrity Sighting of the Day
I saw Sandra Bernhard wandering around the Flatstock poster show, but she scares me a little, so I have no photographic evidence of this.
Also, I had to make my way through the members of Gwar in order to get to Flatstock, and I have to say, those thongs they wear are not flattering.
Also, I had to make my way through the members of Gwar in order to get to Flatstock, and I have to say, those thongs they wear are not flattering.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Disturbing Hipster Trend
I've seen about a dozen waxed handlebar mustaches, which is about eleven more than I've ever seen outside of a dark rest stop.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Location, Location, Location
Camel cigarettes had some sort of tent with bands set up, presumably to hook new smokers. Unfortunately, they set up down the street from a soup kitchen, and the line down the block was 95 percent homeless looking for free smokes.
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Ambiguously Ironic
Lots of ironic t-shirt sightings, which is in and of itself no surprise, but the age of the wearer does tend to muddy the message. I saw a doughy, forty-ish guy wearing a New Kids On the Block shirt and thought of the episode of Community where Pierce, played by Chevy Chase, "ironically" wears the "World's Greatest Grandpa" shirt.
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So far...
I kicked off the week with Motorhead, which, in retrospect, may have been a mistake. The show was fantastic (and featured more Marshall cabinets than I've ever seen on one stage, and for a three-piece, no less), but being in the presence of Lemmy put me into hard-charging mode. I walked sideways back to the hotel around 1:00 and because God wanted to punish me, I was awake at 7 AM.
Needless to say, I was feeling pretty rough yesterday and took it easy for most of the afternoon. I walked down to the temporary Third Man store (Jack White's record label) to try to snag some of the limited edition vinyl being released for SXSW. The store opened at 10, and the line was around the block when I got there at 10:30. Some people had been camped out for over 24 hours, hoping to try to get one of the 75 White Stripes box sets that were released that morning. I gave up when the line hadn't moved for over half an hour. I wandered by several other times throughout the day and finally got in at 4:30 only to find the album I wanted wasn't being released until Thursday.
I caught a short set by the Walkmen at a studio set up by IFC. The show was recorded, but I'm not sure if it was broadcast on Web or television. The band sounded great, and their new material is fantastic, but what struck me most was how fucking handsome their vocalist is. He also seemed very relaxed and kind, hanging around after their set to chat with fans, including a few obviously flustered women. God, I hate tall, handsome, talented, affable men. Fuckers.
At Vic's recommendation, I stopped by the Paste party to check out Lissie. Her set didn't blow me away, but the free Izze did help with my hangover.
After that, I mostly stuck around the Convention Center until it was time for Wanda Jackson. Ms. Jackson is still in fine form, and her voice has hardly changed in nearly 55 years. Her band got off to a rough start, stopping or changing songs before she was ready, but they recovered quickly. Jackson was charming and funny, chiding the hipster
audience, asking one, "What is that, honey? A hat or a hairdo?" Her
set seemed very short, and she teased that she was going to do "Shaking All Over," the flipside to her new single, but ran out of time. But she did get to a sultry, slinky cover of "Heartbreak Hotel" that brought the house down. We pleaded for more, but she didn't want to short any of the other bands. Classy lady.
From there, Vic and I wandered up Red River to catch Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. Jones is one of this years presumed breakthrough acts, and she's playing several shows a day. Which is remarkable, considering her boundless energy on stage. Her act is a nice throwback to the explosive soul shows of the Sixties and Seventies, and one of her bandmates even acts as her hype-man.
We also caught a few minutes of some comedian whose name I don't remember and few songs by Japanther before heading to Prague to see Billy Bragg.
We got to Prague in time to see Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly! whose too precious name is a disservice to the passionate and hooky rock he plays.
Bragg came on immediately after, starting a full 15 minutes early. He seemed a bit wound up and scolded the audience repeatedly for stereotypical American faults. But Bragg somehow managed to seem both cutting and good natured. And the crowd was in rare form, as well. It may have been the drunkest, rowdiest audience I've ever seen. There was broken glass. There was crying. There was heckling. The representatives from Strummerville, the event's sponsor, were almost literally swinging from the chandeliers. Bragg handled the hecklers deftly and put on a stellar show. I'm always impressed at how Bragg can sing about politics so heavy-handedly and still be so damned moving and entertaining. I guess it's his sincerity that allows him to do what other artists can't.
I got a solid seven hours sleep and am feeling ready to take on another full day of boozing and rocking.
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Children by the Millions Sing for Alex Chilton
I hadn't yet read any news today and therefore didn't realize until
Billy Bragg mentioned it that Alex Chilton had died. Man, he was
young, and Big Star was just getting some deluxe treatment with the
box set and all. That's too bad. Not to mention there are now hundreds
of music nerds with nothing to do on Saturday.
Billy Bragg mentioned it that Alex Chilton had died. Man, he was
young, and Big Star was just getting some deluxe treatment with the
box set and all. That's too bad. Not to mention there are now hundreds
of music nerds with nothing to do on Saturday.
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Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
First Bit of Awesome
I just saw Martin Atkins in my hotel. For those of you that don't
know, Atkins started out as P.i.L.'s drummer and played on This is
What You Want...which was one of my heavy rotation albums when I was
just a wee (post?) punker. My inner 15-year-old squealed when I saw
him, but he was engaged in a conversation, so I didn't pester him for
a photo.
know, Atkins started out as P.i.L.'s drummer and played on This is
What You Want...which was one of my heavy rotation albums when I was
just a wee (post?) punker. My inner 15-year-old squealed when I saw
him, but he was engaged in a conversation, so I didn't pester him for
a photo.
On my way to Lovejoy's to meet Vic and then to Stubb's to see
Motorhead. Thank god the SXSW bag had three sets of earplugs this year.
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A Vengeful God
I'm waiting to board my flight to Austin and have decided that sitting
in the Harlingen airport next to a dude spitting tobacco into a clear
water bottle while Fox News blares on the television might be my own
personal Hell.
in the Harlingen airport next to a dude spitting tobacco into a clear
water bottle while Fox News blares on the television might be my own
personal Hell.
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Saturday, March 13, 2010
Airport Etiquette
Is there some weird flaw in human nature that causes people to sit unnecessarily close to you if it looks like you want to be left alone?
I'm on my way to Texas to spend a few days in Harlingen with my grandmother and then hit SXSW 2010. Once again, thanks to spending roughly 42 percent of my take home at Harvey's on the Mall, I have a "free" first-class ticket to Austin. However, American is starting to get a little stingier with the mileage flights, and I'm stuck with a very long layover at O'Hare. I knew I'd be dead tired after getting up for the 6 AM flight, so I bought an Admiral's Club pass, hoping to get some sleep. The Admiral's Club at O'Hare is huge and generally pretty empty on weekend mornings, which was the case today. So, I found a quiet corner, covered myself with my jacket and laid my head on my carry-on to rest for a couple hours. And with roughly 500 empty seats, where do you think people choose to sit and have a conversation? Yup. Picture to follow. That, plus the family whose two children are literally shrieking for no good reason, makes me think I wasted fifty bucks. Be sure to watch the news today because if I hear, "William! Inside voice!" one more time, something bad might happen.
I shouldn't be so negative to start my trip; there's so much to be excited about. I'm really looking forward to just spending some time in the sun. The Michigan winters are so long and harsh that it starts to feel like you're the caretaker at the Overlook Hotel. I brought three books to read by the pool, and if I even manage to finish one, that'll be the first since August. I'll be glad to see my grandmother, though she's warned me that I'll be spending some time as tech support. Then there's the food. You can buy tacos in the street! In the street! And everytime I think about going back to Cisco's for breakfast, my mouth starts to water. And of course, there's all the music.
The lineup for SXSW this year isn't quite as stellar as last year. I was very meh about all of the big headliners that were announced. Stone Temple Pilots, Hole, Scissor Sisters, Cheap Trick, Ray Davies...yawn. I might go check out Smokey Robinson or Big Star, but I'm not a rabid fan of either. Of course, the headliners are not the reason to go to SXSW anyway. With over 2,000 bands, it's really more about discovering music and relishing the madness and audacity of a festival with TWO-THOUSAND FUCKING BANDS. There are a few old favorites I'll be checking out (Billy Bragg and Jail Guitar Doors, Man or Astro-man?, Wanda Jackson, The Walkmen, She & Him, Gordon Gano), but mostly I'll be watching bands that I don't know much about or only heard of because of SXSW, like Audra Mae, Band of Skulls, Smith Westerns, the Sandwitches, Surfer Blood and the Dum Dum Girls.
As excited as I am to be headed back to SXSW and just to get away from the dreary winter for a few days, I am sad that Heather and Eli won't be joining me. Jeff warned me that I would have second thoughts about leaving, and though I doubted him at the time, I have to admit he was right. Eli is growing so fast and doing new things every week, so I'm scared I'll miss something momentous. And of course, Heather is the greatest travel partner ever. Sigh. I guess I'll have to drink through the pain.
I'm on my way to Texas to spend a few days in Harlingen with my grandmother and then hit SXSW 2010. Once again, thanks to spending roughly 42 percent of my take home at Harvey's on the Mall, I have a "free" first-class ticket to Austin. However, American is starting to get a little stingier with the mileage flights, and I'm stuck with a very long layover at O'Hare. I knew I'd be dead tired after getting up for the 6 AM flight, so I bought an Admiral's Club pass, hoping to get some sleep. The Admiral's Club at O'Hare is huge and generally pretty empty on weekend mornings, which was the case today. So, I found a quiet corner, covered myself with my jacket and laid my head on my carry-on to rest for a couple hours. And with roughly 500 empty seats, where do you think people choose to sit and have a conversation? Yup. Picture to follow. That, plus the family whose two children are literally shrieking for no good reason, makes me think I wasted fifty bucks. Be sure to watch the news today because if I hear, "William! Inside voice!" one more time, something bad might happen.
I shouldn't be so negative to start my trip; there's so much to be excited about. I'm really looking forward to just spending some time in the sun. The Michigan winters are so long and harsh that it starts to feel like you're the caretaker at the Overlook Hotel. I brought three books to read by the pool, and if I even manage to finish one, that'll be the first since August. I'll be glad to see my grandmother, though she's warned me that I'll be spending some time as tech support. Then there's the food. You can buy tacos in the street! In the street! And everytime I think about going back to Cisco's for breakfast, my mouth starts to water. And of course, there's all the music.
The lineup for SXSW this year isn't quite as stellar as last year. I was very meh about all of the big headliners that were announced. Stone Temple Pilots, Hole, Scissor Sisters, Cheap Trick, Ray Davies...yawn. I might go check out Smokey Robinson or Big Star, but I'm not a rabid fan of either. Of course, the headliners are not the reason to go to SXSW anyway. With over 2,000 bands, it's really more about discovering music and relishing the madness and audacity of a festival with TWO-THOUSAND FUCKING BANDS. There are a few old favorites I'll be checking out (Billy Bragg and Jail Guitar Doors, Man or Astro-man?, Wanda Jackson, The Walkmen, She & Him, Gordon Gano), but mostly I'll be watching bands that I don't know much about or only heard of because of SXSW, like Audra Mae, Band of Skulls, Smith Westerns, the Sandwitches, Surfer Blood and the Dum Dum Girls.
As excited as I am to be headed back to SXSW and just to get away from the dreary winter for a few days, I am sad that Heather and Eli won't be joining me. Jeff warned me that I would have second thoughts about leaving, and though I doubted him at the time, I have to admit he was right. Eli is growing so fast and doing new things every week, so I'm scared I'll miss something momentous. And of course, Heather is the greatest travel partner ever. Sigh. I guess I'll have to drink through the pain.
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