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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