SXSW Day Three

South by Southwest means different things to different people; publicity firms looking to expand business; bands looking to expand their fan base; record labels looking to expand their band roster; businesses looking to expand their publicity. Most people are looking to expand their experience, notoriety, and contacts. I just wanted to hear some music.
I was here a couple of years ago with the muckrakers; we had three shows, two of which went extremely well. It’s the contrasts that are standing out to me now, the much lower percentage of heavier bands and the larger numbers of electropop bands. There are more female led bands this year, more americana bands, and many more tight jeans.
Today began with the same gorgeous weather we’ve had the entire time here, and the short drive down 1st St. is one of peaceful anticipation, often accompanied by the Beastie Boys or AC/DC, which seems entirely appropriate. After a brief walk down 6th St., I arrived at the first show of the day, Wax Fang at the Troubadour, a typical enough venue for the area; a long shotgun style bar with just dingy enough to proclaim authenticity as a local institution. Wax Fang hails from Louisville, KY and got quite the boost opening for My Morning Jacket. This week they have devoted themselves to playing as much as possible, their sets ambitious, powerful, and loud. Wax Fang sounds like a frightening night spent hallucinating in a southern swamp. The crowd is intrigued and mesmerized. Singer Scott Carney plays guitar and theremin like a crazed conductor escaped from an asylum, while the band stays in the groove and rides the wave of the song. A nice spotlight on Louisville’s eccentricities.
A few blocks down the street, we manage to catch the Bitter Wigs, the latest creation of Josh Hawkins, Louisvillian by way of Chicago these days. This three piece doesn’t so much as play their songs as ignite a blowtorch and take it to your face. The Bitter Wigs land in that late 70’s, early 80’s era of punk and AC/DC, the Sex Pistols and Black Sabbath. Not for the faint of heart, this riff-oriented groove machine lets Hawkins wail his tenor with the best of them.
Finding our way down 6th to Red River St., we head in Mohawk and check out the bill. The next band to play is called Peelander-Z. Well, seriously, nobody wants to see a band called Peelander-Z, but we end up talking to some people we know when a Japanese band called Peelander-Z takes the stage, but may also go by the name Might Morphin Acid Trip, or at least that’s my impression since they are dressed in those costumes, with the singer having a shaved head except for his long pigtails that he has let grow and partially dyed blond over black hair. I’m just going to have to post pictures. Peelander-Z is basically an Absurdist Thrash Punk band, introducing songs through broken English and holding up the song title on poster board, which is also the chorus, which they get the crowd to chant at the appropriate times, which is really the only lyrics to the song. They played such hits as Mad Tiger, the ever-popular Ninja High School, and everyone’s sing-along favorite Steak: Medium Rare. They climb speakers, hang from the rafters, get on top of the tents, enter the crowd and jump rope, and generally entertain the pants of the crowd. Their final song, What The Health – SUPER HEALTH! has the band in a groovy thrash metal number as they invite a few members of the crowd onstage to take their instruments and continue the song while they put on Mexican wrestling masks, a bowling pin costume, a huge green afro wig, picking up the drums, taking them into the crowd, and handing out pots and pans for the crowd to bang until the whole thing falls apart like some steampunk ferris wheel. I’m honestly not sure what happened after that. I’m beginning to think it was all a dream. I’m really trying not to make a gonzo reference here, but I feel it pulling me in like a stifled tourette’s tic.
As the absurdist fog of Peelander-Z lifted, we made our way to the Austin Convention Center, where a thick line snaked its’ way all the way around the concourse. Looking for the will call window, we passed the 900 or so people standing there and went to claim our Rolling Stone tickets to see Echo & the Bunnymen. As the first ones in the doors, we walked to the front of the stage where the cameramen were as the crowd filled in behind us. This was not my doing, and I owe a great deal of thanks to Kyle Meredith for the tickets. It was an event that was being filmed for direct tv and was a 42 minute set of their most recognizable songs.
Afterward, we decided that a short walk and a drive through Austin would allow us to collect ourselves and find a relaxing dinner. This turned out to be at the Green Mesquite, a fantastic BBQ place near Auditorium Shores that served me some of the best turkey I’ve ever had, complemented by a fantastic meal with friends. This gave us just enough energy to make it back to 6th St., and the swarming masses of the streets throbbed with life and was motivating enough to make a few passes back and forth and pop in on whatever sounds caught our ears. At some point, we saw Brigid Kaelin sitting in with various musicians playing saw, later entertaining a group of comedians entertaining her by writing her into a television script. Rocky Top! they yelled. She complied and promptly trumped them with a Margaritaville yodel.
In the end, South by Southwest was exactly what I wanted it to be, full of friends and music and good times. I missed a couple of the bands I needed to see, I picked up a couple of Louisville bands that weren’t on my schedule, so maybe in the balance of things, I only have one foot on the lounge chair in the swimming pool. But I won’t miss the big fight either.
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