Sunday, March 16th, 2008
It would be nice to think that it was possible to end SxSW on a grand note, with a supremely great experience that defines and crystallized the entire experience in one perfect moment. Unfortunately, my experience has been more along the lines of staggering down 6th St through hordes of drunken college kids back in town from wherever they’d fled earlier in the week and being far more interested in finding somewhere soft to collapse than take in one more band, however great they might be. This year… was no different.
But first, there was one more day of Hot Freaks! to survive celebrate. I didn’t manage to get to the Mohawk/DeVille entertainment complex (what I’m now calling the two clubs) until things were underway but was in position when The Jealous Girlfriends took the DeVille stage. I promised, back in October, that you’d be hearing much more from me about this Brooklyn quartet and thus far haven’t delivered. But with their new, self-titled record set for re-release on May 6, I’ll be soon making good on that. But just not yet. Instead, I’ll say that their show reminded me of the buzz that I got after seeing them play the Drake last Fall and after talking to some others in attendance and seeing the band swarmed for CDs immediately after, I wasn’t the only one. More on the band soon, promise.
Back over at The Mohawk, the schedule had shaken out such that the outside stage was non-stop rock action, featuring the likes of The Whigs and Film School to start the day. I sought refuge from the cacophony at the inside stage and a set of familiar faces – The Acorn, also fleeing the depressing Ontario Winter. They packed the inside of the Mohawk, perhaps evidence of the buzz surrounding the American release of Glory Hope Mountain last week, and didn’t disappoint the curious with a shortish but solid set of highlights from the record, their live show honed to razor sharpness by recent touring though their banter wasn’t quite as sharp – I don’t think there’s ever been a good time to name-check Pol Pot in stage banter, but that’s just me.
Outside, it was then time for the sturm und drang of A Place To Bury Strangers. I’d seen how much sonic carnage they could wreak indoors last December but was curious as to how they’d translate in an open-air stage in daylight, where they couldn’t necessarily use the walls to trap their audience with sound while blinding them with strobes. Short answer? Pretty much the same. Sure, without the light show it wasn’t quite the all-sensory freak out that it might have been but they compensated with, if it’s possible, even more volume and extended graphic guitar abuse. Not for the faint of heart, earplug-less or lovers of Fender Jaguars. Oliver Ackermann punishes those those things like red-headed stepchildren caught with their hands in the cash register AND the cookie jar. At the same time.
Peelander-Z describe themselves as “Japanese Action Comic Punk” and that’s as good an attempt at putting them into words as any. Imagine three to five members dressed in Power Ranger-esque costumes, alternately climbing over every part of the stage and club possible (and the Mohawk is very climbable),stage invading, audience invading, band member recruiting, singalong-leading, crowd surfing, human bowling and playing loud, cartoon metal-ly songs about lord only knows what. The crowd went completely batshit and it was absolutely the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever borne witness too and easily the most outrageously fun thing I saw this past week. It’ll make more sense when I have the photographic evidence ready but for now, check out some videos to get some notion of what I’m talking about. Also fun was watching Islands load in during the show and seeing the, “we have to follow THIS?” looks on their faces.
The last matinee of the day went to Swedish singer Lykke Li over at DeVille. I had no idea who she was when we originally booked her but since then, her name has cropped up again and again so my curiosity was piqued. I found her set of mostly acoustic dance pop interesting if not immediately converting. She definitely has a unique aesthetic but it’s one that deserves closer attention than can be paid at the tail end of a four-day music marathon, particularly in a post-Peelander buzz.
I had originally been disappointed in how little there was I wanted to see on Saturday but it turns out that was a blessing in disguise as I was able to call it a day reasonably early and not feel bad about missing out. Dinner was conveniently had across the street from Stubb’s and I dashed over at the stroke of 8 when I heard the first notes of Duffy’s “Rockferry” ringing out. For someone who’s as all-conquering in the UK as she is right now, there was curiously little buzz around her performances at Sx, at least as far as I heard. I mean Stubb’s was far from empty and the attendees were enthusiastic, but her name seemed far from ubiquitous. Of course, now that I think about it I have no idea who people WERE talking about so my observation is probably pointless. Anyways, she sounded great and had a lot of poise up there (if a lot of the same poses) and the band was tight, and listening to her stuff closely for the first time I could hear Bernard Butler’s influence on her songs and sound – not circa Suede but McAlmont And. She may be a little too much with the soul sound to really enthrall me – my tastes run more towards Motown pop – but she’s definitely got the goods.
Following her on the amphitheater stage was none other than Austin’s finest, Okkervil River and as good a choice to end out SxSW with as any. It was a bit odd seeing them on such a large stage – I’m more used to seeing them falling off of smaller stages – but they didn’t sound a bit out of place and Will Sheff took full advantage of the extra room, running around and basically being turned up to 10. Personnel-wise, the show was a bit different as keyboardist Jonathan Meiburg was absent – presumably with Shearwater commitments – and it also marked guitarist Brian Cassidy’s last with the band for the foreseeable future as he gets ready to become a father (he will be replaced by Wren Charles Bissell on the road) but rather than take on a bittersweet flavour for that fact, the mood was celebratory and I was bouncing up and down on the Stubb’s lawn right along with them.
And while that would have been the perfect note to end the festival on, I felt like catching only two shows that night was wimping out just a little too much. I needed to work that badge just a little bit more so I popped into the Dirty Dog Bar for Georgie James. The duo’s acoustic guitar and keyboard pop sounded pretty good, but not better than the idea of going to bed. I bailed about midway through their set and called it a festival.
Snow on the ground and lack of tortilla-wrapped foodstuffs within arm’s reach notwithstanding, it’s good to be home. A proper wrap-up of the week that was tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, or whenever I wake up.
Saturday, March 15th, 2008
The downside of putting on your own day show is you feel kind of obliged to stick around. It’s just as well, then, that we put together a pretty ass-kicking lineup for Hot Freaks!, the first day of which went down yesterday at Club DeVille and the Mohawk. Now while the dense concentration of so many terrific bands in one spot made it tempting to try and see (and cover) everything, I was already starting to feel the past couple days – mainly in my lower back and knees – so I picked my spots judiciously and spent the rest of the time hanging out with friends in air conditioned spots. Though only mid-March, Friday’s weather was pure Texas Summer… or maybe just Toronto Summer and Texas Spring. Either way, it was damn hot.
Opening things up was an act familiar to readers of this site, Nicole Atkins & The Sea. As grateful as I was for their willingness to take the early slot, I was just as grateful to the good-sized crowd who got up just as early to come out and see them. As always, Atkins and her band sounded terrific and provided a torch (song) that shone bright even at high noon in Texas. A mosey to the Mohawk’s inside stage introduced me to Blair, a New Orleans singer-songwriter who came equipped with a country heart, a rock band and a willingness to let herself get frayed around the edges. An engaging new talent who will merit a longer look in the near future.
Back outside, San Francisco’s Dodos announced that they weren’t just another rock band when their set opened with a trombone playing “Taps” through a delay pedal. In fact, they weren’t really a rock band at all – their roots are much more folk, but delivered with a verve and creativity that made them fascinating to watch and listen to, especially as their songs never became overly obtuse or impenetrable. Along those same lines, though with more rustic overtones, was the set from North Carolinans Bowerbirds, whose sun-dappled set on the Mohawk’s inside stage was nothing short of stunningly beautiful. Both are acts that have been on the periphery of my radar for a while now but whom I obviously need to get to know better, and soon.
Also newly discovered was Chicago’s Cameron McGill, who was playing the inside room while I was intending to only pass through but was encouraged to stick around by Dodge and am glad I did. Mating late-era Beatles melodies with a distinctly midwestern sensibility, it didn’t surprise me one whit to hear that the sprawling, seven-piece would be touring with Margot & The Nuclear So And So’s later this year. Hell, between the size of their two rosters they could easily field a football team.
In between all that down-home, old-school folk and roots rock I took in some decidedly more contemporary fare on the Mohawk stage with Edmonton’s Cadence Weapon, accompanied as always by DJ Weasel. They fought through an overheating turntable to still deliver a set of compact, party-inducing, audience-invading hip-hop that made good use of the many, many energy drinks Cadence said he’d been downing since the night before.
The toughest call for me that afternoon was deciding between the two headliners – we had Jens Lekman serenading a packed DeVille and British Sea Power unleashing rock on the Mohawk, both show-stoppers but I could only be at one. I elected to take in a few songs of Jens’ set – he was playing only with a percussionist on bongos – and got to hear his complete, annotated performance of “Postcard To Nina” reminding me of how absolutely hilarious (in a deadpan, Nordic way of course) he was. It hurt to tear myself away, but I did so anyway.
And for the first few songs of British Sea Power’s set, I was regretting that I did. They got off to a slow start, unfortunate considering the set was front-loaded with great Do You Like Rock Music? material, but after reaching back to their debut for “Remember Me”, they seemed to find their rhythm and began picking up momentum, culminating in an earth-scorching “Spirit Of St Louis”. This was the first time I’d seen them since Eamon Hamilton left the band, and at least as far as the wacky stage antics that the band had built their live reputation on, his presence was sorely missed. Odd costumes aside, they were quite businesslike in their approach and while I can appreciate their desire to shed what could be considered schticky… it was also loads of fun to watch. Ah, well.
So with half of Hot Freaks successfully in the books, I opted to stick with the “pick one venue, let the bands come to me” approach for the evening and got what I think was the best seat in the house at The Parish for the Merge Records showcase. We were welcomed by label honcho Mac McCaughan, performing as Portastatic with a solo acoustic set including covers, old and new Portastatic songs and an airing of Superchunk’s “San Andreas” that couldn’t help making me wish that the reunion bandwagon would make a stop in Chapel Hill.
Next up was fresh-faced Baltimore duo Wye Oak, previewing songs from their debut If Children (out April 8). They made an impressively full racket for just a two-piece – Andy Stack’s ability to handle drums and keyboard duties simultaneously was definitely noteworthy – but over the course of a set the sonic limitations of their configuration became evident. But considering their tender age, growth is inevitable.
A few songs into the Radar Bros’ set, frontman Jim Putnam mentioned that they were going to slow things down a bit and some smart-ass in the audience yelled back, “slower?!?”. But it was a fair point, because if there’s one thing the Radar Bros are not, it’s in a hurry. Their set was a totally chill affair, like a single-speed bike ride through the sun-dappled Laurel Canyon. It might have been a nice soundtrack for a lazy afternoon but in this setting, it was just snoozy.
And so it fell on Sweden’s Shout Out Louds to be the evening’s ambassadors of rock. To this end, they turned in a suitably chaotic set, with instruments getting overturned, favourite songs from last year’s Our Ill Wills like “Impossible” and “Tonight I Have To Leave It” were rearranged in ways that I’m not entirely sure were deliberate and the band just generally having a time of it. They did, however, get the audience to shake off their Radar Bros-induced torpor so for that, they had my thanks.
Not that anyone would have stayed asleep for the night’s next act, presumably the reason a lot of the crowd as in attendance – She & Him. I don’t know that you could say there was a lot of pressure on M Ward and Zooey Deschanel with their musical collaboration – it’s not like they don’t have successful day jobs to go back to – but there was no ignoring the intense attention that the project was getting. And how did they respond? Amazingly. Their show was far, far better than anyone could have expected – Ward burned it up on guitar (as always) and vocals as needed, but the spotlight – figuratively and literally – was on Deschanel. Her voice was clear and beautiful and she also demonstrated some chops on the keyboard and beyond her adorable wide-eyed, deer in the headlights stage demeanor, seemed perfectly comfortable up there though there were numerous sideways glances for cues/guidance/encouragement from her musical partner. But while the attention was focused squarely on the she and the him, full credit must be given to their band, in particular the drums. The simply massive drum sounds turned the old-timey, folksy songs that populate Volume One into a fully engaging live experience and helped make their show one of the highlights of the festival.
Now that was a show that would be difficult for anyone to follow, but Destroyer is not an act that has ever worried about impressing in a live setting. Dan Bejar’s disdain for performance is well-documented, and was on display as he and his band evidenced no urgency at all as they dealt with myriad technical difficulties. But the irony of it all is that Bejar is a very charismatic performer and when they did play, they somehow managed to turn that indifference into a peculiar sort of lurching intensity in stage-testing material from Trouble In Dreams. Almost despite their best efforts, Destroyer still managed to entertain and enthrall.
Three down, one to go.
Friday, March 14th, 2008
Sometimes it’s fun to hit SxSW without a plan – after all, even if you have one all it takes is one glacial lineup to toss everything out the window or, in the case of today, one completely fubar-ed day show. Things started well enough with a round table discussion at the conference portion of SxSW (yes, there’s a business side of things) amongst a number of bloggers, just talking shop and yes, it was as exciting as you’re imagining it to be. When that let out, nothing on my schedule demanded my immediate attention so I took a leisurely mosey around the bustling 6th Street/Red River corridor, popping into day shows to see what’s up but not sticking around until finding myself at Minipop’s show inside the Red-Eyed Fly.
San Francisco’s Minipop were one of my 2007 discoveries, their gauzey dream-pop falling quite squarely within the realm of “stuff I like”. But just as their showcase last year was marred by technical difficulties (at one point the power went out), this time they were battling their sound system on a few fronts, but mainly it just wasn’t sounding very loud or clear and there were random hums and buzzes everywhere. But still they fought through it and turned in some numbers from A New Hope, some presumably new material and an unexpected cover of Catherine Wheel’s “Black Metallic”. Sweet female vocals? Check. Shoegazer classics? Check. Cover songs? Check. All three rolled into one? Yes, please.
Directly across the street (I love Austin) was the broadcast centre for Free Yr Radio, which was featuring live to air sets from many of the performers at the festival. What I didn’t know was that these sets were only three songs in length and over before you knew it, which was why I only saw one song from Glasgow’s Sons & Daughters who, in This Gift, have put out one of my favourite records of the year so far. This didn’t bother me too much as I was planning on seeing the later that afternoon, but first had a date with Ms Emmy The Great in a parking garage on the far side of downtown. Get your mind out of the gutter.
The party was supposed to be thrown by NYLON and Guess Jeans and take place on the top floor of a parking garage but when I got there, the street address provided was a leasing office for an apartment building and the entrance, not marked, was on the other side of the block. Then upon getting to the top of the parking garage, I found it was barely attended either by guests, artists or staff. No one I asked had any idea of who was playing where or when and when I finally did find someone with a schedule, none of the artists listed on the flyer were there at all. It was like the most ridiculous bait-and-switch ever. Needless to say, I wasn’t impressed and found a cab to get back downtown. NYLON, I am boycotting your publication and will get my news on durable, synthetic polymers elsewhere and Guess, if I had any of your clothing I would wear it with disdain.
On the plus side, I had no trouble making it back to the Mohawk in time to see… Sons & Daughters again. This time, however, it was for a proper-length set that proved that the band is as electric live as they are on disc. Adele Bethel was an intense and magnetic frontwoman in her leopardskin tights, false eyelashes and gold glitter dress but it was guitarist/vocalist Scott Paterson who really impressed, his furious riffing and hollered vocals – to say nothing of his stylish pompadour – proving to be as crucial a part of the band’s magic as Bethel’s lead vocals and presence. Riveting stuff – the Scots are impressing at SxSW this year – and certainly getting me excited for their Toronto show at Lee’s Palace at the end of the month.
Now anytime I mention hip-hop, I qualify whatever I say with the fact that I don’t know anything about hip-hop, but I do know that the live shows are fun to photograph, especially when the crowd is into it, and the Mohawk was definitely anxious to see Clipse perform, and hell – I was already up front. I asked Matt from You Ain’t No Picasso for a quick Clipse primer and got back, “they’re a duo from Atlanta who sing about cocaine”. Well as it happens they’re from Virginia Beach, and while I don’t doubt that cocaine turned up in the lyrics, that wasn’t all. Or so I assume – I couldn’t really make lyrics out but am pretty sure there was more to it than odes to coke. Anyway I was into it for a while then peeled out to let someone who was actually a fan into the venue and to score some dinner.
The evening portion of Thursday began with The Brother Kite at Habana Calle 6 and I was excited to see them play in considerably lower-stress situation than my Pop Montreal showcase last October. I will hold up their last album Waiting For The Time To Be Right as one of the best guitar-pop records of this century – no hyperbole – and now having seen them play a show not marred by technical difficulties, save an oncoming cold for singer Patrick Boutwell, I will expand that praise to say they’re one of the best wholly unknown bands in America. Even with the 8PM slot at a little basement venue, the band still soared and happily, there was a good-sized crowd there to witness it and who were openly impressed by what they saw.
The next order of business wasn’t a showcase so much as to procure some food, but after grabbing some 6th St curb with a slice of pizza and Texas-sized Coke I glanced up and realized that I was outside the Wave, where The Coast were playing in about ten minutes. That is what we call a sign, and I admit I was feeling a bit guilty about not having seen a single local or Canadian act since I’ve been here so I went to root for the home team a bit. Their stage was absolutely minuscule, with barely enough room for them to stand let alone put any sort of physicality into their performance but they sounded good and gave pause for everyone trying to walk past to get to the NME party upstairs that maybe the better band to see was downstairs (and from what I heard of the rooftop performance from the street, I suspect that was true).
Though the NYLON/Guess party was a bust, I still got my opportunity to see Emmy The Great at her proper showcase at Latitude 30 and it was worth all the effort and anticipation. Together with her small band (backing singer, second guitar, violin) she put on an utterly charming performance with both old songs and newer ones that are targeted for her album. What struck me the most, and which I probably took for granted from the recordings, was her remarkable elocution while singing. The girl has excellent diction and that’s crucial for performing songs as densely wordy as hers. That may seem strange praise but it’s warranted. And she’s got a marvelous voice, gift for melody and is cute as a button but that’s all obvious. I could have happily ended the evening there (and my feet thought that was a terrific idea) but there was still much more to see.
Rob from Donewaiting convinced me to abandon my original plan of wandering aimlessly for an hour and to go see Bon Iver at the Mohawk (this is what it took – “hey, let’s go see Bon Iver”). I haven’t jumped on the For Emma, Forever Ago bandwagon as many have, but have looked at it a length and with curiosity. And while a lot of the story behind that record appears to be its origins in a log cabin in the Wisconsin wilderness (I’m paraphrasing), I found the material much more impressive live, with a band behind it. the addition of a drummer prone to fits of mad yet tasteful fills does a lot for the dynamics of the songs and is a good match for Justin Vernon’s soulful vocals. Consider me a couple steps closer to convinced.
London’s People’s Revolutionary Choir were one of those random discoveries made while cruising the SxSW listings. I was immediately taken by the grand energy of the sample song on offer and decided to dedicated the Thursday midnight slot to them because, hey – if you’re not going to take a flyer on a band at SxSW, then why even come? The venue – a hotel conference room with a stage erected in the corner – wasn’t very high on vibe but the band put on a raucous show regardless though I found what impressed over the course of one song began to sound rather unfocused over a half-dozen. Their musical manifesto cribs from 25 year of Brit-rock anthemicism but they haven’t managed to distill all that down into something new and interesting on its own merits. They still merit watching but at this point it’s unclear if they’re actually staging a revolution or are just a bunch of people taking a very loud walk.
To cap the evening, I had a number of options written down though all were of equal interest or disinterest. In the end, The Wombats’ gig on Maggie Mae’s rooftop won out because a) I’ve been in a British mood of late (if you hadn’t noticed) and b) it was on the way back to the hotel. Unfortunately I forgot that Maggie Mae’s is possibly the most painful venue in Austin to stand in, with its cobblestone floors, particularly if you’re coming off a full day of walking and standing. Of course, the band were late getting started and when they did, their youthful, high-energy fun-time rock seemed to come with the singular message of “dance!” (it helped that the band exhorted the audience to dance at every opportunity as well). Not especially deep but delivering on their mission of having a good time, The Wombats were entertaining but it wasn’t too long before the barking of my dogs was overpowering and I stumbled back to the hotel.
Only half done? Oh god.
Thursday, March 13th, 2008
Ahhh, ATX. Once again I find myself nestled in your soft, tortilla-like bosom. Ever since I decided to attend the 2008 edition of SxSW (which was about two minutes after the 2007 edition ended), I swore that I’d do this year right – badge, downtown hotel, RSVPs to all the day parties… but of course all the RSVPs really mean is that you get to stand in line to add to your ever-burgeoning wristband collection. The first day started in one of these lines, to get access to the ever-popular Levi’s/FADER Fort – where I’d never been before. I haven’t been so diligent about RSVPs in the past.
Anyway, once wristbands were acquired, we moseyed in to have a look at what the big deal was and was greeted by the first band of the day, Los Angeles’ Mae Shi. Whenever I type that, I unconsciously want to add a “t” at the end of their name but that’s not really a reflection on what I thought. Granted, their loud, vaguely angry and spastic rock did nothing for me but that’s no reason for name-calling. They were working hard up there and working up a sweat and that’s what SxSW is all about.
Then it was off to the Donewaiting party at the Creekside Lounge – Donewaiting is a crucial SxSW reference site and this was their first-ever sponsored event, so it felt right to pay respects. Even if only for a few minutes, as I caught just the last song of Catfish Haven’s set and the one thing that stuck out to me… George Hunter has gone electric! George, say it ain’t so.
The draw at IODA’s fifth anniversary bash at Emo’s Annex was Glaswegians Frightened Rabbit but I was early enough to see Curumin, a sort of laid-back, soul/lounge/hip-hop outfit whose three members curiously set up at the back of the stage while plying their trade. Very mellowed out but quite affable and enjoyable.
And then the Rabbit – I’d read somewhere that they were shy sort of live act but that couldn’t be further from the truth. They delivered songs from their forthcoming The Midnight Organ Fight in loud and frenzied fashion as a four-piece, three of them Telecasters (pointy guitar tone yes) with low end handled by organ pedals or samples. Frontman Scott (no last names please) pogoed around the stage when he wasn’t bellowing melodic angst into the mic in his wonderfully thick Scottish brogue and as their short set was possibly the only chance I’d get to see them this week, I’m glad they impressed as much as I’d hoped. Now I hope that Organ Fight takes off when it’s released on April 15 and justifies a North American tour so I can see them play a proper-length. Maybe with labelmates The Twilight Sad? Yes please?
With that done, it was to the Mohawk for Shearwater – seeing them play Sx has become something of a tradition for me and I was eager to hear them preview material from Rook, some three months before its formal release. The set still drew mainly from Palo Santo but some Rook material was aired out, some for the first time. The latent greatness in the new stuff was evident but the arrangements still need to incubate a bit, I expect they’ll sound better when they hit the road in May with Clinic.
And closing out the day portion of the Wednesday, it was back to Emo’s Annex for the only appearance of the week from The Wedding Present. Or part of the Wedding Present, anyways. The band was represented by singer/guitarist Dave Gedge and bassist Terry de Castro and while it’s always a treat to hear Wedding Present songs (and one Cinerama tune) played, the absence of the drums and second guitar was keenly felt. Gedge was probably as aware of this as anyone and promised a proper tour in support of their new album El Rey (out in May) this September and October so as a stopgap and lead-in to dinner, the performance sufficed.
Now since it was announced, R.E.M.’s show at Stubb’s on this night was the inflexible certainty on the schedule. But seeing people start to line up at a quarter to five and with everyone I talked to opting not to even bother trying to get in since they expected to be beyond full before they got there. And while I’d complained before about how the festival had scheduled a lot of bands I wanted to see against R.E.M., it began to look like that would be a blessing since it meant a wealth of contingency options.
I started things off at The Parish for reasons that aren’t entirely clear to me now. I caught the tail end of Zambri’s set, a co-ed, electro-heavy act from New York who serve up glammy rock with a healthy dose of angst. I believe I listened to a copy of their EP a little while back and that bit of familiarity may have steered me here and, in turn, their show has encouraged me to revisit the EP. It’s the circle of life.
They were followed by Wild Light, the next in a long long of hot new bands coming out of New Hampshire. Yeah. They featured three capable singers and good musicianship but even with these ingredients, the final product came out more than a little bland. I gave them a few songs to impress me but after receiving a text message saying that the crowd at Stubb’s wasn’t too bad at all, I bolted for the amphitheatre.
And lo and behold, there was no line and I was in in no time. Contingencies be damned, we were back on plan. Of course, there was a price to be paid and that was sitting through the opening acts who were apparently hand-picked by R.E.M., something I hope isn’t entirely true. Florida’s Papercranes were almost impressively unimpressive, lacking the chops and charisma to make their dramatic goth-rock saleable. Georgians Dead Confederate fared much better with their sludgy yet surprisingly nimble stoner rock. Slow and heavy, I’m sure they’re in heavy rotation in Stipey’s iPod.
And then, it was R.E.M. It’d been some seven years since I last saw them live at the most excellent noontime show that shut down Yonge St in Toronto back in 2001 and while their recorded output since then hasn’t really grabbed me, they’ve always managed to stay in my good graces by virtue of how much they meant to me when I was younger and how those records still have a hold on me today. And while a greatest hits show would have gone over just fine, they were intent on selling Accelerate, out April 1, and reestablishing themselves as a proper rock band. And while the new material obviously didn’t resonate as much as the older material, it did seem to deliver on their promise to be louder, punchier and more concise. Of course, the older material got the best response – hearing “Second Guessing” had me bouncing around in the line to the photo pit like a little kid and “Fall On Me”, long one of my favourite songs in the world, had me singing along at the top of my lungs. I know SxSW should be about the new bands, the up-and-comers, but sometimes the veterans just bring it.
But no, I didn’t stay the whole set. I’ve still go their June 8 Molson Amphitheater gig on my calendar but don’t have any expectation that my final show of the night, Trespassers William, will be coming through town any time soon so missing their only SxSW performance would have been unacceptable. One of my favourite new discoveries of the last five years or so, they were slotted in at The Hideout, a little theatre in the back of a coffee shop that provided a nice, if exceedingly dark, atmosphere for them. Though they’ve made their name with languid space-rock led by Anna-Lynne Williams’ mournful voice and lap-style slide guitar, their live show was surprisingly dynamic, incorporating more noise, swells and crescendos than their recorded output would have ever implied. There was also a much larger electronic component to their sound that thankfully added to the appeal of their original sound rather than obscuring it. Happily, there was a full house for them as they previewed some material from their new record – due out sometime this year – and put a terrific cap on a day of music that had its ups and downs, but with the peaks thankful being much more memorable than the valleys.
Wednesday, March 12th, 2008
Photo by Francesca Perry
Greetings from sunny Austin, Texas, and let me just say how nice it is to have some scenery besides massive snow banks to look at for a change. Mostly painless trip down here yesterday and I’m now badged, rested and ready to get on with it.
There’s no shortage of SxSW survival guides out there, but as someone going into his fourth go-around and the big Texan to-do, I feel qualified to offer some sage advice to rookies. Basically, see what you’re going to see and don’t worry about what you’re missing. Because no matter what you’re seeing, you’re missing something and probably something great. But the people who are at that something great are also missing something else great. And so on and so on. So don’t worry about those three Flaming Lips secret shows that I – er, you – missed a couple of years ago and enjoy whatever you’re at. Unless is sucks. Then just go next door and see something else. And eat whenever the opportunity presents itself, because those opportunities will be few and far between. And granola bars crammed into your pockets are your friends.
When this year’s lineup was initially announced, I was kind of let down with the number of acts I’d hoped would be in attendance and weren’t, but as I’ve put together my schedule I’ve still got way too much to choose from (though I still have way too many conflicts as well as completely empty slots). But some acts take priority over others and this year, the one I’m going to catch as much as possible (currently looking like all of two times) is Emmy The Great. I’ve mentioned her in the context of her appearance on the Lightspeed Champion record but her work under her own name has been completely beguiling as well. She’s a folksinger at the core but with a lovely voice and gift for melody coupled with a sharp eye for songwriterly detail and an acerbic wit that reminds me of Billy Bragg if he were a twenty-first century, twentysomething English girl more focused on the personal than the political. Her breakup song “Canopies And Grapes” just slays me.
There’s no album yet, just a limited edition EP that I don’t expect to find a copy of and various singles, compilation appearances and live sessions floating around the internet. Hunting down her recordings has been an elbo.ws and hype machine scavenger hunt, but that’s refreshing in a sense – like the old days when I’d roam used CD shop to used CD shop looking for that elusive import single to complete a collection. Of course, you’re at the mercy of different bit rates and dodgy meta tagging but that’s progress for you.
In addition to the samples I’ve linked below (including her contributions to the Kruger Magazine singles club), check out her Black Cab Session (whose proprieters Londonist has an interview with) and if you’re in the UK, this MTV UK session. I will have to make a point of watching that when I’m in the UK in a couple months. Yes, I’m crossing the Atlantic to watch an MTV feature. Yay me.
MP3: Emmy The Great – “Easter Parade”
MP3: Emmy The Great – “Hold On”
MP3: Emmy The Great – “Paper Trails”
MP3: Emmy The Great – “MIA” (live from Black Room Sessions)
MP3: Emmy The Great – “The Hypnotist’s Son” (live from Black Room Sessions)
Video: Emmy The Great – “Gabriel”
Video: Emmy The Great – “Easter Parade”
Video: Emmy The Great – “MIA”
MySpace: Emmy The Great
Also high on my to-see list are Scotland’s Frightened Rabbit. They’re deserving of a proper post on their own which I’ll get to post-SxSW, probably, but the elevator pitch would be The Twilight Sad as a folk band. Lovers of thick Scottish accents, line up here. Their new album The Midnight Organ Fight is out April 15.
MP3: Frightened Rabbit – “Head Rolls Off”
MP3: Frightened Rabbit – “The Modern Leper”
Video: Frightened Rabbit – “The Grey”
Video: Frightened Rabbit – “Heads Roll Off”
I feel compelled to mention that because of the sheer number of things I’ve got on the docket over the week, my coverage will be a little different than in past years – namely, look for all commentary and minimal outside linkage or media whilst I’m here. The amount of time it takes me to get all that together simply isn’t available. Instead, I’m intending to whip up an omnibus-type post after I get home that will have more MP3s, videos and photos than you can shake a stick at.
If you’re in Austin and need some assorted sundry planning tips, CBC Radio 3 (for whom I’ll also be blogging the festival over the course of the week) has a survival guide, Sched.org has been an invaluable if not quite comprehensive planning tool for official and unofficial showcases and parties, IMEEM has assembled playlists for every SxSW showcase (no mean feat), NPR has audio previews of their festival picks, Free Yr Radio endeavours to be your one-stop party reference spot, Pitchfork has a guide to goings-on, Variety also has some picks of their own. And, of course, if you get the chance on Friday and Saturday come by Club DeVille and the Mohawk for Hot Freaks – say hello, sit a spell.
And if you’re not in Austin, SxSW Baby has rounded up all of your live webcast options for the next few days. Throw some brisket on the grill, crack open a bottle of PBR, kick back and pretend you’re here.
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