SXSW 2002

The South By Southwest Music Festival seems to be shrinking in a barely noticeable but inexorable way. Every year I find myself less and less interested in the trade show and the accompanying panel discussions. This year the only reasons I'll find myself in the convention center will be to pick up my badge and check out some of the acts on the daytime acoustic stage that I'll be unable to catch at night. And really, that's the main reason to attend the festival in the first place: the music. Even though the fest's ability to draw big-name acts has diminished over the past few years, it still attracts tons of great bands I've never heard or always wanted to check out, concentrated in one place. The trade show may no longer be any great shakes, but the music, contrary to its detractors, remains as strong as ever.

3/13/02
8:00 pm
Chris Black and the Holy Ghost @ Ritz Theater
After finding parking, enjoying a burger at Hut's and killing time at Waterloo Records, I head down to the Ritz Theater for the first act of the evening. The Ritz doesn't host music nearly as often as it used to, but it becomes active during SXSW. It's a nice joint, with theater-style seating in front of the stage and decent sound. It's a good place to check out an artist like Austin's Chris Black and the Holy Ghost. Led by Shoulders/Golden Arm Trio bassist Black and featuring members of the Trio and the Blue Noise Band, the Holy Ghost is Hell's jazz band. The rhythm section shuffles and lurches forward, threatening to swing at any moment; the guitar stings and skronks; the horns (sax and trombone) punctuate the musical phrases with blurts, belches and occasional solos; the vibes, played with a bow as well as mallets, swirl in and out of the arrangements like a nervous ghost. It's noise and frenetic, but never chaotic or unfocused. Holding court above it all is Black, yowling into an old-fashioned microphone like the bastard spawn of Nick Cave and Diamanda Galas, spinning tales of good intentions gone bad and love affairs gone south with the relish of a carnival barker hawking the bearded fat lady. Black seems to become possessed by his unsavory characters, weaving under their influence as if he'd ingested too much, accenting the unreal world in which he's walking by throwing glitter into the air at random intervals. It's quite a performance, equal parts Tom Waits and a band of demented but skilled street performers. What a nice way to start off the festival.

9:00 pm
Brobdingnagian Bards @ BD Riley's
After that exorcism, it's time for the pub BD Riley's and something completely different: the Brobdingnagian Bards. The Bards are an Austin-based Celtic folk duo with a currently hot (for obvious reasons) MP3 entitled "Tolkien." With a bespectacled, long-haired hippie type on the autoharp and a clean cut, bemused straight man on recorder and mandolin, both in kilts, the Bards present an interesting visual image already, especially in the T-shirt-and-black-jeans world of indie rock that dominates SXSW. Besides performing spirited renditions of classic traditional tunes like "Whiskey in the Jar," the pair also offer their own cheeky originals, such as "Do Virgins Taste Better Than Those Who Are Not?" (to dragons, you pervert) and a song whose title I didn't catch that turned appreciation of Star Wars into a drinking game, complete with John Williams quotes. They also cover the Barenaked Ladies' "If I Had a Million Dollars" (as "If I Had a Million Ducats") and close the show with a cheerful rendition of "Always Look On the Bright Side of Life," from my favorite Monty Python movie, The Life of Brian. They play well (especially the autoharpist—I have a new respect for that instrument), but their good-natured humor (example: "We are the Brobdingnagian Bards. A bard by any other name—would have a shorter name.") seems lost on a jaded music industry audience. The Bards get nice applause after every tune, and sell a few of their self-released CDs, but their jokes are usually met with stony silence. I know the music industry is in a slump right now, but loosen up already!

10:00 pm
The Boggs @ Red Room
Following that palette-cleansing set, it was time to catch one of the festival's buzz bands, the Boggs. I've read rave reviews of their debut album, which I also heard playing over the sound system of not one but two record stores over the past week, so I guess the Red Room will probably be packed. I'm not wrong—the line goes out the door, though the club isn't yet to the point of being badge-and wristband-only. The young, stylish Brooklyn quartet is known for its devotion to folk music in its purist form, preferring the raw recordings of the Carter Family, Alan Lomax field recordings and especially their namesake Dock Boggs to the slick, adult contemporary-friendly noodlings that passes for folk these days. In other words, despite looking like the Strokes and being the toast of the indie rock world, these boys take what they do very seriously. The band's takes on traditional folk tunes lean more on the catalogs of iconoclasts like Boggs than the usual, tired remakes, and the combination of the high energy level (courtesy the hyperactive drummer) and the skill with which the members pick (both guitarists are damn near virtuosos, especially the bearded dude on the slide) prove their dedication. The singer's untutored bawl is more enthusiastic than melodious, but it fits the combo's turbocharged acoustic approach. Now if only we' be been able to hear them clearly. It takes the soundmen over 20 minutes to figure out how to get the Boggs through the sound system of what is less a club than a loft over another club (the music from which could be heard through the floor). This leaves the band barely half of its allotted time to state its case, and even then the vocals and slide guitar are barely audible. Considering that I'll be returning to the Red Room on Friday to see the great Swedish rock band The Soundtrack of Our Lives, whose sound needs will be far more intricate than the Boggs', this does not bode well. Regardless of the dismal sonics, though, the band is good enough that I mentally bump their album to the top of my "must acquire" list.

11:00 pm
The Warlocks @ Hard Rock Cafe
From one buzz band to another, I head to the recently opened Hard Rock Cafe to catch L.A.'s Warlocks, the first "badges only" performance of the evening. An outgrowth of indie psych/pop darling the Brian Jonestown Massacre, the Warlocks move away from the Massacre's Stones-obsessed pop songs and towards the Velvet Underground's wall-of-noise approach. With three guitars, two drum kits and the bassist's charismatic sneer, it would be difficult for this band to be sedate and tasteful, so it doesn't even try. With melodic songs built on simple riffs, the sextet simply barrels forward, building an edifice of feedback and distortion that would be tedious if the band wasn't so intense about it. All the songs sound the same, but in that good way that the Ramones and Social Distortion get away with. The Warlocks' performance is an exercise in rock mantra; there's nothing innovative going on here, but the band does what it does very well. So well, in fact, it earns the band an encore, which I miss, as I have only a couple of minutes to get to the next club.

12:00 midnight-1:00 am
Coffee Sergeants, Ron Flynt and the Bluehearts @ The Chile Pepper
It's off to the Chile Pepper, a small Margarita bar serving as a venue this year, and two of Austin's best bands: the Coffee Sergeants and Ron Flynt and the Bluehearts. The Sergeants have been plying their smart, earnest popcraft for over a decade now, without the recognition they deserve. The quartet has moved in a louder, rockier direction over the past year, with the folk and psychedelic elements of their sound informing the music in a more subtle manner. In particular, guitarist Carey Bowman has really come into his own, peeling off meaty leads and shimmering textures in equal measure. As with other recent shows (few and far between as they are), the Sergeants concentrate on tunes from their forthcoming album. Songs like "Look Around" and "You Should Know" are some of their catchiest numbers yet, straightforward melodic rockers not beholden to any particular style. They still find room for older gems like "To Be As One" and "The Blessing House," but this set points toward a brightly shining future. Hopefully the out-of-towners take notice.

Former 20/20 stalwart Ron Flynt has become an expert at creating pop music for adults without succumbing to adult contemporary blandness, and he is in fine form tonight. It helps that the current version of the Bluehearts eschews keyboards and goes for a tougher power pop sound; even better is the temporary presence of his former 20/20 bandmate Steve Allen. (Considering that Allen and Flynt are the only members of that band to be present on every record, this is essentially a 20/20 reunion.) Flynt plays a handful a new songs with an overtly Beatleseque flavor, plus his Bluehearts classic "I See Blue;" he also graciously allows Allen to perform a couple of tunes from his own solo record. The quartet even performs its contribution to a Gene Pitney tribute record, the Pitney-penned Ricky Nelson classic "Hello Mary Lou." But the heart of the set is the 20/20 gems peppered throughout. It's a pleasure to hear "Remember the Lightning," a bonafide power pop classic, performed by the guys who created it. Due to the variety of viewpoints, this set isn't as focused as previous Bluehearts shows, but it's vastly entertaining.