SXSW 2004

3/20/04
2:00-5:00 pm
Pop Culture Press party @ The Dog and Duck
It was a pleasure to hit the party thrown by the magazine Pop Culture Press; it's safe to say High Bias wouldn't exist without the experience I gained working with the PCP folks for so long, and it's always good see editors Luke Torn and Kent Benjamin, former publisher Luann Williams and all the various writers and buddies I met along the way. Other friends showed up as well, and I probably saw more people I know at this event than at the entire rest of the festival. Due to my constant socializing, I didn't pay too close attention to most of the acts; I know the Boss Martians and Oranger performed, and that Harvey Sid Fisher, Susan Cowsill and Ron Flynt played solo during set changes, but none of them dragged my gaze away from my buds for long. The only exceptions were Austin act the Golden Apples, who played a fine set of straightforward, jangly power pop, and Scotland's Trashcan Sinatras, whose beautifully crafted, soulfully heartfelt, gentle guitar pop was absolutely captivating—which is ironic, since the Sinatras were the quietest bunch in the lineup. But they were brilliant, and made me want to haunt record shops to find their older albums, not to mention get in line early for the new one to be released later this year.

Celebrity sighting: local singer/songwriter Shane Bartell

8:00 pm
Myracle Brah @ Pecan St. Ale House
I had the 8 pm slot open for Saturday, so I decided to check out Myracle Brah in the hopes that I'd run into Parasol/Rainbow Quartz publicist Michael Roux, whom I'd missed at the PCP party. The Baltimore-based Brah, who revolve around former Lovenut leader Andy Bopp, made straight-up power pop, loud and melodic with roots in both three-chord bar band rock and hard rock. The trio's songs were catchy, including one particularly energetic number that the drummer claimed had been "scientifically proven by Johns Hopkins University to be the best song ever written," though I thought a harmony-rich midtempo ballad was the strongest thing in its repertoire. For me, the band was easy to like but hard to love, as I hear about a million power pop albums a month and have become severely jaded about the form. The crowd seemed to seriously dig it, though. (And I did find Michael, meeting face to face for the first time a guy who's been a supporter of High Bias since day one. Good on yer, mate.)

9:00 pm
Chris Lee @ Maggie Mae's
I missed Chris Lee last year and regretted it when I heard about the intimate show, with Lee performing for a mere handful of folks. Well, there wasn't much more than that this year. On the one hand, I was grateful, since I was able to enjoy a great artist without being jostled by a crowd. On the other hand, I still can't figure out why this guy isn't attracting hordes of punters. So many singer/songwriters have good songs but can't sing 'em worth a damn, while others use powerful voices to hide mediocre songwriting skills. Lee is one of the rare examples of a great singer writing his own great songs—it's like the voice of Justin Timberlake singing the compositions of Leonard Cohen. Accompanied only by a cellist and his own acoustic guitar, Lee played "Bronx Science (Julie Ann)," "Sail On" and others from his latest record Cool Rock to a shockingly sparse crowd; despite all the people talking up his music, he still can't draw more than a dozen or so curiosity seekers, and that's simply a crime. Their loss, I guess, which included missing a gorgeously soulful version of the Band's "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down." The punters don't know what they're missing.

10:00 pm
Danko Jones @ Emo's
It was a tough choice deciding between the Dragons and Danko Jones, but Jones won out, simply because I can throw a Dragons album on the stereo whenever I want, but Jones' records are difficult to find. Besides, he's a stone hoot in concert, where his blues-based punk rock & roll meets his raging libido for a guaranteed good time. The Toronto-bred/Stockholm-based Jones and his rhythm section make music in the tradition of Bo Diddley's "I'm a Man" and Muddy Waters' "Hoochie Coochie Man"—the songs are about Jones' bulletproof self-confidence as much as anything. Energy pours off him during butt rocking cuts like "Lovercall" (which actually features a bit of self-deprecation, just so we know he's not a total egomaniac), "Play the Blues" and "Mama Raised a Devil Child," and the crowd responded enthusiastically. Jones ended his set with "Feel It Tonight," a driving rocker that halts its relentless forward momentum long enough for Jones to deliver a sermon namechecking dead rockers from Joe Strummer to Jimi Hendrix to Johnny Cash. It's pure theater, of course, but Jones handles it with style and rock & roll energy to burn. If only he'd brought some of his CDs with him to sell…

Celebrity sightings: Blaine Cartwright and Ruyter Suys of Nashville Pussy

11:00 pm
The Wildhearts @ Emo's Jr.
I've been waiting for this show since January, when I found out the Wildhearts were playing SXSW. I've been in love with this band for a couple of years now, after discovering their (then) lone US release Earth Vs. the Wildhearts, easily one of the best rock & roll records of the past 15 years, and have been dying to see them live for ages. Now that they finally have a second American release (Riff After Riff on Gearhead) they're hitting these shores for their first Stateside tour ever as part of a Gearhead package with the Dragons. (They switch over to the Darkness' US trek in April.) My personal expectations were very high for this show; the band has a rep for being a terrific live act when they can keep it together. Lo and behold, they lived up to my lofty hopes. Roaring out of the gate with "I Wanna Go Where the People Go," one of their many British hit singles, the Wildhearts were tight, loud and flawlessly rocking. Nothing could stop the set's forward momentum of melodic masterpieces—drummer Stidi broke a kick drum pedal and it barely slowed them down. Interestingly, despite playing for a primarily American audience (which went apeshit from the first note, by the way), the band played only two songs from their US releases, "Greetings From Shitsville" from Earth Vs. and "O.C.D." from Riff. The other seven numbers came from the troop's British and Japanese releases, though the melodies were so instantly ear-catching and the choruses so easy to sing along with, it didn't really matter. Especially since the Yanks up front seemed to know all the words anyway—where the hell did they find those records? The vocals weren't mixed as upfront as I would have liked, but enough of the band's harmonies still shone through; besides, it's all about the riffs, baby. Forget Guided By Voices, the White Stripes or even the Darkness—this, my friends, is a fucking rock & roll band.

12:00 am
"Demons" @ Emo's Jr.
Following up the Wildhearts' amazing show would be difficult, but Sweden's "Demons" (no, I don't know why the quotation marks are part of the name) proved up to the task. After a hyperbolic introduction from a Gearhead dude, the Stockholm quartet hit the stage running and ready to rock. Despite having its equipment stolen early in its current US tour, the band's spirit was not dampened, as it ripped through future garage punk/hard rock classics as "Blackballed," "Degeneration Hotel" and "The Devil in Me." Alas, the band was preaching to the already converted, and there weren't many of us; most of the audience disappeared after the Wildhearts' set to get in line for the overhyped Hives. "Demons" gave it their all anyway, rocking out as if this were their last show on earth, and treating the faithful to a barnburning medley of Johnny Kidd's "Shakin' All Over," Bo Diddley's "Who Do You Love," Big Joe Turner's "Baby Please Don't Go" and the Pagans' "What's This Shit Called Love?" that split the difference between pumping the barflies and tweaking the geeks. It was a cool-ass rock & roll show, by a band that has the songs to back up the energy, and I'm sorry most of the SXSW audience felt the material-impaired Hives would somehow be a better investment of their listening time. Oh well, someday bands like "Demons" will be take over the world.

1:00 am
Place of Skulls @ Blender Balcony at the Ritz
Though in years past I've tried to see a Texas act as my final SXSW show, this year I decided to check out Place of Skulls, another band I dig but have managed to miss every time it hits town. Led by guitarist Victor Griffin, formerly of stoner metal progenitors Pentagram, Place of Skulls continues the Black Sabbath tradition of downtuned, heavy-as-an-obese-rhino sludge rock, where the rhythm deliberately plods and the riff is all. In the Skulls' case, though, Griffin's lyrics, a peculiar but workable mix of spirituality and rage, are just as important, so a venue with a high ceiling that sucks the vocals up to the top of the building was probably not the best place to appreciate them. Of course, the trio was so mindfuckingly loud I probably wouldn't have understood a word he sang (in a fine voice, by the way) in any case. The dude was playing through three massive Orange amplifiers, after all—even the bass couldn't compete with Griffin's low end. Still, there's something to be said for witnessing such a display of pure power and volume, especially with riffs and solos as smart as Griffin's. Leaving my ears ringing seemed a fitting way to end this year's SXSW. I had more fun this time around that I've had in years. I guess the time off did my poor brain, not to mention frazzled heart, some good.

Celebrity sightings: local singer/songwriter Darin Murphy, Porn's Tim Moss, Acid King's Lori S., White Cowbell Oklahoma's Clem

And now, the awards...

Biggest surprise: Audra Kubat
Biggest disappointment: Destroyer
Artists I most wish I could have seen had I the magical ability to be in several places at once: the Church, Mission of Burma, VALIS, the Decemberists, Silver, Big Star
Loudest band: Place of Skulls, hands down
Most frequently used guitar: the Les Paul Standard
Most frequently sighted faux-celebrity: Beatle Bob
Most annoying Beatle Bob sighting: jumping onstage to dance during the Posies' set. Enough already.
Only day without a Beatle Bob sighting: Saturday

Michael Toland
Editor-in-Chief