|
by Kent H. Benjamin
Associate Editor, Pop Culture Press
Well, it was another really great SXSW Music and Media Conference in Austin, Texas, this past March. And yet another personal candidate for 'Best SXSW Ever' for me, in spite of some frustrating scheduling and occasionally uncooperative weather. Record attendance, from what I've heard. 1300 bands playing showcases over five nights about 80 clubs. Sheer music and schmooze overload on all fronts. This rather lengthy blog will give you a good idea what it feels like to experience SXSW as an Austinite..
SXSW is starting earlier every year, it seems, possibly because more and more folks come for the film (which starts the weekend before) conference and stay for the music conference. And just as possibly because, as locals have realized in recent years, more and more of the industry bigwigs, to whom music is just a day job, like to come during the week, and fly back home for the weekend. So while a mere five years ago, Wednesday night was fairly dead, only the Austin Music Awards (which has always had limited appeal for out-of-towners) and a few local bands to entertain you. Now, Wednesday is clearly the "new Saturday" and it's official. What really changed this year was that there were now Tuesday night non-SXSW events, and day parties all day Tuesday.
Indeed, the day party phenomenon has officially gone off the map. Even as recently as last year, during the day Thursday - Saturday, you could always drop by the convention center, look in on the panels, and troll the trade show and schmooze to your hearts content. This year, I barely saw most of the out of town friends I wanted to find and spend some time with. They were all at day parties. Panels at the Convention Center suffered accordingly from paltry attendance. Even more bizarre, SXSW had a significant panel -- an interview with Elvis Costello -- on Wednesday afternoon, a day/time in the past in which nothing but registration and mentor panels happened (leaving some of us unsuspecting locals not having requested that day off from our day jobs).
Visitors to Austin this year got a real taste of Austin's weather. Normally during SXSW it's moderately coolevenings up to quite warm days, generally the first true days of spring here. But during SXSW this year, our weather was every bit as eccentric and unpredictable as Austin weather can often be. From just above freezing cold Wednesday night, to evenings where you kinda needed a coat outside but were sweltering in said coat inside, to very hot days, to monsoon-like rains and a hail storm, to, yes, a few hours of what could indeed pass for spring in Central Texas. Totally all over the place, sometimes during the course of a single day.
They made some welcome improvements to the festival this year. Notably, (if you're local or in town early), you could register starting on Tuesday. I did, and it took no longer to park or to register than the few minutes for them to print out my badge. Zero line. Mind you, this year's liability-conscious breakaway lanyards (the little thingie that hangs around your neck to display your badge) were a complete joke. Mine (with a BMI logo on it) would come unclasped in just a slight breeze, let along snagging it on anything. It would barely stay clasped, period. Needless to say, it went into the trash to be replaced by the non-politically correct non-breakaway ones so that my badge didn't go 'missing' on the first night out. They also added the local downtown transit buses, the Dillos, to make nightly loops through the entertainment district, which I thought was a brilliant and long overdue idea (tho I routed myself this year to more or less be able to park and stay where I was). There's also a nifty new downtown spot to park (about which I'll say nothing more, as I hope word doesn't get out about it) that made parking a snap this year.
I started off Tuesday by picking up my pal Art Fein of Art Fein's Poker Party in from LA, and by going out to meet Jan & Dwight Twilley from Tulsa, and my pal Steve Allen (of 20/20) from Nashville, who was accompanied by a musician friend Mike (also from Nashville) who he'd run into at the airport. Nice meal and chat at the Chili Parlour, before heading out to Ron Flynt's Jumping Dog Studios in northeast Austin. Flynt is Allen's partner in 20/20, and when Allen decided to come to town this year just to hang and see some music, the two were drafted into accompanying Twilley in his (second ever) acoustical performance at a DMI Records private party on Thursday. Now, I knew I probably couldn't make that acoustic performance, as it was opposite a panel I was moderating on that day, so a chance to hang out with my close friends the Flynts AND get to see the three rehearse sounded like the evening's best ticket.
I have to say that as someone who's been a huge Dwight Twilley fan since his first record (1975's "I'm on Fire") who bought 20/20's first single in 1978 (because Phil Seymour of the Dwight Twilley Band played drums on it), it was quite a thrill to be sitting there watching the three rehearse. First they worked on a very old, unreleased song from 1974 or earlier that used to be sung as a duet by Twilley and Seymour. Called "The Two of Us," the song was eventually released in the '90s on the now out of print The Great Lost Dwight Twilley Album (for which I wrote the liner notes). I don't think the song was ever at any point in Twilley's career performed in front of an audience, and it was certainly not something I'd have ever expected to hear Twilley perform. Flynt and Allen had both learned the song individually, and even at the first run through, it sounded excellent. And there was a bit of a Syd Barrett "Have you got it yet" moment as Dwight unintentionally played it slightly different every time. Then Jan wanted Steve and Ron to hear the edited version of the excellent new track "King of the Mountain" from Twilley's just-released album 47 Moons (there's a radio sampler with edits of three songs) as they wanted to play the song like the edit. And a bit of comic hilarity ensued when neither Jan, Ron's wife Brooke, nor I could see the front of the CD player to find the 'play' button (hey, it was dark and I'd had some frozen margaritas for supper!). We finally got one of the kids' karaoke machines and used that. Another bit of hilarity as they all played the song along to the karaoke machine! It was getting late by then, and we had to split while they were still rehearsing, as I had to be up for work before 6am the next morning.
Get off work at 4pm, and Art Fein picked me up. Would've loved to have gone to Jason Cohen and Susan Shepard's wedding party at Hole in the Wall, but it mostly happened while I was at work, and trying to get in to Elvis Costello's interview session at the Convention Center sounds like a hassle to park and get in to on time. So, we ran some errands, then dropped by Cheapo Records, where we caught sets by Eric Hisaw and someone before that whose name I didn't get. Hisaw was excellent as usual. Had to leave just before Chrissy Flatt played, which was a shame, because her newest album Walk With Kings is excellent. Then I dropped Fein at Threadgill's to see some LA act he's hot on, and I went to the Guitartown party thrown at Mother Egan's by my friend Lil' Deb. I arrived too late (I thought) to see Stan Ridgway of Wall of Voodoo, who I'd really wanted to see, but expected to catch Steve Wynn and the Miracle Three (who year before last were probably the best band playing SXSW). As it happened, Stan and Steve had switched sets to accommodate Stan, so I wound up missing my only chance to see Wynn play with a full band, which bummed me out. On the other hand, Ridgway and his duo were quite excellent, and I really enjoyed their set. Congrats to Li'l Deb for putting on another excellent party.
From there, it was back over to Threadgill's for a media dinner. Nice folks, good eats. After that we snagged some good parking (not going to tell, nossir, not going to tell) and went to see Robyn Hitchcock at Emo's. The place was packed, and Robyn was brilliant as usual, playing a number of new songs. I ran into a half dozen Austin friends on the street, and went to see Elizabeth McQueen at a little place called Latitude off 6th that was brand new, just opened. McQueen's an Austin act I'd never seen, and her 2005 album of covers of British pub rock songs is just terrific, and we all thought it was a gas seeing and hearing those songs which most of us had never heard an actual band (just a record) play, since many of the pub rock greats from the UK circa '77-76 never actually played over here, certainly not in the south. And anyway, any band playing Rockpile and Graham Parker covers is a no-brainer to go see. Terrific set.
Then I hooked up with Art back at the car, and we saw Dwight and Jan Twilley outside a hotel on the curb, waiting for a cab. So we grabbed 'em, and all headed over to see Susan Cowsill and her band (who played our showcase at SXSW 2004). Dwight and Susan were a couple for ten-ish years, and Jan used to be married to John Cowsill (and is a grade school pal of Susan's), so it was old friends all around (I've known Susan for years, too). Cedar St., where they played, has an outdoor stage in between two bars, and it was just freezing cold (seriously unseasonable weather for Austin). The joint was packed, and Cowsill and company absolutely brought the house down. It was the best show I've ever heard her play, debuting songs from her recent album Just Believe It along with some choice covers. With terrific new songs like "Talkin' (Shit Around Town)" and "I Know You Know," and a stunning cover of Sandy Denny's "Who Knows Where The Time Goes," she wowed the attending (and co-sponsoring) KUT-FM folks so much so that they offered her a locally prestigious KUT Live Set appearance during SXSW (I think previously, she'd been booked for a short interview and maybe a single acoustic song, and they upped her to a full-length, full-band performance on the spot). After the gig, Art and I hung out with Dwight, Jan, Susan, her husband/drummer/all-round wonderful cat Russ Broussard, and former Austinite/Creem/Rolling Stone editor Ed Ward (another longtime friend), in town from Berlin. With company like that, leaving just didn't seem to be a good idea, tho there were some terrific bands I'd hoped to see.
I'd planned all along to see Elvis Costello & the Imposters at La Zona Rosa. I knew it would be really tough to get in, so I reckoned I'd get there a good bit early and see Tift Merritt's set just before theirs. But by the time we all got done yakking, it was late, I knew it would be tough if not impossible to get into LZR by that time, and Art really wanted to see Ian McLagan & the Bump Band at The Saxon Pub, so I agreed, as it was on the way home anyway. As usual, they were great. Mac's been playing most Thursdays all year at a free happy hour gig at the Lucky Lounge, and who knows how many times I've seen them this year. But, as my mate Hunter and I often reiterate, Mac's band, Scrappy Jud Newcomb on guitar, Don Harvey on drums, and Mark Andes (Spirit/Jo Jo Gunne) on bass, is just so brilliant that we have to keep going back. These guys have such a wonderful musical chemistry, that even seeing them do essentially the same songs (the sets are never identical, tho) each week, there's almost always just moments of pure magic. Three Small Faces songs, 3-5 Faces songs, a few covers, and all the best from Mac's five solo albums. Maybe Scrappy, who rarely ever plays the same thing the same way, will pull out some spine-tingling solo, with Andes, who watches Scrap and Mac like a hawk, following along on every little detour. So it's always fresh, always moving, always worth seeing again and again for just those moments. I also spotted Stan Ridgway in the pool table side of the club, who'd been scheduled to play our party on Saturday, but had had to cancel to do a radio gig up in Dallas promoting his Sat. night Dallas gig. He'd seemed so nice by email that I wanted to introduce myself. We wound up having a long chat about how much Brian Wilson's Smile CD and live show had meant to each of us. Only at SXSW do you run into someone whose records you bought decades ago and talk about someone else's new record that you both love.
Among the (way too many) band's I'd like to have caught that night were: John Cale & Alejandro Escovedo, Hillary York, Tim Lee, The Sights, Walter Tragert, Jason Falkner, Jon Auer, The Redwalls, The Donnas, The Friends of Lizzy, The Pretty Please, Billy Idol, Vic Chesnutt, Sleater-Kinney, Walter Tragert, Moonlight Towers, and Craig Marshall.
This year's keynote address was by Robert Plant, and while I wouldn't exactly count my self a fan (a fairly dreadful lead singer), he's somebody I've quite come to respect over the years, and I was quite curious to see what he'd say. But by the time I could get down there, he was wrapping up. I'd hoped to check in for my panel, then bop out to see Steve Wynn at Cheapo. Jason Falkner and Richard Fontaine were playing elsewhere, too. And wouldn't you know it -- I was moderating a panel from 1:15-2:30pm, while at various places around town, I was missing afternoon performances by Rachel Fuller (Pete Townshend's significant other, and Townshend was thought to be in attendance) at an invite-only do, the Soundtrack of Our Lives at Waterloo (probably my favorite band playing here this year), and the Dwight Twilley acoustic performance, only the 2nd of his entire career, with my pals Flynt and Allen.
Face Time With Ian McLagan was the title of the panel I moderated, and it was just Mac and I showing Faces TV appearances and telling Faces stories. Kier-la Janisse, programmer at Austin's Alamo Drafthouse chain (just voted #1 hippest movie theatre in America) came up with the idea that Mac and I should show Small Faces and Faces videos and introduce them at the Alamo. Which we'd done the previous August and again in December, to sold-out audiences. This time, with a shorter amount of time, we focused purely on the Faces. Attendance was thin -- there's just TOO much competition with afternoon label parties, and also, SXSW had not included our panel in an advance flyer that many attendees were using as their 'panel guide' instead of the big, thick official book. But I haveta say, most of the time at panels, people wander in and out all thru the panel. And I guess we were a bit of a hit, as I don't think anyone who came in left until the panel was over. Whatever, Mac and I both had a good time doing it, and I must also give props to the panel help and audio/visual assistants who were top-notch. Talked to Robyn Hitchcock a bit after, and was surprised to learn he knew Mac (six degrees of separation my ass, I think three is more accurate for most people).
They cut the panel a bit short, and I realized that if I drove and used the pay garage across the street, I MIGHT be able to make DMI's party at the Lucky Lounge and see Dwight Twilley. Ran into the aforementioned Ms. Janisse, and gave her a ride over, and we got there in time to see all three songs of their set: "King of the Mountain," "The Two of Us," and a third song lost to my memory (was it "Walkin' on Water?"). Brilliant, over almost before it began. Stayed around and chatted for a bit. Missed a ton of great afternoon gigs: Soundtrack of Our Lives (again), The Dears, The Ms, Ash (I could never get an invite to that one, tho), Graham Coxon, and the Crimea. Talked a bit too long, in fact, to make it back over to the Convention Center as I'd planned to see the 13th Floor Elevators panel with a newly 'well' Roky Erickson, which I really wish I'd seen.
Steve Allen and I had wanted to spend some time hanging out and seeing bands, so I took him to see Nic Armstrong and the Thieves, who were playing an invite-only party at Club DeVille (one of my favorite outdoor afternoon spots, I should note). Armstrong is a Manchester kid relocated to Nottingham, who'd been discovered prior to his record coming out by Paul Weller, and asked to open gigs. His album, The Greatest White Liar (New West) was hands-down my favorite album of the first part of the year, an absolutely inspired mish mash of garage rock, '60s Merseybeat, and Britpop sounds. And let's face it, anyone cool enough to cover Lieber/Stoller's hilarious "Down Home Girl" from the 2nd Stones album, and then to be hip enough to graft the guitar solo from Donovan's "Sunshine Superman" onto the bridge. Brilliant! Frankly, the band blew me away - best new band of SXSW 2005 with no competition. The 2nd guitarist looks like a red-headed Steve Marriott circa 1965, sings and plays great. The drummer, who many compare to Keith Moon, really reminds me a lot more of the late Chris Curtis, the terrific and underrated drummer of The Searchers in the '60s (watch him on the NME Poll Winner's concert in '64 and see what I mean) -- a drummer AND a front man/singer. Great bassist, too -- Shane. Just an amazing show, cool place to see a band, great time had by all. And they were already playing new songs not on the album. Saw them again in June at Stubb's with my best friend from Memphis in town and in tow, and thought they were even better. Make no mistake about it, this is one of THE greatest new acts of the decade. Several months on, it's still one of my most-played albums of the year, and a lock for at least my personal top three of 2005. I LOVE this band.
As it happens, Steve had never seen Ian McLagan and the Bump Band, so after snagging some good chow at Scholtz's (knew that place would be quick in/out for BBQ), we went BACK to the Lucky Lounge and caught Mac's happy hour set. Great as usual.
Steve split off to meet some friends, and I hiked over to La Zona Rosa, for what was pretty sure to be the night's hottest, impossible-to-get-into venue of new bands. When I arrived, I saw something that was a SXSW first: people with wristbands were going straight in, while people with badges were in a long line. This was caused by the new badges needing to be scanned to read the new, cheaply embedded microchips. I was unperturbed, because I KNEW we'd get in, but it was very droll listening to the whining LA/NYC scenester types lamenting that they had BADGES and couldn't understand why THEY weren't getting preferential treatment. Having heard many thousands of wristband holders over the years making the opposite complaint, I found it highly entertaining. First up was Be Your Own PET, one of this festival's youngest bands. They were greatly entertaining, even if they don't have an original idea or sound anywhere in sight. Led by diminutive lead singer Jemina Pearl, who looks and acts about as close to Cherie Currie circa 1976 as possible, the teens make up for what they lack in musicianship (most notably the drummer's inability to keep time -- practice playing with a metronome, that's what they're for) in enthusiasm. Their debut single "Damn Damn Leash" is the most memorable of their pop/punk songs, and deserves to be a minor hit. Pearl has charisma to burn, and if they stay together, the band has a lot of promise. Mind you, I felt a bit like a pervert watching them, as I was probably the oldest person in the room.
Next up was the band I was really there to see, The Kaiser Chiefs, who I'd heard a lot about, but whose brand-new album I'd yet to hear. I have to say I was very pleasantly surprised, because they were just terrific (and I should note, one of very, very few bands I've ever seen at SXSW whose album I went right out and got). Their debut single, "I Predict A Riot," is one of the year's best, and songs like "Na Na Na Na Na" are instantly memorable. Great lead singer. In fact, just about everything I dig in a good band, from image to style to songs. The club was packed, and as the man said, the joint was rockin'. Bought their debut album the day after the festival, something I rarely do.
I'd toyed with the idea of racing way the heck away to 6th Street and seeing Robyn play again, but the distance was just too great, and as I'd already been going non-stop for 12 straight hours, I didn't think I was up to the hike. So I elected to stay for Louis XIV, who looked to be amusing. And were they ever! Imagine Status Quo circa 1967 led by Reg Presley, dressed in glam clothes, and playing Gary Glitter songs. Imagine a band who've spent ten times the amount of time posing in the mirror and imagining themselves as rock stars. The singer wore a heavy, double-breasted brown leather jacket (this in Austin, where the weather was back to usual - hot, and in a vastly oversold club with absolutely no moving air happening at all), and the backing singer/guitarist/keyboardist had his mod fop hair as if he's stepped out of the post-Pepper Tremeloes, and a white lace shirt. The singer had what appeared to be rhinestones glued to his eyelids, and all wore lots of make-up. Now, me, I LOVE a band that knowingly or not reminds me of the Troggs and early Status Quo, and love even more that they might not realize neither of those bands was ever hip. And since then, they've gone on to be quite a club draw, especially among young ladies. A July Austin gig with Nic Armstrong was overflowing with enthusiastic young girls. Go figure. As for me, still probably the oldest guy in the room, I went out and bought their album (The Best Little Secrets Are Kept, Atlantic, March 2005), too. Good, but not great, though "Finding Out True Love Is Blind" is a radio-ready classic. I laughed so hard I could barely stand up throughout their set. Great dumb, leering fun, and I'd go see 'em again anytime. By now, the club was so packed in preparation for the closing 1-2-3 punch of The Futureheads, Hot Hot Heat, and Doves, that I just had to squeeze my way back outside (where I was staggered at the length of the lines waiting to get in). The Futureheads' self-titled Sire album (produced by Gang of Four's Andy Gill) is one of my faves of the last 12 months, and I was dying to see them.
But, The Soundtrack of Our Lives were right next door at the same time. And SOL had only ever played festivals in Austin, never a regular or supporting gig, and I despaired of getting to see them, as I'd had to miss their two previous appearances, and, well, their four albums are among my favorite records of the last 10 years. And I figured the Futureheads were kids and would be back. So it was next door to see SOL. Now, they've only had one almost radio hit in the States -- "Surround Sister" -- and many of the punters there early to see Robert Plant simply didn't know who they were. At the Austin Music Hall (Austin's rank-smelling steel and concrete shed, the most uncomfortable place locally you'd ever hope to have to suffer through seeing a band at, beer-soaked concrete floors, not a seat in the venue for tired legs, priciest beer in Austin), one of SXSW's largest venues, then, they had a LOT of folks packed in who didn't know who they were. I'll bet a lot of them went out and bought their albums after the show, tho, because they were (typically) fantastic. Singer Ebbot Lundberg is a big, smiling, stationary bear of a man (like Bob "Bear" Hite of Canned Heat, only Lundberg rarely moves). The band's two guitarists are fabulous. I might have the names mixed, but I think Bjorn Olsson is the fair-haired guitarist stage right, with a mean line in Pete Townshend windmills, the group's Keith Richards. Stage left is (I think) Ian Person, who plays Clapton to Olsson's Townshend. The bassist is also terrific, younger than the others, and every bit as eager to make you watch him as the guitarists are. In fact, they remind me so much of The Who, in that with the exception of Lundberg, everyone else in the band spends the entire set trying to get you to watch them and only them, in fierce competition for the spotlight. While Lundberg just smiles beatifically, and laughs about it, too cool to compete himself, even though his very stillness is quite compelling. I've waited a long time to get to see them, and they not only didn't let me down, I liked them even better than I'd anticipated. One of the very finest rock bands working today, without a doubt. Out of a thousand bands playing SXSW this year, I doubt anyone there could touch 'em.
By this time, I'd been on my feet, talking, walking, moderating a panel, seeing bands, and schmoozing for 15 straight hours. I was toast. But I figured I'd check out a few songs by Robert Plant. Zep cancelled the only show they ever played near me in the day, so I never got to see them. Saw the Plant/Page 'reunion' tour, and it was fantastic, though. And I'd seen Jones play his jazz-rock fusion at an earlier SXSW. I wasn't expecting very much, to be honest. Plant has never interested me overly much as a singer or writer, and his lengthy solo career hadn't turned out an entire album's worth of songs I'd liked in all that time. So it might've been that my expectations were low, but I was pretty much blown away. I'd expected no Zep songs whatsoever, and he played radically rearranged versions that gave even some seriously over-played tunes new life. The new songs were all good to very good, memorable even on first listening. The band was excellent, versatile, and adventurous. But probably one of the all-time great SXSW moments for me was his cover of the 1969 Youngbloods song, "Darkness, Darkness." I'd always loved the song, butPlant's version was just stunning. Chills down my back the whole time. By this point, I was too tired to really hold out much longer. My feet and legs were screaming at me to sit down. I found a single dry spot all the way at the back by the women's head in which to rest, but the sound was crap and I couldn't see, and about five minutes of butt on concrete, and I was out of there, much as I wished I could've stayed for the remaining few songs. But it was a mile back to the car. Beat the crowd out, anyway.
Bands I've like to have seen Thursday, cloning being possible, included: The Rite Flyers, The 22-20s, Kathy McCarty, CC Adcock, The Shore, Missy Higgins, Robyn Hitchcock, The Adored, The Bloodthirsty Lovers, The Trashcan Sinatras (great at the PCP party last year), John Doe, Visqueen, Magnapop, Chris Stamey, Love Tractor, Webb Wilder, The Dears, Tony Joe White, Some Action, Graham Coxon, Kathleen Edwards, and Stan Ridgway. But this night I stuck with my policy of trying to see bands I'd not seen before.
Started the day off in fine fashion with breakfast at El Sol y Luna on South Congress, a small media event hosted by publicists Randy Haecker, Kay Clary, and Donica Christenson. It was fun, good to see some old friends, and briefly met Mojo's Sylvie Simmons, who I'd have loved more time to chat with -- maybe next year.
Afterwards, I went over to the Convention Center. Schmoozed at the Trade Show. Saw a good little band on the acoustic stage, The Ditty Bops while talking to my work roommate Ryan, who was working crew there.
At 2pm, I arrived early for the panel and saw God. Well, in the person of Brian Wilson. SXSW had a Smile panel with Wilson, Van Dyke Parks, David Leaf, and a couple of writers. You see, I got indoctrinated to the gospel according to Smile something like 30 years ago (I think it was Paul Williams who turned me on to it in Crawdaddy circa '69 or '70 -- missed seeing Paul here the last few years, I might add). And over the years, I've been acquainted with lots of the most important writers who perpetrated the Smile Myth (like Leaf, Domenic Priore, etc.). Had all the bootlegs. And finally hearing Wilson and Parks finish Smile in 2004, and seeing the full band/orchestra performance of it was plain and simply a religious experience for me. One of the most moving experiences of my musical life. So, really, there were bands playing all over town, but there was NOWHERE else for cool people to be but with Brian. I got there early enough for a great seat, which was good, as the joint was just PACKED. Hearing and seeing Brian's reaction to an audience of peers, journalists, and music fans was just fantastic. Certainly the most moving panel I've ever seen at SXSW. Brian was SO touched by the crowd's reaction that he was wiping tears away in spots. As was I to see it. Van Dyke was his smart-ass, funny self. Smile was/is/will remain one of the most amazing pieces of poetry, music, and Americana ever made. And I was just thrilled to see it getting it's due.
In the panel, we learned there was an unannounced screening of David Leaf's documentary on Smile, beginning in '66 and ending with the first British performance of the completed work in 2004, Beautiful Dreamer. I hadn't seen it on its lone pay TV broadcast (I don't do pay TV), although it's now included on the brilliant and recommended Smile DVD. The film was wonderful, and as a fan of Wilson (and the Beach Boys) since I was ten, it was just a thrill to watch it sitting on the row just in from of Wilson and his lovely wife Melinda (I could turn my head slightly, and see Brian watching the film out of my peripheral vision). And this is as good a place as any to give props to David Leaf, without whose love, support, and encouragement (not to mention fierce protectiveness) Brian Wilson might not have recovered and regained the confidence to make music again. God bless ya, David! And God bless Brian Wilson!
I was telling Austin Chronicle editor/SXSW founder Louis Black afterwards how much this meant to me -- a whole afternoon with Brian and Smile, and how my life just didn't get much better than this -- and Louis (a friend for some 23-4 years, and a former employer) just beamed a million dollar smile, clearly feeling exactly the same, and said 'I know!'
After several hours of smiling, so to speak, I needed a quiet place to decompress and went by the Dog & Duck, my favorite pub, to get a bite to eat. While there, I recruited my mate (and the manager) Hunter Darby to go see bands with me.
It was too late to catch The High Dials at Cheapo Records, or the great Ian Hunter at Town Lake (the big free late pm show on the riverbank), so we headed over to 6th Street, and went to see The Crimea at Exodus. I loved their debut EP, and played it heavily early this year. Live, so-so. Not great, not bad. Writing this a bit later, I can't recall a thing about them. LOVE the EP, tho. Then we went around the corner to see the great, relatively unheralded Wreckless Eric. The former Stiff records star (famed for "(I'd Go) The Whole Wide World" and "Reconnez Cherie") is sober these days, and was performing without a band. He'd been great several years earlier with a band, so we had high hopes. Accompanying himself on electric guitar, he didn't let us down. It was a terrific, intense, and exhilarating set highlighted by some terrific new songs. We'd go see Eric anytime!
As several of the acts I'd most wanted to see that night were rather distant (like Robyn Hitchcock at La Zona Rosa and earlier at The Cactus Café -- SXSW had a 'see Robyn every night in a different venue this year, the only artist ever accorded that honor, and rightly so!), we elected to stay on 6th, and went to see one of my very favorite UK acts, Ireland's Ash. They played at this unbelievably crappy club called Eternal. It was astounding overcrowded, and the club was just WAY too small for a band of Ash's stature (they've packed the outdoors at Stubbs in years past). There's a small balcony upstairs around the stage, but it's so close to the stage that either you're on the railing itself, or the stage is completely invisible. Likewise, on the floor, with columns and PA all around, there was room in front of the stage for maybe two dozen people to see, and everyone behind them couldn't see the band at all. We finally found a spot we could see rather behind/beside the band, but their roadies ran us off. So we settled for a GREAT spot where I could see Charlotte and Tim (when he was singing) thru a two-inch gap between the amps. The band were uninspired, it was the only mediocre performance I've ever seen by them, and in hindsight, it was an atrocious choice to attend, mainly because of the venue. I should've gone to see The Raveonettes or The Warlocks, who were both in easy walking distance. Oh life. I wanted to be sure to get to Stubbs early enough to guarantee entrance to the Dolls, so I went back to Elysium (next door, basically) to see England's long-gone punk/novelty act, The Rezillos, who were great fun.
Back in 1973, some wise guy had the bright idea of booking the New York Dolls and Iggy & the Stooges on a package tour of the Deep South. The show I saw in Sept. 1973 was in a 3000 seat theatre, attended by some 300 people, if that. It was/is one of the greatest shows I've ever seen in my life. The Stooges opened, and it was like seeing Mick Jagger fronting the Who. Iggy in his loin cloth and one leotard, hair died metallic silver. James Williamson wearing some black, see-through negligee top, doing windmills and leaping about like Townshend, but with tall platforms! The Dolls came out and basically were great, but couldn't follow them. I seem to have caught the Stooges on a really, really good night. Still, in spite of Todd's lousy production on their debut, the two Dolls albums (and all the outtakes, crappy sounding live albums, etc.) have always been among my all-time favorites. With three of the five original band members (well, four of six with Billy Murcia), many fans this year expected the New York Dolls to be a shadow of their former selves. Not me. I remembered all too well that David Johansen's first solo tour with Syl Sylvain on lead guitar had been within and inch of as good as the Dolls ever were. And with all due respect to the late Johnny Thunders (and I AM a fan), he played the same guitar solo on pretty much everything. Syl was always the main guitarist, and main backing singer. With a decent rhythm section, I figured they'd be pretty darned good. I was wrong, they were fantastic, maybe better than the Dolls were then. They'd been given a 90-minute slot at SXSW (something few bands get, certainly not bands without a big label). The rhythm section was indeed fine, maybe stronger than Killer and Jerry had ever been. The 'replacement' for Thunders was more than adequate. All the hits from both albums, some choice covers, and the token Shangri-Las song (this one a song I'd never heard them do), along with (surprise) a few new songs, which all sounded great. They were terrific, it just really sent chills down my back, and best of all, most of the crowd were youngsters who'd most assuredly never seen the band in the day, and all seemed to be totally into it. I was grinning so much my cheeks should've fallen off. Brilliant!
Among the bands I woulda seen if time had permitted: Mary Lou Lords, Exene, John Cale, Shonen Knife, Steve Wynn & the Miracle Three, Embrace, of Montreal, Guitar Wolf, and The Forty-Fives.
Saturday was the day that Pop Culture Press had their second annual afternoon party for SXSW at the Dog & Duck Pub, from noon until 7pm. This year's party was a great success, marred only by our editor/publisher Luke Torn coming down with some kinda virus and just being sick as a dog all day, and by a brief torrential downpour (about which more later). Kathy McTee and her friends did a terrific job setting up and manning a cool booth to sell magazines and for bands to sell merchandise. Duck manager/musician about town (Fire Marshals of Bethlehem, Wannabes, Dung Beatles, Dumptruck, American People, etc.) Hunter Darby, pub owner Susan Forrester, and all the staff were terrific. Steve Chapman of The Golden Apples served as stage manager, and the band were kind enough to let us use their backline (and Steve's drums). Thanks to Damon Lang, our excellent sound man. Thanks also to New Belgium beer for co-sponsoring. Thanks to all for making the event a huge success, and to all those who came to see music. The individual write-ups below will mostly be short since I got to spend very little time actually watching bands during the party, regrettably.
First up was The Lackloves, a great Rainbow Quartz band from Wisconsin, who are composed of several former members of the Blow Pops along with some other Milwaukee musicians. Their two most recent albums, Star City Baby and The Beat and the Time are both outstanding pop albums that've been played a great deal around my place, and they didn't disappoint at all. Really nice guys, too, and we were very glad we'd invited them after they'd asked us for a slot.
Austinite Craig Marshall played a fine set of material from his recent album Before The Fade Away next, accompanied by two other musicians.
Then there was an exciting performance by The Great Lines, next. Several members of the band used to be in popular UK act The Dentists, who've been described as 'the first great Britpop band.' Our former editor/publisher Luann Williams is a big fan (and longtime friend) of the band, and we booked them on her recommendation, and I have to say I was quite blown away by them. They were definitely the finest unsigned band that I saw at SXSW this year.
Susan Cowsill played a really excellent 'acoustic' set next. I say 'acoustic,' in quotes because basically her whole band was there with her. She's probably one of my favorite singers, period, and as usual, she had the crowd in the palm of her hands the whole time. A last minute addition to our showcase that really should've been an electric act, in hindsight. Still, this was her only acoustic performance of several at SXSW this year, so it was at least special and different.
Austin's The Golden Apples played next, turning in a terrific set of power pop from their slightly heavier 2nd album, Cooler Jets Will Prevail. Along with The Wannabes, Cotton Mather, The Rite Flyers, and the Moonlight Towers, Golden Apples are spearheading a bit of a power pop revival in Austin music. They're simply a terrific live band, and deserve to be far more widely known. They're every bit as good as the much more internationally known Cotton Mather.
The next short acoustic set was by Steve Allen and Ron Flynt of 20/20. Ron was playing to promote his wonderful new album, L.A. Story, on which Allen plays guitar, and they did a couple of old 20/20 favorites acoustically. Special guest Dwight Twilley came out next for what was scheduled to be a one-song appearance, playing "King of the Mountain." Now, I'd told Dwight that we were doing great on time schedule-wise, so if he wanted to do more than one song, it was cool. So he invited Susan Cowsill up to join him, Flynt & Allen, and original Dwight Twilley Band member Jerry Naifeh on percussion. The story I heard from her the next day was that just before he walked on stage, Dwight walked up to her and said "Do you remember that old song I sang with Phil in the Dwight Twilley Band, 'The Two of Us?'" and she replied "No." Thinking she was kidding about not remembering it, he called her up on stage to sing the song with him. I was sitting right beside the stage, and as a gust of wind nearly blew away the lyric sheets Ron had on the ground in front of him, I put my cell phone on it to weigh it down; seeing the lyrics to "Two of Us," I very nearly picked them up and handed them to Susan just in case. Twilley started in on the song, and Susan (who REALLY had no recall of the song whatsoever) said that as soon as she heard the first chords, the lyrics just popped into her mind. It was, I have to say, a real emotional highlight for me. And Dwight (separately) told me the next day that singing that song with Steve and Ron and Susan and Jerry was a really emotional highlight for him. He said it really made him miss the close partnership he had with Phil Seymour, his partner in the Dwight Twilley band. The Dwight Twilley Band, incidentally, never performed this song live.
You can see some photos of the Pop Culture Press party at our friend Lil' Deb's site at http://homepage.mac.com/dwilliams24/PhotoAlbum158.html. Scroll down past the pix of John Cale, Alejandro Escovedo, and Ian Hunter on Auditorium Shores and of Jon Dee Graham's showcase, and you'll see (outdoors Dog & Duck shots of) Deb and I, Luke and Deb's husband Ross, Beatle Bob and Deb, Ron Flynt and Ross, the Twilley performance (Jan Twilley is over his shoulder behind the stage on the left) with Steve Allen, Flynt and Jerry Naifeh, Rick Reill of the Grip Weeds, several shots of Steve Wynn with various PCP-related folks, and finally a side shot of Steve Wynn on stage in the deluge (I'm just off-camera to the left, believe it or not, trying to keep the high winds from blowing the tent away). Did I mention our party got the Beatle Bob seal of approval? Yep.
Next up were Jersey's The Grip Weeds, one of my favorite bands. They were showcasing songs from their latest Rainbow Quartz album Giant On the Beach. They're easily one of my favorite American bands, and their stage show was great as always. Wish they lived in Austin so that I could see 'em regularly, as, like many indie bands, they simply don't tour this far away from home.
The next acoustic act was Amy Rigby, and she was great as always. She played some new and old favorites. A highlight was when Amy's young daughter came out and played Amy's guitar, while Amy played a single snare drum, and they performed a couple of great punks songs (details of which I could've remembered if I'd written this in a more timely fashion).
Now, the sky had been looking threatening for a while, and I'd just been inside looking at the weather radio on TV, and just before the next act, I announced that it looked like there might be some hard rain coming, but it looked like it was gonna miss us, and if it did rain, it looked to be very brief. Famous last words. No sooner did Steve Wynn start his set than the heavens just opened up and absolute sheets of rain came down. Wynn had been playing all week with his fantastic band The Miracle Three, but two of them had flown back home that morning, so we were getting an 'exclusive intimate performance' with two electric guitars (which Wynn had promised me would be 'every bit as loud as the full band'). By the time he took the mic, tho, it had started sprinkling, so he changed his set accordingly to include a few classic Wynn songs (my favorite, "(Tell Me) When It's Over" and "Medicine Show") to a whole set of songs featuring the word rain, including Clapton's "Let It Rain." Wynn was clearly having a ball, and he told us later that it was one of the most memorable gigs he'd ever played. Steve Chapman, Damon, and I were all racing around madly trying to move everything under the tent/and/or under the Duck's covered outside deck -- all the amps, drums, everything. We were doing fine -- the musicians were out of the rain pretty much, and the soundboard was all covered, but, wouldn't you know, the only place our rented tent sprang a leak was directly over the soundboard. Wynn still played about 20 minutes, and the crowd took it all right in their stride.
Now, at this point, our sound guy had to save all his equipment, so while the rain stopped after a brief but intense downpour, we lost our PA. Huddling our heads together, we came up with a compromise: Amy Rigby sang a couple more songs to entertain the crowd (who were mostly all huddled together under the large tent over the parking lot, and then Dan Israel (an former Austin artist who relocated to his hometown of Minneapolis, where he received a Minnesota Music Award for Best Acoustic/Folk Artist in 2004) was kind enough to play a much longer than planned set to entertain the audience. Meanwhile, we all scrambled to assemble the small rented PA under the tent to serve the large stage, so that the remaining artists could play. A big hand from us for Dan to helping us out (I can honestly say I was so busy I barely heard a thing), and to the audience, who much to our surprise pretty much all stayed with us after the thunderstorm.
So, now a bit behind schedule (amazingly, only about an hour or so, even with the rain and all, if I remember), The Fire Marshals of Bethlehem. The Fire Marshals are John Croslin, songwriter/singer/guitarist of Austin's beloved late '80s act Zeitgeist/The Reivers. He's since gone on to be a very famous and in demand producer, and this is his first performing band in several decades. Hunter Darby and Kevin Carney, half of the Wannabes, are also songwriters and singers in the band, and in fact, the whole band is turning into a songwriters cooperative, with Julie Lowery (lead and harmony singer), violinist Jenny Smith, and drummer Dave Midor (ex-Javelin Boot) all adding songs as well. Their debut album, Songs for Housework, is one of the year's very best, and one of the finest Austin albums in a decade. It was a good set, well-received by the still substantial audience, marred only by the make-shift equipment set-up.
Finally, Mary Lou Lord and her band Emergency Music closed the show in fine fashion, the only set of the day I actually got to watch and listen to. Mary Lou sang songs from her brilliant CD Baby Blue, followed by a fine set by Emergency Music, a young band she's signed, then an acoustic set by Mary Lou, then a closing electric set together. It was a warm and wonderful ending to a terrific day, probably an hour and a half over schedule by the end, but a really great day.
Hunter and I ate supper and went over the day's problems and successes, then (rather woozily, I might add -- after 8+ straight hours at a pub) parked at the east end of 6th Street to see some bands. The first band I'd wanted to see for sure was Nic Armstrong and the Thieves again, but as time was tight, and we wanted to be sure to get in to our 10pm gig (in a very, very small club) we had to blow it off, since it was several miles or a car ride on the other end of town. Stuck our noses in to a few places, heard a few minutes of each, then headed up to the '18th Floor' (the top floor restaurant/bar at the Crowne Plaza Hotel at IH-35 and 6th St., one of Austin's very best views) to see Rachel Fuller. Fuller is a drop-dead gorgeous 20-something redhead, a classically trained pianist and composer who has been Pete Townshend's significant other for several years. I was pretty sure Townshend would be there to support her (but not play, so as not to detract from her American debut performance), and I was right, but he wound up canceling at the last minute. I'd seen Fuller do an hour-long webcast on www.petetownshend.co.uk the previous August, and had bought her debut CD (which features Townshend, and members of Big Country) Cigarettes and Housework, which I head over heels loved. And by gosh, she was probably ten times better than I expected. Funny and charming as she could be, intelligent, warm, with terrific songs (herself on piano and a b/g/drums trio). With that awesome view behind her. After the oh-so-hectic day hosting and stagemanaging ten bands, it was a lovely, lovely close to SXSW. Jerry Hall, Jagger's ex (she's a native Texan from Houston) was there, and sang a song with her. I was standing right beside her the whole time (a bit taller and much prettier than she looks in her modeling photos) with her friend (Sharon Stone's ex, the San Francisco publisher/komodo dragon bitten feller, I think it's Phil Bronstein) who looks just like a taller version of Billy Bob Thornton (which is who I thought it was, initially). Famed Texas writer Bud Shrake and Ann Richards were also (quite puzzlingly) there also. One of my favorite sets of the week, and if you love Kate Bush, you really ought to check out Fuller's album.
Next we popped in to the Rainbow Quartz showcase on 6th St. and caught most of The Telepathic Butterflies' set. They were significantly better than I'd imagined. I love their records, but expected that they were mostly a studio band.
Then it was over to see Ron Flynt play what was more or less the public debut of his brilliant song cycle L.A. Story (released by Zip Records). The album is an autobiographical story about a young kid from Tulsa who heads out to Hollywood to make a name for himself, and the great love and life lessons he experiences out there, before coming back home, very much older and wiser. Live, it's performed with a large ensemble, with Flynt telling bits of the story in between songs. Flynt's backed by an excellent young trio he's producing -- April Rose, and guest musicians including Walter Tragert and Penny Jo Pullus on harmonies (both excellent Austin singer/songwriters), Flynt's teenaged son Raymond Flynt on extra percussion, and for this gig only, Flynt's 20/20 partner Steve Allen on lead guitar and backing vocals. They performed a slightly abbreviated version of the entire album, then encored with maybe the best live version of 20/20's "Yellow Pills" I'd ever heard. It was really a fantastic performance, and it's a tremendous shame there's no real demand for this band to tour nationally, because it's a show that many of you readers would truly dig.
By this time of the day, I'd been on my feet for 13 straight hours, had untold pints, and was generally fading fast (fortunately, I had my pal Art, my designated driver -- sometimes it's SO wonderful having teetotal visiting friends). I very much wanted to stay for my mate Andy Thomas' band The Rockland Eagles, but in spite of them cranking the volume up 50% from the previous band, found myself nodding the minute I sat down to watch the band (after standing all that time). So two songs, then home a bit early. Now, I haveta tell you about the Rockland Eagles. They play stadium rock, classic '70s style. In tiny clubs. Two guitars, Clapton-style left, Townshend-style right. Singer in a post-Billy Armstrong crouch that requires his mic to be ridiculously low to the stage, legs bent waaaaayyyy out. Choreographed stage moves and (girlfriend) cheerleaders. Very droll, and well worth seeing a few times. Their CD is quite good, too, especially "Nassau Coliseum," which sounds like 1978-vintage Cheap Trick.
Bands who I would've loved to have seen Saturday night included Dwight Twilley (backed by Bill Pitcock IV and Jerry Naifeh of the Dwight Twilley Band), the whole Rainbow Quartz showcase: The Lackloves, The Grip Weeds, The High Dials, and Outrageous Cherry (love ALL their records), Linus of Hollywood, Ed Harcourt, The Kings of Convenience, The Shore, Amy Rigby, Idlewild, Nashville Pussy, Daniel Johnston, The Be Good Tanyas, The Music, Terminal Mind, The Fighting Brothers McCarthy, Son Volt, The Ms, The Paybacks, Tammy Faye Starlight, and Ben Lee. Good lord, what an amazing amount of fantastic music in a short period of time.
Sunday we managed to miss connections on several things, but wound up dropping Jan and Dwight Twilley at the airport, and went out to the SXSW BBQ and baseball game (which is always great schmoozing fun at the end of the conference), SXSW Director Brent Grulke and I ran into Susan Cowsill and Russ Broussard, and the four of us happily chatted away to the exclusion of everyone else there for a good hour or two. I'd always planned to go see The Dung Beatles that night, but as the legislature was in session and I had to be back at the day job, it was an early night and a perfect end to a near-perfect SXSW.
back to top |
