It's my sixth consecutive SXSW, and each time it feels twice as big as the year before. As a publicist friend and I walked down the main drag in Austin last night, he took one look around and said, "Oh my God, it's like Mardi Gras now." And indeed, though I will not be showing my boobs for beads, there's enough beer, BBQ and music here to keep a city five times the size of New Orleans (and a whole lot bigger than Austin) busy and boozy for days.
Wednesday used to be a sort of sleepy, ease-you-in deal to preview the long weekend, but last night nearly every venue on 6th Street was already spilling crowds onto the sidewalk. And there is music everywhere: Lone guys with guitars strumming for no one on the curb, acoustic duets in front of the Starbucks inside the Radisson hotel, piano Radiohead covers in the lobby of the Four Seasons (where, by the way, a grizzled Lou Reed was holding court, and Moby wandered helplessly by with shopping bags, looking, no doubt, for a lone vegan snack in the Land of Beef and Brisket). At a small club called Volume, one of my favorite baby bands (though not for long, they're signed to Pharrell's Star Trak label on Interscope), Chester French, played to a sadly sparse crowd, but worked it well. The two recent Harvard grads ditched their usual yacht clothes for a fun sort of Dean-Martin-after-dark look (undone tuxes, messy-perfect hair) and threw long-stemmed tulips out the ladies (and a few smiling men as well), ripping through hectic versions of perfect pop nuggets "She Loves Everybody" and "Jimmy Choos" — if you haven't heard them yet, go here now, and thank us later.
Last night, the Lemonheads played the first of several South By Southwest shows, performing their classic album, It's a Shame About Ray, from start to finish. The record is being reissued this month by Rhino, 16
years after its original release, and judging by the average age of those in attendance — I'd guess most were in their mid- to late-30s — the nostalgia
factor was in full effect. Even the fact that the band's current incarnation
features only one original member, singer and songwriter Evan Dando,
didn't matter to this downright giddy audience.
And justifiably so. Dando was in fine form — seemingly sober, focused
and, most importantly, rehearsed. Things started a little shaky when he
had a hard time reaching the high notes on the opening song, "Rockin
Stroll," but heading into the set, which clocked in at exactly 30
minutes (the perfect length for an album, I'd argue), he hit his
stride. The title track "It's a Shame About Ray" never sounded better,
and with the sing-along that ensued for "My Drug Buddy," "Bit Part,"
where the crowd handled Juliana Hatfield's part as if on cue, and a
glorious rendition of the Hair number, "Frank Mills," the night
was a runaway success. There was some chatter among the diehards as to
whether the band would play their cover of Simon & Garfunkel's
"Mrs. Robinson," which was recorded to promote the video release of The Graduate (it also appeared on the soundtrack to Wayne's World 2),
then added to Ray on a later pressing. They didn't.
Which was a
good thing and it got me thinking: what is the quintessential song of
this nearly perfect gem of a record? Is it "Rudderless," with its eerie
refrain, "Hope in my past?" Is it "Alison's Starting to Happen," which
was a modest college radio hit? Is it my personal favorite, "Hannah & Gabi," with that killer pedal steel melody? Any Lemonheads loyalists
among you, PopWatchers? Let's debate like it's 1992.
Mail call! I just opened a package to find a copy of the recently-released Apostle of Hustle album smiling up at me. So while I sit here listening to National Anthem of Nowhere (love those horns on the title track!), I figured I'd post some of the conversation I had with AoH frontman Andrew Whiteman at SXSW, where I cornered the very sweaty Canadian outside Stubb's after he'd played an emergency set. After the jump, a quick chat about subbing for the one band you wanted to see at SXSW, and Andy — who also happens to be a central figure in Toronto mega-group Broken Social Scene — weighs in on the PopWatch Cage Match for Indie Supremacy....
I mentioned these guys in my Saturday wrap-up, but thought they deserved a little more time. America? Meet Attractive and Popular, hailing from Bathhouse Row, Hot Springs National Park, in the gorgeous state of Arkansas.
As I noted before, I decided to use the 8 p.m. slot on my final night to track down the most random band at SXSW, and I have to say these guys more than fit the bill. Aside from their eye-catching name (and hometown that's close to my heart, which still partially resides down Hwy 270 in Mt. Ida), it was also their first South-by showcase, played on the day after their very first label-released CDs came in the mail. Money Equals Magic is out on Gold Standard Laboratories, a label partially owned by Omar Rodriguez-Lopez of the Mars Volta, and they were kicking off a night of GSL bands at Emo's Jr. After a sweaty, glammed-up set (pictured) of their cacophonous songs, I cornered a couple band members for a quick interview. Read on to hear what playing SXSW means to a band that, while truly attractive, is still working on the popular part...
What up, PopWatchers! So happy to be back sitting on my couch in snowy NYC. Sure sign I'm home: I spotted a guy with a SXSW tote bag coming off my flight from Houston and, intending to ask him what he thought of the conference, said, "Hey, do you have a quick second?" He gave me a quick once-over and snapped, "No, I don't," before zipping away. Ah, Yankees.
Anyway, I figure instead of unpacking, I'd bring you a couple Q&As from some of the awesome folks I ran into this weekend at SXSW. We'll start with a man who may as well be the unofficial poster child for the festival, having played in or around it for over a decade: Spoon frontman Britt Daniel. I ran into him while walking down a back street; he was carrying what looked like takeout in a bag and wearing some very fetching khaki pants. Or were they? Read on to find out!
One last, fond howdy, PopWatchers: I'm sitting in the Houston airport getting ready to board my flight home from a music festival that, like the month in which it lives, came in like a lion and went out like a lamb. A lamb that stood in line for a really long time and didn't get to see any bands. A really sad, frustrated lamb. Angry, really. Angry lamb. Baaaaaah.
I wish I could wrap this up in a profound fashion, but you're just going to have to go with what I've got: Some final pics on the Flickr page, some blisters on my feet, and a slight ringing in the ears. Oh, and a brief rundown of the very few, very random things I managed to see on Saturday night...
I always find some inner conflict at South By Southwest. With literally hundreds of bands to choose from, do you skip shows by some of your favorite artists to catch a glimpse of the latest buzz? I, like many others, try to find a balance between old and new, and this year's lineup certainly boasted a wealth of seasoned acts — the Stooges and Pete Townshend among the bigger names. But when I'm looking for a little blast from the past, I almost instinctively head for mid to late '90s power pop. And the place for that was Friday at the Dirty Dog bar for the Yep Roc showcase, where acts from four corners of the world — Great Britain, Canada, Australia and the US — convened for one glorious guitar-riffic evening. The lines outside weren't nearly as long as some of the other clubs, but the anticipation indoors was explosive.
The night started out with Robyn Hitchcock, joined by R.E.M.'s Peter Buck and Sean Nelson of Harvey Danger for an acoustic set. Short but sweet, Hitchcock ran through a stable of fan favorites, including the Soft Boys' classic "I Wanna Destroy You." For Nelson, who has to walk with a cane due to a back injury, the mellow set was just what the doctor ordered. As for the audience, it was a nice warm-up, but no match for the next band.
Howdy from Austin, where it is not only the last (full) day of SXSW, but also Saturday, and also St. Patrick's Day. These factors together have combined to create lines the likes of which this reporter has never seen, and sightlines so abysmal I might as well be watching from Dallas. (Hello, the Walkmen! You sound good from the end of this hallway!) But if I've never said this before, now is the time: God bless Beerland, where I've walked in and grabbed not only a barstool, but all the free wireless a girl could ask for, and a punk hoedown courtesy of the Goodnight Loving. If I sit here until 5:30, I get to see the Black Lips, who are high on my list of band cravings. Beerland, you are a friend to me.
Also a friend to me: The Kings of Leon, whose skinny legs rocked Stubb's yesterday afternoon with the best set I've seen at this festival. Caleb Followill and his band of brothers tore into a sweaty, PBR-filled crowd with a vengeance that grew as the afternoon wore on and more and more people abandoned their beer in favor of jumping up and down. "I thought this was gonna be a s---ty crowd," Caleb said about halfway through, "but I was wrong." They closed with "Slow Night, So Long," and it seemed way too soon. I wanted more, more, more! I didn't want to have to give my heart to another band right away! That's the hardest part about this stupid festival: Just as you're getting into something, the set ends, and you walk to or run to or stand in line for something else, and you never get to savor anything. It's like wolfing down your barbecue, something else I've done plenty of lately. Damn unsatisfying.
In general, SXSW Friday could claim to be the day where everything reached a fevered pitch. You were in my pocket for all of it, PopWatchers, so won't you come along now and see what you saw?
Just got out of the Iggy Pop panel, where the punk-rock icon was interviewed along with Ron and Scott Asheton, his cohorts among the legendary proto-punk firebrands the Stooges. The group reunited recently after more than three decades of silence — "We needed a break," guitarist Ron quipped — and they are here in Austin to support their comeback disc, The Weirdness, just released a couple weeks ago. Somehow, despite years of self-inflicted abuse, Iggy (center, photographed late last year with Ron, right, and Scott) seems preserved in amber; wearing a white wife-beater, he looked like a happy-go-lucky surfer dude, complete with streaky blonde hair and those famously wiry and tan muscled arms of his. Over a 75-minute conversation, the trio covered a long list of topics, including why they never received much commercial success and the genesis of some of their greatest songs. It's too much to detail in one blog post, but here are a few highlights:
• To promote one of their albums, Elektra records sent Iggy to go visit the "very horny editor" (Iggy's words) of a teenybopper magazine at her apartment. "They wanted to see if we hit it off." Iggy said. Long pause. "I was on the cover."
• The band's garage-soul favorite "No Fun" was inspired by three songs. The "no no no" line from the Rolling Stones "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction," the Beach Boys' frequent use of the word "fun," and the structure of Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line." Not sure if I get it, but it worked.
• The Stooges loved all the critical trashing their albums received when they were released. "Bad reviews are better," said Ron Asheton. "It's like, come see the circus freaks!" Iggy added his own bit of peculiar wisdom: "What passes for intelligent generally isn't."
• Iggy's first attempts at writing and recording music were pretty hippy-dippy. "I was a flower child, wearing beads and a Hindu-style moustache," he recalled. "And I sat in my bedroom writing a rock opera about little mouse in a bucolic world." We're glad he outgrew that phase.
What's up with the lines, people?! Everywhere I went on this second day of my tenth South by Southwest, I saw frustrated badge holders doing their best to demonstrate that patience is, indeed, a virtue. Is the number of registrants just so astronomically large this year? Is there a shortage of venues? There certainly seems to be in the parking department.
This is, of course, nothing new to SXSW. The one consistent complaint about the festival in the last few years is that there are too many bands overlapping and competing for too few time slots. Add to that the dozens of unofficial parties going on at any given moment, and you'd need to clone yourself three times to catch a fraction of the bands you'd like to see. What ends up happening, as many local Austinites know, is that the folks who can't get in simply watch from the street. And those crowds are sometimes as large as the ones inside. So here's a view from the outside in of who had the longest queue on day two...
Bit of a late start this morning, PopWatchers, and for that I apologize, but I stayed up way too late at the Blender after-hours party, drinking something that may have contained too much vodka and being lulled into a dancing coma by a group of Swedes. Yes, Peter Bjorn & John may be overhyped, but they're hard to resist after a long, hot day in the sun, especially once they start whistling. So even though two fratty types in front of me declared them to be "s---" and headed for the door, I stayed until the bitter end, and poured myself into bed with way too much music ringing in my ears. (Our Flickr page has a complete record.)
So now it's about 1 p.m., and I'm sitting in the backyard of Stubb's, where it has once again gone cloudy and cool, and Ben Jelen (pictured) is onstage kicking off the Spin magazine party. (He's quite good, BTW, and deserves a larger audience than the 20 or so people standing tentatively in the middle of the yard.) This will take us through the rest of the afternoon, culminating in performances from Kings of Leon and the Buzzcocks. It's also rumored that my close friend Pete Townshend will be making a guest appearance with the Fratellis, but I'll believe that when I see it. If I learned anything yesterday, it's that one should be very careful not to believe everything you hear in this town.
Have you ever heard Slash, Tom Morello (Rage Against the Machine/Audioslave), Perry Farrell (Jane's Addiction), Nuno Bettencourt (Extreme) and Wayne Kramer (MC5) jam together on a revved-up version of Woody Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land"? Neither had I until I slipped into the after-Midnight gig by Morello (pictured), a.k.a. the Nightwatchman, his acoustic, folky, political alter-ego. Leading up to the April 24 release of his One Man Revolution album, Morello has been playing a bunch of freewheeling solo gigs, with famous guests and drop- in cameos. His gig at the Parish club on Thursday night in Austin was no different.
I'm still kicking myself for missing the beginning — I just had to have a slice of pizza — but word is that show opened with the whole gang taking one of Farrell's classic Jane's Addiction songs (not sure which one, sadly.). When I walked in, Morello had moved onto his solo tunes, which evoke Muddy Waters and Van Morrison. Rumors of a Rage-reunion at SXSW did not come true, though Morello did play his old band's "Guerilla Radio" as Dylan-style harmonica-and-acoustic tune. From there, it became a kind of absurd game of rock 'n' roll musical chairs. U.K. neo-folkie Alexi Murdoch stopped in to play one of his contemplative tunes; everybody piled on stage for a sloppy run through the MC5's riot-starting classic, "Kick Out the Jams"; and then the evening ended with a punky take on "This Land Is Your Land," with the totally inappropriate yet completely awesome Slash solo tacked on the end.
In the middle of this chaotic mess was Morello, who, after being just-the-guitarist for so many years, is coming into his own as a frontman. He's got a booming, espresso-rich voice, a nice way with traditional Americana, and most of all, a genial, funny, stage presence that makes a big club feel like a small living room. "Have a nice weekend," he ended the show, "But you won't top that s---!" He might have been right.
After days of stormy weather, Austin heated up Thursday in more ways than one: The first official day of the SXSW festival was a scorcher, Fahrenheit-wise, and so was the daytime rock. Tokyo Police Club, the Ontario teens who look like cub scouts and sound like sexy delinquents, put on an exuberant, high-speed set at Emo's mid-afternoon, churning out angular should-be singles like "Nature of the Experiment" and "Citizens Demo."
Across the way at Emo's Annex, singer-songwriter Elvis Perkins played a kinder, gentler set, serenading a hushed, respectful crowd with tracks like "May Day" and "While You Were Sleeping" from his recent XL Records debut, Ash Wednesday. Caught afterwards, he confessed that though the infamous Austin hot springs were his number-one dream destination at the festival, he would more likely catch sets from friends in Cold War Kids, Okkervill River, Ghostland Observatory, and Patrick Watson, as well as Pete Townshend's much-hyped late-night appearance.
Perhaps the most fun discovery so far, Brazilian party-makers Bonde do Role, set the Fader House attendees churning with their playful, DJ-assisted anarchy, pulling samples from Alice in Chains' "Man in a Box" to make cranked-up call-and-response club jams.
Howdy, PopWatchers! (Yes, I'm gonna keep saying "howdy." I'm from Texas and can do whatever I want.) I am happily ensconced in a corner of the Driskill Hotel ballroom, where a celebration of the silky-voiced Emmylou Harris (pictured) is currently taking place. I am happy for two reasons: First, it is air-conditioned. (The sun has come out with a vengeance, making all the hoodied hipsters quite sweaty.) And second, I can't think of any artists whose body of work has pleased me more consistently over the past couple decades.
And I'm not alone: This party — featuring performances from Allison Moorer, the Watson Twins, Charlie Louvin and more-- is to honor her 15 million records sold, and the box set that's coming out later this year. That 15 million could probably be upgraded a great deal if you take into account the artists she's harmonized with over the years: Bob Dylan, Patty Griffin, and Elvis Costello jump to mind, and, of course, her longtime musical partner and occasionally wayward dead body Gram Parsons. Again, I'm not being tasteless. That's just true.
It's 11:15 a.m., and I’m sitting at Austin’s Tequila Mockingbird Studios, where Nic Harcourt, the voice of KCRW’s splendid alternative music radio show Morning Becomes Eclectic is holding court during SXSW (the show usually tapes out in Cali). This morning’s guest is a young British musician named Stoney, who’s making his stateside debut on the today's broadcast and is currently soundchecking on the other side of the studio glass. I’m gonna listen in while I write about what I saw last night, and try to make this into some sort of really splendid pastiche of liveblogging and passionate memories. Or something. I’ll probably end up posting this mid- or after-show, so I guess it’s technically not live. But here’s an idea: If you missed the broadcast, it's available in the KCRW archives.
Hey kids, just a quick note from morning 2 of SXSW to say that I've put some pics of the first night's shows — and Pete Townshend's keynote address — up on our Flickr page. Check 'em out! My digital camera is the bestest!
Now I'm off to watch a live broadcast of KCRW's Morning Becomes Eclectic, and will check in from there with the scoop on last night's performances from Razorlight and the Bravery. Glad to see Endelman got the Lily Allen vs. NME spat on the blog this morning. I'll admit, it was a bit odd.
Ugh. I need a breakfast burrito.
The first night of SXSW is a relatively slow one. There aren't that many MUST see shows, everyone is yawning from their early flights, and Austin's 6th Street just smells like only beer... not beer, piss, and garbage. By the time I got my badge, ate two tacos, and drank a margarita, I only had the energy for a short night. I wandered easily into the giant outdoor Stubb's for the NME and Zune-sponsored Brit-centric line up.Catching only the last notes of Wales' the Automatic, I grabbed a Miller Lite and prepared to be blown away by young English lad Jamie T, a next-big-thing signed to Virgin UK who I'd been told by a friend was the "one musician I am most excited about see this year at SXSW." His sloppy, shambolic set of punky-reggae free-associations sounded like 2nd-gen Arctic Monkeys to me, but why don't you just hear it for yourself?
Next up was chirpy and cheeky London pop-reggae songbird Lily Allen, who looked adorable (green babydoll dress and '50s hairdo), sounded better (her voice might be better live than on the album), and admitted very early on, "I'm a bit drunk. I've been drinking on my bus for hours." You couldn't tell from the music — which was spot on — but her stage patter sounded like soused trash talk. "F--- the NME!" she said, referring to the UK tastemaking magazine that was sponsoring the show. "If I had known it was their gig, I wouldn't have done it!" (She also called the mag a raunchy British colloquialism that can't be repeated here, but it rhymes with "blunts.") The gig then pretty much continued as usual until she introduced the last song — the funhouse ode to her stoner sibling "Alfie" — and she called the NME a few more nasty names and then strode offstage. Maybe some PopWatch readers can fill me in, what did the NME do to Ms. Allen?
UPDATE: Reader Mandy describes the details of the dispute in her comment below. Here's Lily Allen's blog post outlining her beef with NME.
It is 6:27 p.m., and the Grand Ballroom of the Austin Hilton is packed with folks in black t-shirts, muddy sneakers, and green SXSW badges, all waiting in eager anticipation for Pete Townshend's keynote address. We do not yet know what he will be talking about, but there is a clue on our chairs, in the form of a piece of paper titled, simply, THE METHOD. It reads, "Today, as part of his Keynote Address at the South by Southwest Music Festival in Austin, Texas, Pete Townshend is announcing the Method. After more than 25 years of patient research, Pete is launching the website he first described in the science fiction story behind the Who's legendary Who's Next album of 1971. The Method — designed by Lawrence Ball — offers subscribers the opportunity to create their own unique musical composition by "sitting" for the Method software composer, just as you would sit for a painter making your portrait." Etc.
Now, aside from the obvious implication that Pete Townshend predicted the Internet, I'm not sure what that means. But I'm certain we'll soon find out, and you'll be the first to hear about it, PopWatchers. And you will be excited.
Greetings from the streets of Austin, PopWatchers! It is a horrid, drizzly day, but if there's one group of people who know how to plan for inclement weather, it's Canadians... and so I'd like to thank the organizers of the Canadian Blast for providing me this wonderful tent to sit under and drop a line to all my bloggy friends.
BREAKING NEWS: My mother has just called to inform me that Rascal Flatts canceled their concert at tonight's Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. I do not know any further details, but if I were a bettin' gal, I'd say Gary and Jay's pretty severe illnesses finally caught up with them, and I wish them, sincerely, a speedy recovery. Sympathies to anyone who had tix; why not use your raincheck to catch Dierks Bentley on Friday night?
Anyway, I think I'm the first EW reporter to hit Austin — Michael Endelman, Leah Greenblatt, and Shirley Halperin are on their way, and EW.com editor Adrienne Day is someplace prepping to play flute (we'll let her explain that if she wants to) — and my journey in from Houston involved significantly more hail than I'd like it to. But after stopping at two gas stations and a Taco Bell to let the blinding storm pass, the family Saturn and I arrived in the state capital and got down to business. It took me an (almost) painless 45 minutes to get my credentials, but my badge and I are ready to go.
If you missed Oprah yesterday, Leonardo DiCaprio and Dijmon Hounsou were on to promote Blood Diamond, a new drama about the diamond industry in Sierra Leone. But the real gems of the show were the members of the Refugee All-Stars band. At SXSW earlier this year, as all of the Pitchfork-heads were trying to get some Editors and Art Brut action, I was lucky enough to stumble onto the All-Stars. I saw a documentary at the festival, also called The Refugee All-Stars, which tells their story of living in strife in Guinea after being run out of their native Sierra Leone. At the time of this brutal civil war, many of the musicians lived without shelter, many more without food, and all constantly lived in fear of the guerrilla rebels who hacked off limbs on a whim. For them and those around them, music was one of the only ways to cope. They have since been traveling the world’s film and music festival circuit, promoting their story and music in hopes that it’ll inspire others and, perhaps, give them a little cash along the way.
I got to watch the band perform their soothing yet vibrant reggae, and had the pleasure of meeting them afterward (pictured). What can I say? I was hooked. If you’d like to support the band -- after all, this is the season of giving -- you can buy their album or make a donation here.
LADY SOVEREIGN One of the most intriguing new artists of 2006 has to be this hilarious British MC. Signed by Jay-Z to Def Jam last fall, the quick-witted troublemaker is rumored to be working with the Beastie Boys, Timbaland, and the Neptunes for her debut U.S. album, due later this year. Looking like a spunky hip-hop cartoon with her black and white track suit, cornrows, and sideways ponytail, Sov rolled through an already-impressive canon of U.K. hits including "Random," "Ch-Ching," and "Tango" (a laugh-out-loud dis directed at girls with fake tans). Joking with the audience ("You fell in the kitchen? Did you fall off the counter?" she asked an enthusiastic fan waving crutches) and flouting Stateside drinking laws, the diminutive rapper possesses more than enough star power to have a chance to be one of the few U.K. rhymers to make a big impact in America. Download songs and videos on the Lady Sov site, AOL or MySpace.
MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE Taking a break from recording the follow-up to 2004's mega-selling Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, these theatrical New Jersey punks ignited the relatively small Austin club Emo's with a quick set of searing bombast. Hardly in need of extra publicity or a record deal, the group instead graced SXSW to help promote a breast-cancer charity and play on the same bill as their idols, hardcore cult heroes Lifetime. But the show's philanthropic aims didn't stop MCR frontman Gerard Way from dropping numerous between-song F-bombs, or the band from charging full-throttle with an arsenal of monster riffs on tracks including "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)," "You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison," and "Helena." As the slobbering faithful chanted "one more song" after the band's initial exit, MCR returned to unveil a new, partially complete opus. Featuring a "na-na-na" finale that had the crowd instantly singing along, the song suggested an even more pop-friendly future for the rambunctious quintet. Download a live version of "Helena" at Purevolume, listen to several tracks at the MCR MySpace page, or buy their music at iTunes.
Ray Davies started his day like many of the other SXSW festival-goers standing in the lobby of the Austin Radisson hotel -- at noon, bellying up to the in-house Starbucks for a kick start. Five hours later, the grand old Kink would hold court at the Austin Convention Center for a ''special presentation,'' a live acoustic set of songs from his new album, Other People’s Lives, mixed with some narration, and the premiere of a home video that chronicles the eight-years-in-the-making solo debut.
The video begins with the legendary British songwriter’s return to the U.S. (his lifelong creative inspiration, he says) to embark upon the journey of his first album independent of his longtime band the Kinks. It follows Davies from New York City (where we get a glimpse of some of the ''other people's lives'' he encounters, including that of a self-professed hermaphrodite who is tweaking his own nipples while walking his ''lesbian'' dog along the streets of the Big Apple), a performance tour through the States that commences days after Sept. 11, all the way through to his relocation to New Orleans -- where he was ultimately shot during an alleged mugging. It's uncertain if Davies plans to one day release the video diary in some form or fashion, but if so it would be of interest to diehard Kinks-Davies fans.
When asked by EW during the presentation’s closing Q&A session how he thinks one of his biggest fans, Who leader Pete Townshend, who has often been openly effusive of Davies' work with the Kinks, might like Other People’s Lives, Davies quipped, ''I don't think in the time of the literary greats one of them would call up the other and say, 'I just finished your book, jolly good read.''' Still, Davies added, ''I hope he likes it.''
GOLDFRAPP Wrapped in a hot pink cloak that billowed behind a couple of perfectly positioned fans, the leader of this Über-stylish dance-pop group, Allison Goldfrapp (pictured, with bandmate Will Gregory at the Blender party on Wednesday), looked like she was about to start flying at any moment during her band's blissful spectacle. Updating Madonna's '80s pop trifles with a techno-funk backbeat, these Brits stomped and preened through a sultry set. Propelled by popping synthetic drums, down-low bass, and expert keytar(!), Allison worked the stage like a catwalk in death-defying high-heels, her breathy voice easily seducing an enthusiastic crowd. Goldfrapp struts with style for miles but their precise, body-moving attack grooves confirm the band isn't just a glorified fashion show. Watch their surreal videos at Mute Records for free or buy their music at iTunes.
It was supposed to be a surprise, but guessing from the hundreds of people massed outside Stubb’s at 7 p.m. on Thursday, it wasn’t exactly hush-hush. Already in town to promote their new fan-shot concert documentary, Awesome; I F---in' Shot That!, the Beasties dropped by the outdoor venue for an early-evening run through some classics from their catalog, including “Paul Revere,” "Pass the Mic," and “Brass Monkey.” It wasn’t all a nostalgia trip though: Mixmaster Mike kept it current by mashing in new-school beats -- Snoop’s “Drop It Like It’s Hot,” for example -- underneath the decidedly old-school rhymes.
THE SCENE If only for the awesome stage props -- giant
multicolored balloons, streamers, and colored smoke machines under a
circus-like tent -- the Flaming Lips'
unannounced show at the Fox & Hound on Wed. was a sweet way to kick
off the first night of South by Southwest. Also, a giddy young couple
got engaged on stage -- for real!
THE SHOW The music wasn’t too shabby either. Kicking
off with a surprisingly tight cover of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” the
Oklahoma psych-rockers tested out some material from their upcoming At
War With the Mystics (out April 4), including the freaky metal jam
“Free Radicals,” which bodes well for the new disc. To close the 45-minute set, they busted out an impressively fierce version of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs," with a cameo from foul-mouthed female rapper Peaches. “We kept this a secret so all the cool people
would show up,” said the Lips’ Wayne Coyne. “And you guys did!” Thanks
for the compliment, Wayne; we think you're cool too.
The first in our series of reports from the South by Southwest music festival in Austin, Texas:
THE BIRTHDAY MASSACRE Like many industrial goths before
them, these eyeliner-friendly Canadians (pictured) embrace crunching power chords, sneering
expressions, and track titles like "Horror Show." But these 'Birthday' boys (and
girl) will not be typecast so easily. Breaking from their genre's strict
codes, the Massacre showed off broad smiles, jump-around
exuberance, and a contagious playfulness live. As her male bandmates thrashed and
wailed (all while wearing spiffy goth-mobster duds), inky-haired singer Chibi
added sly vulnerability to the devastating thunder with her versatile
vocals. Tying it all together were instantly memorable songs and melodies rarely
found amidst such heavy tones. The walloping synth-fest "Video Kid" justly
summaries this unique brood's pulverizing pop appeal. Download the track for free at
SXSW's site.
