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Sunday, March 21, 2010
SXSW video: Red Bull Thre3Style party
Matthew Odam reports on the Red Bull Thre3Style party with Mos Def, which took place on the final night of South by Southwest.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Patrick Caldwell
(Raphel Saadiq at the Austin Music Hall. Ricardo B. Brazziell AMERICAN-STATESMAN)1. The Cave Singers and Movits at Home Slice Pizza. Playing the local pizzeria’s day party back-to-back Friday, the sharp contrast between Seattle’s Cave Singers and Sweden’s Movits ably demonstrated the beauty of SXSW. What other festival brings together passionate, gritty Americana and kooky, hip-hop-by-way-of-swing grooves?
2. Theophilius London at Peckerheads. Brooklyn’s Theophilius London finds the perfect intersection of hip-hop and soul, with a crowd-stoking swagger, enviable gyrating skills and a command of the audience that few can claim. From his sharp lyricism to his undeniable stage presence, London’s due to blow up any day now.
3. Free Energy at the Beauty Bar Annex. There were at least 100 bands gunning for the ‘best hard-working indie act on the verge of blowing up’ designation this year, and that’s a conservative estimate. But Free Energy mounted the most charming assault, with energetic live shows and an array of dance-eliciting pop rock gems.
4. AOL/Spinner showcase Friday night at the Austin Music Hall. SXSW didn’t pack a more lovingly curated showcase than Friday night at AMH, where neophyte soul sensations like Black Joe Lewis and Mayer Hawthorne opened for experienced players Raphael Saadiq and Sharon Jones — and elder statesman Smokey Robinson. From booty-shaking first note to sweat-inducing last trumpet blast, it was a night of sweet soul vibes.
5. Roky Erickson and Okkervil River. Sure, it makes perfect sense in hindsight — of course one of the smartest and most tuneful personalities in indie rock would find a complement in the psychedelic pioneer and quintessential comeback story of Erickson — but who could have honestly guessed that Okkervil River front man Will Sheff and 13th Floor Elevators founder Erickson would make such a perfect pair? Erickson’s songs are thoughtful and heartbreaking, and Sheff’s production and backing band really make them shine.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Deborah Sengupta Stith
(Nneka at the Parish during SXSW 2010. Ben Sklar FOR AMERICAN-STATESMAN) With mobility and stamina seriously impaired (I’m 71/2 months pregnant), I confess it’s been the most low-key SXSW I’ve participated in. The list of artists I wish I’d seen outnumbers the great artists I did manage to catch. Some standout moments:
1. KUT Austin’s taping of Nneka at the Day Stage Cafe on Wednesday afternoon. So much soulful passion packed into such a tiny frame! The Nigerian/German singer-songwriter coaxed the audience to join her in a cry against corruption with the sincere appeal, ‘I believe that when we raise our voices together a spiritual change can occur.’ For a few minutes at least, we all believed it, too.
2. Mochilla Presents A Timeless After Party, Saturday at Malverde. When I showed up at the party Detroit MC Illa J, brother to the late legendary hip-hop producer Jay Dee (J. Dilla), was rocking the mike, paying lyrical homage over jazzy grooves dropped by Mochilla’s DJ Eric Coleman. Coleman kept the vibe flowing setting up Austin’s own DJ Chicken George to completely demolish the dance floor. Seriously. The man put out a mind-blowing mix of soulful dance grooves splicing in shots of funk, rhythmic cuts and sped-up Dirty South refrains. When British/Columbian DJ Quantic took the wheels he dropped the party down a notch slipping into a South American tropical rhythm that started couples spinning. He then took the crowd through a series of changes dropping to a sparse guitar line, layering blasts of horns and playing fast and loose with the tempos. It was an evening of diverse aural collages, a ‘Timeless After Party’ indeed.
3. J. Boogie at the Waxpoetics show at the Scoot Inn on Thursday. It was late, I was tired and ready to go. Then the San Francisco mixer did this crazy Brazilian take on Paul Simon’s ‘Late In The Evening’ and smoothly segued it into Crystal Waters ‘Gypsy Woman.’ ‘La da di, la da da,’ just like that I was ready to go again.
4. Yelawolf. The dude is crazy. A white rapper from rural Alabama who spits a rapid-fire flurry of nasty, grimy, Dirty South rhymes. When I caught him at the Urb Magazine day party he was climbing walls and leaping on tables to get closer to the crowd. He went on to rip mikes all over town.
5. Civilians at the party, a general observation. A few years back SXSW creative director Brent Grulke infuriated Austinites by publicly declaring that the festival was really for industry types, not locals. These days SXSW seems to have softened that stance. The Thursday night showcase at the Scoot Inn had just a $7 cover and the Malverde party appeared to be free. In both venues the crowd was a nice mix of SXSW-ers and local music enthusiasts. In addition, I know people who easily bought tickets to some of the less buzzy showcases that still boasted fantastic national talent. The festival takes over our city in ways that are simultaneously exhilaratingly awesome and irritatingly unavoidable. I’m happy that local music fans are allowed to participate.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Joe Gross
(Courtney Love at the Spin Party at Stubb’s. Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)Drunkdriver at Encore. Enormous guitar roar in the service of fast, noisy song-muggings that inspire crowd-members to try to mosh and end up on the floor.
Total Abuse singer Rusty Kelley’s creepy stare at Barbarella. As the band’s hideously nasty punk grinds, Kelley looks like he is moments away from cutting your throat. Well done.
The way that a poor performance at SXSW can destroy a band’s buzz. Broken Bells at Stubb’s, I am glaring at you. And I would like that hour back.
Courtney Love’s jarring face-and-music combination. Her mug has stretched into a Axl Rose-style melting mask and her new songs sound like late-model Guns N’ Roses. Perfect!
Tamaryn’s gothy, sexy post-punk at Klub Krucial, which turned 2010 into 1981.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Parry Gettelman
Susan Cowsill at Hilton Creekside Saturday. Her voice just seems to get stronger and lovelier as the years go by, and she had both terrific new material and some cool additions to her band in the very young-looking multi-instrumentalists Jack and Sam Craft, who are brothers.
Gong Myoung at Copa Friday. The four members of the Korean group are not only phenomenal masters of any number of instruments, from wind to percussion, but their set followed an astonishing arc, from sheer force to sheer delight.
The Unthanks at Emo’s Jr. Wednesday. Exquisite sister harmonies and songs that blend the traditional and the modern in surprising ways.
Unni Lovlid’s voice. Her set at Copa on Saturday was marred by the loudness of partiers in the bar area, but I’ve been playing her meditative album ‘Rite’ ever since as an antidote to SXSW stress.
Grupo Fantasma at Copa on Saturday. Love the new material and the increased cohesion they show as an ensemble. They seemed plenty tight before, but they seemed to be almost sharing a brain at times during this set.
Best SXSW quote: Isidro Lopez, host of Fiesta Musical on KOOP, asked one of the Blazers on Friday ‘How has SXSW affected you so far?’ He replied ‘Well … it’s aged me!’
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Michael Corcoran
(Carolina Chocolate Drops at the Driskill during SXSW 2010. Kelly West AMERICAN-STATESMAN) Carolina Chocolate Drops at Paste party on Wednesday. My first great SXSW moment — discovering this soulful Afro-Appalachian trio from North Carolina — ended up being my best.
Snoop Dogg performs ‘Jump Around’ by House of Pain at the Perez Hilton party on Saturday. The entire crowd was leaping in unison, creating a strobe-like effect with the back lighting.
Hearing Roky Erickson perform ‘Goodbye Sweet Dreams’ live for the first time, followed by him and Okkeril River doing ‘You’re Gonna Miss Me’ for the millionth time.
The xx performs ‘Crystalized’ at Tequila Mockingbird studio. To see the artful and dramatic next big things create their beautiful tension just feet away in a room with about 20 people was a real treat.
Cherie Currie performing ‘Cherry Bomb’ with Girl In a Coma on Friday. A big passing-the-torch moment in the middle of a great set.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Patrick Beach
(Cheap Trick at Auditorium Shores. Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN.)Cheap Trick at Auditorium Shores on Friday: The sound and intimacy might have been better Thursday at the ‘Austin City Limits’ taping, but Friday’s set offered something like a half-dozen songs from the band’s first album, a nice gesture to longtime fans. And even without drummer Bun E. Carlos, whose absence was still something of a mystery after the band’s management released a statement saying he’s still in the band, fans totally brought it. They always do.
Coal Porters at Yard Dog on Saturday: This U.S.-U.K. collective likes to call itself the original alt-bluegrass band. In a genre that is often too staid and not ragged enough, they’re also unafraid to be funny.
Motorhead on Wednesday at Austin Music Hall: Something was missing from my life until Lemmy and mates pulverized my skull with ‘Ace of Spades.’ Their version is even better than the Bad Livers. (Hold those e-mails; it’s a joke, people.)
Junior the Ghost on Saturday at Antone’s: The sound of growing up in a happy family in the suburbs. The guitar-keyboards-drum trio’s songs are just a little too busy and just a little too happy, but there’s no denying the ample musicianship. My boss suggested they be called They Might Be Ben Folds.
Big Star-Alex Chilton tribute Saturday at Antone’s: With Chilton’s passing, the myth and reach of this band will only grow. As the Drive-By Trucker’s Patterson Hood suggested earlier in the week, maybe now their renown will be as big as their name suggested. So much love from so many great musicians and that rarest of things: a tribute show pulled off in haste that didn’t turn into a train wreck.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Peter Mongillo
(Local Natives at the Levi’s Fader Fort. Kelly West AMERICAN-STATESMAN)1. Here We Go Magic, Wednesday, Club de Ville. When this indie rock band, led by Luke Temple, stopped at the Parish last year with Grizzly Bear, they were good; this time around, they were great, hitting their notes perfectly.
2. Bowerbirds, Wednesday, Club de Ville. The indie acoustic group delivered a warm, compelling performance that merged folk and Americana sounds, with a hefty dose of accordion.
3. Band of Horses, Thursday, Stubb’s. This was one of the most highly anticipated sets of the week, and the South Carolina-based southern rock band lived up to the hype, wowing the crowd with an impressive combination of ambience and power.
4. Broken Social Scene, Thursday, Stubb’s. The Canadian rock collective led by Kevin Drew showed why they’re such a popular draw, mixing rock, pop and electronic music in service of a sound that is uniquely theirs.
5. Local Natives, Friday, Galaxy Room Backyard. Still relatively new, it was unclear whether this Los Angeles based indie pop group’s live show was going to live up to the promise of their debut album; they exceeded expectations, putting on one of the best sets of the week.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Matthew Odam
(Mos Def at Red Bull Thre3Style. Matthew Odam AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
Wednesday: White Denim at the Austinist party at The Mohawk. Though I know there are often better ways to spend SXSW than by checking out local acts, I was happy to kick the fest off with local garage rockers White Denim. The trio has expanded its sound and matured over the past four years, and seemed a fitting and raucous start to four days of music in Austin.
Friday: Tyler Ramsey and Band of Horses at Central Presbyterian Church. Looking like a long-lost son of George Harrision or a rogue Wilson brother, Tyler Ramsey stepped outside his role as guitarist and harmonizer with Band of Horses to perform his sublime and heartfelt tunes that sound like something Neil Young would pen after spending a contemplative autumn in a North Carolina cabin. Following a performance by Company, Band of Horses joined Ramsey on stage and made a case for being one of the best rock bands in the country, treating the packed church to a handful of energetic new tunes along with some goose-flesh-inducing renditions of fan favorites like ‘The Funeral’ and ‘Marry Song’ that left lead singer Ben Bridwell and much of the audience sweatin’ like a …
The Cool Kids and Miike Snow at The Mohawk. The Cool Kids brought an infectious sense of fun with chest-puffing swagger, slick lyricism and beats that felt like they could bring the Mohawk to its knees on Friday night. Before their set, at least half the people at the club were referring to Miike Snow as ‘he,’ but the band is actually a group from Stockholm. Despite their stylistic gimmick of playing the first few songs in creepy, glowing masks, the masterminds behind Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’ actually offer quite a bit of substance with their cool, detached electro-pop.
Saturday: Mos Def at Red Bull Thre3Style. Looking right at home amid the skyscrapers of downtown Austin, Brooklyn-born MC Mos Def brought the flavor of a Bed-Stuy block party with him to the last night of the festival, making people forget the cold and likely wish the fest could go on for at least one more day.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: John T. Davis
(Pictured: Smokey Robinson at the Austin Music Hall. Ricardo B. Brazziell AMERICAN-STATESMAN)Tuesday: Gary Nicholson is a Nashville songwriter who often works with Delbert McClinton. But he also had a hand in writing ‘Fallin’ and Flyin’,’ one of the signature tunes from the movie ‘Crazy Heart,’ with Stephen Bruton. Bruton, who died last year, was commemorated at the Austin Music Awards, but it was Nicholson’s quietly moving performance of ‘Fallin’ and Flyin’ ’ at Ray Benson’s birthday party bash at La Zona Rosa that proved the most moving tribute.
Wednesday: Jon Dee Graham’s new album is called ‘It’s Not As Bad As It Looks,’ after his first words upon awakening bleeding in a ditch in the aftermath of the car wreck that nearly killed him in 2008. At the Conqueroo/Guitartown day party, Graham told a long, funny, grisly story about his shattered guitars and his own scars from the emergency surgery that saved his life. Noting that he and the guitars had all been salvaged and repaired he exclaimed triumphantly words to the effect of ‘ … and we’re all still going strong!’
Thursday: A Sony Music day party in the back yard of the Clive Bar on a sunny Thursday proved to be a perfect launching pad for the Court Yard Hounds, the new musical offspring of Martie Maguire and Emily Robison, two co-founders of the Dixie Chicks. After the Chicks’ tumultuous rollercoaster ride several years ago, it was great to see the two sisters getting back to the basics of making music again.
Thursday: Overheard standing in line outside Antone’s: ‘My marketing plan is to be the last guy standing.’
Friday: The instantly-recognizable opening notes of ‘Going to A Go-Go’ were literally spine-tingling. Then Smokey Robinson walked out at the Austin Music Hall and 50 years of Motown history strode onstage with him. It was just one of those moments …
Bands I missed in 2010 but want to catch next year (in no particular order): Roky Erickson with Okkervil River, Carolina Chocolate Drops, Raphael Saadiq, Broken Bells and Tommy Reilly.
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SXSW 2010 highlights: Brian T. Atkinson
(John Hiatt plays La Zona Rosa at SXSW 2010. Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN) 1. Lucero above El Sol Y La Luna on Saturday. America’s most vital bar band supporting its rock and roll masterpiece (2009’s ‘1372 Overton Park’). Everything worked.
2. John Hiatt interview. Hiatt granted limitless time with little notice on a Saturday afternoon. He was enthusiastic, grateful. Funny. Ditto his new ‘The Open Road.’
3. Leslie and the Badgers interview. Leslie Stevens asked as many questions as she answered. She was kind, thoughtful, interested. Her songwriting reflects all qualities.
4. Tim Easton at Jovita’s on Thursday. This set suggested Easton’s next album might be a career best. Beware intellectual electric blues.
5. The Gourds at Scholz Garten on Friday. Reliever Soulhat showed up late. The Gourds added ‘Gin and Juice’ and ‘Tex-Mex Mile.’ Coors Light and chardonnay crowds both left happy.
New discoveries worth revisiting:Harper Simon, Trampled By Turtles, The Maldives.
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SXSW review: Surfer Blood
Back in November, Palm Beach popsters Surfer Blood played a dazzling (and likely booked far in advance) show at Beerland that just about everyone in attendance knew would be the last time they’d get to see the buzzed-about band in such a small setting. True to form, Saturday’s SXSW show at Mohawk was the fivesome’s 10th (at least) show of the festival, where the band’s name appeared on bills backed by hipster pillars like NPR, Urban Outfitters, Village Voice and Pitchfork.
So yes, Surfer Blood have arrived, looking fresh out of high school (drummer Tyler Schwarz had the only beer in sight) and either shockingly confident or completely unaware of the big stakes being placed on them. That’s for the better, since if anything infringes on this band and its ability to craft stunning power pop that sounds like it’s being projected high speed through a wind tunnel, man… that’d be a shame.
Live, the foursome (touring with an extra keyboard/percussionist) stretch out drum-tight tunes like show opener “Floating Vibes” and “Fast Jabroni,” with guitarist Tom Fekete stomping on a row of effects pedals and piling on feedback when John Paul Pitts (vocals/guitars) wasn’t dropping startlingly developed couplets on the packed crowd.
As is the case of any band touring behind its first album (Kanine Records’ “Astro Coast”) the set list was pretty easy to predict, ending with the knock-me-over perfection of the band’s career-making (to this point) single “Swim,” Pitts’ vocals soaring above the din with such enthusiasm and spirit you’d never guess he’s been singing it several times a day for a week.
There’s a fine but important difference between “happy to be there” and “happy where you are”; the first leading to go-for-broke carelessness and the second embodied by careful precision and professionalism to make sure there are still lots of better days ahead. Right now at this moment, Surfer Blood are in the latter camp, and that’s something we should all be thankful for.
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SXSW review: Death
For all the feel-good backstory of the Hackney brothers’ long-delayed success, there’s still the problem of their name - Death - since there aren’t many bands playing right now that are more full of life and joy. That feeling was unmistakable and contagious Saturday during the trio’s show at The Mohawk, playing the proto hard rock/punk they wrote (with deceased brother/guitarist David Hackney) almost 40 years ago and was rediscovered by the masses last year.
Smiles honestly never left the faces of Dannis Hackney (drums), Bobby Hackney and guitarist Bobby Duncan as the band powered through its short discography, most of it written before punk had even been given a name and the ink on the pages of rock’s rule book was still drying. That’s what’s most fascinating about Death, the trapped-in-amber feel of it all. “Keep On Knocking” merges boogie rock feel-good with the scrappy grit Rocket From the Tombs was crafting in Ohio right around the time Death was banging around the garages of Detroit, and “Politicians In My Eyes” was/is a brainy middle finger to the Vietnam-era (now Afghanistan) strife chafing at the populace.
One of the great questions lingering since Death was scraped from history’s dustbin was “What’s next?” since the songs the band trots out every night are approaching middle age and you can only go so long on nostalgia. Bobby Hackney addressed that issue (while also paying respect to his departed brother on what would have been his birthday), saying a new Death record made of rewritten demos from its early days is on its way soon.
While that’s still not technically new stuff (what will new-millenium Death sound like… hmmm?) it’s gratifying to know there are still more days ahead for the band, and that we’ll all get more chances to see the brothers +1 spreading their infectious love of music and life for a while more to come.
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SXSW video: Anita Tijoux
Chilean hip-hop musician Anita Tijoux talked to Austin360.com’s Deborah Sengupta Stith between South by Southwest gigs.
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SXSW scene report: Mohawk’s supporting cast
Since Saturday’s buzzy as hell lineup topped by Death and Surfer Blood carried the possibility of a long line even for badgeholders, yours truly embarked nice and early for The Mohawk and engaged in a SXSW rarity, seeing an entire bill from top to bottom. Reviews of Death and Surfer Blood are on their way, but until then here’s some thoughts on what was, thankfully, a pretty interesting and eclectic (if awfully chilly) night.
Show openers Fruit Bats said they were playing their 14th show of the four-day SXSW stretch, but who’s to say if that’s for real or just a bit of tomfoolery? By the last night of the fest bands are punch drunk and loopy. Either way, they kicked out a danceable brand of indie rock that was like Death Cab For Cutie with a drum machine underneath. I know that Postal Service should be the descriptor of choice for such a sound but unlike the gold-certified Gibbard/Tamborello pair up, Fruit Bats actually had a few ounces of testosterone going on. There, I finally said it. Postal Service are the eunuchs of indie rock. I feel better now.
Turbo Fruits get my discovery of the night honor, a one-time side project (and now main endeavor) of punk band Be Your Own Pet that’s a refreshing loose type of punk rock suggestive of what might have happened if Blink-182 spent their formative years listening to Ween and The Kinks instead of The Descendents. Singer Jonas Klein started out the set by shedding his jacket and asking the crowd, “Is everyone else as hot as I am?” in a preview of the wise guy sensibility he brought to freewheeling tunes like “Mama’s Mad Cos I Fried My Brain,” “Volcano” and “Colt 45.” Ending the night by scaling The Mohawk’s stage scaffolding and hanging upside down while abusing his guitar, Klein made sure his band’s last (and 16th?) show of the week was one to remember.
San Francisco’s Thee Oh Sees certainly have a distinct brand of garage rock going on, with male/female vocals that suggest The Kills with more chug and bottom end. Good and worth another look for sure, but not a lot memorable to share.
Funkateer Dam-Funk is like a throwback and a futurist in one. Atop a drum set and laptop/keyboard combo, the Los Angeleno alternated between regular vocals and the thickest Vocoder effect these ears have ever heard, urging the crowd to “keep… on… dan-cing!” for 40 minutes of butt-moving joy. Oh, and a keytar. Can’t ever forget the keytar.
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SXSW review: The Smith Westerns
Just when you thought the bands playing SXSW couldn’t get any younger than buzzy Surfer Blood, along comes Chicago-based garage pop outfit The Smith Westerns, who seem like they wouldn’t have been allowed inside the Scoot Inn Saturday night if they weren’t part of Pitchfork’s closing night showcase. Frontman Cullen Omori looked a bit like Wiley Wiggens in “Dazed and Confused,” with straight black hair covering his face as he sang. He was quite the comedian on stage, too, asking for more warmth in the monitor and saying things like, “we’re from Chicago, or (expletive)-cago, but don’t quote me on that. Ha!”
There was a smallish crowd on hand, which was better than nothing, considering a majority of the people were either inside or huddled around the fire pit in the corner (yes, there was a fire going at a SXSW showcase to keep people warm). The band was understandably a little loose when they started, but things picked up as the set progressed, with the Omori’s glammy vocals complementing Max Kakecek’s catchy guitar hooks. Part of the Smith Westerns’ appeal is their ability to walk a fine line between a sweeter pop sound and edgier material, and it felt like they really found their groove on “Be My Girl,” which unfortunately was also the end of the set.
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SXSW scene report: Saturday notes
- The Whip In scratched the outdoor portion of its SouthBySuds event Saturday because of the horrible weather, but inside, the store was a lovely refuge from the chill wind and the SXSW madness elsewhere.
Around dinnertime, Naga Valli was singing and playing the harmonium, accompanied on percussion by Oliver Rajamani. Her beautiful voice was wonderfully lulling on traditional Indian material, and she gave an original composition in English an interesting melodic twist by using Indian melismatic technique.
Patrons relaxed in the booths of the Parlour Cafe, milled around the front counter deciding what to order or sat at the bar chatting quietly. The barista made me a fabulous chai, foaming the soy milk so expertly that somebody at the next table asked “Is that a Guinness?”
At the Continental Club, by contrast, it was sheer madness. Since so many outdoor events had been canceled, or people just didn’t want to attend them, it seemed half the Friday population of South Congress was jammed into the Continental or trying to get in the back door well before the evening showcases.
Discretion being the better part of valor, I darted back out and went across the street to South by San Jose, where David Garza was undeterred by the wretched return of winter. He entertained a hardy group of bundled-up fans with high-energy material, including a country tune that schnookered people into line dancing, just so that he could throw a devilish Tejano number at them.
A couple of hotel workers walked through the edge of the crowd carrying firewood, a peculiar and sorry sight on the first day of spring.
Garza mocked a band that had canceled, saying “I think they had to blog or something. But we’re here to rock!” He proclaimed that he was going to do a Herman’s Hermits tune, no, it was by Kajagoogoo, but they’re too shy-shy.”
The trouble with having a hit is, you have to do it, and he gleefully careened into his own “Disco Ball World,” which prompted singer Amy Cook to jump on stage and wail in harmony.
- I am not sure how theologians will analyze this, but during SXSW, there was a schism between two downtown Austin denominations. I found this out in the restroom at the Omni Hotel, where I had repaired between sets at Central Presbyterian Church Saturday because concert-goers were not allowed to use whatever facilities the church surely has, but were instead supposed to use the port-a-potties on the sidewalk around the corner. Seriously. With a wind chill in the 30s. Seriously.
Of course this outrage was a topic of conversation in the restroom of refuge, and after I lamented the extreme hardness of the Presbyterian pews as well, the badge-wearer I was talking to said with a note of relief that she wasn’t going back. “We’re going to St. David’s now
for something else. My friend calls them the Good Church and the Bad Church.”
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SXSW review: Big Star-Alex Chilton tribute at Antone’s
Alex Chilton was everywhere at SXSW 2010, the fact that he died suddenly Wednesday notwithstanding: His passing was Topic A on the street, there was a panel about him and his peerless band, Big Star, Saturday at the Austin Convention Center and showcase bands made a point of playing Big Star out of venue PAs before they came on stage.
And he was most definitely at Antone’s Saturday night, in the form of every one of the musicians who turned out to pay tribute to him in a 12:30 a.m. slot that was supposed to be a Big Star showcase with the man himself. A few of those musicians went on to greater fame than Chilton would ever have in life, but there was no question — if ever there was — that those three albums the greatest power pop band ever produced in the early ’70s have been a well of inspiration for generations of players. Like the Velvet Underground, Big Star never sold a lot of albums, but that music radically redirected the course of countless lives.
And if Saturday night proved anything, it was that legacy and impact matter a lot more than money.
Original drummer Jody Stephens and Pixies Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow — both enthusiastic members of a reconstituted Big Star beginning in 1993 — anchored the affair, which was vastly more celebratory than weepy and much better organized than similar affairs — especially those planned in haste — which tend to be long on the best of intentions and short on precision. Somebody was definitely keeping the trains running on time backstage as, in the space of just short of 90 minutes, everybody from bassist Mike Mills to Chris Stamey, M. Ward, John Doe, Sondre Lerche, Chuck Prophet, Evan Dando and more came out to witness to the life-changing power of “#1 Record,” “Radio City,” “Third/Sister Lovers.” (Chilton’s later solo work, while admirable, never quite climbed as high.)
If you were wondering which pop bands of the ’80s Big Star influenced, there’s a short answer: All of them. Here’s a very truncated list: Without Big Star, you wouldn’t have the dB’s (Chilton and Stamey were actually in a band after Chilton was in Big Star and before Stamey was in the dB’s), no REM, no Teenage Fan Club, no Replacements, no college radio and, subsequently, no alt-rock explosion of the ’90s. People always say Big Star was, or should have been, the American Beatles but it’s high time to invert the equation: The Beatles should have been the British Big Star.
For instance, “Back of a Car,” which Stephens and his two whipper-snapper bandmates opened with Saturday. It’s all there: more hooks than a bait shop, a melody Lennon and McCartney would have cheerfully swiped, harmonies that scrape the sky and a crunchy guitar that gives the tune just enough dirt under its nails to not come off as precious. And if must be said that Stephens, Stringfellow and Auer completely nailed it right off the blocks and under difficult circumstances; it was apparent that being in Big Star was an honor and a labor of love for the two Posies, not some weekend warrior project. Auer seemed as shaken as anybody there, but the three of them are pros. They put their heads down and got through the gig.
Curt Kirkwood came out to play a Fender Strat on “Don’t Lie to Me” and “In the Steet” and there you have another side of the band’s personality. The former tune demonstrates the catharsis of raging at someone who has betrayed you, the latter about the joy of simply hanging out.
The most surprisingly choice on the set list was “I Am the Cosmos,” which Chris Bell released as a solo single in 1978, the same year he died in a car wreck. Stamey sang that one, serving up an appropriately ethereal guitar solo, then followed up with “When My Baby’s Beside Me” just to make sure things didn’t get too mystical.
The biggest surprise appearance was not the rumored Paul Westerberg — who admired Chilton so much he wrote a song about him — but original bassist Andy Hummel, who flew in from Luthuania (!) for the gig. Hummel joined the band for a few tunes throughout the set, including Way Out West,” which Stephens sang.
Mike Mills’ contribution was “Jesus Christ” from “Sister Lovers,” and it must be said he looked like he was having such a good time he forgot he was at a wake.
John Doe offered a reverential take on “I’m in Love with a Girl.” That song and “13,” which was also offered up Saturday night, are some of the purest expressions of longing ever written in the pop form. If you’ve ever longed for someone so badly you thought your heart might explode, there’s no way you can’t relate to those songs.
The Watson Twins, Susan Cowsill and Hummel came out for the expected closer, “September Gurls,” which features a guitar sound that launched a thousand bands. A few people were yelling for one more, but there’s nothing, nothing that can follow that.
There was precious little speechifying — no time for that — although a statement by Chilton’s widow, Laura, was read, and Stephens made brief statements at the beginning and end. “You’ve wrapped your arms around us,” he said at the end, “and we appreciate it.”
In Westerberg’s “Alex Chilton,” he tries to improve on reality, suggesting that in an alternate universe Chilton is such a big deal children by the millions are screaming for their icon. It should have been so, and on Saturday it felt like that still might come to pass.
Other bands on the bill Saturday had the unenviable task of being overshadowed by a Big Star in absentia. Dwight Twilley offered vintage (and kind of dated) heartland roots rock, exuberant pop trio Junior the Ghost buzzed through a busy set that recalled Ben Folds and They Might Be Giants — leading my boss to suggest the band might well be called “They Might Be Ben Folds” — and St. Deluxe shook the walls with a sound that made you forget about My Bloody Valentine.
But Saturday night was all about the man who wasn’t there, a cult hero, a myth and now a ghost. Long may he reign.
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SXSW review: Susan Cowsill, Watson Twins, Matt Morris, Ian McLagan
- Singer-songwriter Susan Cowsill drew the precarious 8 p.m. slot Saturday at one of the harder-to-find venues, Creekside at Hilton Garden Inn, but she still just about filled the room, and the crowd was quieter and more attentive than at any other show I saw during SXSW.
With her incandescent voice and dark but irrepressible sense of humor, the longtime New Orleanian is always a captivating performer, and she now, finally, has a new album to preview.
“Lighthouse” is the former Continental Drifter’s first release since her solo debut, “Just Believe It,” which came out in the U.S. in 2005, right after Hurricane Katrina.
“Katrina got more press,” Cowsill noted dryly. She explained that it had then taken a good while to get the writing and performing parts of her life together again. “We were having a hard time just forming full sentences for a couple years there.”
“Lighthouse” is haunted by loss, which manifests itself in different ways. The summery, floating chorus of her new song “Dragon Flys” disguised its underlying melancholy. “River of Love” was written by Cowsill’s older brother Barry, who died mysteriously in the wake of Katrina, and although its theme of separation and longed-for reunion now seems sadly prescient, her band’s driving delivery and the beautiful four-part vocal harmonies emphasized the song’s hopeful chorus.
In the ballad “Lighthouse,” on the other hand, Cowsill sang of hope, but her melody was suffused with an acknowledgment of profound sorrow, underlined by the simple, plaintive piano-violin arrangement. Apparently more than one person in the audience started
tearing up, because afterward Cowsill shook her head, laughed reassuringly and said “Everything’s OK now! I’m going to prove it with the next song.” Which was “The Rain, the Park and Other Things,” and its innocent chorus of “happy, happy, happy!” sounded just as effervescent as when it was a hit for her family pop band, the Cowsills, in the 1960s.
Maybe it was the resilience in “Lighthouse,” even more than the sadness, that made people cry.
After Cowsill’s casually cathartic performance, the Watson Twins’ 9 p.m. show at Central Presbyterian Church seemed rather callow and inconsequential. Their sister harmonies were very pretty, and they had a good band, especially the keyboardist, who added some muscle to the R&B leanings they explore on their second full-length album, “Talking To You Talking To Me.”
Chandra and Leigh Watson started out as backing vocalists for Rilo Kiley and others, and they still somehow don’t seem to exist entirely in the foreground, although they were comfortable enough with the audience. They joked about the implications of the stained-glass
window they were facing as they introduced the new song “Devil in You,” which was the cleverest of their numbers, and yet seemed more like a genre exercise than an actual song.
- Matt Morris, in the 10 p.m. slot at the church, sounded utterly at home in the setting, reveling in the way his powerful, reedy tenor soared around in the space. He opened with an a cappella incantation that seemed spontaneous, singing “We are here on holy ground, as all
ground is holy ground. Let us open our hearts and let the music in.”
An industry veteran, Morris has co-written hits with Christina Aguilera, his former Mickey Mouse Club castmate, and his new “When Everything Breaks Open” was produced by another MMC alumnus, Justin Timberlake, along with Austinite Charlie Sexton. The songs displayed
a lot of craftsmanship, and Morris’ emotive R&B vocals invested them with oodles of melodrama, on top of what was already there in his lyrics, and what was supplied by his extremely polished and proficient five-piece rock band.
“Bloodline” lamented the plight of an abandoned teen mother, and in the last verse the narrator was revealed as none other than the sinner who caused her plight. “Don’t You Dare” had some interesting twists in the melody and the lyrics, and Morris cleverly worked a little of the Beatles’ “Can’t Buy Me Love” into his reggae-light number “Love.” “Eternity” seemed to last nearly that long, with so many biblical references that I got lost somewhere around Corinthians, or maybe it was Timothy.
I suppose it is fairly daring to put so much popcraft in the service of a long spiritual discourse, although I can’t remember what the message was. I think something about love. At any rate, the audience showed Morris plenty of love with a standing ovation at the end of his set. He’s likely to be a big success, with such strong vocal technique and enough hitmaking savvy to get an audience to sit still, on hard pews, yet, for a song that practically required a concordance.
- Singer-songwriter-consummate keyboardist Ian McLagan is definitely more at home in a pub than a church, and he found the acoustics at Central Presbyterian frustrating, as they swallowed most of Scrappy Jud Newcomb’s guitar parts and badly muddied the bass and drums.
Fortunately, McLagan’s vocals came through reasonably well, and although there was no Hammond B-3 on hand, his electric piano was pretty clear, and his playing was especially crisp and energetic.
Despite severe sound challenges, he and his Bump Band carried the day with sheer exuberance on “Little Troublemaker,” “Little Girl,” “Glad and Sorry” and Little Walter’s “Temperature.”
The ballad “Never Say Never,” off his last album, sounded so pretty, I started thinking afterward how many artists would have covered it by now, if it had been released on a Small Faces album back in the day. (I could definitely hear Isaac Hayes, Irma Thomas, Boz
Scaggs …) Although it really deserved a more suitable sonic setting, McLagan’s running litany of complaints was so funny, it was worth enduring the auditory defects. He chafed at the written directive he’d received not to swear, which he said was the hardest thing ever #8212; “That, and no drinks!” At one point, he sighed over the pitcher of margaritas waiting for him at home, and he told his fans “I hope you’ve all had a drink.”
Fortunately, there had been no prohibition on laughter, because a lot of us outright guffawed when McLagan suddenly pointed at the baptismal font and said “Don’t forget the tip jar.”
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SXSW review: Carrie Rodriguez
It never fails. Every year, like clockwork, some highly-regarded songwriter draws a late-night set on the last night of the SXSW music festival in an unsuitable venue and finds himself or herself contending with a few chowderheads who think Prohibition is coming back on the next train.
This year, one of the winners of that unhappy lottery was former homegirl Carrie Rodriguez, who was back in town to tout her new album of lovingly chosen cover songs, “Love and Circumstance,” with a midnight showcase on Saturday at the Amsterdam Cafe.
Make no mistake, I’m certain the Amsterdam Cafe is a fine establishment the other 51 weeks of the year. But someone rigged the temporary stage only about a foot off the ground, which meant that almost no one could see the petite Rodriguez and positioned the speakers at head height, which ensured that the sound broke up before it traveled more than a few feet.
Ah, well. If Rodriguez was frustrated at the production limitations or the folks who were throwing down cocktails with one hand and texting with the other while carrying on shouted conversations, she gave no indication.
And besides, she had volume on her side. She kicked off her set with a bristling, almost martial Celtic-flavored take on Buddy and Julie Miller’s “Wide River To Cross,” from the new album. A siren-like slide guitar punctuated “50’s French Movie” from her first solo album of a couple of years back and her own quicksilver fiddle lit the spark under “Never Gonna Be Your Bride,” one of those breakneck breakdowns when everyone seemingly hits everything they can put their hands on.
Ben Kyle, of the Minneapolis band Romantica, joined her onstage for a duet of Merle Haggard’s “Today I Started Loving You Again” (a role essayed by Buddy Miller on the album version). “I Made A Lover’s Prayer,” a Gillian Welch cover, featured a rubbery guitar line and an ear-grabbing groove.
Wisely, given the circumstances, she didn’t essay the quieter material on the new album, like her take on Townes Van Zandt’s “Rex’s Blues.” More’s the pity, but lucky for us locals, Rodriguez returns to her old hometown on a regular basis. Go see her at the Cactus Cafe and then go have an after-show nightcap at the Amsterdam. Everyone goes home happy.
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SXSW review: She and Him
Before one says anything about She and Him’s performance at Auditorium Shores Saturday night, one must say this: M. Ward, Zooey Deschanel and their bandmates all deserve a medal for the grand accomplishment of even showing up.
Plagued by sound problems that would persist throughout the show, Deschanel and Ward didn’t even take to the stage until 9 p.m., 20 minutes after their scheduled start time. The crowd was appreciably large but far smaller than you’d expect for the headliners at the traditionally popular Auditorium Shores stage — which might have had a thing to do with the biting, blistering cold and substantial gusting winds that buffeted the audience. Many were clad in blankets and Snuggies and couples huddled together out of necessity and not just affection.
Those circumstances are less than desirable, and it would have been hard to blame Deschanel and Ward for simply walking away or canceling. And although their forty-five minute performance wasn’t exactly one for the books, it went off about as well it could.
Sound difficulties started early, with Deschanel unable to get reverb on her vocals for a somewhat faltering, disengaged take on “Black Hole,” a problem that continued on a slightly more passionate version of “That Won’t Stop Me Crying.” Deschanel and Ward and their backing band loosened up and grew stronger as the set went on — save for an undercooked take on “Volume Two” single “In The Sun.”
Ultimately, the problem wasn’t with She and Him — given the temperature and wind, so blasting you could hear it through the microphones, it’s a miracle Ward could play the guitar at all. Weather and technical issues conspired to drag down the show, but regardless of who or what natural phenomenon was responsible, you’d be hard-pressed to argue that braving the elements was worth it — even for a chance to hear a peppy version of “Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?” live.
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