Driscoll in Austin: Friday recap

By Matt Driscoll on March 20, 2010

SXSW FRIDAY, MARCH 19 RECAP >>>

It would probably be redundant to kick off two blog recaps in a row with sage wisdom from our new favorite Austin cab driver, Frederick - the Jamaican American who took us from the airport to our hotel upon arrival at SXSW - but I'm going to do it anyway. After utilizing the bus on Thursday to make it back to the hotel, we called upon Frederick once again last night when it came time to finally give in to the tired realities of drinking, walking and listening to every type of music imaginable for 12 hours straight.

One of countless insanely nice Austin locals we've encountered during SXSW - the kind of pleasantness that puts a town like Portland to shame (Austin has been cool for a long time - perhaps they don't feel the need to act like it anymore?) - Frederick admitted what my wife and I had been speculating for two days.

"In two days we can start living again," he told us, his yellow minivan jammed up in a festival clogged intersection, his city completely succumbed to the grip of SXSW.

For 10 days, throughout the interactive, film and music portions of SXSW, Austin is a complete madhouse. Streets close. Buses detour. Cops dedicate exponentially increased man-hours hauling drunken punks out of drunken punk shows. And life as usual in Austin comes to a grinding, economically magnificent, halt.

It's a real nice spectacle to visit, but I'm not sure I'd want to live in it.

But SXSW is for everyone - and Austin locals do take advantage. Amidst the body-to-body swarm that is Sixth Street at night, you're just as likely to see a mom pushing a stroller as you are a Vampire Weekend inspired hipster or a swarmy mid-level promoter. The whole world is represented. Gutter punks, frat boys, chicks looking for the eyes of frat boys, guys with snakes around their necks, people in panda costumes, people offering free hugs, people offering free smokeless tobacco, ranting religious zealots and even Joseph Gordin-Levitt and Matthew McConaughey come out of the woodwork for SXSW.

What draws them all? Specifically, what's the real appeal of SXSW for bands (other than the obvious)? Those have been the guiding questions of my coverage so far, and I may be no closer to answering it then when I started. Everyone comes to Austin this week for something, that's for sure - be it free drinks or something bigger - but everyone comes for a different reason.

Here's a look at how last night shaped. Remember to follow @mattsdriscoll and @weeklyvolcano on Twitter to get up-to-the-minute details of tonight's SXSW action, from a Tacoma and Olympia perspective.

THURSTON MOORE

No good child of the alt-rock movement could pass at a chance to see Thurston Moore and a 12-string guitar inside a club the size of the BroHo or the old Hell's Kitchen, right? Well, that's what we figured anyway - and after waiting in an impressive line of SXSW badge-holders with the same idea, we were eventually rewarded. The man behind us in line seemed to grow increasingly irritated with the almost constant flow of people asking us what we were in line for, only to return blank stares when we said Thurston Moore.

Eventually, he just started saying Van Halen.

Moore's performance was one of numerous shows obviously appreciated more by the "industry types" in Austin this week than the common festivalgoer.

Moore played a handful of solo songs, shuffling through a stack poorly organized lyric sheets between numbers, but easing any awkwardness with wit and affable indie charm. At one point, while searching for the words for his next tune, an attendee called out for a Sonic Youth song. Unfazed, smiling, and swatting the hair from his face - still buried in lyric sheets- Moore simply replied, "I don't play covers."

What the former Sonic Youth frontman did deliver was five or six quintessential acoustic art rock songs - the first handful sounding somewhat identical, before the last two - which Moore proclaimed "unfinished" - took a strong turn toward the atmospheric and experimental. The set culminated with Moore incessantly strumming his only accompaniment on stage, the aforementioned 12-string, producing a backdrop eerily similar to sustained synth notes. Really, you would expect nothing else from him. Though the show was barebones, and brief, generally the crowd left feeling like they'd gotten what they came for - or, at least we did.

Later in the evening - at the same tiny venue - Moore played another set with the super group Demolished Thoughts, which includes Andrew WK, Jay Mascis, Don Fleming and Awesome Allison. There's no doubt in my mind it was spectacular. The reality of SXSW is you have to come to terms with the fact you're going to end up missing 60 percent of all the awesomeness. It can be a tough pill to swallow, but you have no choice.

ATOMIC OUTLAWS

Well, Tacoma - when Austin thinks of T-town, they may very well now envision the Atomic Outlaws. The band proudly proclaimed their place of residence to a surly crowd of tallboy drinkers gathered around the Texas Rock Fest Stage (where we saw SweetKiss Momma on Thursday), and - like it or not - there were plenty of cans raised in appreciation. 

Or, at least everyone that wasn't fixated on the hired, scantily clad dancers stage right, raised a can in appreciation.

Not surprising, Atomic Outlaws did what they always do - deliver '80s rock circa 2010. There was plenty of prancing, plenty of posturing, and plenty of call and response with the crowd.

"Who's getting fucked up tonight?" the band was wonder aloud, catching its breath between big-haired arena rock numbers.

Many were already there.

QUASI

With the release of American Gong, Quasi's eighth official record, in February - former husband and wife Sam Coomes and Janet Weiss - along with newly "official" bassist Joanna Bolme - once again reminded us all why they're so fucking amazing. Weiss, quite simply, is a top 10 drummer. Coomes' guitar work is as innovative as it is rock solid. And when their voices come together, producing that classic Quasi harmony you just can't help but get behind - the results are what rock should be.

Antone's in Austin found this out last night as well, though my guess is all in attendance were already well aware.

Choosing a nice selection, which included the slightly more developed material of American Gong, along with plenty of classics like "Master and Dog" from the Hot Shit! record, Quasi reached that unfortunately rare moment in live music where the band and the crowd are having equal fun. It was nice to be a part of it.

DEAD SEXY INC.

SXSW is for everyone - even the French. A double-take-worthy mesh of electronic, disco and punk, France's Dead Sexy Inc. came to Austin like so many others - looking for as many ears as possible and hopefully a few connections. When their publicist described them as reminiscent of Love and Rockets, I was skeptical - but only because I'm skeptical of anything publicists say. Turns out, though, these three Euro rockers have been one of the most interesting things I've stumbled upon during this year's SXSW. I sat down with the band prior to their show last night on an Austin rooftop, and that story will be posting to this Web's sites music section tomorrow. It'll be everything you ever wanted to know about French electronic/disco/punk and more.

THE XX

To be brutally honest - and I realize this will put me at odds with not only things like Rolling Stone top records lists and Metacritic, but plenty of folks whose musical opinion I trust: I just don't fucking get The xx. The London three-piece dream poppers are ridiculously hot right now - as evident by the number of badge holders attracted to their numerous SXSW shows this week - but I'm afraid I've officially missed the boat.

Playing in what had to be one of the most bizarrely cool situations I've ever had the chance to witness - a huge Presbyterian church in downtown Austin, the band's signature white XXs sitting eerily below a gigantic cross - The xx produced a vibe fitting for the location. The audience sat in rapture, almost too connected to talk between songs. Flashbulbs were constant. Hushed anticipation greeted every drone or electronic drum slap.

I however, still didn't get it. I'm afraid I never will. It kind of made me tired, or maybe I was just kind of drunk.

Either way, as my mom used to say about potatoes - which I also strangely don't appreciate - more xx for the rest of you.

LINK: More photos from Friday's SXSW adventure

Photography by Jennifer Driscoll