REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

Editor's Note: This week's installment of "Behind Bars" is a continuation of last week's column. If the words below make absolutely no sense to you, try going here.

THANKS FOR PLAYING

Thanks for playing, everyone! The answer is E. Congratulations to those who guessed right! There have been no lost testicles that I know of, but I'm sure somewhere out there a cue stick has racked more than one set of balls.

Now, the other activities listed are rather glamorous. But don't get us bartenders wrong - we're not all like Charlie Sheen and shit; we know we're not rock stars from Mars. In fact, there are many bartenders who stay out of trouble.

There are many reasons for bartenders settling down: legal problems, having children, and aging livers for instance.

Myself, I'm in the second category - having children - and I wouldn't trade it for the world. But, it's not an easy transition.

Now an exciting night for me is hoping for a cool celebrity appearance on Yo Gabba Gabba and sorting mismatched socks.

But, when I come to work, I pour the drinks strong - so I can live vicariously through my customers.

So, do me a favor- have a shot of tequila, make out with a stranger, puke in an alley, and try not to get mugged along the way.

In the mean time, I'm going to look in between couch cushions for missing socks.

"BEHIND BARS" LINK HUB

LINK: After hours trivia

LINK: Bartending abroad

LINK: Oh puck!

LINK: 86'd

LINK: More Aural Adventures

LINK: Big & Rich

LINK: Tales From the Incident Log Book

LINK: The Tip Jar

LINK: Aural Adventures

LINK: Smooth Transitions

LINK: The Pooper

DAY THREE >>>

My third day at SXSW began in disappointment: I arrived to Pitchfork's East Side Drive-In stage too late to see Seattle's finest hiphop outfit, Shabazz Palaces. They've got another gig today, so I'm hoping to make up for yesterday's loss (even though I've seen them no less than four times already, I'll never get sick of their sound).

Dejected, I ended up wandering to the nearby stage at Cheer up Charlie's, where I caught Vancouver, B.C. chillwaver Teen Daze leading the crowd in a midday dance party. Teen Daze is a restless creative spirit, with an incredibly prolific output and a constantly evolving sound. The tracks he played yesterday were synth-heavy dance tunes, which he triggered from a laptop hidden behind half of a cardboard box (to minimize glare on his screen, I'm guessing). He danced in place and waved his arms in the air, leading the dazed attendees in full-stop revelry.

My mood stayed high as I walked back to Pitchfork's stages for sets by Dom, Dum Dum Girls, and Smith Westerns. Dom's set was outrageous: the Worchester, Massachusetts band worked the crowd like seasoned pros, wowing everyone with their arena-ready, singalong surf rock. I realized about midway through the set that lead singer "Dom" looks a bit like Dave Mustaine, only I'm pretty sure Dave Mustaine never played a pink guitar or wore silver nail polish. They managed to include a cover of Prince's "Little Red Corvette" in the set, and during epic closing number "Living in America," Dom threw Brooklyn Lagers to the crowd and shared the mic (albeit only for a few seconds) with some of the dudes in Canadian electronic act Gobble Gobble. At one point, a bubble wand was thrown onstage and Dom showered the crowd with bubbles.

The Dum Dum Girls were a little more reserved, taking the stage in color-coordinated, monochromatic black outfits (high necklines, short skirts, garters) and wielding identical guitars. Lead singer Dee Dee's voice had a charming, warble-y quality to it that I'd never noticed on record, and their musicianship was inspiring. I didn't stick around for too much of their performance, however, as I wanted to catch some of Smith Westerns at Pitchfork's other East Side stage.

Like Dum Dum Girls, Chicago's Smith Westerns trade in a throwback kind of rock 'n' roll, and yesterday, they had the bratty attitude to match. "Thanks for choosing us over the Dum Dum Girls," lead singer Cullen Omori joked (he apologized for this statement later in the set). There were also lots of middle fingers thrown in the crowd's direction, fountains of beer spat into the air, and jokes made at Pitchfork's expense: "We got an 8.4 on Pitchfork and we're going to give an 8.4 performance." In fairness, their set was legitimately rousing (I'd give it a 7.9), but half the fun was in watching Omori act like a total dick. For his actions, he was rewarded with a bombardment of bottles, books, and bras.

The next couple of hours were spent milling around. I missed a couple artists I was dying to see (Julianna Barwick, for one), and ended up overhearing about ten seconds of Das Racist. It was at this point in the evening that I decided to make the half-hour trek outside of the downtown area and into Northeast Austin to check out a house show at Baby Blue Studios, a punk house/venue space/recording studio. It was my plan to catch a set by Olympia's Weird TV, but the show was running behind schedule, and I had to take off before they went on. I did, however, catch a rowdy performance by Austin punk quartet Creamers, whose sound was relentless and thrashy (I thought their most "garage-y" song was their best). During their set, an insanely raucous mosh pit was started, and at one point, a rolling chair was introduced into the fracas. It was sweaty, spazzy madness. It looked to be a pretty incredible show overall, with bands from all around the world congregating at the DIY venue, and acts like Rene Hell, DJ Dog Dick, and Caresick Care on the roster.

When I got back into town, I made a beeline for the 512 club, with an eye on catching three consecutive rooftop performances: Adventure, Cloud Nothings, and Toro y Moi. Adventure's performance was incredible. This was my first time seeing the Baltimore musician, and I'm mostly familiar with the chiptune, arcade-evoking sound from his first record. New single "Feels like Heaven" I've heard and loved, but everything else on his just-released Lesser Known is a mystery to me. Or was, anyway (now I guess it's more or less "known," har har). If last night's set gives any indication, the new record is stacked with greatness, and marks a dramatic departure from his previously-establish sound. I'm all about chrysalis-busting, and I love when an artist changes up their style from album to album. In the case of Adventure/Benny Boeldt, he seems to have ditched his old sound for something clubbier and more upbeat, with vocals on every track (where before there were none). It can be tricky when instrumental artists decide to pick up the mic and flex their pipes, but Adventure performed admirably.

Pop-punk revivalists Cloud Nothings weren't the last band I intended to see last night, but that's how my evening ended up shaking out. Their frenzied, whining sound probably hits home with rock critics of a certain age (particularly the ones working for taste-making indie rock paragons like Pitchfork), but fails to elicit much more than admiration on my part. Frankly, I generally try and avoid emo-tinged reminders of my misspent youth. That said, the dudes are excellent musicians, particularly their drummer, who was an absolute madman, and I was happy to have caught them.

Afterwards, my night went sour. I left 512 (despite a strong desire to see Toro y Moi play a psychedelic rooftop dance party with strobing pink/green lights straight out of Enter the Void) in hopes of seeing lauded minimalist dubstep soloist James Blake at the Central Presbyterian Church. Blake's already one of the big breakout stars of SXSW (nevermind the tidal wave of hype he surfed in on). Everyone in the young, savvy crowd I've been romping with at Southby has been incredibly stoked on seeing Blake but, to my knowledge, none of them have managed to pull it off yet. Despite arriving to the church with time to spare, the line was enormous, and security informed me that the venue was at capacity and "there was no way" I was going to make it in. Later on, I learned from a fellow Cascadian journalist that the wait to get inside was so long and interminable that one of his buddies had to pee in an empty water bottle. This is the kind of craziness Blake is already causing. He plays again today, and I'm not even sure if I'll put in the effort to try and catch him—during the time it would take to wait and see him, I could probably see at least three other bands play, and my operating principal so far this week has been quantity and quality.

DAY THREE >>>

The Back Pockets are fucking awesome. With roughly seven members (nine if you count the interpretive dancers in animal masks), the Back Pockets aim for and achieve a certain kind of grandiose chaos. All of the men are dressed in filthy wedding gowns. It seems like one of them only has one job - to run around with a drum strapped to his chest and make random "whoop!" sounds.

But it all fell together beautifully. The freakish punk aesthetic meeting the wall of sound was something to be seen. For a closing number, the band passed around drumsticks to everyone in the crowd, and we clacked and banged along with them. It was exhilarating.

I spent most of today wandering around, picking up strange shows likethe Back Pockets here and there. Another good discovery was Strange Vine, a two-piece blues-rock group. Beyond having solid, dancy music, what separates Strange Vine from the rabble is the drummer: he drums with one hand, and with the other he plays keyboard. It's crazy impressive, and he makes it sound so good you forget the kind of inherent gimmicky aspect of it.

I ended the day with the Nightgowns at a bar called Cheers. They went on at around 1:20 in the a.m., and so had a shorter set than they were anticipating, closing with a new song called "Away Away." With its strumming bass line and shimmering keys, it's reminiscent of New Order or Echo and the Bunnymen. It was the right note to leave it on.

More today. Lord, grant me the courage to withstand this sunburn.

IT'S LIKE A GRIT CITY STYLE, CAFFEINATED SOAP OPERA >>>

Randy and Aya Hashiguch, a husband and wife team, would like to introduce you to Dukesbay Productions, an independent production company created to encourage the showcasing of local talent. Placing center stage: the diversity of our local talented folks, including age, religion and ethnic and cultural differences often under-represented on the stage.

Enter Java Tacoma: Episode 37, Ashes to Ashes, Cup to Cup, an ode to the unintentional (though very intentional here) humor and dramatic storylines of daytime TV that plays heavily off the average Tacoman's undying adoration for our favorite caffeinated beverage. Java Tacoma: Episode 37 is the first in what is planned to be a yearly installment of this series.

Mick Flaaen, of Welcome to Parkland fame, Joseph Grant, Dukesbay founder Aya Hashiguchi herself, Betzy Miller and Laurie Sifford round out the cast of five, all portraying locals whose lives are interwoven as frienemies. Their weapon of choice: daily banter, including the usual jealousy and cheating, with some cannibalism a la Soylent Green thrown in for good measure.

*Cue dramatic music and gasps. * " They're making our food out of people."  ... Or in this case our coffee.

Writer Curtis B. Swanson tactfully and successfully crafts work brimming with humor, Tacoma lore and daydream sequences in this live soap opera set in a coffee shop.

Java Tacoma: Episode 37 alsoproves to be an appropriate preface to the future of Dukesbay's relationship with the community, being full of Tacoma trivia - usually in the form of a punch line. After all, if we can't get some belly laughs out of our own quirks we're taking ourselves entirely too seriously.

Did I mention the $15 admission includes coffee and goodies from Corina Bakery? No? Well, then, bonus!

Catch the final weekend of Java Tacoma: Episode 37, Ashes to Ashes, Cup to Cup at the Trinity Fellowship Hall. I suggest arriving early for optimal parking and snack options.

[The Trinity Fellowship Hall, Java Tacoma: Episode 37, March 18-19, 7:30 p.m., $15, 1619 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, dukesbay.org]

WHAT WILL THE FUTURE HOLD? >>>

The other morning while listening to National Public Radio's "Morning Edition" on KPLU, and a story regarding the Libyan hoopla, I was struck by a muse: will my children be able to listen to this?  Or will my children have to choose between Clear Channel or Fox News with Uncle Bill O'Riley in lieu of the greatest legitimate highbrow liberal media outlet (at least produced on this content) this nearing socialist has ever heard?

The thought had been waxing and waning though my noggin for a while now. With the federal budget tightening on everything other than essential functions it is hard to believe that some of the Right Wing nut jobs won't achieve in taking "Bird Note," "Car Talk," or "This American Life" away from the people.

I shot off an email to the KPLU's General Manager Paul Stankavich asking his opinion on the impact of the possibility of federal cuts.  Mr. Stankavich noted that if federal funding was removed "...our reduced services would very likely be noticed by the public." 

For this little leftist that could mean all sorts of no-good.  Would KPLU revert back to the limited schedule it held prior to 1985?  Will I have to turn elsewhere to hear the music of John Pizzarelli? Who knows, but it doesn't look good. While my interview with Pizzarelli was earlier this week, the U.S. House voted today to cut funding of National Public Radio and its affiliate stations. The bill is not expected to make it through the Senate, however. It is all yet unknown to what the true impact will be. 

I've read in the Washington Post direct federal funding for NPR only accounts for two-percent of their overall budget.  So, two-percent ... What the big deal?  The two-percent figure doesn't take into account that member stations, like KPLU, are funded primarily though federal grants, underwriters and fundraising. The largest portion of which is the federal money.  Without this funding many of the NPR affiliate stations will be forced to make major changes. 

KPLU has a large base of operation in the Puget Sound and will prevail, though the programming may have to change.  Other smaller station may not be so lucky and might have to close if the axe really, truly does come down. 

As for state money, it has been four years since a grant was issued to KPLU by Washington.  Mr. Stankavich adds, "We do not foresee any potential for seeking state funds in the immediate future."

I know I will be forlorn without the calm serenade of "Evening Jazz" as I drive down I-5.   But it might still be year before our KPLU goes by the wayside.  Mr. Stankavich assured me earlier this week, "We continue to seek to forestall any cuts to public broadcasting and our listeners (and viewers for public TV) are working hard to try and convince congress that these cuts will be damaging to the public broadcasting system." 

Though it is not a solid affirmation, I'll take comfort in it.  Our children have a fighting chance of being able to sip their decaf soy what-have-you and listen to the news of the day from a great local station.

ONLINE CHATTER >>>

Today's comment comes from various Tacomans regarding our story on the closing of Sluggo Music, including an interview with owner Jack Dolan and Plastards' guitarist Rich Bundy. The story posted yesterday.

Doug writes,

A 29-year hunk of my life will be dissolved. Jack and Bootsy live on. Memories live on. My 1982 Tama Imperialstar kit--if it survived this winter in the garage--lives on. Life is finite. As is every string, stick, G&L Skyhawk, little odd and end do-dad and dohicky. I digress. Life is finite, so a chunck like this of pure goodness, when it ends, is resonant. Cheers to you, Jack, and all the years of music you have enabled with your services, your friendship--under your 253 (and 206) watch. And bless the kitties.

CW writes,

sad..My Uncles band Queensryche started there

Matt E writes,

I am actually, legitimately tearing up over this. I have bought various drum hardware and bits over the years that are still with me, as well as picks, strings, a bass amp. Sluggo's, with that incessant blinking sign, was one of the first Tacoma icons I absorbed into my psyche. R.I.P, I and my friends are sorry to see you go, but thank YOU for your presence in our lives.

And Wayne L Brannon writes,

This truly is a sad day for the Tacoma music scene. Evan Groom and me used to hang at Sluggo's a lot. I can't begin to tell how many Basses, Amps, Effects, Strings, and various toys I bought from Jack over the years. The greatest thing about Jack was, as a local musician himself, he knew most guys were living on a tight budget. Hell, let's face it, we all were "Starving Artists". You could go to Sluggo's, find quality equipment at a great price, and Jack would, more often as not, help you get financing or let you make payments. I don't know how or if he ever made a profit, but you can't find a local musician who has anything bad to say about Jack, and doesn't love the guy for everything he did for all of us. Thanks for everything Jack!

SATURDAY, MARCH 19: EAST REGIONAL, FIRST ROUND >>>

Sixty-four South Sound pizza joints were selected and seeded by readers throughout February for the Tournament of Pizza, which is now three days into the competition. Brackets don refrigerators, break rooms, restaurant hallways and birdcages. Birthday parties have been moved to pizza restaurants. Everyone is discussing pepperoni and crust thickness. It's crazy fun.

Yesterday's Results

If there's one thing we've learned over the years, it's don't mess with Yelm. The eastern Thurston County community huddles around their own - more often than not with sleeves rolled up and a chew in place. Yelm's brand spanking new Italian joint Pizzeria La Gitana grabbed a respectable 43 percent of the votes yesterday against the powerhouse that is Vic's Pizzeria of Olympia. That's impressive. That's Yelm. But Vic's is awesome. They offer a vegetarian pizza by the slice for cryin' out loud. Congrats to Vic's as they advance to the Second Round.

Jump on Casa Mia's website, then click "Awards." One, two, three ... they list some 13 honors bestowed on their pizzas. How do you compete against that? You don't, if you are Figaro's Pizza on Olympia's Martin Way. Casa Mia grabbed 79.4 percent of the votes over Figaro's yesterday and will advance to the Second Round where it will meet Vic's Pizzeria March 25 - a battle that could test Olympia's Emergency Network.

The DuPont Farrelli's Pizza beat Ramblin Jacks in downtown Olympia by 43 votes. That's a mind blower.

Finally, in yesterday's closest battle, Ricardo's restaurant edged out neighboring Lacey restaurant Smitty's Authentic Chicago Style Food with 52.4 percent of the vote. This one is surprising. Smitty's serves an excellent Chicago-style pizza. Certainly, Ricardo's ultra-friendly ownership came into play. Ricardo's will head into the Second Round to take on Farrelli's in Dupont March 25.

No matter how you slice it, yesterday's winners are:

• Vic's Pizzeria
  
• Casa Mia
  
• Farrelli's Pizza DuPont
  
• Ricardo's

Today's Competition

OK, time to move on to today's pizza battles. Vote for one pizza joint per battle.

CONTEST CLOSED: Check Sunday's Spew for results.

Spud's Pizza Parlor vs. Papa Murphy's Take 'N' Bake

Spud's Pizza Parlor on Tacoma's Pacific Avenue posts pictures of its food on their walls. You can see their cannelloni and the shrimp salad in all its colorful glory. If you think all that cheese heaped and melted on the food in the pictures is probably false advertising, you're dead wrong.  Spud's may sound like a potato joint, but really, it's all about the cheese.  Everything ordered, from the pizza to the salad to the pasta, is buried under a mound of mozzarella.  That will no doubt come into play when they take on the "take home and bake" pizza giant that is Papa Murphy's.

Browns Point Pizzeria vs. Louie G's Pizzeria

Louie G has staked his claim in the handmade pizza pie world by honoring his own old-school family dough recipe, and providing fun combinations on more than 14 different specialty pizzas at his Fife location. Don't let Louie G's weekday $6 pizza and salad bar buffet fool you: Every pizza is hand-tossed and baked in a New York brick oven. And they now rock it - all-ages style - with live music. Browns Point Pizzeria also makes its own dough and sauce daily, and are huge on local community. This is the spotlight battle of the day.

Neo Wood Fired Pizza vs. Milton Tavern

Neo hand-shape and stretch their dough daily to form Neapolitan pizzas that are placed into 500-degree wood-fired ovens to quick-bake, which forms the essential black blisters (not burns) on their bubbly, delicious pizzas. Milton Tavern's turnaround is legendary. In the not-so-distant past, this establishment was home to scuffles, surly bikers and a cloud of thick smoke (they went smokeless before the ban). Today, you'll find the place full of lighthearted regulars, 20-somethings on up, enjoying the Milton's casual and comfortable ambiance, shiny, happy servers, and impeccable pizza.

Trackside Pizza vs. Round Table Pizz

Trackside Pizza opened in the spring of 2006 offering both classic and foo-foo toppings. Have you tried their tasty Chihuahua al Pacifico? Italian sausage, pepperoni, jalapeno and loads of garlic - and it and all their pizzas can be ordered online. The Round Table Pizza franchise has been kicking it since 1951, with several locations in the South Sound. They claim it's the "Last Honest Pizza." Honestly, they'll have their hands full today with the popular Trackside.

Tomorrow's Pizza Battles: Greater Downtown Tacoma Region

Game 1: Primo Grill (601 S. Pine) vs. The New Frontier Lounge (301 E. 25th St.)

Game 2: Upper Crust Bistro (2714 N. 21st St.)vs. Adriatic Grill (4201 S. Steele St.) 

Game 3: Harmon Tap Room (208 St. Helens Ave.) vs. Ravenous (785 Broadway)

Game 4: The Rock Wood Fired Pizza (1920 S. Jefferson Ave.) vs. Meconi's Pub & Eatery (709 Pacific Ave.)

LINK: What the hell does all this mean?

LINK: Oh hell yes I want the Weekly Volcano newsletter!

SATURDAY, MARCH 19, 2011 >>>

1. Hey, kids! The Pokemon State Championships are going down RIGHT NOW at the Greater Tacoma Convention and Trade Center.

2. Think all pianists - especially pianists schooled in the likes of Beethoven, Bach and Chopin - are lame and stuffy? Think again. Or, better yet, check out Awadagin Pratt today at the Pantages Theater in Tacoma. Billed as a "rare phenomenon," and a "wonderfully gifted artist and conductor whose dreadlocks and style complement (his) incredible talent, charisma and showmanship," Pratt seems certain to leaves mouths agape and ears begging for more.

3. Motamouth Jones has been making noise in the streets since the early ‘90s, winning battles, corner ciphers and talent shows all around town. Tonight, check Motamouth's uniquely Tacoma swagger at the Sampan in Lacey. Or if that's not your musical cup of tea, try the Volcano's comprehensive live local music listings.

4. If you hurry you can still get down to the Grand for the free showing of Kung Fu Panda, part of the Click! Family Flick series.

5. Vote in the Weekly Volcano's Tournament of Pizza - it's awesome.

NWCZ RADIO DJS SPEAK >>>

For my article on newly-minted, locally-focused Internet radio station NWCZ Radio, I reached out to some of its on-air talent for insight on why they feel the station fills a much-needed niche, and how their brief time at the station is already expanding their musical palette.

WEEKLY VOLCANO: Why do you think NWCZ is important? Why should more people be tuning in and how do you view the service it provides to the community?

"NWCZ is the kind of outlet that artists in the Northwest need: a homegrown station with a diverse and broad reach that can help expose them to a large audience. More people should tune into it and I think over time [they] will-it's just a matter of getting in the habit of setting the internet dial to NWCZRadio.com."

-Quincy Henry/Quincy Q'Dot, Fridays 7-8 p.m.

"The whole purpose, the mission statement for NWCZ and why I am here is [that] the main focus is the music; at NWCZ, the unsigned musician is what is showcased here.  These are very talented, independent musicians that struggle for every gig, that are on stage because they love the music and the artform.  That is what we do at NWCZ, we give these very talented musicians a larger platform, a bigger stage and get their music to the listening public.  We hear a lot from listeners that they never knew that band or that they were so good."

-Dave Samson, Mondays 7-10p.m.

"NWCZ provides a platform for musicians of all genres to be heard, and for fans of any genre to find a Northwest band that they just love. You probably had no idea how much amazing music is being produced and performed in the Northwest. And maybe not every song played is your favorite, but you will find many previously unknown gems for your hungry little ears, guaranteed!... There is some amazing stuff going on in Northwest music, and I am sure we are seeing some history being made right here in our own back yard."

-Sherrie Voxxy, Sundays 9-11 p.m.

"Much like large corporate retail outfits churn out the various competing products stacked for miles down the aisles, corporate music radio is still sending highly processed national artists out over the airwaves to satisfy a particular demographic in a highly splintered market. I believe that NWCZ fills a gap in this market by broadcasting only the local and regional heros - no big labels - no household names."

-Kevin Heiderich, Wednesdays 7-8 p.m.

"NWCZ is important because it provides a platform for some of our extremely talented musician friends to share their music with the masses. As we all know there are very few radio stations playing local independent bands. Even the weekly local music shows usually play the same bands over and over, so it's quite difficult for someone not in the clique to get in."

-Glen Casebeer, Thursdays 7 PM - 9 PM

VOLCANO: How do you feel, generally, about the state of Northwest music, based on what you've played or heard on NWCZ?

"That is simple...the Northwest music scene is blowing up. Similar to what occurred in the early '90s, in Seattle the artists are coming together every day to support and encourage one another. Of course, it is still ultra competitive due to the sheer volume of talent...but NW artists get that they need to lift each other up. My friend, Jeff Hamel, from Sweet Kiss Momma said it perfectly, 'Only one band needs to hit the big time, and the rest of us will have an opportunity to shine while the lights are on.'"

-Raymond Hayden, Tuesdays 7-8 p.m.

"From Bellingham to Eugene, we live in one of the most well-educated Baby Boomer and Gen X nesting spots in the country, and well-educated people apply liberal arts to their children in this area. We are rich in musical talent. Whatever your genre, you can find it in this broad stretch of territory, and you can find it stocked with a few solid bands at a minimum. When you couple that with the lowering cost of mass producing average to high quality recorded music, then the local kids have a shot at the market which was once dominated by giants."

-Kevin Heiderich

My fourth day at the South by Southwest music conference was full of surprises, terrific music, and more artery-clogging cart food. I encountered a budding rap superstar and caught performances by four others. I managed to scope out three of my favorite Cascadian bands, and happened across a Columbian group making their U.S. debut. It was a wild time.

I started my day with half a set by Seattle's THEE Satisfaction, the Black lesbian duo that recently signed to esteemed NW imprint Sub Pop along with Shabazz Palaces, their collaborators and cohorts in the booming 206 hiphop scene (SP's Ishmael Butler could be seen swaying in the crowd). THEE Sat's crowd was woefully small, but their attendees seemed to be enjoying themselves regardless. While I would have loved the chance to hear some of the new cuts they've been busy recording in Seattle with producer Erik Blood, I never tire of their other songs anyway, so it was all good. The beat to "Obama," in particular, never fails to put a smile on my face.

I had to bail a little ways into THEE Sat's set in order to make it over to the East Side in time for Portland band Hausu's performance at Cheer Up Charlie's. Though hampered by an uncomplimentary mix (frontman Ben Funkhouser's voice was way too loud), the band's gleeful take on wiry post-punk impressed as always. Throughout their set, great gusts of wind would blow through the outdoor venue, as if the band's rawking commanded the forces of nature. During the closing minutes of "Weaving Spiders," Funkhouser's Spingsteenian wailing coincided with a couple huge torrents of wind, and the young Reed undergrads looked absolutely epic as the dust swirled in the air around them.

Then my afternoon got very strange and magical in that "only at SXSW" kind of way. I wandered towards the stage at the empty lot behind Cheer Up Charlie's to discover Los Angeles band Sun Araw getting ready to perform. I hadn't seen this performance advertised anywhere, so getting the opportunity to soak up their psychedelic dub jams felt positively fortuitous (I should mention for the stoners out there—and Sun Araw fans are certainly no strangers to cannabis—that I stumbled across the band at exactly 4:20 PM). They played three extended jams out of a boss sound system with enormous speakers; the bass throbs of their dub beats sent blasts of hot air towards my face. Their drippy, dazed music seemed to perfectly complement the overbearing heat, and I was surprised that their On Patrol LPs didn't melt right off the merch table.

The intense weather gave me a craving for a lime popsicle, something which resulted in the most unexpected and serendipitous moment of the entire festival so far. After following the distant sound of an ice cream truck's treacle melody, I waited in line for about ten minutes before finally reaching the window. I was about to place my order when a lanky Black man in a tie-dye shirt with a towel over his head and a skateboard under his arm cut in front of me. He turned around.

"Oh, hey man, I cut you in line. Is that cool?"

It was Tyler the Creator of über-hyped LA rap collective Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All. Naturally, I said, "Of course!" Looking around, I suddenly noticed that all of OFWGKTA were present, along with a camera crew and a few stunned onlookers with their cellphones out, snapping pics. I was a little too flabbergasted to do much of anything except watch while OFWGKTA procured about ten or eleven sprites, and Batman and Spongebob popsicles. After a few minutes, the entire posse moved on, scribbled-on skateboards in hand, and I finally got my lime popsicle.

Still buzzing from this chance encounter, I went to the nearby Pitchfork stage at the East Side Drive-In to get a good spot of Toro Y Moi's evening set. Having missed him yesterday, I was determined not to make the same mistake today. From right up front, Chazwick Bundick sounded aces, from opener "New Beat" right on up until the end. His performance consisted entirely of material from his recent lounge, disco, and funk-inspired LP Underneath the Pine, which I had no problem with. As I much as I adore his previous effort Causers of This, I can definitely hang with his new artistic direction. Bundick's muse wanders, and I like to follow its zig-zagging paths wherever they may take me. Bundick and band had the majority of their sizeable crowd dancing in the breeze, and pot fumes could be detected in the spring air the second that they launched into album standout "Still Sound." I'm told this was the Toro Y Moi set to see yesterday—his performance later that night at Klub Krucial was apparently overcrowded, intensely hot, and marred by sound issues.

The next band I caught was Brooklyn trio Keepaway, known for their EPs and production work with half-serious rap provocateurs Das Racist. They played in a narrow outdoor courtyard with surprisingly great acoustics. I was also pleased to hear the band take oceanic sounds and make them sound fresh instead of ubiquitous. Their solid mix of acoustic and electronic percussion, surfy, verbed-out guitars and korg synths charmed, and I liked the sense of aural democracy Keepaway demonstrated: all three members shared vocal duties or harmonized.

It was a great relief to me that I made it to the Red 7 Patio in time for Shabazz Palace's set. They kicked things off with percussionist Tendai Maraire warbling into an autotuned mic and tapping on hand drums, before launching full-force into what sounded like a new jam with a klackety beat. Stas and Cat from THEE Satisfaction joined the group onstage (for their first song!) and would reappear later for what I assume was their collaborative jam on SP's forthcoming Black Up. Most of their set, in fact, sounded like new stuff, with one song so new that a fellow Seattle journalist (and SP expert) didn't think it was even on Black Up. The crowd wanted an encore, but the club management nixed this idea, to everyone's disappointment.

After Shabazz, I made the long walk up to Copa to see a band called Herencia de Timbiqui from Columbia. I'm told it was only their second-ever performance in the U.S., after one other SXSW performance the night before. The club was packed—maybe word got out about them?—and Herencia de Timbiqui were, without a doubt, one of the most energizing bands I've seen all week, and another tremendous surprise in a day filled with them. Their sound combined rhythmic flavors from Africa and Columbia, with frenetic marimba playing, a kick-ass horn section, three drummers, and a cumulative total of eleven musicians onstage. The crowd ate it up, and it was relieving to be in the presence of concertgoers capable of syncopated clap-alongs. I felt like I was watching something revelatory…the band has only one five-song EP percolating out there, but they worked the room like veterans, with huge builds and swells and breakdowns (and the occasional, out-of-nowhere rap verse). Girls were brought onstage to dance, super-deep bass notes were hit, and everyone cheered for more by the time the band wrapped. Last night was defined by encore blue-balls.

The last band I saw was Ford and Lopatin (formerly Games), the duo of Joel Ford of Tiger City and Daniel Lopatin/Onoehtrix Point Never, at Gorilla vs. Bear's Klub Krucial showcase. As a big OPN fan and staunch admirer of Game's That We Can Play EP, I was stoked on this set, even if it took them ages to set up. That said, it didn't totally live up to my expectations, but that may have had to do with my unfamiliarity with their all-new material and the "too many cooks in the kitchen" dilemma created by Prefuse 73's onstage presence (he produced their upcoming debut full-length). Prefuse cranked unseen knobs and dials, sending high-end sounds screeching to the fore, while Ford and Lopatin jammed on keyboards over throbbing backing tracks. Their rich analog synth textures whined and rippled over pulsing kick beats, and their pre-recorded vocal drops had an unexpected R&B swagger to them. I should also mention their visuals, which hit all the de rigueur hallmarks: dolphins, triangles, beaches, lazers, and more…it was the finest in retro VHS psychedelia.

I'm crossing my fingers that today will be filled with as much wonderment and discovery. I'm totally exhausted, but hungry for more. Only one more day of constant music, oppressive heat, and fatty foods. Bring it on.