Festivals

SXSW 2013: Suicide Girls,Janes Addiction. Girl Talk & more

Normally you have to read this stuff 6 months behind schedule because I’m so busy/lazy and after the hurricane that is SXSW it normally takes about six months to get me to talk about it again. This time I wanted to go ahead and get it over with and get closure on it. I’ve only been back for less than 48 hrs as I write this and I can honestly say that this was the biggest year yet. In this case big, doesn’t necessarily mean good and in alot of way it means bad. Bigger acts mean bigger headaches and sorry for the negativity but that’s what it felt like for me this year, one big headache. We did see some great acts, our own showcases went well etc – but their was such a disparaging weirdness this year combined with some baffling dysfunction of our own that made me so glad when it ended and we made it home in one piece (barely).

Day 1 – Mar 9th

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that we were going too early. 4-5 days alone is always too much but 8? And this was Jessica’s first year. We were asking for trouble. Leaving in the morning after not getting much sleep I pulled over half way through the trip to let her take over and drive. What took place 45 mins later was NOT her fault, but I have to tease her because whatever the Midas Touch is, she seemingly has the opposite of because things tend to go awry without explanation when it comes to her.
I am awakened by her panic as for no explainable reason, the car is losing all electrical power while we are going 70mph on the freeway. Still dazed from the dream state and now awaking to a nightmare I screamed for her to pull over. We switched places while keeping the car running. As soon as I hit the gas I realized the depth of our troubles as the car was not leaving second gear and all the gauges were going crazy. Instantaneously I discovered we were in Georgetown only about 20 mins outside Austin – that was the good news:
When I pulled into a convenient store and asked the clerk if he know of a mechanic in town, he took to polling the customers: By the third inquiry an older but youthful gentlemen we’ll call Joe, said that he did and while giving directions, it occurred to him that it would just be easier for us to follow him. Moved by this generosity, the clerk decided to return said generosity and not to charge him for the beer he was about to purchase. Freaking awesome and only in Texas.
We follow Joe and a mile or so and he was right, we would never have found it without following him. However, the place, we will call Bruce’s, was closed all weekend.
Joe told us he was afraid that would be the case with this place and any other in town, but offered directions to another nearby. We didn’t make it 100 yards before the car said goodnight – we were stuck/fucked.
Joe made a series of helpful suggestions and was the most kind and sincere person I can recall meeting in recent memory and seemed regretful when he left that he couldn’t do more for us bless him, only to return with a fistful of cash a few mins later. I did my best to refuse this overwhelming and amazing gesture but he insisted that I take $50 – Can you believe that? $50 from a total stranger – Freaking awesome and only in Texas.
It was Sat night and Joe was buying a beer and a lottery ticket – he was attractive for an older man and dressed stylish. He made it clear when I refused the money that “he didn’t need it” and seemed to enjoy helping us greatly. My guess was that Joe was probably a widower or just bored – regardless he was a godsend and we won’t soon forget how much he helped us.
Enter the next stage of random/weirdness/dysfunction:

Our only real option was to call the lady that we were staying with, Cecilia, who lives in North Austin only 15 mins from here to see if she could come pick us up.
To unpack things a bit, Jess nor I both had ever met this person: To be clear, my business trip accommodations are not my girlfriend’s responsibilities as well as I’m simply too old to be sleeping on anyone’s couch. However we were having difficulties securing a place (another sign of the festival’s exponential growth) and Jess was eager to make an ample contribution to her first visit to SXSW.
So she reached out to a friend, Tammy, who recommended Cecilia – a Peruvian women in her 50s that had met my only requirements that we have our own room, a bed and a key to come and go as we please. Though under the guise of in the name of “friendship” and solidarity, she was still asking for a “donation” but we will get to that in a second.
While Jess is calling Cecilia, I’m taking Joe’s advice and calling the police and telling them the situation and that I will back for the car on Monday. In no time flat, Cecilia arrives to our rescue – she is sweet, charming and energetic and we are grateful as she whisks us to the house and eager to know all about us.

She is enthusiastically talking a mile a minute as she gives us the tour and shows us to our room – The house looks like a Peruvian women in her mid 50s lives here – It’s clean, but old, cluttered but not unmanageable, and their is an intense stench of marijuana smoke hanging in the air in every room.
Though she is never once rude or unkind to me, the message is clear that boys are gross and women are superior and I’m only to use the bathroom out in the garage and not soil the ladies restroom with my maleness.
I was getting a sense that besides the money, her motivation for letting us stay could have been that she wanted to fuck my girlfriend, especially when she eagerly offered to help Jess when she was changing into her stockings and garters for the party tonight. In Cecilia’s defense, Jess has zero girl training and needed all the help she could getting them on, but as much as I adore Jess, she often aligns herself with people that though share her passion for causes that she’s interested in: LGBT equality, activism for the poor, etc – They often take advantage of her good nature.

It would be difficult to over-exaggerate the weirdness that soon followed: For one, Cecelia was bouncing around and talking like a teenager about SXSW – and not in that “I know I’m old but look how down I can be” way, but genuinely immature. I don’t knock older people and encourage them to stay youthful and having fun really doesn’t have to end – but she was babbling and stoned out of her mind about parties, bands and the people she knew etc.
Next, the story about when we were leaving to go downtown kept changing: I made it clear that it was business and important and the only reason we came so early, and now Dependant on her we were at the mercy of her fluctuating lucidity.
Now getting us downtown was NOT her responsibility obviously, but when she said she would get us down there I trusted and believed her, I had to, I had no choice. But she kept giving us the run-around sometimes incoherently so and I could hear her in the other room on the phone trading status with a friend that made it clear that this 55 year old Peruvian woman (who was also unemployed as well) who was acting like a teenager, had been up the entire previous evening doing drugs.
The fatigue was kicking in on her and so now she couldn’t take us downtown – I pleaded with her and even made a cash offer but to no avail, we were stuck/fucked once again.

She made an effort to call people to take us, but I soon learned it was all a work. Since she had picked us up and I was dependent on her taking me back to my car in Georgetown on Mon, I double downed on my cash offer, but that was still futile. Then she comes rushing into our room with a eureka-like cadence and shouts “I know!, put an add on Craigslist!!” – I stammered to response that this woman not only was wanted us to take a ride from complete strangers but also invite them to her home to pick us up.
I went outside to smoke and to clear my head of the day’s events when she called me telling me that she had found us a ride – ok holy shit.
I soon learned how – she had called her friend Ernesto to come get us, and obviously I was going to compensate him for his time and gas, but unbeknown to me, the work was that she had promised him the sum that I was offering her TOTAL for all of the rides she had/will give us. Ernesto, (who was also unemployed) was all too happy to take $50 for a $5.00 ride downtown – That $50 bill that Joe had given me, was now his. Motherfucker we had been worked and we still had to get home somehow.

Suicide Girls Interactive Party – Hotel Vegas – 1500 E 6th St

Ok so the thing that were trying to get to so bad, and the only reason we came on Sat instead of Tues what was promised to be this super awesome Suicide Girls (hence Jess’s stocking and garters getup) – If you don’t know what Suicide Girls is Google it (but not while at work) and you can thank me later.
I had business here, my girl was looking super fine and after all we had been through today, we were finally here, only to discover that this was not only the lamest party we went to, the entire time we were in Austin this year, but perhaps one of the lamest ever.
The party started at 7pm (it was now 9pm) and there was nothing happening. It seemed like a pre-amble, not like a post-we-missed-it vibe, but it never got off the ground. The invitation made it sound like this was going to be the greatest thing ever: Free memberships to the site, free booze, model hopeful auditions, insanity galore.
Instead it was outside in 45 degree weather, their were no free memberships left, the auditions were over, no nothing really, and they were charing $4 for cans of Tecate’.
Now, I’m not some spoiled brat that wants everything for free etc but their were no business here for me.
There were a few hotties however:

We checked out the local vintage clothing from American Icon that had a pop-up store here, but after an hour of overall dissapointment we left for Viceland –

ViceLand w/ Andrew W.K. –  401 E Cesar Chavez

Though Jessica was wearing stiletto boots, we decided to walk the 10 blocks or so over to the Convention Center where right across the street is where Vice had their annual party set up. Thankfully their wasn’t much of a line and we were able to get in pretty quickly. I loved the excitement on Jess’s face as I realized that she has never been to anything like this before. This is not only her first year at SXSW but her first time being at any branded event period.
There was lots to look at and enjoy as well – Though it was there to promote the next Tom Cruise movie Oblivion, their was an impressive display of space aesthetics and in the courtyard out front they had an actual helicopter from the movie –

You can always tell if the place has free drinks because the bar will always be mobbed – I got us a couple of drinks from some really hot bartenders and we went outside to patronize the first of many of Austin’s food trucks, as we turned to see Andrew W.K. giving an interview to Vice for an upcoming webisode.

While we were eating we were subjected to what appeared to be an opening act DJ that seemed to be playing just one band, and I that one band sounded like a chaotic, ambient death march – just torturous.
Finally Andrew W.K took stage and after all we had been through today, we needed to get a party going. I don’t know a single song of his, but I’m a fan of his positive attitude and ambition and live he’s always so fun. This time he didn’t have the full band, it was just him, a keyboard, a pre-recorded tape and the occasional awful backup vocal by a friend of his.

It was good enough to give us the release that we needed and actually started to smile for the first time since the car broke down (thank you Andrew).
That was almost short-lived as Jess had her phone in one of her boots and as she was jumping around it must have fallen out. We didn’t even know that her phone was missing until two Asian gay dudes were holding it and got her attention and asked if it was hers. They could have kept it and we would have never been the wiser until it was too late. I thanked them so profusely that I made them uncomfortable and told Jessica that if she loses her phone on this trip that she didn’t have a ride back home ? – Freaking awesome and only in Texas.

After it was over, though we had been temporarily distracted, we still had the nasty little problem of getting back to North Austin somehow and as if right on cue when we walked outside it started to rain. Not a light passing drizzle, but it was freaking pouring.
I despise cabs and avoid them at all costs and in this case it probably would have been around $75 one way – The pedicab situation in Austin has grown into its own cartoonish culture we noticed right away and I will tackle that one later in this coverage.
Their is another mode of transportation in Austin that I had forgot about called Cars 2 Go – It’s a unique little convenience that I’ve yet to experience where basically their are electric run little matchbox cars all over town you can rent simply by swiping your credit card on the dash.
Unfortunately l couldn’t figure it out and it was pouring raining and Jess was begging me to take refuge in the IHOP down the street.
When we walked in it looked like we had just stepped out of the shower, but they seated us right away thankfully.
We ignored our little problem over pancakes for an hour until it was time to face the music and here is where things are about to get really bizarre.
Even if she had rested/sobered up the weather was still going to prevent Cecilia or anyone else from picking us up – before we left Cecilia had mentioned something to us about a friend of hers that we should stay with that is close to downtown that we initially took as she was trying to dump us off on someone else out of fear of not receiving her “donation” because of the car situation.
Now at IHOP we inquired further out of desperation and the instructions were as follows (I’m not kidding) –

“Go to (address) but due to construction their street is closed – enter the gate and go to the right wing of the house and look for a refrigerator on the side of the house that has a key and go inside”

Ok so let me get this straight….you want us to go to a stranger’s house on a street we can’t get to at 3am while its raining sheets and look for a key in a refrigerator and make ourselves at home…and not worry about getting shot, arrested or both?
Even crazier is that we fucking did it – what choice did we have at this point? – I hailed a cab in front of the Convention Center and $15 later we were in front of this house. The short walk though the gate and under the parkway was the equivalent of walking through a car wash. The gravity of taking advice from a stoned Peruvian woman at 3am that had led me here was not lost on me, especially when I discovered the refrigirator…..and no key.
Jess had reached her threshold and began to cry immediately and I wasn’t far behind – How had we sunk this low? I felt like I was losing my mind. What the fuck are we going to do now?

I get on the horn with Cecilia, I’m near hysterical now and convinced that this whole thing was something she had dreamed up and we were about to be shot by the tenants, arrested for trespassing or sleeping under this thing. Her advice of pounding on the window would have either made the previous mentioned fears come true or ultimately proved futile as it was raining so hard, I could have sliced the front door with a chainsaw and stuck my face through it and said “Heeeere’s Johnny” and they still wouldn’t have heard me because it was raining soooo loud.
I do have to hand it to Cecilia, she managed to wake the tenants by phone and after crossing the threshold of the reality that we were gonna fucking die out here, suddenly the door opens and this 40ish yoga instructor-type woman opens the door and though a bit grumpy (and righteously so) at first, she welcomes us and comforts us and walks us to a wing of the house and says pick any room you want, except the middle one – Why? Because Jess’s friend Tammy, the one that got us in this mess in the first place was sleeping in there and she was why there was no key in the fridge –
Aha! – I smelled a rat, but for now I was just so thankful to be inside and this place was like Shangra-La. We stripped our wet clothes off and climbed into this wonderful bed and I joked that I had been through so much trauma today that I couldn’t process that I was now in yet another stranger’s home. Freaking awesome and only in Texas.

Day 2 – Mar 10th

We awoke to a scene that even for me is difficult to describe the yoga-instructor woman that let us in the night before greeted us in the morning from the best sleep from the softest bed I’ve ever slept in to inform us that breakfast was ready. I used the bathroom before joining everyone in the large communal kitchen and while in there I see a notice above the toilet that said something like this:

“Welcome to Spankyville! – We are so glad to have you! – We hope you slept well and please help yourself to tea, juice and the sodas that are in the kitchen – if this is your last night at Spankyville or need your linen changed, please strip your bed and let one of us know – We’re glad your here!”

Ok, I don’t have one negative thing to say about our hosts and it was the most genuine act of hospitality that I’ve ever encountered as well as the most thorough. However, I wouldn’t be telling the whole story if I didn’t mention the hippie-commune like atmosphere. In fact when I entered the kitchen the yoga-instructor lady when asking me what I would like to drink for breakfast she phrased it like: “Good morning, how would you like to receive and transient your dechlorinates this cycle” – or something along those lines. Again, I’m not making fun of anyone, she was undeniable sweet and we were very grateful, just a different way of being.
We discovered that a plate of fresh brisket tacos with eggs and salsa had been prepared for us as we took our seats in this huge luxury kitchen. We meet the patriarch, Dani, the yoga-instructor’s husband who is just about the nicest person ever and looked exactly like my cousin William.
Cecelia had already arrived to take us back and we learn that she does the occasional odd job around the compound for Dani.
We also learned that they do not take any money from the visitor’s they host during SXSW or at any other time, they just like to do it. Amazing and that brings me to my next point:
Jess’s so-called friend Tammy didn’t tell us about this paradise for two reasons:

1) She wanted to keep the space for herself, and thus had the key that kept us in the rain.
2) She was working us to stay with Cecelia so that Cecelia could have a payday – just like how Cecelia worked us to pay off Ernesto.

How the fuck did I get wrapped up in this?

We get back to Cecilia’s where I worked all day while Jess slept with the frequent interruption from Cecilia to inquire about any number of events if I could get her on the list for:

a) Like a teenager would
b) To remind me that I was in her debt

The plan for the night was that we would go downtown with Cecilia and when we were done with our biz, we would meet up with her at whatever party she was at and ride back with her.
It’s 5:30pm when she drops us off at Antone’s:

I had a meeting there with the National Geographic people about some upcoming endeavors and we would be returning there for the party tonight.
We were hungry so I decided to introduce Jess to one of my fave Austin hangs, the Jackalope.
I know it’s SXSW but as sign of the over-crowding to come, in what is normally an oasis for me, you couldn’t move (or hear) in this place.
No sooner do we sit and order before this gorgeous Marilyn Monroe type asks if her and her female friend could join us:
Jess tends to attract gay girls and this being Austin and Marylin’s friend was from Portland, my gaydar was telling me that they were more than friends, but the reason they wanted join us was because the location of our table was in direct view of the TV that was to be showing back-to-back episodes of Walking Dead in a few mins. They weren’t hitting on us, they were just simply too poor to pay for cable television.
Nice, good-looking girls however and it was actually fortunate for me because as much as I hate to be that guy on his phone in public, I had alot of work to do. On top of this Cecilia, though she had spent all day with us and had two car rides with us to ask for the money, cowardly feigns that she forgot and asks via text.
Jessica is incapable of handling any confrontation so it falls to me – So now I’m working two phones, trying to eat, and be gracious to our new friends while it’s face meltingly loud in here. I was about to lose it.

I take care of everything for the time being, and soon the television show starts, we pay and give Marilyn and & her friend full use of our table as we bid farewell (but not before she gives Jess her number).

IFC presents Marc Maron: A Q&A and peek into the new Marc Maron show – IFC House – 302 E 6th St.

We were swinging by here to check in and get acquainted as this is where one of our bands, Psychic Friend will be playing tomorrow – As well talk with some of the IFC people about some upcoming TrickyKid endeavors. I thought this would be a good time because I wanted to turn Jess on to Marc Maron. She had never heard of him and I knew he would be right up her ally.
A joke unto itself was that she was dressed for the Girl Talk party later tonight, so here we were at this corporate, adult affair and she’s wearing short-shorts & a half shirt. Maron did not seem to mind.
It’s only 830pm when we are seated but at that same time, Jess gets a text from Cecilia asking if we were ready to head home. Huh? I thought we were meeting at midnight etc..? Here we go again:

If you are unfamiliar Maron is a comedian and podcaster and was hosting a first look peek of his new IFC scripted comedy series titled Maron. Marc was put in the unlikely, yet somehow completely appropriate position of moderating his own panel discussion along with the show’s director Luke Matheny and Duncan Birmingham, who also serves as one of the series’ writer.

 

The evening with Maron was really fun and I knew that she would enjoy it, but given her state of dress it kinda prevented us from the inevitable meet & greet.
Finally its time to head back to the Antone’s – 

Nat Geo Celebrates The ’80’s & Today @ Antone’s 9pm w/Girl Talk

Ok to know anything about me is to know how much I love the 1980’s – It was the decade I went from 5-15, so it belongs to me, it is my identity and I never tire of waxing nostaligic about every second of it. Earlier in the day we had even seen the Olivia Newton-John-ish 80s Flash Mob that Nat Geo had sent out to show how serious they were about their 80s.

 

Though, the Girl Talk crowd annoys the shit out of me, I somehow manage to still see at least one two of his shows during the year, and I never regret it. This time it being in such a small place was either gonna offer an intenese intimacy or it was going to make getting in even harder. I might have skipped it all together, but I’ve been talking with the Nat Geo people of late and again they were throwing the ultimate 80s party to launch their upcoming show about the greatest decade in history.
When we get there of course it’s a total shitshow outside and now the attire is totally ill-advised as its now fucking freezing outside. We did before we went in saw just how fucking serious they were by what was parked out front:

Holy shit! Holy shit! – I didn’t even need to go in now – Not only were we seeing Doc Brown’s DeLorean, the ‘A-Team’ van and ‘The Dukes of Hazzard’ General Lee, but we were seeing that shit all at once – My 10 year old self was exploding.
Thankfully we ran into our friend Adrian, he’s an actor that played the main charachter on the show Entourage and he’s also in a band, the Honey Brothers with our friends Ari and Dan, so were let in on the sidedoor right as the party was starting.

Girl Talk  spun his irresistible mish-mash of ’80-inspired mash-ups, digital samples and plunderphonics to a house full of amped-up dancers. This was one of the best and most inspired themed parties I’ve ever been to and it being 80’s themed was perfect for me. They had Miami Vice bathroom attendants & pay phone iPhone charge stations.
Jessica had never seen a Girl Talk show it so it was a good time. The sweat turned especailly cold when we stepped outside on our way to the next event.

Path 150 Party w/ Jane’s Addiction – The W Hotel – Downtown Austin, TX

In the first round of many to come of companies showing off or what appeared to be engaging in a pissing contest with other companies was when we got an invite to a private party held by the maker’s of Path. What is Path you ask? (cause I was asking myself that same question)
Apparently its yet another social network, started up by Shawn Fanning along with Ashton Kutcher & a former disgruntled Facebook employee that is in the vein of Instagram. How it differs I’m not sure as I also don’t use Instagram.
We were pretty wiped from the Girl Talk show and there is no way this party was gonna top the 80s high we were on but we went anyway.
We are not there long before we see Ashton Kutcher and said former Facebook employee come out, talk a bit about Path before introducing Jane’s Addiction.

I’ve never counted myself among their fans but they still put on a fun show that is perfect for like a late night, sleazy vibe and in a small place like this it was perfect. Shows you what corpoprate whores they all are, I saw them four years ago here at SXSW playing a party for Playboy magazine at an abandoned K-Mart across the freeway. I wasn’t here for scruples however, I was just here to have fun and we did.

After the show we still had that little nagging problem of how the fuck are we gonna get back to North Austin? – On one hand feeling proud of a full day of good work and seeing some pretty special shit in small intimate venues, and on the other hand we were inappropriately dressed hithchikers. Scratch that, I guess if you wanted someone to pick you up, my girl was dressed just right.
Not long thankfully someone did – You know those signs at the airport that have a picutre of guys who look undesirable and it says “Please don’t accept rides from these guys” ?

 

And it’s to warn you that their are predatory types that are not licensed car services or taxis that circle the airport offering to provide transportation to make a few bucks. That was the case here: A harmless looking guy in his late 20s sees us (or sees her) asks if we need a ride – now normally of course I would have said no, but my girl was freezing and we were out of options. I took the chance and felt like I could protect her if something went wrong but still not my finest hour.
We jump in, and as we are lauding him with gratitude, he cuts us off immediately and gets right down to business: How much are we going to pay him?

Again we are not trying to get everything for free, but that was just the vibe this year – everyone had their hands in our pockets – We were seeing signs for parking that were like $30 & $40 – even the lady we were staying with was trying to shake us down at every turn.
They also tell you not to get into the car with these people because they are probably crazy, and you guessed it – This guys was nuts and kinda scary.
His name was Al, a North African, who in spite of the fact that he kinda scared the shit out of me, it didn’t’ shake my shrewd business acumen and I talked him down to $20. Thankfully we made it home in one piece – Not my proudest moment.

Day 3 – Mar 11th

Ok so if you thought that was weird, your not prepared for what’s coming today. Though Cecilia had promised to take me back to Georgetown this morning we awoke to her already gone. We probably shouldn’t have jumped the gun the way we did but with her erratic behavior and the stress of the car was even still gonna be there was weighing high. Thankfully she returned just before noon to take us back to Georgetown, but you will soon learn, like we did that every nice thing she did wasn’t without an agenda.
We get to Georgetown to discover that thankfully my car was still there and exactly as we had left it. I had called ahead to let the mechanic who’s shop was only a few hundred yards away to be expecting us. Jess and I pushed and pushed and again the generous nature of the people of Georgetown appeared once again by the kindness of a stranger who helped us push it the rest of the way as well as Bruce the mechanic taking it the final few yards into his shop.
Bruce said he would take a look at it but it was lunch time so we had an hour to kill before he would return. The three of us decided to get some lunch of our own at the only available place which was a Golden Chic down the road.
A disgusting low-rent knock-off of my beloved Chicken Express, I ordered three meals, to treat Cecilia for the ride. At $6 a meal x 3 I should have expected to pay $18 + tax right? First of all the woman behind the counter moaned audibly when she saw that I was using my credit card (meaning it would have been impossible to pull off the scam she had in mind) and actually canceled the transaction by telling me my card was declined to discourage me from using it.
If that wasn’t insane enough she tried to tell me this meal cost $36 !!!! – I said try again and she said “Oh, I mean $26” – I said TRY AGAIN until finally she charged the correct amount. Everyone has had their hands in our pockets on this trip so far and there was no let up in sight.

A perfect example of this was while Cecilia just saw us pushing my car and Jess and I were trying to coordinate a plan she interrupted by making two suggestions:

1) To take me to an ATM and give her all my available cash
2) That if the car couldn’t be fixed today to hitchhike back to Austin as she was going to be at a party and unavailable.

At that moment I seriously contemplated that if the car does get fixed today, to go get our stuff and go the fuck home and just call this a bust.
When I told her I wasn’t giving her a dime until I found out what was wrong with my car she dropped us off, unwilling to wait for the diagnosis and seemed to resent Jess for staying with me with these departing words:

“Oh, your gonna be the good girlfriend and stay with him?”

I wanted to puke – We go inside and wait for Bruce’s diagnosis – All signs pointed to the alternator for which he confirmed as well as my darkest fear is when he rattled off that the total would be $450.00 – I really did almost puke that time.
I had no choice but to give him the green light – I made it clear that we had no ride back to Austin and that I had to have the car today and he agreed that it would be no problem.
We sat in the lobby of this shop for SIX long hours while Bruce would periodically come in, face a mask of dirt & oil and consult his computer. At one point I got curious from the baffling level of boredom and when I saw Bruce Google the words “Alternator Installation” I really did puke this time.
Where were we? – How did we get here? – I’ve never felt more lost.

By 7pm Bruce throws his hands up and admits defeat – He tells us that its not charging properly and that we should take it to the dealership.
It was running he said but suggested that we have it towed as we would be in the same situation as before. 7 hrs and close to $500 later and we were still in the same boat as before. I may puke forever.
Miraculously when I asked about the guarantee of the work Bruce performed, he declared that he wasn’t going to charge us – not one dime – I couldn’t believe it.
That whole day we saw people coming in and getting $50 oil changes – Do people in Georgetown just have no use for money?

We got the fuck out of there hoping just to make it back to Cecilia’s but lo and behold, we didn’t make it three exits before the same shit started – We were in a cyclical nightmare with no escape.
Like an angel watching over us the car conked out this time right in front of the dealership as I coasted it right in – once again avoiding a towing fee.
It was now 730pm at night and the rental car desk at the dealership was already closed. I looked up rental cars online and of course given the predatory nature of their business, they were gouging the business traveler as well as the festival attendee and were wanting $90 a day for a rental car.
We sat in the sales area, defeated, contemplating what to do – contemplating suicide.

When once again fortune smiled down upon us – Have you seen those Dos Equis commercials featuring “The Most Interesting Man in the World”?
Well we met him – His name is Rod Bailey and he sells cars in Georgetown, TX. What started out as casual conversation led to heated conspiracy theories of the JFK assassinations to discoveries that Mr. Bailey has done it all.
It was important to him that we not identify him as someone who needed to work here – rather Mr. Bailey was a workaholic with sadly a terminally ill wife at home and just needed something to do. He had been a successful business man, starting the chain of smoke shops called the Gas Pipe which are popular in Texas and a million other different ventures that our head’s were collectively spinning.
He was so kind to us and seemed to be genuinely convened for us – I excused myself to go to the bathroom, feeling a little better that Mr. Bailey would probably give us a ride home. When I returned to his desk he announces:

“Mr. Turner can I see your driver’s license please?” – Confused, I still complied trying to figure out the angle before eventually coming right out and asking.
With a wink and a nudge, he says: “Well I’ll need it if you wanna test drive this brand new car and keep it overnight until you find out the appraisal of your car” – while smiling from ear to ear.
I looked over at Jess as if to say “I thought you might charm him for a ride not a FREAKING CAR!!” – But I kept my cool as to not make anyone aware of Mr. Bailey’s generosity or to make him regret his gesture.
He takes us outside, gets us in the car, spends another 30 mins sitting in the car talking with us where we had the chance to thank him proper.
We couldn’t believe our good fortune today in spite of everything – We avoided TWO towing fees, still not sure if Bruce gave us a damn alternator for free and now a free rental car for the night, not to mention a great new friend in Mr. Bailey.

I was scheduled to DJ the Badgeville party in two hours after we drove off that lot but I called & canceled, After all we had been through, I didn’t feel like it, we hadn’t eaten since the Golden Chic fiasco, and I didn’t want to risk taking the car downtown. We decided instead to go have the meal of our lives.
Unfortunately the only thing that was open was a freaking Chili’s haha – but we made the best of it, ordered half the menu and got back to Cecilia’s shaking our heads from the day’s events.

Photos –

Roy Turner
Jessica Pardee

Catalpa NYC w/ Snoop Dogg, Girl Talk, A$AP Rocky, Matt & Kim & more (July/2012)

Catalpa NYC w/ Snoop Dogg, Girl Talk, A$AP Rocky, Matt & Kim and more – July 29th – Fairgrounds – Randall’s Island, NY

It had been pouring down raining for three days straight, and I could have actually come to this yesterday as it was a two day event but there really wasn’t anyone playing that would have got me out in the rain. Not to be cynical but their wasn’t anyone playing today that would have got me out in the rain either, so lucky for them it was nice and sunny today haha!
Since Snoop Dogg was playing naturally High Times Magazine was a sponsor and we have done some work with them and my buddy Billy from the magazine invited me out to represent TrickyKid at the event.
I love coming out to Randall’s Island, I’ve only been here really one other time a few years ago but its a really cool spot.
This was the festival’s inaugural year, and music festivals without a historical following or a known brand identity can employ many strategies in their inaugural year, one of which is “Appeal to as many prospective demographics as possible.” so they decided to combat this problem by throwing together a bunch of popular-ish acts and some quirky attractions—art, fire, a chance to “elope” with a fellow Snoop Dogg fan.

The musicians played across three stages, with a whole host of corporate sponsorships filling the gaps between the performance spaces.
A car company set up an obstacle course to demonstrate the trunk space and cool factor of its new trucks; a web site handed out face paint and animal masks. My personal favorite booth promoted a kind of guarana/caffeine pill that is supposed to be dropped into water, making it turn all fizzy and orange like an Alka-Seltzer from Hell—half an hour after it’s imbibed, your heart is doing high-speed interval training inside your chest. Vodka was hawked in what looked like a sprawling series of igloos and at Billy’s insistence I had to play corporate whore and take a branded picture for one of the sponsors.

 

There were other, less corporate, uninjectable attractions, many of which failed to reach their full potential due to Saturday’s rain. A fire demonstration was canceled; the bumper cars were nowhere to be found; one operations employee informed me that it took nine hours to set up the bounce castle that would serve as the “house of sham marriages.”

 

Matt & Kim

Matt Johnson and Kim Schilfino‘s brand of joyous, keyboard-driven dance-pop was more in line with festival-goers’ tastes. It also helped that after a six-month hiatus, Matt and Kim were grinning like fools on laughing gas and kicking into each and every song with abandon. Kim volunteered to the crowd that she had been aggressively Kegeling because she wanted “to fuck the shit out of you tonight.” Matt demanded that she booty-dance on top of her drum kit & both performed exuberant acrobatics that left the crowd whooping, cheering and trying desperately to catch up through the power of stomp-and-shout dancing.

 

 

Kim was particularly bouncy, covering the crowd in confetti, booty dropping, and inadvertently hitting Matt’s mic during their predictable finale Daylight.“I get crazy and just wanna hit shit,” she apologized. They recovered quickly, starting over again from the top of the very long introduction.

 

 

In my last entry I spun a seething, spiteful tale resonating with resentment about the current crop of hipsters and just hipster culture at large. To be clear I never said I hated fun and as minimalist as their music is and how much of it lends itself to all of that, just on their positivity and sheer enthusiasm alone they get a pass. I’ve seen Matt & Kim close to 30 times now and they never fail to put a smile on my face.

Girl Talk

So I left that stage and took a break by exploring some of the other areas of the festival. As I was coming out of this maze like structure I spot a girl who is just too cute to let pass and she is alone so I approach to say hello. She returns my warmth and in seconds we are laughing and telling stories – She is beyond hot.
So much so that I lose track of logic, but I was quickly headed for Earth when her boyfriend shows up returning from the restroom.
You know how when you are in public at a high traffic place like this and you leave your girl for a second to go the restroom, and on the way back it occurs to you that your girl is fine enough that when you return their is gonna be some asshole trying to talk her up? – In this situation I am now that asshole.
The awkward introduction is made and I leave them to it and head toward the stage where Girl Talk is starting.

 

 

If you don’t already know, Girl Talk uses samples to incite a fever in the crowd, though he doesn’t tease them out slowly; he introduces bushels of familiar singles to the crowd, tossing off old pop songs and rap hooks like grapes. I’ve seen the show a few times and this one was essentially the same act, with slightly new 20-second sound bytes, wisely pulled from this year’s top 40.
But very few people at Catalpa minded. The move toward the main stage when Gillis started whipping his hair back and forth was by far the festival’s biggest migration, and that’s because Gillis is really good at what he does. He knows the songs that make a certain group of people go “ooo!” He knows surface-level pop in nearly every genre.
He compensated for his lack of showy instrumentation by hopping up and down & pulling dozens of young people (almost exclusively female) on stage, and blinding the crowd with neon letters to “JUMP JUMP JUMP.”  a few alcohol-soaked guys shot streamers of toilet paper into the crowd, its all well suited to the ADD Twitter generation.

 

 

For a festival without a solid identity, where no one could really decide exactly what they wanted to hear, Girl Talk was a perfect fit. After all, he played everything.

A$AP Rocky

It was now dark and I wandered over to the other stage after Girl Talk had finished, for no other reason than just to see who was playing. The only other group that I knew that had yet to perform was Snoop Dogg, and despite his Willie Nelson-like status, I’ve seen it more than once and if there was something over here more interesting than I would just stay put.
A$AP Rocky was the last of the idiosyncratically New York acts to perform; he was competing directly with Girl Talk’s mainstage set, and he was finishing up by the time I showed up. He was plagued by relatively poor sound quality, but his desire to “fuck a jiggy bitch” was received with raucous laughter and a succession of enthusiastic candidates who were clearly confident about their inherent jigginess. (Rocky was one of only three rap acts, all of whom were slotted in on Sunday.)

 

 

I honestly could care less, though I like that he is probably the only person I have heard of to denounce homophobia in Hip-Hop, I saw him twice earlier this year at SXSW, including the festival-ending riot of violence that his group caused and I was really none too impressed. People will say that nerdy dudes like hip-hop to be subdued and conscientious and a guy like ASAP is too “thug”, but to be clear ASAP Rocky is marketed to the same Pitchfork driven social construct as any shoe-gazing indie-rock band. If just by being here doesn’t prove that, I have another example later in this entry.

Snoop Dogg

Snoop Dogg, has quietly transformed into a new-school American icon with a long career and a safe persona. But even though he’d clearly been chosen for his relative mass appeal, Snoop played the entirety of his 1993 classic Doggystyle. Though Snoop’s set was practiced and smooth, aided by pulpy videos which furthered his myth, it was funny to see the crowd bemused by such classic rap tracks as Murder was the Case or Stranded on Death Row

 

 

G funk is fast approaching its thirties and not aging well, by this crowd as they responded most to the two songs Snoop played last: Drop it Like it’s Hot and Young, Wild, And Free the latter of which has what may very well be the dumbest lyric enunciated most sincerely ever of “Sometimes we get drunk, sometimes we smoke weed, we’re just having fun, we don’t care who sees… we’re young and wild and free.” It’s probably the least divisive chorus that could be performed at a music festival.
I was standing watching him sidestage and thought I was getting a contact high cause I looked over and did a double-take to see Cyndi Lauper standing next to me.

People watching at these things are way more entertaining than most of the bands usually and this being NYC it can make it even more so.
Here are a few interesting things I saw –

Leighton Meester

 

 

 

 

Gossip Girl’s Queen Bee herself, I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a huge fan of the show though its total bullshit I watch it religiously (at least I did when Taylor Momsen was still on) – I thought it was cool that she was out in the crowd rawking with everybody else instead of watching from backstage.

Cyndi Lauper

Like I mentioned earlier, I thought I was getting a contact high during Snoop when I spotted Lauper standing next to us.

..and let’s not forget the fans – One thing I enjoy, especially in NYC is their is always “the trend” – it happens every Summer and you will see every girl of every walk of life sporting it. This year some may find a bit more difficult to attempt as the thing I saw everywhere was really high-waisted short shorts.

All in all for this festival for me the results were mixed; the lineup succeeded in having a broad appeal, but lacked a coherent musical aesthetic. Many of the non-musical attractions were spoiled by the rain yesterday and, faced with the prospect of surviving on its artists alone, it became a referendum on its performers’ current positions within the musical landscape.
Catalpa didn’t quite deliver on its admittedly ambitious extra-musical plans, but it provided a great opportunity to investigate those artists operating at the borders of the mainstream.

SXSW 2012: Erykah Badu Rocks Red Bull & ASAP Rocky riots at VICE & more

Day 4 – march 17th

I eventually made my way in to this fucking place as the Crystal Method was starting their set:

They were the same as they every were, forgettable but fun, and this crowd needed some fun right about now.
This would be extended as after their set a dude a came out to introduce a special guest that he accompanied with a fun story – The guest turned out to be a blissed out set from my man Questo from the Roots:

I felt like it was Thurs and I was back in Brooklyn at the Bowl Train party he throws weekly. He did just what he does best, play shit you wished you owned, from Slum Village and J Dilla joints you only hope to hear again one day.

The place started to jump and get a little restless in anticipation for Erykah Badu who was debuting her new act tonight, a group with the unfortunate play off the word cannabis – The Cannabanoids.
I couldn’t be more tired of the hip-hop/weed synergy – I don’t think even Cypress Hill raps about marijuana anymore.
However, I am a huge fan of hers and like everyone here was excited to see what she had up her sleeve.

The band takes the stage, which consists of just a bunch of producers taking their place behind their laptops or samplers, as she makes an entry only she is capable of. However this momentum was totally squandered by the most irritating intro tape ever –
This intro loop with its accompanying video footage would introduce each member and the joke was that they each had so many a.k.a’s – Ok this a bit a funny, but they would spend seriously like 2-3 mins on each member and their were like NINE OF THEM!!
That means that the crowd had to wait seriously another 15-20 mins while being assaulted by this thing.

The concept as she explained it, or more accurately boasted, was this whole thing was an improvised “jam” meant to show off the individual as well collective talents of the group – all plugged into one brain so to speak – Badu even had a prop of a brain to illustrate this. However the results were pretty disastrous and totally weird even for her. This might work at a really intimate venue on a late Tuesday, but this was Saturday night, St. Patrick’s Day, in a giant open-air festival on the final day of the festival, everyone has reached their limit and the only thing that’s keep them going is a party – so to subject them to some strange vanity project was a bit naive I thought. Badu could tell too, as with each jam came another collective sigh that people had climbed the fence to see this and were disappointed. Several times she asked “What’s up? Yall not feeling this?” – Sorry Erykah but no.

It was almost midnight and I wanted to stick around for Z-Trip and had heard that Nas was gonna make an appearance, but for the first time this festival, I was just plain bored, by myself and tired of standing on the pavement. Their was one business associate that I still hadn’t met up with this trip and tonight being the last night and now close to midnight, I should probably makes some plans like now to do so right?
No sooner had I thought that, she text me to come hang and see one of her artists – we have been texting all week, but she can be a little unpredictable in my experience so I hadn’t been willing to make much effort but now, this was perfect. She gives me the address, I’m about 6 blocks away so I head on over.
When I get to the address she gave me, it was some abandoned building, but it was across from the Pure Volume Party and I thought, “not this shit again?” – So I text her to ask, and she realizes that she has given me the wrong address – ok, shit happens, so I know I go to the RIGHT address, 3 more blocks away, that I BELIEVE is the address, and when I get there, it is but her artist had already finished, and then she notifies me via text, that also had already split – WTF?? you invite me over, give me shit directions and then leave before I get there??
She explained that they had to head to the performer’s next gig and that we could meet over there and that she would leave my name at the door – Ok fair enough, and this next gig was at the infamous festival-closing Vice Party –
For those that don’t know, since 1998 when I first started attending this festival, their is always the ultimate party that ends the festival on the last day – it used to be the Spin Magazine Party, that was held in some remote place every year that you weren’t told until the day of the party. I remember seeing the Flaming Lips in an abandoned used car dealership at 3am standing next to Tom Waits and Jeanane Garafolo.
For the last couple of years its been (appropriately) the Vice Party – always the young gunslingers associated with violence (last year it was Off! and Odd Future) free booze and the ultimate in bragging rights for those that give two shits about such a thing. It’s primarily like I mentioned before, the last party, and everyone, regardless of who’s playing wants to say that they made it to the finish line.

Quite frankly for me, I could give two shits, the party starts at 1am and is supposedly going till 7am – God fucking help us.
Kelly had made it out and she was with Matt over at Scoot Inn, that was conveniently one city block from the Vice Party, so I got invites for all of us and decided to go out with a fucking bang.

Unbelievable I found parking rather easy but that is where my good luck ran out. Kelly and Matt where gonna meet me when their show was over, but what greeted me at the venue was a shitshow, to end all shitshows – the perfect summation of the vibe,dysfunction and all of my aggravations with the festival this year, and just current youth culture at large.
Remember how I keep mentioning that if you were not on a band’s list you weren’t getting into anything this year – at this fucking thing their were actual performers having trouble accessing the building.
The people out front were not getting in period, thankfully I had an ace in the hole (or so I thought) at the side door where the artists’ were entering to use my invites.
I get over there and let me tell you something – what transpired was one of the most vulgar displays of social hierarchy from the grossest generation ever to exist – it was like Lord of the Flies on Hipster Island brought to you by Iphone and Isanyoneup.com – these fucking soul-less vampires were ready to eat each other for entry. Because what it meant to these bloodsuckers wasn’t the booze or the bands that I’m sure they had barely heard of if it all, it meant the inner sanctum for those that care about such things – with all the Facebook and Twitter and just constant self-promotion of their inane thoughts and postings of 10 clothes changes a day, it meant they had won the attention whore contest motherfucker and fuck her if she don’t like it.

I get up to the door and its such chaos that I can’t even get out if I changed my mind, and if I was alone, I would have just gone home, but I didn’t wanna disappoint Kelly and Matt who were expecting me, in fact Matt was downright harassing me via text, and I wanted to keep my business meeting.
People were actually fighting to get in and revolting by just jumping over the check-in table causing a fire-hazard crush blocking the door to get in.
It could have been a reformed Talking Heads playing inside and wouldn’t have subjected myself to this based on the verbiage alone:
“I know so -and-so – do you know who I am bitch? – my daddy OWNS this building – why don’t you follow me on Twitter?” – etc.
My buddy Nate could see me from the inside and offered a suggestion of a bribe to gain entry – if only I could get to someone even to negotiate that without getting killed.
So I text the business associate that invited me who had been giving me the run around earlier and here is where shit gets beyond weird:
She comes to the door, sees me, smiles, acknowledges me, but is now scanning the crowd again – I yell to her if she has any suggestions in a humouros manner, she ignores me. OK, I get her attention again while she’s looking around, and annoyed she curtly states that she can’t get me in to this party, as if she had completely forgotten inviting me in the first place – WTF??
Seconds later, while we are facing each other she texts me that “She doesn’t see me” – huh?
I hold up my phone to her and say “ummm…I’m right here….” – for which again even more curtly she states – “I can’t get you into this party!” – is this chick crazy?
So I hold up my phone to show her that she had just text me, and say “Oh yeah? well you just sent me this text looking for me” –
She looks back at her phone – realizing her mistake and without apologizing or even fucking ACKNOWLEDGING ME she walks back inside leaving me to rot with a sea of American Apparel employees.
A glutton for punishment, I couldn’t resist texting her if she had been texting the wrong person all night, or hell maybe all fucking week!

Finally I gain entry, my man A-Trak was also stuck outside and he squeezed me in – Matt had pulled some Matt shit and got in so all we had to do now was find each other.
I arrived just in time to see A$AP Rocky and his crew of 12 or so bringing their punk-inspired ruckus to the crowd. But, as the clocked edged closer to 3 a.m., shit was starting to turn nasty.
As the group, who encourage that stage diving shit, was in the middle of its set, an overeager crowd surfer grabbed one of the A$AP Mob’s doo-rags, causing the group to stop the show until it was safely returned. Unsurprisingly, the audience, themselves St. Patrick’s Day drunk and exhausted, didn’t’t take well to alot of inane berating the group was laying down and began throwing beer at the performers.

While A$AP pleaded for a truce so that they can get back to partying, another free beer made its way to the stage, prompting a warning: If one more drink that was not water was thrown, there would be “a beatdown.”
As soon as the words exited his mouth, a foamy beverage struck several members of the crew, and that’s when all hell broke loose. Quickly, the entire stage was vacated, and fists, bodies and blood were splattered across the floor.
You can see a brief video here –

The whole thing took five minutes tops, but left several audience members injured, and soon the police and security cleared the venue — four hours before the party was due to end.

I didn’t want anyone to get hurt naturally and was hoping my friends were ok, but if this means we can get the fuck out of here now, than I would have stolen that mothefuckers bandanna and started all kinds of shit an hour ago.
The place is in total chaos as the police are making everyone evacuate – I head for the exit and take to finding my friends once I’m outside, which looks like a battle zone as I’m seeing people hurt and nursing bloody head wounds.
As with last year’s Death From Above 1979 riot, SXSW 2012 ended with a striking display of violence.

I tell them to meet me on the side, and we finally meet up – Kelly looks like a million and one dollars in this strapless mini-dress, a ray of light at the exact moment I needed it.
Fuck it, now I wanted to dance with her so let’s find another party?

As we were walking to my car, I hear someone calling my name, and its my old buddy Eric Castillo, a fine DJ from Houston, who the last time I saw, ironically was last year at the Vice Party.
I tell him that we are headed (once again) to the ol’ faithful, the Pure Volume Party – and he and his friend join our little posse.
When we get there, and it was now 3:30am, the party was already over and apparently for similar reasons as the Vice Party.
Man, people are really fried this year –
Ok, last ditch hope is a few blocks away is the Hype Hotel – where we had our showcase on Wed – where it all began – how fitting to come full circle and the end the festival here.
We get there and of course they are not letting anyone else in, but the promoter sees me and waves us in and is generous to give us all drink tickets as well.
Alls well that ends well

See ya next year (maybe)….

Photos –

Roy Turner
Michael Plata
Jan Janner
Oscar Amos
Destiny Mata

SXSW 2012: Third Man Records Showcase w/ Jack White & more

 Their is a line that goes something like “People will amaze you with what they are capable of, once they abandon dignity” –
Let me be clear – I abandoned ALL dignity to see this show and I’m not ashamed. Well maybe just a little.

6:30 pm

Though its early and I was buzzed and dehydrated within an inch of my life – I left Stubb’s to go find the venue for tonight’s Third Man Records Showcase – It was not hard to find as all I had to look for was the Third Man Rolling Record Store – a giant yellow ambulance – that doubles as a mobile record store a la fireworks stand.

For those that do not know, the label and all its quirky ambition is lead by Jack White.

Though I was on the guest list and he wasn’t going on till 11pm, I wasn’t taking any chances.
Doors were supposed to open at 7pm and it already looked like the apocalypse outside – I’m not kidding between the customers buying records to the baffling three line system of badges, wristbands, and guest lists/etc it looked like the entire festival was here trying to get in. I started to fear for the other acts, that suddenly the rest of the city was a ghost town and when Eminem and 50 Cent arrive at their showcase to an empty house, the festival organizers have to answer to drawn guns that they made the mistake of scheduling them opposite of the great one.

So after spending waaaay too much money on records and running them to my car I get back to my place in line and here is where shit is going to get really confusing –
When I return the organizers decided to unite two of the lines and so the one I’m in is now expected to snake around to the other one retaining its same formation to varying degrees of success. While in line I meet some pretty cool people – who proved that while holding my place in line while I ran to get smokes.
I was talking to this girl who had come all the way from Denver with her husband just to see this – I was impressed but she started weirding me out with alot of talk about Jack White chat rooms and message boards and couldn’t even get out the sentence “Do you think we will get in?” without starting to cry. Ok – so I guess I’m not his biggest fan.
This dude in front of her notices that I do not have a badge or a wristband (because all that shit is a total scam) and it appears you need clearance from the FBI just to talk to the door guy, and asks how I plan to get in, when I tell him that I am on the guest list. He informs me that the guest list line is where they just had us snake from – So I return and ask the security guy that told us to do the initial snaking if this was the guest list area, which was directly being the record store truck, now totally roped off with an air of seclusion.

He lets me under the ropes and I’m now in this little area that again is hidden between the record store truck and the wall of the venue.
Also this venue, The Stage on 6th looked really cool and I’m sure it was no coincidence that Jack had picked this place to play.
Very country with Willie Nelson murals on the wall – but it didn’t help the crush or control of the crowd because their were several open air windows that allowed you to see directly in without ever entering the place, and everyone on the other side of truck was jockeying for position.

As I enter this weird roped off area on the sidewalk for guest list people, for a about one full minute I’m the only one there, before two people come out with the lists – one female – one male.
We are gonna call the male Brad, and the female Nadia – I approach Nadia because a) she’s cute – b) Brad had this real Abercrombie & Fitch snobby thing happening as he was being totally shitty with the first guest that approached him – giving her the bad news and in no uncertain terms telling her to return from the direction from which she came.
Nadia was really friendly, I told her my name, she checked me off her list and told me to stand against this wall with a line that was forming of other people she had checked off her list.
Ok cool – now we just have to wait to go in – I start to relax and have a cigarette. And we wait and wait and wait – I realize that I’ve been in these series of lines for an hour and a half.

8:00 pm

To makes matters even more infuriating as its totally unclear what we are waiting on to be told we can leave our little queue and go in, the entire time Brad and Nadia are greeting people they clearly know and/or were expecting and without even looking at the list wave them on through. To illustrate the military like approach this event in order to gain access (from our area) either Brad or Nadia had to give the nod for you to two security guards who then had to walk you to two SXSW officiates who would suit you up and then you go in.
Fucking ridiculous. Over the course of more waiting, one by one between Nadia and Brad they have told everyone but me oddly to leave, as in not go in, but leave this area and go back from whence you came, but Nadia told me to stay – but still not the go ahead to go in. What the fuck is going on?

9:00pm

I start to get a whiff of what’s up when I overhear a conversation between Brad and a gentlemen we will call Patrick –
Patrick is easy to spot as a member of the organization as Jack White always has his roadies/staffers not in the usual jeans and wifebeaters but dressed similar to him – in 3-piece suits and bowler hats – I’m sure they are wonderfully comfortable to do heavy lifting in.
He’s outside complaining/co-miserating to Brad about the first band that is currently on that apparently isn’t a part of the showcase, as they are going over their time – Obviously unimpressed with the band’s lack of status, Patrick establishes himself instantly as a right asshole as he cuts them into pieces and is threating to pull them off stage if they play one more note.
Where this conversation become informative to my situation is that Brad and Patrick, obviously working on the same team. Brad says to Patrick “Hey while I got you here, I wanted to tell you that we have alot of people coming up to us who are on Reggie Watt’s list, and we still don’t have his” –
Patrick who is completely unsympathetic to this, and apparently Mr. Watts isn’t one of the acts at his charge, Patrick declares his only concerns are those pertaining to the acts he’s responsible for and makes a cruel joke at the expense of any poor bastard who just happens to be on Reggie Watt’s guest list, as he alludes to whom might be responsible for its dismissal.

The puzzle is coming together now as I suspect Nadia knows this and doesn’t want to tell me yet, just have me hang out till the list arrives or in the case that all of her guests have arrived than only then will she permit my entry. I have an existential crisis that I’ve made decisions that has landed me on a sidewalk for hours awaiting the go ahead from some 90 lb unpaid intern to tell me that I can go have fun.

For a good stretch its just Brad, Nadia and I, sans for the occasional hopeful who has entered our little space to petition the guest list only to be given the bad news and directions to return back under the rope. During this time, I try to make conversation and appear cool while smoking. Not in an ass-kissy way, but definitely in a display that showed me as being patient, appreciative and the furthest thing from harassing. Nadia is avoiding me like I have the 10th Plague, conversation with Brad is not much easier – I learn in our few brief exchanges that (he claims) to work as part of the team that manages Jack White.

I’m still leaning against the wall, trying not to draw his ire, when he is clearly tired of my presence – when behind the other side of the rope, suddenly Sam appears with 12 of his friends he’s hoping that I can get them into the show, shouting my name loudly. Bad timing Sam, and I’m normally very patient with him, but I just had to look at him and shrug him off, but he’s insistent – Bad timing Sam.
This gets Brad’s attention and so he walks up to me – and unbeknown to me he had no idea why I’ve been standing here for so long – and here is where I could have pulled a fast one -and I might have if I had understood the hierarchy a little better at that moment.
Brad says to me “Hey I know Nadia already checked you off her list, so what’s the deal? , you waiting for someone? –
Right then I could have lied my ass off and said, “Yeah, I was, but I’m tired of waiting so I’m just gonna go ahead on go on in now” – And in hindsight I could have with no problem – but my need to be honest, actually alerted him to my situation!
I didn’t wanna be sheisty, or suffer the embarrassment of Nadia saying “Wait a minute he’s not clear to go in yet” – and I didn’t wanna be there under some false shit, so as I’m trying to explain that Nadia checked me off the list but for reasons that are unclear she told me to wait, to this already established asshole, here comes Sam, sensing my conversation with Brad was his only chance for entry ambushes me, and that was all Brad needed to tell me that I needed to wait on the other side of the rope with everyone else and he escorts Sam and I back to the land of the rejects, after all that waiting. Thanks Sam haha

As I’m trying to explain to Sam that I am busy and we would have to talk later, he’s trying to introduce me to his friends. I don’t want to be impolite but this could quickly turn into a case of disqualification by association, by occupying this little space with an agenda unbecoming of its intent. So as I’m trying to escape this, I actually see Reggie Watts come out and hand a couple of passes to some people in front of me that were stranded for the same reasons as I. By the time I got Sam and his friends on their way, Watts was too far out of reach, and yelling out to him and jumping up and down and waving my arms like an air traffic controller that has to piss real bad was one final indignity that I was not going to suffer. Bad timing Sammy.

9:30pm

Out of desperation and my limit of humiliation had been reached and wanted to salvage my investment, I make my move.
I see a tall, buff gentlemen in his late 40’s come out periodically that thanks to my powers of observation is clearly the boss to Brad and Nadia, who seems totally cool. Isn’t it always the case that those who are actually the boss are usually pretty relaxed, where as those that are pretending to be the boss are the uptight assholes that wanna push people around. I can always detect these parasites like a fart in a car. Still on the other side of the ropes I can tell my new found brethren are dead and have no chance of getting in, and I’m about to break away from the pack.
The older gentlemen we will call Martin – I get Martin’s attention, still in a dignified manner and articulate to him, who I am, what I do and what the situation is. He perks right up and whispers to me what I already know, that the Reggie Watts list turned into a fiasco.
He also tells me that Third Man had 650 people on their guest list – for a venue that holds 700. And that’s what they never tell you –
Their are literally at least a thousand people trying to get into this thing and they would never admit that they were only going to let 50 people that are not on the guest list, and all of those will surely be badges. I wanted to go tell the people with wristbands to enjoy themselves elsewhere and never buy one of these again. If you want to get into anything at this festival, more often than not, you have to be on a band’s guest list – those badges and wristbands are not worth the paper they are printed on.
Martin was totally cool, familiar with my company and assured me that he would get me in – he just asked me to be patient. Not to rock the boat but I felt compelled to tell him that I’d been waiting for quite awhile. I didn’t want to embarrass myself by telling him just how long I had actually been waiting, and feared that it could potentially dissuade him from wanting to help me.
I decide to roll a cigarette and if Martin doesn’t return by the time I’m finished smoking I’ll have to raise the white flag.
He returns almost immediately, though making a beeline for me he is looking at everything but me, but when we make eye contact, it appears that him memory was triggered or I’m just reading way too much into it.
Martin walks right up to me, but now the rapport is very different, but he is there to deliver good news:
“I’m going to go ahead and walk you in, since its gonna be quite awhile before they start letting people in again” –
Fucking victory – but he seems put out by me now for some reason, like the security guards let him in on how long I’d been there, or he was just taking on the cadence that comes when someone wants to remind you that they are helping you – whatever.
He lifts the rope inviting me, seems super annoyed by my cigarette, tells me to put it out and to follow him – he secures my entry – I thank him intensely and make a genuine offer to repay the favor – he yeah yeahs me, seemingly simply satisfied that I was now in his debt.
Whatever the case, I was crossing the threshold, passing the security guards that seemed to be actually rooting for me at this point, and now I was in – fucking victory – Total wait time: 3 hrs 15 mins

Ok so now I’m scanning the scene and realize just how small this place is – Its perfect for this – I see that their is a permanent stage inside that is small, in the corner and the one I”m praying that he is going to play on (I’m sure the people outside were praying for this as well) – Their was another temporary erected tent/stage in the open air large courtyard in the back. Reggie Watts is winding down on the front stage and I catch the end of his act:

He was really funny as always and now I had some to time to roam the grounds in the back. I was amazed at just how NOT sardines-like it was in here and was grateful for that. I go outside and I spot someone that I know to be a part of this production, because I would see her periodically come outside to check on/chat with Nadia during my life-sucking wait.
She sees me and smiles, clearly recognizing me from before – she’s friendly, introduces herself – we will call her Laura – and makes an earnest, non-sarcastic platitude of my entry. We are chatting and both being charming when she informs me of her contribution to this soirée, one for which she was eager to announce, was that of publicist. Not ot mention but at one of the most prestigious boutique firms in the biz – Nasty Little Man
Some of you may know this little factoid – the Beastie Boys have an album called Hello Nasty, and what its referencing is their publicity firm – Nasty Little Man and in 1998, NLM had 200 active clients and were so busy that when they would answer the phone, they would just say “Hello, Nasty” –
Ok, so I’ve got Laura so charmed that when suddenly we are approached by the president of the fucking company, who is one of the kings of NYC, that she eagerly introduces me to him – who we will call Steve –
A nice introduction is made, however with a slightly inaccurate mention of my position for which I quickly recant for her. Now I wasn’t falling all over this guy, but in my experience in NYC, often my politeness and Southern manners are often mistaken for eagerness or even sometimes weakness. So, with my genuine enthusiasm for meeting Steve as well as the self-imposed demotion of my status, she seemed to regret the whole thing before I had even finished saying “Pleased to meet you” – Ok.
She bails, leaving Steve and I alone – I make informative strides at conversation and he is polite and responds, but he offers little else to the point where after the fourth exchange, though he is never rude, that this is a one-sided conversation and he is showing zero interest in me and this is not a conversation but a Q & A with the dude from Nasty Little Man – Ok.
I follow up with suggesting that I need a drink and would he like one as well – This he seemed impressed by but also declined as it appeared that he feared that by accepting my offer would mean he would be stuck with me for the rest of the night.
I get a beer from just a few feet away but taking the hint I don’t return to the land of Hello Nasty.

Ok, so how about some music? In the back tent, the all-female band the Black Belles were setting up, who were all dressed up like the Wicked Witch of the West – The band is lead by Olivia Jean – If you saw any of the shows Jack White did with Wanda Jackson she was that smoking hot bass player, they were also on an episode of The Colbert Report.
Cool look and with a heavy sound I was looking forward to seeing them, but I’m afraid to say that I was very underwhelmed. The sound in that tent was horrendous but I’m not sure I can let them off that easy. I was watching in the back, so I thought I would snap a quick picture, when my hands hadn’t even been fully lowered before this junkyard dog of a security guy aggressively grabbed my arm, and threatened to toss me if I didn’t delete the pic right then and there – More on this in a bit

 

I was obviously super excited to be there but the vibe of this whole thing, not to mention the sting of what had taken place in my three hours outside was just not what I had in mind, and I’m sure I’m projecting idealism here, but not what I would think Jack White would want it to be either.
I know that actor John C. Reilly is going to perform next on the smaller indoor stage so I go in there to check it out. What a weird dude and one of my favorite actors –

 

You might remember he played a farceful character, Dewey Cox in the movie by the same name and actually went on tour as that character so I knew he was an actual performer but I didn’t know what he would be performing besides the two singles he did for Third Man. It was some really slow and very quiet bluegrass music that was not very entertaining. He did start things off with a joke that befits him: “Knock knock – (crowd) Who’s there? – See mop – See mop who (crowd) – Ha! I just got everyone to say see my poo –

Up next on that same stage was Jack White’s (most recent) ex-wife Karen Elson – have you ever seen a guy get along better with his ex-wife’s than Jack White?

She was really good, I really liked her voice, she sounded alot like Loretta Lynn and she is also really beautiful.

Ok we were now getting down to the moment of truth (or so we thought) – After Elson, we all knew it was now time for the main event and the man of the hour would soon be taking the stage. (Editor’s Note: I had not seen his appearance on Saturday Night Live yet, and it seemed that most others in attendance had not either as the speculation of just what he was going to do was completely in the air)

The whole place, indoor and outdoor began to make that nervous lunge forward to the tiny indoor stage in the corner. I have to say that what looked the apocalypse happening outside and no one else getting in, it really wasn’t that tight inside and in some places actually roomy. So I was happy in that regard that it really wasn’t that uncomfortable, I was about to find my discomfort elsewhere.

On the way to the indoor stage, I passed Nadia who was now inside the venue, to let her know that I finally made it in and to thank her for her patience (when perhaps maybe it should have been her thanking me for how infinite mine appeared) – She wanted nothing to do with me and seemed resentful that I went over her head to solve the problem. Whatever.

Ok, so I make my way to about the halfway mark, about 10 feet from the stage, still being mindful that I’m taller than most here to not get too close. You would think that after all the waiting I had done tonight that I could withstand anything. The wait at the Department of Motor Vehicles would seem like a moving sidewalk compared to what I’ve been through tonight but oh no –

As I mentioned earlier, now matter how impractical, Mr. White has his stagehands dressed alike in probably the most restrictive formal wear imaginable, and maybe that was the culprit, but it took six fucking guys to set up a simple 3-piece drum set, one guitar and two mics over a fucking hour to strike that fucking stage. The people around me were insufferable and this one dude to my left I could already was gonna be a real problem. By the time Mr. White finally took the stage, I was murderous.

Patrick, the patriarch asshole from before finally takes the stage to make the formal introduction – Remember about me attempting to snap a photo of the Black Belles earlier? – Well Patrick actually said something profound and not only cool but made me feel a bit of a hypocrite, but not really 🙂 – He declared that no photography would be allowed – period -and the penalty would be your personal removal. It was his explanation for this that I cheered – He said that they wanted to play to the people, not a wall of cellphones – that your memories should live in your memory not on Facebook, and it would be prettier than some shitty Iphone picture – a total indictment of our current culture that is paralyzed by their goddamn cellphone – an indictment that I support completely – This was their statement – All right Patrick, your not so bad.

At long last – you could hear the cheers coming from outside as he entered the building at walked up to the stage, flanked by six females, all dressed in white, that were reminiscent of the sirens from Homer’s Odyssey.

Dressed very Grand Old Opry he gets right to business and starts the set with the White Stripes’ Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground and the place and I completely explode – There was the vibe that anything could happen, what was he gonna play??

He followed that with a couple of quiet new songs from upcoming solo record, before returning the Stripes’ catalog with Hotel Yorba – One problem, my prophecy about the gentlemen to my left was coming true immediately, hell we were all excited but this guy’s reaction, was that of a guy watching Black Sabbath in 1975, and mimicking Ozzy’s non-stop, two-fisted long-stroke to the sky – however with such wild abandon in such a tight space, this presented a problem – fueling this was, I don’t know what this guy was on, but he wasn’t just excited, he was like rabid, crazy – even kinda scary. He keep elbowing people with these thrusts, some even to the face without a care in the world, and perhaps not out of rudeness, but just out of the fact that he was so fucked up he was completely unaware.
Well with that elbow now constantly being a distraction and grazing my cheek a couple of times, and that he was screaming so loud maniacal to this quiet music that making him aware was now my duty.
Right before Hotel Yorba – I got his attention, which was not easy, he either proved my theory that he was in a world all of his own, or he knew exactly what he was doing and thought if he ignored me he wouldn’t have to answer for it. I finally grabbed him and said: “Hey brother, I want you to have a good time but when your arms are constantly in my face and I can’t see and your hitting people” –
He just nodded and went right back to what he was doing, with the full support of couple of other assholes behind him.
This proceeded and he actually hit the guy with his elbow in the face several times and when the guy told him to knock it off he just kept going. I spent the next two songs dodging this guy’s elbow and when he finally hit me with it, fueled by the baffling aggravation of the evening’s proceedings, I grabbed him a second time and said this: “Motherfucker they will drag me out of here in handcuffs before that fucking arm hits my face again!!” –
He moves over a couple of feet, but he’s right back at it doing it to somebody else, so when they move he find himself right next to me once more, and god help us if Mr. White plays a song this dude knows because then the screaming and elbow flying really takes off.
Here I am, 10 feet from Jack White, my hero, actually hoping that he doesn’t play any familiar songs because of this and the two dudes behind us let the guy know that I start any shit that its gonna the three of them against me.
Fuck this – this isn’t worth it – I came here to enjoy this, so I surrendered my up close position to retreat to the back, where I discover it was roomy, and I could actually hear and see better. I hadn’t been in my new comfortable space for one entire song before he declares that they are gonna take a short break – What? – A short break? After all this waiting? – Again I hadn’t seen SNL so I wasn’t privy to his plan.

Female Set – 

Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground (White Stripes song)
Missing Pieces
Sixteen Saltines
Hotel Yorba (White Stripes song)
Love Interruption
Weep Themselves to Sleep
You Know That I Know
Freedom At 21
Hypocritical Kiss
I’m Slowly Turning Into You (White Stripes song)

I go out to the patio for a welcome sit-down and a smoke, still pretty furious, but pretty jacked about how good the set was, but still a bit quiet with new songs that I don’t know -and sure that’s what we are here for.

I go the bathroom and when I come out I see Jack White – he points to the Van Halen belt-buckle I’m wearing, he doesn’t give me the nod or even a smile, but still a clear acknowledgment of approval , hey enough for me, then he starts talking to John C. Reilly as Bill Murray comes walking up to them. Bill Murray sightings at SXSW are becoming less rare these days and it seems he shows up every year and gives everyone a good story to tell.

Surreal just the same – I’m standing behind this but I’m not gonna approach anybody – I see David Fricke from Rolling Stone Magazine, one of the world’s authorities on music walking up with rock royalty, Scott Asheton, the drummer for the Stooges. He I speak with and he’s actually happy for the recognition and we have a nice talk. I notice that Jack has left, and Fricke knows Reilly and Murray, so we sorta combine our conversations.
I’m getting a kick out of this when suddenly, Jack returns from behind us, now dressed in all black, is all business and strides back to the stage with an urgency that was downright scary (and totally awesome) – He came to play, and this time he brought an all male backing group with him, grabbed his custom guitar and tore right into the Stripes’ My Doorbell.

 

Talking to Fricke paid off cause now the four of us are heading side-stage and I can’t fucking believe what’s happening. He fires up my favorite song, Hello Operator like he’s picking a fight in an alley – just ferocious – and it only builds from there. It was like I wrote the set-list – what followed was a mind-boggling career spanning set that included songs from every entity practically that he has been a part of, I was beside myself. It was so strange to hear these White Stripes songs with a full-band and they sounded massive.

This went from being one of the most aggravating evenings ever, to like seriously one of the best nights of my life – everyone felt it, strangers in disbelief were talking to me and each other about how this was like the greatest thing they had ever seen.
How does he take it farther? – I know that’s like the cool indie-rock thing to do to ignore your hit song if you have one, but Jack White is not concerned with that bullshit, but it still seemed a little out of the question if he would do Seven Nation Army –
He starts the song with a slight different instrumentation but when it starts to build and everyone starts to recognize it, as dramatic as it sounds it created a unification of everyone actually singing the bass riff that lifted me off the ground. He walks to the outdoor window and leads the thousands that had gathered outside in a sing-along that you could hear inside even over the amps –

Suddenly hot bartenders are Coyote Ugly-ing their way on top of the bar, even Bill Murray gets in on the action and is dancing on top of the bar, the whole place just shook and when he led us through the sing-along I’m not ashamed to tell you that I was actually crying.
It was a beautiful moment, and a crescendo to a magical evening that I’m still in disbelief that I was fortunate to witness.
To end the set, he cooled the crowd off with another sing-along – the perfect coda of Leadbelly‘s Goodnight Irene – the perfect touch of class to a stupefying set of raw power – Strangers were hugging me and everyone else in gratitude and in song.
An absolute perfect moment – I grew an inch taller.

Male Set – 

My Doorbell (White Stripes song)
Hello Operator (White Stripes song)
I Cut Like A Buffalo (Dead Weather song)
Two Against One (Rome song)
The Hardest Button to Button (White Stripes song)
Steady, As She Goes (The Raconteurs song)
Top Yourself (The Raconteurs song)
Ball and Biscuit (White Stripes song)
Seven Nation Army (White Stripes song)
Goodnight Irene (Leadbelly cover)

As I exited the venue stunned, one of the security guards saw me and grabbed me and said: “Oh my gawd, you finally made it in, we saw you passing back and forth for three hours, congratulations mate!” (he was British) –

SXSW 2012: MTVu Woodie Awards, Girl Talk Rocks Nike + Tenacious D & more

Ok, so after just a few hours sleep, it was time to get back out there. This is how it goes during SXSW – no sleep, steady diet of booze and BBQ, few showers, lots of walking and impulsive behavior.
First thing on the agenda was taking Matt to work but he had some errands he needed me to take him on first, so I thought we would grab lunch as well. Matt is all about the Thai food and I wanted to show some gratitude for his hospitality.
Over lunch he completely fucked my head up by dropping some personal bombs on me that were nuclear. I left there stunned after dropping him off and headed on take on the day –

Day 2 – March 15th

So after a few meetings and other loose ends I went over to the site where they were holding this year’s MTVu Woodie Awards –
I went last year, and it was a total red-carpet, star-studded affair with big names like the Foo Fighters etc. This year was going to be a little different as it was going to be outdoors and preceded by a little mini-festival called the Woodie Fest that was open to the public.
Not as elite and guarded as last year seemed more like the Grammys, so I was happy that it was going to be a more relaxed fair.
I get over there first for Woodie Fest to see ASAP Rocky –

 

 

It really seems like hip-hop mixtapes are the new indie-rock – Because the only press that picks up on them are the blogosphere and its readership is made up of usually white, 30-something nerdy obsessives – and at the Hip-Hop shows I saw this week that’s what made up mostly its entire audience – those people think that being in on something first is currency and since street lingo seems to change weekly, being on the ground floor of breaking hip-hop artists is tailor-made for this demographic. ASAP Rocky is perfect example of this, and to a lesser extent the act that followed – Machine Gun Kelly

 

Not bad but def more hype than skill –

The entire environment surrounding this event is drenched in douchebaggery – Their are amazing hot girls every where I look, but its those really hot girls that seem to date the worst dudes, with shitty tattoos – The obnoxious hipster set in colorful clothing, the fratty drunken shirtless dudes and their female counterparts, and I – the lone wolf walking alone amongst them in an hopelessly corporate parade of absurd proportions.
Who am I to complain? They really knew how to pander to this crowd – My wristband came with attached drink tickets – far too many for one person, and for THIS one person – Their were endless “lounges” hosted by a global entity –
For example, one could stroll along and visit the Reeses Lounge and help themselves to an endless supply of chocolate –
Go next door for the free BBQ and booze, and then walk down to the Good Humor booth for free dessert –

All of this and now the awards show is beginning that is hosted by one of those Jersey Shore dudes –
Again, who am I to complain? The girls are hot and everything in site is free, but their is a looming feeling that I completely do not belong here.
After some dubious awards are given to people that I have never heard of or have no interest in, my mood does turn cheery (free beer & BBQ does that to a man) with the anticipation of seeing Santigold –

 

She only did two numbers, but I think she is fantastic and I’m really looking forward to her show at the Spin Party tomorrow.
The actor/comedian dude Donald Glover from that show Community has a band called Childish Gambino that I saw at Fun Fun Fun Fest the last time I was in Austin last Fall, that were actually really good and they were supposed to perform next but apparently Glover fractured his foot and they had to cancel.
Instead we got another white-mediocre-over-hyped rapper,Mac Miller, who also won a bunch of these silly awards (if only contrivity and manufactured good were rewarded….wait…they are!)

 

Last but not least was probably the most unnecessary – They saved the biggest clown shoe for last, and is their really anybody with a more punchable face than Steve Aoki? – The lameness of his grand entrance of streaming above the crowd in an inflatable raft was completely lost on everyone here – He might as well of just had his limo parked onstage –

And for the next 20 mins or so he did his Aoki thing with huge gestures and insufferable mixes while Lil Jon and some dude in a colorful jacket he will one day regret wearing on television, pandered to the crowd as if they were selling hot dogs at a ball game.
I at least found some like-minded people as we had a mini-pot going guessing the amount Mr. Aoki was paid for 20 mins of his services for this thing – We dropped it as it was too depressing to think about.

Suddenly, a giant cake is produced for reasons that are unclear, I don’t know if or whose birthday it was or the occasion, but it did also produce perhaps one of the most irritating photos I’ve ever seen that makes my case solid –

 

However, I am so super happy to report that seconds after this little look at what a walking party I am pose – fortune smiled down on us all as Aoki lost his footing and fell off the stage with cake in tow, head-first as he actually pie-to-the-face himself. He was not injured so I can make fun of him. A fitting end to a super cheesy event.

So now I head from there over to this little joint called Haven, to see the mighty Tenacious D – Oddly enough, the only other time I have ever seen them live (and had not a clue who they were at the time like most people) was also here at SXSW, 12 freaking years ago.
I remember we went to see the Delta 72 and Modest Mouse, and after the Mouse had played, suddenly these two fat dudes come out and all 5k people at Austin Music Hall started freaking out and knew who these guys were (except us) – This was a bit before Jack Black’s film career took off.
I’m sorry to say that I missed openers Riverboat Gamblers – One of the best live bands you will ever see – Their singer Mike is an old friend and we used to work at the same record store several lifetimes ago.
But out comes the D and the place explodes –

 

Now, as funny and entertaining I find Jack Black and I do find some of their songs fun, I don’t count myself as a member of the tribe. That over-the-top sorta comedy has never done it for me – I have never found Jim Carrey or Will Ferrel funny in the least, though I’m sure they are both really funny men. They do it in a way that can entertain me for a bit, but its like being at a GWAR show, I can get excited, but after having blood squirted on me the 4th time, I’m usually over it.

I was scheduled to meet up with some suits after this for some drinks and where we were meeting caused me to pass by the Girl Talk party. I honestly also don’t give a fuck about Girl Talk or his annoying fanbase, but that motherfucker does throw one hell of a party, and I figured at SXSW it would probably be worth checking out. I also know that every person under 25 in a 10 mile radius would be trying to get in, and when I walked by the line, that was certainly confirmed.

 

I meet with the corporate folks and as we are about to wrap, I mentioned something about the ridiculous line at Girl Talk, (not realizing that I was talking to the sponsors of the event) cause they mentioned they were heading over there. That’s when they told me they were sponsors and asked me if I wanted to join them. Ok sure –

This is the essence of this conference – one minute I’m having drinks discussing sponsorship opportunities, the next I’m in a hollowed out Spaghetti Warehouse watching an unfathomably popular mash-up DJ, turning the place out like its Mardi Gras/NYE/4th of July combined, with free booze, covered in confetti, with the room all losing their shit.

 

Stay tuned for Day 3!!

Photos –

Roy Turner
Zachary Strain
Nate “Igor” Smith
Adam Sweeney
Karla Esquivel
John Davisson

SXSW 2012: Fiona Apple, The Sword meet Anthony Bourdain & more

I will give you the most basic of rundowns: SXSW is a 3 week festival covering Interactive Media – Film and Music with a entire week dedicated to each field, some usually overlapping – that takes place in Austin, TX in March – that completely takes over the town a la Mardi Gras that falls during Spring Break, that will showcase thousands of bands attended by 10s of thousands of registrants.
ok? OK –

Day 1 – March 14th

I learned alot last year about throwing a showcase – I learned alot about what to do and what NOT to do. For all the success and press we got out of that little shindig last year, clearly ALOT of mistakes were made

I had people coming up to me the entire festival asking me if I was “that dude that threw that boxing ring thing last year” constantly – Easily 10x as many people that were actually there – That’s something that I’m very proud of – I wanted to do something different – Something people would remember and knowing that I accomplished that makes me happy –

After that I ran over to Stubb’s to try to catch Fiona Apple. I’ve never seen her like most people, due to her neurosis that keeps her from touring, or even speaking properly has eluded most people from seeing her perform.  I get a hero’s welcome when I go to Stubb’s, so thankfully their was no line or any other indignity suffered (I would save that for the rest of the week) – I get in and go right up to the side of the stage that my friends and kind staff of Stubb’s afforded me.

Very grateful too, as like I said, not only had I not ever seen her, this was one of the most anticipated shows of the festival with a total shitshow outside trying to get in. She has another show tomorrow but this was her first show outside of Los Angeles in five years and would be playing new music for the first time in over seven (though I did hear later that at the second show she added her cover of Across the Universe)
I was most certainly looking forward to hearing some new tunes, but since I’ve never got to see any of her material live before I was hoping to hear a few tracks off her 2nd LP When The Pawn – It holds a special place for me as it always transports me back to a special time.
I got my wish and I got in early, it was almost like she was making up for not touring that record as the first four songs were from that LP.She still looks really good, and she sounded good too, but at times her intensity just over rode everything and she would shout the verses or change them up completely to account for her sudden thrusts of anger. I had always wondered how legit all this was, cause admittedly it can be a  bit much. Like how much of this is manufactured and I gotta tell you that being this close to it, made me a believer.
I’m not saying that it wasn’t ridiculous that she required two handlers to get her on and off stage – who she kept looking over to for approval/reassurance. Or how they would have to come out and remind her to drink the tea on her piano, or when she would look lost to offer her a towel. It was all a bit much, but her elusiveness has reached such legendary heights over the years that it was thrill just to even see her, let alone this close and see her perform. The new songs were really good too.
Setlist: Fast as You Can
On the Bound
Paper Bag
A Mistake
Anything We Want (New Song)
Valentine (New Song)
Sleep to Dream
Extraordinary Machine
Every Single Night (New Song)
Carrion
Criminal

After she finished, I stuck around to see Sharon Van Etten, another songstress that I was recently turned on to. Her stuff was a little quiet for the cavernous Stubb’s as well as first day excitement, but she got a great reception from the crowd and I thought she sounded great.

After that, I walked around Stubb’s to meet up with my friend Lena – A talented artist and a total babe – She’s a great writer and has a new musical project that she will be debuting later this year – you can check that out here –

We talked a caught up a bit but then she was leaving so I grabbed another beer and while waiting for Dan Deacon to start his set.
Though I am not even remotely Deacon’s demographic – nerdy-teenage-smartass hipsters in bright clothing – He has always been entertaining in the few times I’ve seen him perform.
Deacon is also likable for his slacker appearance – He’s overweight, balding and the last person you would think could lead 2k people in a dance freak-out, so his improbability gives him that underdog factor.
However he is also from D.C./Maryland and has that zero bullshit quality as well – Without being dickish he exchanged words with the stage hands that were growing impatient with his setup time and his equipment failure. At one point he even said into the mic, “We got it, and you don’t need to speak to us like we are children” – later for which he apologized on the mic for and even lead the crowd to show appreciation for the crew who I think took it as sarcasm but it still seemed genuine to me.

Its unclear to me exactly what Deacon is performing, as it seems like he just hitting a bunch of sound effect with a propulsive dance looped beat. This time he had a full band with him, but other than Maestro, I’m not sure what his contributions actually are.
Known for snarky impromptu, he then started a parlor game among the 2k in attendance and created a giant dance circle while he was giving direction via a megaphone. Good times –
And now for something totally different, I left there to go over to the building that used to be called Emo’s to see the Sword. A local Austin band that has reached global success, especially with a high-[profile tour as the opening slot for Metallica recently.
Trickykid alumni Never Got Caught along with Clutch toured with them as well,so I’ve gotten friendly with them over the years as well as they have become one of my favorite bands. So I was excited when they invited me over to their showcase.
I get there, and suddenly I see a familiar face onstage while they are getting setup – Their is a camera crew filming this for a show and its host – Anthony Bourdain who’s career is a constant reference at my mother and sister’s homes. I even took them to see him on his tour last year.
The guys in the Sword were so busy with all of this, I didn’t even have the chance to really even let them know that I was here, or express my gratitude for their invitation.
In what seemed like a millenia to get properly sound-checked, the bass player knew he was holding up the party, and finally threw his hands up after shouts of “Goddamn, it doesn’t have to be perfect” started emitting from the crowd- and got the show started.

They were fucking deadly as always and they played like 8 new songs. The newer stuff sounded more straight up rock which is direction that I’m happy that they are increasingly headed in. Starting with Black Sabbath’s Children of the Grave and ending with their hit Freya that’s also become a staple of Guitar Hero – with all new stuff in between.Ok, wanna get even heavier? – Where could this night take us now, How about across the street where Corrosion of Conformity were playing a dive bar for $5.00? – Perfect.

A brief history lesson of C.O.C. – For the first ten years of their existence their were a three-piece (sometimes four) punk juggernaut with a blistering sound and a downright frightening image. They were ones of the bands when you were younger that you actually feared.
In the early 1990’s they acquired new member Pepper Keenan, who not only took over on vocals but on the later albums, his taste/persona seemed to take over the would band. His first record with them, Blind turned them into a straight up Heavy Metal band and then with the next three (and finally commercial success) they became this southern fried, blues-y Pantera-ish entity that made them completely unrecognizable from the former years, especially after drummer Reed Mullin left the band.
For most people this was their first time hearing the band and thought they were like this new Southern Rock band, which you can imagine completely alienated, their former punk rock faithful.
If I was being truthful, even though the purest will condemn this, when I want to listen to C.O.C. its those three southern rock albums I like the best, and probably haven’t purposely listened to those early records since I first heard them as a kid.
Well for this tour, Pepper Keenan is absent, (actually in the band Down with Pantera member Phil Anselmo) – Reed Mullin is back, C.O.C. are once again a three piece, just released a new album that’s a complete return to its punk rock roots and this tour they will be playing that stuff and only that stuff to celebrate its full-circle return.

Though the sound in this place is dismal, they still kicked severe ass – Though I totally miss Pepper, I can’t deny that Mike Dean is actually better suited as a front man than him. He’s more engaging, more menacing, and has the between song banter down flat, something that Keenan has always suffered with. I saw the show in Dallas a few days prior and both of these shows were just brutal and way exceeded my expectations.Setlist:

Bottom Feeder
Psychic Vampire
Loss for Words
Vote With a Bullet
Mad World
Consumed
Seven Days
Your Tomorrow
The Doom
The Snake Has No Head
The Moneychangers
Deliverance
Rat City
Holier
Hungry Child
Leeches
Technocracy

What else is left? How much further can this night go? – Now I had to go get my car and head over to Lustre Pearl (which was easier said than done) to end this first night with Mobb Deep.


I was also their to meet up with my buddy Matt, who I would be staying with on this trip. My man loves that gangster shit, and now that it was almost 2am and we hadn’t seen each other in a year, I got a drunken hero’s welcome haha.We left there to get some late-night drive thru before heading to his place. I hadn’t seen his new place since he moved in and their I was introduced to his roommates’ sister and her boyfriend as well as the couch I would be living on for the next week.Stay tuned for more…..Photos –

Roy Turner
Eric Danton
Chris Ellis

Fun Fun Fun Fest 2011 w/ Slayer, Public Enemy & More (Nov/2011)

Ok so after an incredibly busy last few months, I was now headed back down to Austin for the Fun Fun Fun Fest. These always look totally awesome and have such an insane and random lineup and yet I’d never been to one until now. The lineups always looked good but there was always something in the way etc. But with the promise of Public Enemy, Henry Rollins, Kool Keith, and Slayer all in one weekend, I was ready for action.

2011 Fun Fun Fun Fest – Nov 4th-6th – Auditorium Shores – Austin, TX

Erin has a house in Austin and actually claims Austin as home when asked and she’s always excited about going down there when we do, so the drive down was actually really fun. Her having a house down there makes it super easy and I was looking forward to a great weekend.

Nov 4th

I get in the guest line and get our wristbands and to my surprise the guy behind the desk hands me a shitload of free drink tickets. He’s wearing a Boston Red Sox hat and says that we met at a Never Got Caught/Clutch show a few years ago. Thanks man!

It was after 7pm before we even got there but the festival had started at noon – the only act I wanted to see that was left was Public Enemy.
Last month, I was at the All Tomorrow’s Parties event in Asbury Park where we saw PE put on one of the best shows of the year and threatened to steal the entire festival.
So needless to say I would have already been looking forward to the show but after what we saw just a few weeks ago, the anticipation was even higher.

They have the stages set up in pairs right next to each other, so that the minute one stage stops, the next one can begin immediately so its continuous non-stop music – one of the better ideas that the Warped Tour has brought to the table.

We were actually standing directly behind the two stages watching Four Tet do his thing –

 

 

We were actually pinned between this trailer that was the dressing room and the back of the stage when a few things of mention happened:

One –  was that though we really enjoyed PE in New Jersey, one thing was that the soundcheck was excruciating – It went on for almost as long as their set and was led by what I can only imagine is some relative of Chuck D’s that he needed to give a job to. This older, extremely over-bearing man with zero time-management skills who’s idea of getting the crowd ready was to scream “AAAAHIGHT??” – About one million times.
Well while we are watching Four Tet, sadly for him the soundboard was to his right while PE and annoying stage mgr were soundchecking to his left.
PE’s stage mgr was actually shouting orders to the soundman at the board thru Four Tet while he was performing on stage!
I couldn’t believe it – Four Tet, a super nice guy would occasionally (and incredulously) shoot a look over at PE’s stage mgr with a confused smile as if to say:  “Can you not see that I’m actually in the middle of my set right now dude?”.

Two – While we are watching this, again its a tight squeeze and only one person can pass between the back of the stage and the dressing room & see that Chuck D was squeezing his way through.

Three – So after Four Tet wraps and again so that the music can be seamless PE is about to start and we are now standing on the side of the stage a mere feet from where they will be performing, when suddenly the entire stage/backstage area is cleared as if the President is coming to watch PE (maybe he was? – I could see that) – Instead it wasn’t the President, it was actor Ryan Gosling and company. Sadly, their will be much more about him as this post progresses.

Public Enemy

Ok so now we are kinda half in the photo pit and half in the crowd and let met tell you something, Austin is passionate about their politics and they are equally passionate about their Hip-Hop and now here were the kings of the game ready to get down. Their was nearly a mini-riot before they even took the stage and when they hit all fucking hell broke loose.

I didn’t know if they were gonna stick to what they have been doing this year which is all of Fear of a Black Planet but the show certainly started out that way.
The effect was briefly transformational, Chuck brought the crowd back into the present by referencing and praising the nationwide “Occupy” movement. Flavor Flav followed that by thanking the crowd for making him the biggest reality television star ever. Thud.
In effect completely loosing all of the momentum that the first three jams had whipped everyone up in.
At one point he brought his teenage Godson up there who he commanded to freestyle rap on the spot – It appeared that Flav might have only met this kid once before and it was probably earlier today and to please his famous Godfather he might have mentioned that he “rapped”. The fear on this poor kid’s face that Flav was throwing his teenage ass to the wolves, was almost as cringe-inducing as the one “rap” the kid actually made which was:

“I came to the fest to have fun, because I’m Flavor Flav’s Godson”

The crowd moaned but clearly felt for this kid –

In spite of this and other Flav shenanigans, the set was not only genuine but it also extended the PE political mythos further into the group’s third decade.
Sending everyone home happy with the belief that the hit parade they’d just seen was part of something far more meaningful. Whether it was that or not was almost entirely immaterial. Friday’s headlining spot was built on the idea of Public Enemy as a relevant and provocative cultural constant, and if you went into the night holding that stock you certainly were not’t in selling mode at its close. In that view as well as most others, it was a success.

Setlist –

Contract On The World Love Jam
Welcome To The Terrordome
B Side Wins Again
911 Is A Joke
Meet The G That Killed Me
Show Em Watcha Got
Bring The Noise
Don’t Believe The Hype
Cold Lampin’ With Flavor
Can’t Truss It
Night Of The Living Baseheads
He Got Game/Anti-Negro Machine
Burn Hollywood Burn
Black Is Back
Timebomb
Shut Em Down
Rebel Without A Pause
Fight The Power

Epilogue – Now during this, the other main attraction (and perhaps for some the main reason for coming) was that Danzig was staging something of a career retrospective and even more importantly something of the closest you will get to a Misfits reunion by including a set of Misfits songs to be performed with famed Misfits’s guitarist Doyle Von Frankenstein.
I mention this because sadly this festival will be remembered mostly for Danzig’s complete and total meltdown (in a history of his meltdowns) and besides Ryan Gosling, this is all everybody talked about for the rest of the festival. Apparently he had made some really weird demands involving soup that even when they were met didn’t prevent the show from melting down and the Misfits portion never happening. Lots of soup jokes followed the rest of the weekend.

You can read festival organizer Graham account of the situation here –

Now let me say this – Even if PE weren’t playing I would have skipped this – As completely blasphemous as this will sound, I do not, nor have I ever cared even an ounce about anything to do with Glen Danzig, not even for a second. I have never owned a Misfits record, nor do I care to, I couldn’t even tell you the names of any of their songs if Metallica hadn’t covered several of them. That is how completely uncool and unpunk I am and what a total square I am, and I could give two shits who knows it.
However, I do know that the band holds great importance to many many people, and I’m sure it was more than one person’s decision to come based upon this appearance and to have Danzig shit all over it is really lame and unfair to them.

After-show –

Kool Keith – Empire Automotive

One of the cool things about this fest too is much like the ACL Fest the organizers take advantage that Austin is the live music capital of the world and host after shows all over the city. I love Kool Keith and was glad he was booked to do his own late-night weirdness in his own setting, instead of on a big stage in the middle of the day. And let me tell you something, this show couldn’t have been any weirder even for him.
Since we had only seen really one act we were still roaring to go, and even if I was tired I would have made the effort to see Kool Keith.
So much weirdness, where do I begin? First of all it was weird/typically Austin cool that he was playing in an auto body shop.
Secondly, when we got there which was around 10:30pm he wasn’t going on for like three hours haha.
I had wanted to see Trash Talk but they had just finished and when I asked the merch guy who was coming on before Keith, he turned into this caricature of a human spouting slang so cartoonish I thought I was being Punk’d.
So for three hours we sat in this body shop waiting for the weirdest (and arguably the most talented) MC of all time to come on. During which time we had beer spilled on us which seemed like a half a dozen times, but Erin and I were actually in good talks and good spirits.
Then finally Kool Keith took the stage –

 

 

Let me tell you something, I’ve seen him perform on every tour since the first Dr. Octagon LP and so I have seen some really brown shows of his, but this one takes the proverbial shit cake. I have seen him literally kill onstage before (Coachella 2004) and I’ve seen him start selling cdrs from his back pocket in the middle of the show (Dallas 2005) to many other examples (and we had also just seen him at the Ultramagnetic MCs reunion in Asbury Park) but this time he was downright scary, but no less entertaining and funny, until he wasn’t.
He had Kutmaster Kurt DJ’n and he came out as usual, but then it was a mess from there on out. Kurt would just play something, Keith would rap a known song over it, and then if he didn’t feel like finishing it, he would just abandon it, leaving Kurt to catch up. This has value as theirs probably not a rapper alive that can effortlessly freestyle like that and just move and shift at will. On the other hand its execution feels like the ramblings of an insane homeless man.
We enjoyed some of it, when he was doing stuff like Get off my elevator and alot of the Dr. Doom tracks – but what we were enjoying more was watching people’s reactions and then watching them leave.
Not just because of the late hour, by the time he got to the real dirty stuff like Sex Style and Girl let me touch you there people were dropping like flies.
It seemed to have no rhyme or reason or no end. We even saw the guys from Workaholics walk out shaking their heads, but we stayed till the end.

Nov 5th

Finally get parked and get inside to start the day and the first thing we see is a wrestling ring set up right in the middle of the field with a match in full swing taking place.

Anarchy Championship Wrestling

That was something else I was loving about this festival was it kind of had a carny sleaze to it – It wasn’t glossed up like Lollapalooza, and the randomness of having wrestling and other events really worked. Not to mention, I’m a huge fan of wrestling –

 

The action was sloppy of course but so much fun, and it was great that you knew that you were surrounded by people that were probably being exposed to wrestling in this capacity for the first (and some surely the last) time. While Erin was taking pics of the action suddenly this dude walks up to me who is dressed like Rayden from the fucking Mortal Kombat game and it standing oddly and very close to my face. Because of the wind and dust, the place was over run with dustdevils and for which the hipsters were remedying themselves with by wearing fashionable bandannas around their faces like they were about to hold up a bank in the Old West. Rayden was wearing this obscuring his face and his gay ass Rayden hat – when he pulls his bankrobber gear down and sporting a shit eating grin to my reaction of “Who the fuck are you pal?” look on my face to reveal that it was my old pal Justin – for which if you knew him this was par for the course.
Good times –
This was just the start of The Day of Running into Musicians from Dallas Day – This was followed by as were walking over to the backstage area, we were perusing the wares that were for sale in the local villagers market they had setup and I desperately needed a pair of sunglasses, when we ran into Mike Graff and Peter Schmidt, two accomplished musicians from Dallas.
Graff was the guitarist for the greatest band that you have never heard, Course of Empire – seriously one of the best bands ever – that had a major label deal and the label had no idea what to do with them and they faded into obscurity.
Schmidt was in Funland with drummer Will Johnson that went on to become Centro-Matic and Clark Vogeler is now the guitarist for the Toadies.
I practically worshiped Graff in high school and we have had a great rapport for 20 years so it was really good to see him and catch up.
Speaking of the Toadies, right after this we ran into my buddy Todd who sings and also plays guitar in that band and had a good laugh as always.
Later that night we ran into and had a great laugh with the always funny and interesting, Wayne Coyne.Ryan GoslingAs if I give two shits, I wouldn’t be accurately describing the experience of the festival if I didn’t mention the mania over Ryan Gosling. I mentioned earlier about how we was responsible for us having to leave the backstage area of the Public Enemy to make room for his royal douchyness. The way that we exchange information is so insane these days that by Day 2 of the festival their was a Tumbler account documenting his every move at the festival.The minute we got backstage the first thing we see is Gosling and company being followed by a film crew that we would later learn was Austin filmmaker Terrence Malick shooting some candid footage of Gosling for an upcoming project –

 Unbeknown to me at the time, but the girl next to him (looking like the constant filming is giving her a migraine) is Roony Mara – who went on to play Lisbeth Salander in the English adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – I just thought she was just some super babe worthy of Gosling’s status. I would actually meet her at this same spot four months later unexpectedly during SXSW – .

Ok movie stars and super babes aside, what caught my attention was out of the corner of my eye I spot true royalty. I was having a conversation with Franki Chan while Erin was in the bathroom when I spot Joe Lally.
I knew that our tardiness had all but caused us to miss his set, but I had to ask him anyway – so I approached and he confirmed that I had indeed missed it for which I started cursing the sky and we had a good laugh and a nice talk. Joe is one of the coolest ever.

Wugazi

Ok so when we ran into Joe Lally, I just assumed that he was on his way to see this thing called Wugazi, an apparent mash-up of Fugazi songs and the raps of the Wu-Tang Clan, who were actually billed higher than Joe Lally, a member of Fugazi himself. Not that I thought Joe would have any interest in this but I joked with him that it would probably make him look like a dickhead if he didn’t at least have a small peek and then I teased him about his curiosity.
He seemed to only have heard of it and knew that they were playing but convinced me he had really no idea that they were about to go on 15 feet away.
So we walk over there, where we stayed all of about 3 mins and Joe left before I did – the picture below should do the talking as to why –

 

 

This is something that could only exist today – two extremely white, trust fund looking douche bags, who are able to convince the blogosphere that their idea is “genius” without ever having to prove how solid their work is and suddenly the cool factor gets them billed higher than an actual member of Fugazi. Unacceptable – their work was not solid and the samples they used were weak and the whole thing looked really embarrassing.

Donald Glover

Another attraction of this increasingly weird festival is they also had a tent dedicated to name comedy acts. All I’ve been hearing this year is about Donald Glover as the heir to the throne. That throne being the lineage of Foxx, Cosby, Pryor, Murphy, Rock, Chapelle – and I’m a committed fan of all of these heavyweights so I was very curious and thought it would be fun so we went over to check it out. I knew that his guy also has a rap group that was gonna be performing later so I was a bit leery of him.

 

 

The assumption is that fans of one medium think the other is unwatchable, or the historical pattern is that the artist’s talent resides heavily in one camp and the other “experiment” is hard to watch for everyone. What sets Glover apart is the fact that he is still an unproven fresh face in many respects, and that seems to give him limitless ambition. It’s clear that he takes both sides of his career very seriously. Serious dedication to comedy gives him a reputation as a very silly individual, which eventually ends up as defensive lyrics in his songs about how “hard”’ he is as a rapper. It’s a fine and difficult line that Glover treads sometime skillfully, to varying degrees of success. Seeing him perform for 30 mins in a tent in the middle of the day doesn’t even remotely make me an expert, but I think its fair to say, to that though I appreciate his new school attitude and ways of doing things, his material just isn’t that solid and it feels like it will date it to be trend happening now and overall his comedy seems a little too hip for me.

Dan Deacon

Though I’ve seen Dan Deacon numerous times and somewhat enjoyed it, the only reason we were over here to see this was because:
a) Their wasn’t anything else going on at the moment that we cared about
b) This stage is closest to the backstage refreshments and couches.
c) The act that we did wanna see was going on after him.

I was talking about this the other day, and finally figured something out – Among the colorfully dressed hipster types and their ironic behavior and painfully white guys using hip-hop slang and unnecessary beards, the one thing they are trying to achieve the most is a “moment” – That “moment” can only come when someone gives them a reason for everyone to jump up and down in unison in what looks like a controlled riot – that is what they are after, and even if they band SUCKS, and trust me, most of them do – as long as they are having the “moment” that will make a great pic for the social networks of choice they are happy.
Be it at a Girl Talk show, or Matt and Kim – as long as their cinematically jumping, they are happy.

 

 

This is the only way to fully explain the popularity of someone like Dan Deacon – Here is a guy that is fat, bald, really ugly and dresses like he’s autistic – and doesn’t sing or even play an instrument as far as I can tell – just sets up some gadgets on a table with loops from a Casio keyboard and blasts them though a speaker and that’s the show. But it gives everyone a reason to jump and have the moment and the potential of chaos is enough to attract people to watch and incite it themselves.
To make it even sexier, Deacon apparently doesn’t like stages to make it even more “I’m on your level,” , unconventional and pushes the potential for mayhem even higher – so while we were actually standing on stage – Deacon was setting up his table right on the other side of the barricadeThe sound for his set was atrocious, and you could tell it was killing him. And by extension, it killed me. He had the chance to get the crowd going on a few occasions, but overall a complete waste of time, other than it gave us a chance to actually stand on stage and get a great view. I looked to my right and their was fucking Gosling, dude was everywhere.

Kool Keith (substituting for Rakim)

Ok so we got word an hour or so ago that unfortunately Rakim, one of the acts I was most looking forward to seeing, had broken his foot and wasn’t going to be performing today. That sucks for all involved but holy shit as a replacement since he was in town (see above) – its Kool Keith to the rescue!

 

 

I had even remotely recovered from the weirdness of show last night, and seeing him in the middle of the day was as bizarre as he is but we were ready for more (I think) – but I don’t think he was ready for much more than either a nap or more drugs. Same as last night, Kurt just basically solo’d on the turntables and Keith would just rap a few bars of whatever song came into his head. Being one of the most, if not the most prolific rapper of all time, these lines could come from any of the staggering 50+ albums he’s released over the past 20 years. We got a bit of East West Hustlers and Blue Flowers that we didn’t get last night, but the only fully cohesive song he did at both shows was the Ultramagnetic Mc’s staple Poppa Large.
Right after he performed we ran into my buddy Igor, who took most of the pictures on this blog entry. He’s obviously a photographer and was running from stage to stage, so we only hung for a sec, but since he doesn’t drink he did give me his drink tickets. Thanks buddy.

Childish Gambino

Ok so as mentioned earlier, we had seen Donald Glover’s comedy set and now it was time for his rap act. For a guy who, a year ago, was mostly known—if at all—as part of the ensemble of a low-rated sitcom Community, the crowd hyped to see Gambino was staggering.

There are a couple reasons for it. Donald Glover, is an Internet phenomenon, propelled by social media savvy and a non-stop work ethic that has him crossing into many different worlds online.

 

 

We were back in that same position we have been last night squeezed behind the stage and dressing rooms where we met Chuck D. All in all is was actually pretty good, I went into pretty skeptical and I didn’t leave thinking they were any more legit than I did before I saw them, but the musicianship of the band was solid and the execution of the whole show was actually quite decent and enjoyable.

Lykke Li

Making the most of the day since we really only saw once act and taking advantage of our Access passes, we then ran through the backstage thoroughfare up to the side of the stage to see Lykke Li who I am a huge fan of.
More than anyone else we saw over the weekend, her use of visuals (monochrome outfits, thick smoke, billowing curtains and percussion as theater) to enhance her performance really showed forethought and planning—

 

 

Li also transformed Dance Dance Dance from debut album Youth Novels into an awesome drumstick battle with a bandmate, which the crowd ate up. It was a rare moment that one noticed the band, who generally stood back and stayed far out of Ms. Li’s spotlight. As the show pulled into the closing with hit Little Bit,it was obvious some numbers had been cut due to the late start—most notably Love Out Of Lust, which was sorely missed.
Li has such a distinct mix of beauty, showmanship and style. I’ve seen her a half a dozen times before and though you may not be able to tell from the above picture how much she tries to downplay her beauty, always wearing these long shapeless over-size robes, but seriously is their any real chance of hiding of freaking ridiculously hot she is? – One of my fave shows of the whole weekend.

The Damned

If only Danzig had stuck around to take notes while British Punk band The Damned showed them how to command a stage and address their audience. Frontman Dave Vanian was dressed to impress with slicked hair, shades, and leather gloves to go with his polished duds. The band sounded amazing, and even the young ones in the crowd were pulled in for the set. The music was great, and the commentary was too, with Dave and Captain Sensible poking ruthless fun at Danzig and his soup.

 

To drive home the “how uncool I am” narrative from before, I can’t think of this band without thinking about this: Summer of 1998 I had my first love – she was (and I’m sure probably still is) miles ahead of me in everything. She was a punk rawker into all the perverse cool shit, while my soundtrack that summer consisted of a steady diet of shit no one will ever think is cool like King’s X, 311, and Prince during his depressed phase. She was super into the Damned and the fact that they were true English punks and not mainstream in America like the Sex Pistols made it all the sexier.
We made a pilgrimage to legendary indie-record store Bill’s in Dallas where he charged her an exuberant amount of money for this one record, that some fat friend of hers stole that she wanted to replace. On the way home we also realized amid her excitement for getting the record that he never gave her back her change, in effectively doubling the price of the record! – We joked that we should have taken advantage of Bill’s homosexuality and had me purchase the record instead. I of course had never even heard of this band before that day which later soon contributed to her exit. I used to joke when people would ask me why we broke up I would reply “cause I have bad taste, and I don’t know anything about Crass” ( that and course my bad hygiene,which is a contradiction in terms if you think about it) – But hey, I didn’t know anything about her other favorite band, Ween, either and look how THAT turned out – Hang in there kids.

Major Lazer

….and then we walk just a few yards over from something tried and true to something new and fun, but really, really stupid. That’s the beauty of a festival like this. The ridiculousness was all in place, even amplified – more dancers, more songs, the Major Lazer in question still sports a bleached Mohawk and yells ridiculous catch phrases. “IS ANYONE DRUNK TONIGHT? WE’RE GONNA GET YOU DRUNK TONIGHT!”

 

 

 

 

I almost feel silly for criticizing it; Major Lazer has always been an entity that requires a specific state of mind and a specific place. I saw them at Coachella a few years ago and it was one of the most ridiculous and fun things of the whole weekend. I was clearly not in either, and as it wore on it became more annoying than entertaining because at that point I think I had reached musical saturation, and that’s the whole point right?.

…and you would think I would have – as this point of the night we had seen 7 bands, two wrestling matches, several movie stars, a comedian and enough dust covered hipsters to last a lifetime. But when you get locked in the tendency is to take it as far as you can, at least that always tends to be my tendency – see what I did there?

Aftershow –

Mates of State – The Parish

Ok, I always do this, and its so stupid – I convince myself that I have to do certain things, or therefore I’m lame and old, or just lame whatever. I get these stupid ideas in my head and make decisions because of them, no matter their practicality. This would be a perfect example.
Given all that I had been through in the past 24 hrs – drove from Dallas, saw Public Enemy and then a Kool Keith after-show, and all that we had seen and done today, it would be more than fair to just go home and go to bed.
But oh no, their was an after-show and so I kept pushing. One logical said that could be said is that it seems that when we are out doing stuff, her insanity begins to decrease, but left to the idle playground of the goddamn devil than all hell breaks loose, so I wanted to stay out as long as we could.
The other side of that is that, I don’t care one bit about Mates of State. I’ve never owned one record, couldn’t’ tell you one song and the few times I have seen them they were painfully average and boring.

 

 

So why was I here?, so fatigued I could barely stand – but soldiering on just so I could get to the finish line so that I could be satisfied that there wasn’t anything left to do that we hadn’t done. It’s a real character flaw of mine. We finally leave there when they finish and mercifully get home around 2am.Henry Rollins officiates wedding

Though I’m from the Dallas/Fort Worth and I don’t know them at all – I had heard that Henry Rollins was gonna be hosting the nuptials of Dallas-area residents and fest attendees Steven Hart and Page King prior to his show later tonight. This I had to see.

During the brisk and mildly absurd but ultimately touching ceremony, Rollins addressed the couple on the importance of the day before they exchanged their vows.

“Right now the two of you are surrounded and vastly outnumbered by people who want nothing more than your great happiness, and it’s safe to say many of them want for your happiness more than their own,” Rollins said. “With 7 billion people in the world and more than 200 million people in America the chances of you two intersecting are frankly against you. The fact that you found each other borders on being a miracle.”

A brief exchange of vows, ring exchange and first kiss was followed by a serenade by Internet sensation the Sexy Sax Man, who earned plenty of laughs and cheers from the crowd that was still applauding the new couple. This festival is freaking awesome.

Del the Funky Homosapien

Being the life-long student of Hip-Hop that I am and a long time fan of Del, I’ve never seen one of his solo shows. Proud to say that I have seen the Hieroglyphics as well as Deltron 30/30 but never just him doing his solo stuff. So I was very excited to check it out.

 

 

Two things that made this quite a bit of a disappointment for me was, one – again I LOVE hip-hop, and yes I tend to gravitate almost exclusively to the more intellectual based, worldly consciousness stylings of groups like the aforementioned Public Enemy and what is known as “underground hip-hop” which is silly, like Blackalicious, Juraasic 5, Busdriver, etc.
However the one thing that embarrasses me about the whole thing is their is an air of elitism that has nothing to do with me and socially it really gets on my nerves. Its so typical and boring that most of these groups play to nerdy, mostly white male (like me) audiences. But where I differ is I hate when they get on that “This is REAL hip-hop, this is the real shit” – and think they are better or somehow evolved than Lil Wayne or Drake. I personally can’t stand the music of Lil Wayne or Drake but its not because my tastes are so sophisticated because I’m so enlightened to what Hip-Hop really is.
I’m a white dude from Texas – how would this ever qualify me to the authentication of an originally all-black and completely original art form started in the South Bronx before I was born?
I just like what I like and leave the bullshit to the bullshitters, so that’s why it was disappointing when Del went off on some elitist non-sense for most of the time he was on stage.
The other was, I don’t know what she had taken or how much of it but whatever it was it had completely taken hold as every few verses I would look over at her and she was struggling to stand with her mouth wide open, eyes in the back of her head and completely unable to hold it together.
Even when I tried to hold her up she kept falling to the ground and gesticulating in ways that were beyond her control. It was terrifying, embarrassing, and I had no idea what to do about it. People were moving out her way like the casualty she was, while others were looking at me incredulously like “What the fuck is wrong with her?”.
I should have just gotten us out of there right then, but I was so disgusted with her and all that she had put me through and now the thing I had been waiting for all weekend, the 1-2-3 punch of Rollins/Posehn/Slayer were all up next and I perhaps selfishly, I wasn’t gonna let her bullshit blow it for me.I got her some water and we sat down for a bit. Thankfully she loves Henry Rollins and so I was hoping that this was gonna hold and keep her attention but having to stand and listen to someone talk for an hour is an undertaking in any condition.

Henry Rollins

We get over there and it felt like forever while we were standing there. People around us knew she was in bad shape and it was embarrassing and I had this fear that Rollins was gonna come out right as she finally nose-dived and then he would know it too and there would be a big scene.
We were right up front, (she is very short) and of course right when he starts, what looked like the local basketball team shows up and decided to stand right in front of us. I was aggressive with them and I didn’t care. Finally Rollins takes the stage and things are looking up.

 

 

 

 

Here are some of the topics he broached: travelings, North Korea, Blue Velvet, scaring the bejesus out of Dennis Hopper, John McCain, drugs, politics, life, longing, and “Life is short. You’ve got to get as many of these stories as you can under your cap.” In his parting words to the audience, where he enthused the importance of the contributions from each generation, he also imagined a world of “24-7 p-funk, Ramones block party.”
Freaking awesome as always.

Brian Posehn

Though we only caught the last half of Posehn’s 30 minute set – it was funny as hell and I was certainly in the need of a good laugh. Feeling inspired as always after seeing Rollins, it was great to laugh, if only for a sec before Slayer. I was also enjoying that, if you don’t know already that comedian Brain Posehn is a HUGE metal fan and one of its biggest ambassadors outside of the Metal community. He was a regular on the Sarah Silverman show and other Comedy Central programming. So this had to have been a freaking DREAM for him – instead of doing his bit in small two-drink minimum comedy club in some Midwestern city, here he was performing like a rock star on the biggest stage of huge festival in front of 10k people, in effect opening for Slayer. How fucking cool is that?

 

 

He talked a bit about that and did this great bit about ICP fans and a few other jokes I had heard him tell. And then he finished with a quip about masturbation and gave the horns and said “Now let’s get ready for Slayer!!”
Sounds good –

Slayer

There was a genuine roar from the crowd as the band—obscured on stage for the very beginning of the set by a huge white sheet upon which they projected pentagrams—launched into the brutal opening riff of the title track from 2009’s World Painted Blood. It’s okay, guys. Slayer is here.

 

 

The band’s set proceeded to dish out absolutely, non-stop, pummeling metal, because that is what Slayer is and does. If you wanted anthems of destruction and odes to Satan, then Slayer is your band.
Slayer is a singular, iconic artist. It’s more appealing now than ever, to more people than ever, to hear a band that just does what they do without any of those other concerns.
Slayer does not care how y’all are doing’ out there tonight, Austin. (Singer Tom Araya did make a “Are you having Fun Fun Fun yet” joke early on)

To drive home where I was mentally, you would think I would have OD’d on Slayer by now. This was my third show this year and my fifth in 13 months and have seen at least another dozen shows or more over the years, but I needed this. Being objective about the actual performance would be impossible for this night, normally I stand in the back and rawk a bit but overall I’m an analyzer, I don’t go for that “This is where you let your aggressions out” bullshit – but I needed an outlet for my frustrations so desperately, and holy shit is their a better therapist than a fucking Slayer show?
Yes there where other bands there that I knew and liked, but I needed something that I knew every word to – and let me tell you something, I rawked harder than I ever have in my life, and perhaps more than anyone there. You know that guy that you kinda fear because he’s so into it? That was me – I even almost jumped into the pit –
Saw this in the bathroom backstage –

 

 

We finally get out of there and instead of heading the Beauty Bar for Diplo‘s after-show party, I had to get her home and I was so beat I was ready myself.

All Tomorrow’s Parties NJ w/ Portishead, Public Enemy & more (Oct/2011)

Ok so this blog post picks right up where the last one left off – literally the next day after seeing the David Byrne installation and feeling the wrath of the Curse of Primus (read all about it here) Erin and I made our way out to Asbury Park, for yet another unforgettable experience.
This time as a journalist once again covering the All Tomorrow’s Festival I’ll Be Your Mirror – curated by none other than Portishead who would headline both nights. This marks Portishead’s first return to the East Coast in 13 years, that will be followed by a more proper return with an additional two nights at Hammerstein Ballroom in NYC – their first shows in NYC since the famed Roseland orchestra show in 1998.
Inviting some of the greatest luminaries in Hip-Hop history to join them, this was a unique festival in a unique location that oddly I had never been to.
Travel tip – rent a car – fuck the cabs.

Oct 1-

Ok so Erin and I head out to Penn Station to take the train out to Asbury Park, amid a flurry of excitement as I can’t believe I’m finally gonna see this historic area, not to mention that we are gonna see Portishead, two nights in a row – and not for the last time this week – among a slew of other activities that this festival will have in store for us.
We get off the train at Asbury Park and to get to Asbury proper and our hotel, you have to take a taxi. What seems like a good deal at first quickly revealed a sleight of hand scam, that by the end of the weekend I could have rented a freaking jet for what this cost. If you know me, than you already know that I loathe taxis and their drivers – easily one of the scummiest professions in the modern world.
The cabs pull up and will take the first 5 people and charge them all a small flat rate. In this case it would only be $6 a person and we thought we were getting a deal. When he drops everyone else off we are the last ones left and for some reason he can’t find our hotel. I call the hotel to confirm their address and they are located less than 2 miles away in a small suburb called Wall Township. I inform the driver of this and this parasite is trying to take us for another kind of ride – immediately insisting that the fare will now be double. I try to negotiate that we will agree but he has to let us check into the hotel and then take us to the festival all for the same rate, and he rejects that offer and says it will be the same rate back.
Meaning that to go from the train to our hotel (less than 6 miles) than to the festival (less than 4 miles) he was trying to take us for at least $50.00 – and we are supposed to do this all weekend? – Hell no, I could have rented a corvette for that kinda money.
I tell the driver that he will be taking us to our hotel for the original amount of $6 per person or he can let us out right here and get nothing.
Since we were the only ones left and he was to return to the train station for his next pickup, he threatened to take us all the way back.
I was sitting behind him and told him that if he didn’t pull over right now that the next vehicle he will be occupying would be an ambulance.
He doesn’t take any chances and pulls over – only to attempt to keep our luggage hostage if we didn’t pay up front.
I grabbed him by his collar and screamed in his face – ” OPEN THE TRUNK MOTHERFUCKER OR I’m GONNA STUFF YOU IN THERE!!!”
Poor Erin is having a nervous breakdown – twice in less than 24 hrs I’ve been in a fight with someone.
He gets the message and pops the trunk and as we are getting our luggage out he’s screaming threats at me – I go to close the side door, throw a $10 bill at his face and tell him to go fuck himself.
Not the best way to start a trip –
I get on the phone to another cab company and we are back in another one in literally less than 5 mins and on to our hotel for a reasonable rate.
This was the only hotel I could find, and let me tell you something – I’ve stayed in quite a few shitholes in my day, but this place was downright frightening.
We had a healthy sense of humor about it and even kinda took pride on our little shithole – its one of those hotel that only has one floor, and when you open the door you are outside and they look they have hourly rates – a real turd bowl.

 

 

 

After we check in and get settled into this fleabag, its time to get over to the festival site, so the pursuit of yet another cab is on the rise – Our third in less than two hours. The next driver guy comes and he is initially a breath of fresh air, but we soon realize that he’s probably the scummiest of them all.
We get in and we are talking music and this guy is a smooth fast talker, but he for some reason I feel comforted by him. I know he’s on the grift but he takes me off guard with a great story about some time he spent with Eddie Van Halen. I thought he might have been pulling that psychic short hand cause I’m normally wearing some piece of VH paraphernalia on me, but not this time, so lucky guess on his part.
He’s awesome but still charges us $15 for a 3 min cab ride and gives us his card and says to call him later and he will take care of us.
Ok whatever, – this festival has infested and setup shop in every nook and cranny of the park with the central focus and convention like atmosphere being at the
Convention Hall.
The festival started yesterday but the two nights of Portishead begin tonight – across the street from the convention is the hotel where all the acts are staying and where the production office has set up shop. We get over there, get our credentials – take a quick look around and grab some greasy food before finally heading in.Our spirits are high and I’m very proud to be here and the anticipation is manic as we enter the main thoroughfare –

As we enter the Convention Hall, I was shocked at how small and unoccupied it was – sure we were three bands from Portishead but it was like we were getting a treat, like we were cheating somehow – that even if this place fills up, we are getting something of a private show. The odd thing is that even till the end, though the floor will fill up, the seats will not look much different than they do here, as we get ready for the first band we wanna see – Battles.

Battles

After the departure of vocalist/guitarist Tyondai Braxton last year, the announcement that Battles would continue came as a surprise. A year later, their sophomore effort Gloss Drop revealed that Battles were mostly the same: unpredictable and rhythmically rich, but not quite as propulsive. Some of the power may have diminished, but Battles are still a force of nature live that gets the body moving. In the Convention Hall, the vocals of Braxton were played as a background sample during Atlas, as with Gloss Drop guests Kazu Makino and Matias Aguayo, effectively driving the point home that they are in control and can get along without him.

Ultramagnetic MCs
 Up next was something for the bucket list – How cool is it that Portishead invited so many important players of Hip-Hop for this festival, and some reformed just to play this show. To know me is to know my life-long obsession with Hip-Hop and is their anyone in any genre crazier than Kool Keith?
Though I’ve seen his solo show many times, to various degrees of success, his original outfit, the legendary Ultramagnetic MC’s were invited to play after being on a long hiatus and their first with Kool Keith in over a decade.
Ced Gee and TR Love came out first and got it going early with Funky/Mentally Mad from their classic 1988 LP Critical Beatdown.
That album singlehandedly introduced many new sampling techniques. Many believe that without Ced Gee, the group’s primary producer, the golden era of sampling may have looked very different. Their albums were some of the first to use many James Brown samples, which became very prominent in Hip Hop in ensuing years.
Everyone was anxious for Keith to appear, and knowing is reputation, was he even gonna show up? – and if he did, what condition would he be in? – how weird was this about to get?
The answer is yes, and shit got weird in a hurry as he took the stage –

 

PortisheadPortishead was truly a thing of pure magic-first East Coast show since their famed Roseland performance in 1998 -first of 4 nights with them.
It would be impossible to overstate my anticipation for this show nor could I ever exaggerate the role this band’s music has played in my life. If their is some type of World Record for listening to an album continuously, I might be in the running. I have listened to some piece of both of their first 2 lps everyday for the past 18 years (even today) it’s just part of my day and I don’t even think about it. When I worked for the man I used to jokingly fill out the section of the application that says “Special skills or achievements” by putting “I have seen Portishead live” –
In hindsight you could say that these two shows were mere warmups to their big return to NYC in a couple of days with two big nights at the famed Hammerstein Ballroom, and given the size of the crowd and condition theirs an argument to support that, but being there and experiencing it, it felt like anything but.

There are not many artists that can pull off headlining two nights of a festival full of fascinating artists, but one of them is Portishead. Performing their first shows on the east coast in 13 years, Portishead were the main attraction on Saturday and Sunday nights, giving their 2008 album Third the proper tour it deserves.

 

In Threads, the penultimate song of both headlining sets, Beth Gibbons unleashed an otherworldly anguish so overwhelming that the frustration behind it defined comprehension. Glory Box sounded more seductive than ever, while Wandering Star had its sensual beat stripped away to give it a delicate haunting quality shared with The Rip.
The vocals of Beth Gibbons ran the gamut from sultry to pained, and the effect never ceased to hypnotize. Gibbons appeared to be in high spirits, smiling throughout and even jumping into the crowd for a brief surf at the end of set finale We Carry On. Most unsettling of all is this uncanny ability to tap into the vastest of emotional depths seemingly at will. Disconcerting, but gorgeous, Portishead is back and better than ever.

Setlist:

Silence
Hunter
Mysterions
The Rip
Sour Times
Magic Doors
Wandering Star (Geoff/Beth/Adrian solo version)
Machine Gun
Over
Glory Box
Cowboys
Threads

Encore:

Roads
We Carry On

After the show we walked across the street to Asbury Lanes, this charmingly shitty little bowling alley for the after-party that was to be Peanut Butter Wolf w/ a surprise appearance by Prince Paul, that apparently just showed up. However the line was wrapped around the building twice and it was one in and one out. I was pleasantly emotionally drained after seeing Portishead and we had already had a long travel day and had to be back up early tomorrow so we looked forward to settling into our rat-trap hotel for the night. I called the cab driver with the cool Eddie Van Halen story to come get pick us up, and he did – for $25 bucks.

We had so much fun making fun of our own hotel and how shitty it was, and jumping up and down on the bed – One of the best and silliest nights her and I have had in a long time and it was great fun. We hadn’t really eaten today, so we walked to the McDonald’s next door and had to go thru the drive-thru on foot (that’s never embarrassing right?) – but it was just so surreal and ridiculous that we couldn’t stop laughing -Really fun.
When we got back to the fleatrap, we had a food fight with fries and started rough housing – I felt bad because I tossed Erin’s little 90 lb body a little too hard and with her infinite clumsiness she fell on her ass in hilarious fashion that we both screamed laughing at, but she bumped the old staccato wall and it skinned her elbow for a little blood.
Even more hilarious was, given the nature of the place, I think the guy next door thought I was beating her and we could hear him outside our door doing some investigating, which only led to more laughter. Good times.

Oct 2nd

So now that today is not a travel day, we had the day to take it easy, take in Asbury Park and enjoy the area and see everything it had to offer.
It’s now Sunday, only our second day here, but the third and final day of the festival. We had opted to not come on Friday because:
a) They were doing some odd thing with the credentials for just that day, surrounding Jeff Mangum (who I can’t stand).
b) We thought we were seeing Primus in Manhattan on Friday (see last entry for story).
c) We thought we would save on a night at a hotel by waiting till Saturday because their was also really only one band we wanted to see, Shellac, who we also knew we would be seeing back in Brooklyn in a few days.
d) i.e. we skipped Friday

Shellac (surprise early show)

Only to learn just what a good decision this was when we got word that Shellac was going to do an early Sunday Service show around noon at the aforementioned charmingly shitty bowling alley – Win!
An authentically ancient bowling alley Asbury Lanes. Dark, loaded with cheap beer and greasy food served by the friendly, tattooed staff, and so technologically out of the loop that score keeping had to be done on paper; the alley had the kind of charming environment that epitomizes this festival.

Main dude and all around creep Steve Albini starts the show by saying “Thank you for coming to the bowling alley, we’ve played several bowling alleys, and this is among the nicest bowling alleys we’ve played at in New Jersey.”
Albini then lead his band, a total sound and fury machine, through a blisteringly powerful set.

Not long after that Albini told us that he was hosting his usual poker game – this time at the Berkeley Hotel across the street from Convention Hall – the hotel where we checked in to get our credentials, and basically the entire hotel is the Production Office for the festival this weekend. We went over there to check it out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We didn’t stay long and I didn’t play, though I would have liked to, just to do it. Also I like poker and it would have been fun – but as cool as that sounds, it also by the same token, meant staying indoors playing cards in the middle of the day with a notorious asshole, and we hadn’t even seen the beach yet.
I’m also really good at poker so I would have enjoyed fucking with Albini – but it was fun just to watch for a bit and go check out the rest of the boardwalk.Silverball Pinball Museum

Ok, so if anyone knows anything about me, knows that pinball is a lifelong passion of mine, right up there with music and baseball. I’ve been fortunate to have played and seen some amazing machines all over the world. I’ve competed in the Brooklyn Tournament every year since 2006 and coming in 3rd in 2007. I’ve played at Redondo Beach before they took the machines out and visit Pacific Pinball everytime I’m in Las Vegas – so how could I come to the Pinball Capital of the World and not play!! – No way man, I was looking forward to this almost as much as the music!
This festival feels tailored made for me, Public Enemy, Kool Keith, two nights of Portishead, some of the best seafood I’ve ever eaten – and now I was in pinball heaven –

 

Enter – The Silverball Museum – home to more than 120 classic pinball machines. But unlike most museums, the Silverball is hands on. A 10-dollar pass will buy you an hour of time on the most popular vintage machines dating back to 1933. I wanted to drop to my knees and worship. Just look at this place!
Boardwalks and pinball go hand in hand, and here I was playing pinball on classic machines in Asbury Park – One of the best days ever.Then, as I’m walking around like a kid in a candy store, I see Portishead main man Geoff Barrow checking out an old Neptune machine from the 1960s –

I am no fanboy and normally in this type of situation I would have said nothing and certainly wouldn’t have taken a picture, but its not everyday that I see one of my idols participating in one of my passions outside of their vocation. Still wearing his ATP credentials, I thought back to that scene in the Roseland DVD where he is walking around outside the venue, still wearing his laminate – odd but kind of a full circle moment for me. We chatted for a bit and moved on – I had to see if they had Earthshaker haha (they didn’t) – but damn this place was cool. We walked out of there shaking our heads going, “Did that just really happen?”.We still had time before the bands we wanted to see started to check out a few more things. Shepard Fairey’s propaganda style art pasted on the surrounding buildings really tied everything together.

And then we finally got to take a walk on the beach before heading into the Convention Hall for another long night of incredible music – what a wonderful day.

 

Company Flow

 

This was only Company Flow’s third show in the past decade, but they appeared to have not missed a beat in their hiatus. A good way to warm up the crowd for what was to be a really incredibly performance by Public Enemy, Company Flow brought old school rap to ATP much in the same way Ultramagnetic MC’s did the night before.Company Flow together again, for what was apparently their 3rd show together in 10 years. I’ve seen El-P and Mr. Len separately, first time seeing Bigg Jus perform.

Public Enemy

The group, complete with DJ Lord (who replaced Terminator X) and full band in tow, were originally booked to play Fear of a Black Planet in full. But after the cancellation of Mogwai, they were given a two hour slot. In response, Public Enemy declared they would be playing Fear of a Black Planet “remixed” meaning we heard nearly every song off the album, in addition to numerous other PE hits. Now we were getting two hours of PE? – Could this day get any cooler?

But that meant that she show had to start and no disrespect – but we had to sit through one of the longest and most excruciating soundchecks I can ever remember, just painful. The whole thing was led by what appeared to be a older family member, probably of Chuck D’s, something to keep the gentlemen employed rather than his actual qualification to do it – and this dude was an exhausting taskmaster – (It would not be the last time we would seen him, stay tuned next month).
The show was starting, Erin took her place in the photo pit (after successfully defending her ground with some asshole from the production staff, even more impressive was that this dude looked King Kong Bundy).
Backed by a band with metal leanings and the turntable wizardry of DJ Lord (who masterfully connected the subversiveness of Public Enemy with Nirvana), Chuck D came out like a prizefighter and showed why he’s still one of the best MCs in the game.

With his politically-charged rhymes as relevant as ever, here comes his foil Flavor Flav who was a bundle of bottomless energy. Whether running back and forth from one end of the stage to another, leaping into the crowd, or commanding them to jump, Flav kept the energy levels high. Erin snapped one of my fave pics of PE ever check it –

They blew everyone away with one of the more energetic performances I’ve seen in a long time. Say what you will about Flavor Flav, the man is an iconic performer and had more onstage charisma than pretty much any other performer I had seen all weekend. Chuck D, of course, still has all the MC chops that has made him one of the most highly respected rappers of all time.
At one point as if the level of world class talent onstage couldn’t get any higher, Chuck D invites legendary drummer Dennis Davis to join them on a couple of tracks. This was now officially one of the coolest days of my life and Portishead hasn’t even gone on yet.
To educate/remind the crowd of Davis’ incomparable resume, Chuck D asked he crowd “Even heard the song Fame with David Bowie and John Lennon?, wanna know who played drums on that track?” – and proudly pointed to Davis – a jaw dropping moment.
Also need to mention how skilled a turntabalist DJ Lord is. And that famed Twitter music critic Chris Weingarten (1000 Times Yes) was brought onstage to rap Don’t Believe The Hype, which was actually the only thing he said into the mic before jumping into the crowd. The whole set was freaking awesome, and a highlight of the entire three day festival.

Setlist –

Contract on the World Love Jam
Brothers Gonna Work It Out
911 Is a Joke
Welcome to the Terrordome
Show ‘Em Whatcha Got
Bring tha Noize
Don’t Believe the Hype
Cold Lampin’ With Flavor
Can’t Truss It
Night of the Living Baseheads
He Got Game
Harder Than You Think
Anti-Nigger Machine
Burn Hollywood Burn
Power to the People
Bring the Noise
Timebomb
Who Stole the Soul
Shut Em Down
Rebel Without a Pause
By the Time I Get to Arizona
Fight the Power

Portishead

I wonder if it’s weird to be Beth Gibbons, to look out at a teeming auditorium, and to realize that everyone in the room has probably had sex to your music at some point or another.  Gibbons is basically our Isaac Hayes, our Teddy Pendergrass. And though Portishead is a studio band through and through (Geoff Barrow has said in interviews that they’ve generally not enjoyed playing live), they did an amazing job at bringing the dusky, cracking feel of their records to life onstage while at the same time playing around with their songs’ compositions.

Geoff Barrow, the group’s production mastermind, switched between percussion, guitar, bass, and turntables. He was impressive on all those instruments, but his scratch-solos were serious highlights. Barrow’s big moments didn’t’t exactly flaunt their technical mastery, but they always made perfect musical sense for their moments. Guitarist Adrian Utley ripped though delirious ’70s-soul solos or bottom-heavy fuzzbombs whenever he had to. The group’s live drummer proved to be great at recreating Barrow’s dusty breakbeats without so much as a single extraneous fill. This is a group of people very good at what it does.

With its militaristic, gunfire-like synth march, Machine Gun was as experimental as it was visceral, and tonight, Chuck D accompanied it with a verse from Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos.

Gibbons, who barely spoke a word to the audience all night, seemed small and wraith-like onstage, her face usually hidden under hair and shadow. But at the end of the set, when she smiled huge and pulled off the world’s least likely stage-dive, it suddenly became obvious that she’d been having fun all along. Her voice was warm and tremulous, and it sounded absolutely incredible throughout the night.Though the energy level was completely different than last night. I was in absolute bliss.
Setlist:  (abbreviated as it differed from last night)Nylon Smile (instead of Hunter)
Machine Gun(with Chuck D)
Chase the Tear
We Carry On (w/ Simeon from Silver Apples)

After-party with DJ Shepard Fairey – Asbury Lanes
  We learned after last night that the after -parties at Asbury Lanes fill up quick and this being the last after-party of the festival and Shepard Fairey was gonna be DJ’n, we knew we had to haul serious across the street to get over there and get in. The cool thing is that we were some of the first to arrive so we had no problem getting in. After being their for only about 20 mins I learned just how lucky as I when I went outside to smoke the line was already stretched to Pennsylvania. It was also during this smoke break where the wheels of this perfect day began to unravel. You can’t take away all that we saw/did today, one of the most unforgettable days of my life, and we were ending it at Asbury Lanes, the same place we started at this morning with Shellac, I just wished it had ended as well as it had begun.
I’m not here to divulge too much private information, I’m just trying to tell a story here for you, myself and for the sake of posterity – so if anything is revealed, its only in the name of advancing the story and that is my only agenda. So with that in mind I must tell you that Erin is not supposed to be drinking alcohol, like at all, and we had a deal on this trip that she wouldn’t.
However given the amazing day that we had, and all that we had seen, and now we were about to get down with Shepard Fairey, and I wanted a beer too, when she asked if she could have one, I relented and ordered us both a drink. Big mistake.
That’s what gets me, I always think its going to be ok – but it never is and its never just one. I wanted to smoke and they were only letting people out one at a time and normally letting me out of her sight for one sec would have caused big problems but she was totally okay with me smoking alone (that should have been my first clue).
Though I was enjoying her all day, I prolonged my cigarette break to enjoy a rare moment to myself and it would cost me. Having said that, I was still only gone for about 15 mins and when I returned I saw her before she saw me and when she did she quickly threw away an empty bottle of beer while still holding another.
I don’t know how many she managed to get down in my absence but in 15 mins time she went from the excitement of just seeing Portishead to being smashed, and I was super pissed off.
I tried to just grin and bear it but soon it would become inescapable.Shepard was setting up and it seemed like the entire festival was here – He was playing all of that fun shit that I like and that I like to spin – None of that Dubstep nonsense or trying to make some artistic statement, just getting people to dance and have fun. All the fun shit from Run-DMC to Rob Base, to Pete Rock etc.

I  tried to get into it and just forget about what was happening with her while still keeping my eye on her to make sure she didn’t hurt herself, and I did for awhile, totally losing myself in the music, but her bullshit was catching up fast. Not only did we see Geoff Barrow again but the entire Portishead crew were here.
She insisted that I go talk to Geoff and I did for a bit (dude probably thinks I’m stalking him today).

But I was just so angry that I was in a dream situation with all of my heroes,that I certainly am not likely to be in again, and I couldn’t go hang for fear of what her situation could yield (trust me on this). It wasn’t like I was gonna get pics with them and ask for autographs, but I had a chance to hang for real and I know the score, and I had to just idly keep my distance and let the opportunity pass me by. Their was no way I was gonna live with being embarrassed in front of these people so I just let it go and decided to enjoy just being there and in their presence.
I called that same Taxi guy to get us back and he shows up and takes us and four others (all to the same fleabag) – and when we get there he says that its only $9 bucks – Ok cool, and I even thought he meant $9 bucks per party, but oh no, it was $9 bucks per person. It would have been highway robbery to charge just us $18 for this 8 min cab ride, but he bled the lot of us for $60 bucks for this short ride. I’m telling you if you are ever in Asbury Park, rent a car, DON’T TAKE CABS –

Shellac – The Bell House – Oct 3rd – Brooklyn, NY

Ok so the next morning we pack up and of course we have to get into another cab, I didn’t call the EVH guy, last night was the final straw, and we lucked out with a nice dude that didn’t actually rip us off this time.
We took the series of trains to get back to Brooklyn, and even cooler was in the same car as us, and just in the seats in front of us were Public Enemy’s live band riding shotgun. The drummer had a white girl under each arm all the way back to Brooklyn.

Before we got news and eventually attended the “secret” Shellac show yesterday at Asbury Park (and even so that show was admittedly abbreviated), we were content on waiting to see then when we got back to Brooklyn. They were playing one of my favorite venues in the whole country, perfect for what they are about and it was gonna be a full set.
When we got there we discovered that the show was sold out, but the crafty door girl was enterprising. She just so happened to have an extra pair that she only wanted face value for – they were the kind of tickets you print out. We gave her the money, and she granted us access but wouldn’t let us keep the print outs of the tickets – hmmmm – I have a feeling she had been doing this all night and business was booming. Even so or even if we did get the last two tickets I was super happy to be here and excited for the show.

The Bell House was staging this for two post-All Tomorrow’s Parties hangover shows, but the next one is tomorrow, the same night as Portishead night one at Hammerstein so this was our only chance.
Ready to give their loyal (and very male-dominated) following a world of aluminum guitar-scraping hurt, their trademark side-splitting Q & A sessions and one-liner between-song zingers.

 

 

Worshiping at the Albini altar is routine, but the first of the band’s two Bell House shows displayed why the band deserves the props. The musicians were ass-tight meticulous, the song selection stellar, the sound immaculate (Albini called the Bell House “the best place to play in the NYC metropolitan area”), and the set lasted a staggering 100 minutes.

Albini’s bizarro-world, rhythmically challenged dance twitches are worth the price of admission alone, but the between-song shenanigans and banter set Shellac apart from the typically abstract inside joke jargon usually spewed at shows. Some highlights (or lowlights), if you will:

• Best joke of the evening, courtesy of Weston: “What’s brown and sticky? My Beyoncé poster.”
• Funniest song intro, courtesy of Albini: “This song is called “I Came In You.” “It’s about intercourse.”
• Best baseball-related advice for the recently manager-less Chicago White Sox, courtesy of Albini: “They need to hire Buck Showalter.”
• Best hot-dog-related advice from Weston: “Last year, I ate three hot dogs. I got sick but not from the hot dogs being bad, but because I had three. My tummy hurt.”
• Best advice from Albini about purchasing gear: Don’t go to Guitar Center. Albini bought a new guitar strap there for $44.
• Best friendly natured jab at Albini, courtesy of Weston: After being asked by an audience member “What’s better: jam or jelly?” Weston retorted with “I am going to jam (and jelly) my dick up Steve’s mom’s ass.”

Setlist – Canada
Copper
Watch Song
Squirrel Song
My Black Ass
A Minute
You Came In Me
The End of Radio
Steady as She Goes
Dog & Pony Show
Crow
Spoke

Portishead – Hammerstein Ballroom – Oct 4-5th – NYC

Ok so we had blowing and going for a week straight – everyday since she got here, and now we were gonna cap off her last two days in the city with the historic return of Portishead to NYC.
We woke up to the good news that our beloved Texas Rangers had won the ALDS last night and were headed to the American League Championship series for the second year in a row.
How do we celebrate the Texas Rangers win? How about 2 more nights of Portishead? –

Oct 4th

We had a good day in the city and the anticipation for tonight had me manic with excitement, but some of her bullshit rose to the surface right at the zero hour that we were approaching the venue for the show.
When tickets had originally gone on sale, I was past my limit on my card so we used her card and I just gave her the cash for the tickets. I had the same type of paper printouts that the door girl at Shellac wouldn’t let us have, folded in my breast pocket.
I was like Fred Astaire, dancing around, I didn’t even mind that the line to get in was almost to 10th Ave – And as we were approaching the entrance/nirvana they were two lines:
One for Will Call
Another for people who had tickets in hand.
I naturally got in the line for people who already had their tickets because like I said I was waving them around like a newborn baby, when she quietly tells me that we have to go to Will Call – oh fuck.
Not wanting to spoil my spirit she waited till we got up here and didn’t really tell me till after we got in but I knew what was up.
Remember before last week we hadn’t seen each other in almost 2 months, and even last week when we were making the plans for her to come visit we were having problems and arguments and at one point a decision for her to not come at all was close to being reached by both ends.
So, though these were my tickets, her insane jealousy allowed her to jump to the conclusion that if she didn’t come, I would take someone else, and not just anyone else but naturally someone that would render the entire evening scandalous, and so therefore without telling me, she called her Ticketmaster or whatever and said that she changed her mind and wanted to pick up the tickets at Will Call.
Meaning that what I was holding in my hand was worthless this whole time, and though they were my tickets, if she hadn’t come, I would have learned that cruel truth at the height of my excitement as I was walking into the venue, not to mention the embarrassment I would have suffered in front of whatever friend I had invited, not to mention their own palpable disappointment.
It was insanity and a viciousness I just couldn’t reconcile and once again had to suppress on a night I had been waiting for not only for months, but in retrospect for over 13 years.
However I wasn’t letting her and any of her baffling dysfunction take this from me – It was too personal and meant too much to me to let it go awry over stupidity. We soldiered on and headed into the beautiful Hammerstein Ballroom for the first of two nights – Portishead, were finally back in NYC.

The band let every piece of their show get absorbed by the environment around them. Going through the greatest tracks of their discography, the band exhausted every element of strength, surprise and subtlety, striving to exceed their own expectations. Beth Gibbons took her familiar place in front-center stage and delivered her signature, achingly beautiful vocals, never letting up in the slightest.

 

 

 

 

 

Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley provided the unequivocal ambiance of all things Portishead, with keyboards, percussion, metallic snare drums and turntable tricks strewn about. It seemed like as the night went on, the group’s dynamic intensified throughout, with each song becoming more rigid, building up on an emotional level that made the cast of thousands simply watch in awe.

All in all, seeing Portishead live was the equivalent of the life cycle of a human heart living through the most extreme of emotions. That, in and of itself, is unforgettable.

In terms of the setlist they just repeated the same show as the first night of the ATP Festival in Asbury Park. In terms of what the crowd was like, I have to admit that I was at times beyond annoyed. This little gay dude in front of us was so obnoxious and selfish with his gesticulations as were crammed in like sardines, and given my anger from earlier, I don’t know how I didn’t punch him. I think Beth Gibbon’s unbelievable expression saved the dude a beating and myself from going completely insane.

Oct 5th

 

 

 Erin’s little tickets stunt almost came back to bite her in the ass – See this was her last night in the city and she wanted to do something different which I can completely understand. I’m the one obsessed with Portishead not her, so on her last night, I can see why she wouldn’t wanna go see the same band that she’s seen three of the last four nights, a band that until last week hadn’t ever heard of except from me. Just like in Los Angles earlier this year, she didn’t wanna spend her last in Los Angeles seeing Prince for the 5th time (and that time she got her wish as I rolled solo to that last Prince show).
So I was fine with her not going though it was her last night in NY, and though it may sound selfish if this was any other band I might have relented and said “You know what? three nights in a row is enough, this is your last night, let’s do what you wanna do” – But this was something special that I hadn’t been waiting so long for and she knew and agreed to that before hand, and also, her jealous antics with the tickets and that shit she pulled our last night in Asbury Park really wasn’t motivating me much.
But remember, at the very least since she pulled that shit, she now had to go to Hammerstein to claim the tickets and then what? So if she was gonna go through all that why not just see the show with me? Her true motivation was to keep an eye on me for sure.
Enough of this nonsense, let’s see Portishead one more time :)Everything about the show—from the wall of live video carefully manipulated in real-time behind them, to the thoughtful set-up of individual and overlapping spotlights on stage, to the crisp and perfect sound—was immaculate. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a live performer with a better voice than Beth Gibbons. What a heartbreak machine that woman is! Don’t get me wrong, the newest material they’ve put out has been ace, but hearing her note-perfect in taking on the old Dummy torchsongs like Mysterions, Sour Times, and Glory Box was jaw-dropping. On Wandering Star, stripped down to an intimate duet with her and Geoff Barrow both crouching at center stage, she kept elevating her devastated moan, higher, higher, until the crowd just totally lost it. They lost it a lot. Every time her face flashed on the big screen, warped and ghostly from whatever distorted filter they were using, it had a grimace of emotional exhaustion. .

 

 

As a live band, with five on-stage players beside Gibbons, Portishead are double impressive. It was on this level that material from 2008’s Third really hit. Hearing them work into krautrock grooves, two drummers pounding, on something like Machine Gun, you were kind of amazed at the heaviness (it was ominously accompanied on the big screen by a slow crawl down some murderer’s warehouse hallway). Adrian Utley’s guitar solo on We Carry On is something you’d have never expected from their 90s work—aggressive and agitating rather than coolly removed. On material from their creepy-crawly 1997 self-titled album, Geoff Barrow did some live record-scratching, or most likely simulated it on some newfangled computer program. Rather than sounding dated, it added a compellingly huge dose of freaked-out noise to songs like Cowboys and Over.

It all sounded dark and fresh in the face of the ironically smooth crooning, day-glo keyboard noodles, and tiny, reverbed ditties that our borough has recently produced. For elegance, they might never top that famous Roseland show with the New York Philharmonic. For transporting power, I can’t imagine I’ll see a better show for the rest of the year.
In terms of the setlist, they did the same setlist as they did the second night of ATP – so those two shows (minus the special guests) mirrored these two, but somehow these two shows felt special and powerful and I’ll never forget them.As we were stepping out after the show that night – Brooklyn Vegan snapped a shot of us (unbeknown to me until someone emailed me to tell me) – and its got to be the worst pic of me ever – I notoriously take bad photos, but look how tired I look – I look like 15 years older than what I really am, as compared to looking 10 years younger like I normally do which is source of pride for me. I know the hustle is hard, and I hustle like no one else, but the stress is clearly getting to me.

SXSW 2011: The Parties – Perez Hilton, Village Voice, Fader, Spin & Vice Bring the Noise

So now getting into my fourth day at SXSW and its usually around this time that I’ve only slept for a few hours a day and surviving on free bbq and beer, and with constant ringing in my ear, my ability to absorb much more becomes a bit cynical haha.

 

Perez Hilton One Night In Austin

Celebrity blogger Perez Hilton drew a huge crowd for his annual SXSW show at the new ACL Live venue Saturday night.
I was here for one reason only & that was to se Taylor Momsen & the Pretty Reckless. I had caught her live a few times already and she is the real deal. Forget all that shit about her being an actress that is trying to sing, this is where she belongs & will be so from now on.

Taylor Momsen

Village Voice Showcase – Austin Music Hall

I got there pretty early (around 7pm) and the place was already a madhouse of people swarming to get in. This was one of the most anticipated showcases of the entire festival. I go up and get my credentials that thankfully (and I don’t care about being pampered and all that shit) gave me access to a private room with a nice bathroom, couches, earplugs and free booze, cause this place was like the fraternity in Animal House.

After taking advantage of that situation I went out to the main room to check out Wild Flag that couldn’t possible have lived up to their hype. The band is made up of key members of Sleater-Kinney and the Jicks, and while I’m a fan of both of those bands, and clearly I’m not the only one feeling the absence of SK, but you would think that Led Zeppelin had re-formed with the press they have been getting. So, either their following was far more dedicated than I realized, or they have a killer PR team – and with singer Carrie Brownstein post SK foray into journalism, I’m thinking that she knows just how to get it done.
Regardless, they were pretty good and exactly what you think it would sound like, the songs that Brownstein sung for SK, not an antithesis of Black Flag.

Wild Flag

 

–  Fishbone who was up next (and probably the act I was looking the most to seeing)  probably played for less time than it took to set up all their horns and the Theramin-in-a-suitcase. Lead singer Angelo Moore, was behind the stacks wearing an Andy Warhol wig and practicing his cartwheels, so this was gonna be as nuts as he is and I was getting excited but were taking forever. 
With the crowd getting antsy, they sent out comedian Donald Glover (who I had just seen last night host the MTVu Woodie Awards) to do a brief set as his rapper alter ego, Childish Gambino – it felt planned, but it gave the party an awesome burst of spontaneity and he was super entertaining that you had already forgotten the shittiness of the previous two acts and did exactly what it was designed to do, get you hyped and keep you entertained.

Fishbone finally takes the stage and shit gets real weird/awesome real quick –

Their shit was so great, how are you gonna top that? Well again I’m a hip-hop fanatic and a huge Wu-Tang Clan fan, but if you have read this blog or had the misfortune of trying to see any of them in concert, individually or collectively in the last 5 years, you don’t know what to  expect, which is half the fun/misery, but I’ve learned sadly, not to expect much.
Having said that, they still managed to greatly disappoint with their shenanigans they just keeps lowering their stock and legacy, who but me will still keep putting up with their shit?
Their was literally over 90 mins after Fishbone finished before they finally got their asses onstage – and during that time, I had personally seen two dudes piss themselves, three get escorted out of the music hall, and the bartenders had basically given up trying to keep service in order. It was that kind of party – As always, when its billed as Wu-Tang, their shit is so dysfunctional, the thing you do is try to guess/hope who is actually going to show up. For those who have been down this road a few times, you know to automatically dismiss the notion of the RZA and while your at Method-Man. It’s like you have to go “Ok, which ones’ career is suffering the most right now?” and that’s how you can guess accurately of who your gonna get.
After all that wait, only four of the nine members showed –
The GZA
U-God
Inspectah Deck
..and surprisingly – Ghostface Killah

They did their run of the “classics” with irritating mic problems the whole show (hey guys, with all the people onstage with wireless mics, that might be your problem?) that lasted about an hour. The best thing about the show was their joined by Erykah Badu for the last couple of tunes. Even with the feedback problems she still sounded great as always.
Around 2 a.m., Wu-Tang Clan called it a night and turned the party over to Badu, who switched to her other identity, DJ Lo Down Loretta Brown and played a great set of vintage dance tunes and modern hip hop for the stragglers who had made it through the night.

Next Day….

Spin Magazine Party – Stubb’s BBQ
   We get down there around 4pm and get checking in and take time to say hello to some of the staff that are friends of mine before heading toward the stage. The Spin Magazine party used to be the premier party during SXSW before turning into a day thing at Stubb’s a few years ago, and its still cool and always one to look forward to. One of the things you survive on during this festival is the free boze/soda/food – and its almost always not what your first choice would be, as anything free usually isn’t. It’s most likely something you have never tried/seen before because the sponsors use the festival as a test market, so you will find yourself drinking chocolate flavored water and chewing fish flavored gum.
Today, we each grabbed a tall can of this lemonade drink – that’s kinda like Sparks – and though I know I’m a serious lightweight when it comes to drinking and it was early in the day, I swear we both were shitfaced after three sips of this poison.
With my new drunk induced inflated ego, I seriously almost punched this total asshole that was being insufferable as the Killls were starting their set.
They were having serious sound issues – so much so that I thought they were actually doing a soundcheck onstage, because they were stopping and starting literally dozens of times – it wasn’t until singer Alison Moyer – finally relented and quietly made a few apologies.
I can’t make my mind up about her – I like the Kills and I’m all about the Dead Weather, her voice and image and super-cool swagger is totally hot. However sometimes I see pictures of her and I’m kinda like – meh – and sometimes she seems a little too cool. But hey she probably is – they finally got it together and turned in a decent set.As always they had DJ’s playing between sets and between these two acts, Skrillex (didn’t I tell you this guy was freaking everywhere) doing a set –  His extremely punchable hipster face is enough to make me want to take him out, but holding him responsible for the rise of dubstep is truly worthy of ball-kicking trespass –
Up next was TV on the Radio who has just attacked this festival – usually a band with their visibility comes here to do one high-profile show and doesn’t really have to slog through multiple-show days like the smaller bands unless they just want to, but TVOTR I think had like 8 gigs this week. Like I said earlier, Jah from The Death Set is playing drums for them now and he couldn’t have been more excited.
(Check out the awesome Clutch sticker hanging there in the back)

This show was really good and they are an incredible live band – sadly however this was one of the last performances with bassist Gerard Smith as he died just a few weeks later of lung cancer.

 The Fader Fort Party –

After TV on the Radio finished at Stubb’s we ran across the freeway over to the Fader Fort (running from show to show is a time honored tradition at SXSW) As a testament of how busy I’ve been this week, this was my first (and only) sojourn over to the Fort this year. This place is usually a destination for me and last year I practically lived there all week. Where else in the world let alone at SXSW can you go to a place for free, drink free booze and soda all day, get fed, free clothes, free internet, free magazines and get entertained by the best at that time? – The place is a goddamn utopia and my greatest dream of a totalitarian state come to life, and this year didn’t disappoint either.
Remember my earlier post about open RSVPs? – The Fader Fort is the most popular of them , (see above description as to why) and if you just do the open RSVP you have little or no chance of getting in – those public wristbands are worthless, you gotta go the extra mile if you wanna get in – thankfully I had an advantage – and we were ushered right in – I’m not talking about some elitist, velvet rope Studio 54 bullshit, I’m just giving a tip, that its best to contact someone involved ahead of time so that you don’t waste your time standing in line when you could be doing other rad shit.

As we are heading backstage, we are finally seeing Odd Future and what all the hype is about as they are causing a literal riot with them as the aggressors. Various members would either flat out threaten photographers in the photo pit and others would challenge the entire crowd to a water bottle fight. Debris, empty bottles, clothing and other general garbage started flying during every song –

Near the end of their set, the group prompted the entire audience to chant “Fuck tha police!” – Together, they are truly aggressive to the point of intimidation. Though I appreciate how youthful and overflowing with energy they are, I have to admit, instead of just having some good fun, it really seemed like they are assholes, going out of their way to be bigger assholes.

Speaking of overflowing energy, (but used for something COMPLETELY different) it was after 7pm and somehow I had gone all day without seeing Matt & Kim (something I had yet to do all week) so here they come and the crowd greeted them ecstatically.
Toward the end of their set, making her second cameo of the festival,  they were briefly joined by Erykah Badu who I saw strolling around backstage.
…and not to be outdone by the previous antics of Odd Future, what is normally a staple of their live show, this time Kim’s bootie dance atop the crowd seemed to have an added interference.

The Vice Party –

The Vice Party has replaced what the Spin Magazine party used to be: a last night of the festival blowout in some hidden/non-obvious location that you wouldn’t think/know about till the night of, where doors don’t even open till midnight and it goes all night, way past 2am and this one was listed as going till 6am.
This time it was at the Starr Building, some non-descript place you would imagine holding law firms not some crazy party and the bands that were set to play were Keith Morris’ (Black Flag, Circle Jerks) new band Off! and one last detonation from Odd Future who has literally stunned this festival. You couldn’t go anywhere without people talking about them and having some story involving carnage in their wake. I personally have already seen two partial performances this week and I think tonight was something like their 12th show of the week, (and third of the day).

We get there and of course the entry to get in looks like Tienanmen Square – just complete and utter chaos. You would think people’s infant children were trapped inside the way they were rabid to get in. The hype of Odd Future plus the exclusivity and free booze in an environment that craves such things? It was 1984 and this was the only place that had Cabbage Patch Dolls.
I’ve been around this stuff for over 10 years and it even frightened me a bit, and poor Erin has never seen shit like this before, but suddenly a knight in shining armor arrived.
Eric and Kim Castillo, a couple from Houston that are good friends of mine and who I stay with when I have the misfortune of being in Houston, arrive.
Eric is a professional DJ, who goes by Ceeplus Badknives and has been on the scene for a long time, and we have done gigs together in Houston and during SXSW for the last several years. His wife Kim is the salt of the earth and one of my favorite peoples.
Though we all had invites they were at capacity but Eric had the juice and got us in no problem and ironically said that they had just been talking about me and was hoping to see me. Boy were we glad to see them.

We get in and the four of us grab some of the free booze and this place just looks dangerous – like total lawlessness.
Perfect for a punk legend to fuck shit up – and that’s exactly what Off! proceeded to do:

They were crazy, unreal loud – and it had that feel that it should – volatile punk band playing at 2 in the morning in some abandoned building. Totally brown –
Outside I could only imagine what people were dealing with to get in to catch the Odd Future 3am slot – the hype was off the charts – this was their last show of the festival and given the late hour probably the last show of the festival, its 3am and its gotta top all of the other ones, so this was the one to catch according to the hype. Matt was texting me from outside so I told him to go around back and I had security let him in.

Going from Hardcore Punk to Hardcore Rap seamlessly is what makes an event like this so memorable and fun to attend. It’s 3am and here comes Odd Future:

Their show was as violent as the punk of Off! but I have to say I was more impressed with the intensity as well as the crowd as compared to any real musical gratification. In fact I would have to say, it was so super sloppy, it never seemed like the show ever actually started. It just seemed like Tyler the Creator and company, came out, got the crowd worked up, complained/cursed alot, and seemed to go out of their way to be destructive assholes.

Now I’m not exactly old, just a bit older, but I will be the first to admit, that this probably has something to do with why I just simply can’t relate to these guys. In a generation of constant self-promotion and being ruthlessly crass breeds huge rewards by your peers, that’s something I will never identify with. But as a life-long student of Hip-Hop, it really wasn’t that good – I was super excited about seeming them, and I loved their story. Totally all about their DIY punk ambition and did all of it themselves. Some young guys looking like the next Wu-Tang Clan, but I just didn’t get it. They def got some talent, but instead of showcasing that, or even having some knucklehead fun a la Beastie Boys cira License to Ill era, instead that appear as actual dickheads.

I didn’t sweat it though, the spectacle still provided weird entertainment on what had to be one of the weirdest nights of my life.

After they played, the whole place turned into a dance party, with these two DJs playing all this great 60s garage soul music that was fantastic and it 4am in the morning.

We shook our asses in celebration of a long week, and a day that felt just as long, and I just couldn’t leave – I just had to keep going somehow. Finally after the clock struck 5am, people really started to clear out and we danced the last song, to finally put this year’s SXSW to rest.

 

Photos –

Roy Turner
Nate “Igor” Smith
Brenna Rushing
Todd Seelie
Heather Browne
Joe Gall
Max Blau
Samantha Marble

SXSW 2011: TrickyKid Brawl for All w/ The Death Set in a boxing ring!

The first people to arrive is the Here Holy Spain crew so Erin and I take them across the street to a Mexican restaurant and treat them to dinner, hoping Randy and the boys would be gone when we returned. Having Mr. Palmer drunkenly supervise my event was not part of the deal. This was our place for the evening per the agreement but that didn’t stop his pride from dictating that this was his place and he calls the shots.

Matt arrives, and despite Robyn asking me not to officially announce the showcase (or namely the Death Set’s involvement) until a few days before for fearing that it could compromise their position at an official showcase, I hand him a list of RSVPs that total close to 2k.

We finally open the doors, equipment is in place inside the ring – I get in, make a few announcements, wish Erica, HHS bass player a Happy Birthday and the show begins.

They kicked ass as I knew they would, their were only about 60 people thru the doors by the time they finished playing, but it was a great start and was so glad to have them.

Next up was the Blind Pets,  By the time they started the place had almost tripled in attendance.

Now pay close attention cause this is where all hell breaks loose. After the Blind Pets had played their equipment remained in the ring as I had worked it out with them and the Death Set that the DS was just gonna show up and plug in as they were coming straight from another show to play ours and everyone was in agreement that the Death Set would just play on their equipment. The spot was about to be blown up – here’s how:

I had a million people a second stopping me to talk to me or somebody needed something or my supervision, so much so that I didn’t even recognize Robyn when she came in with the band until she grabs me and I snap out of it and start directing them where to load in.

They blew the spot up and insisted on using a mixtape they had just released over the PA (that meant thankfully no more DJ Randy Palmer) Their were now noticeably even more people there to see the Death Set. I could sense Josh’s pride/ego ticking away like a timebomb. Here was a band playing his town on his equipment and I could feel his who-the-fuck-do-they-think-they-are vibe so when the Death Set were not happy that all we had was beer and asked for champagne I thought he was gonna spontaneously combust.

Once again, my team to the rescue, I told her what I needed and again in a flash, they returned with the bottles of champagne I had asked for, and sadly didn’t even get to partake in any of it or even the toast that she deserved to be a part of, for they had to return to immediately assist the bartender.

Ok, ring the bell son, the Death Set are climbing in and here we go – just as I had anticipated/wanted – the band instructs the crowd to get into the ring with them and go freaking nuts, and that’s exactly what happened.

It was all happening, my dream was coming true, my vision was being realized, it looked exactly as I thought/hoped it would.
All for about 40 mins that is –
Here is how it went down –

The Death Set start playing and of course as expected/encouraged, they invite the entire crowd on the floor to join them in the boxing ring for a crazy, memorable time. Mr. Palmer, apparently forgets the conversations we had about this and starts losing his mind. He is in the back on a mic, shouting for people to get out of the ring – ummm..hello? Mr. Palmer, this is why we are here, this is what we came to do, this is why I was willing to have the showcase two miles from downtown – to give people a reason to come and do something different and awesome. Seeing that crowd run into that ring was such an awesome rush and I couldn’t have been happier. Mr. Palmer sends Josh in to do damage control, who is all too happy to bust them up. He makes the crowd leave the ring, but not before stealing the mic Kanye style and bellowing out this gem:

“This is a BOXING RING, not a fucking BOOT RING!! everyone get the fuck out of this ring right now!!”

It was cringe inducing, (no boots in Texas?) and since we live in the information age, something that tasty will not go without its own little meme.

Here is a video someone made of the incident labeling Josh with the new moniker of Boot Nazi –

I’m hearing this from outside as I’m dealing with another crisis – Before I walk in Josh comes running out to find me and starts screaming at the top of his lungs of his desire to smack the singer in the mouth. Apparently Johnny had told him to fuck off or something, or whatever it was etc.
I go back in and reach an agreement that if they take their shoes off, everyone can go back in.
The show resumes for about 20 more minutes.
During that entire time, Josh and company are having full blown anxiety that the band/crowd are harming/potentially harming their equipment etc.
Personally I was standing on the steps of the ring in front of the equipment and saw zero signs of impending doom or I would have seen it and done something about it.
Suddenly power is cut (during Negative Thinking no less) to all of our surprise –

Alot had been said about this, online and in the press and in several interviews I’ve given about the event, about what really went down, and let me set the record straight. I didn’t learn (though I had a sneaking suspicion) till weeks later, that Justin, the Blind Pets bass player was behind the ring where the power source was and he cut the power at Josh’s direction. There you have it – plain and simple.
The Blind Pets did not like the Death Set – resented sharing their equipment with them/the Death Set being the bigger draw/ and a cultural clash of North vs South attitudes.
The ring was not being torn up nor was their equipment in danger or being abused – it was simply ego/attitude/pride.

I jumped in immediately to try to restore order, but by that time the band was just exhausted (this was their third show of the day and their 10th in three days) and this was the last one before they got to go home, so they weren’t really in the mood to fight over it and said fuck it. I do not blame them.

The Death Set and Robyn were nothing but courteous to me and thanked us for having them and we all agreed to laugh about it over a drink next week in NYC. I got a car service to take them straight to the airport, and thanked them for stepping literally in the ring with us.

Sadly this created a vibe that the whole event was over, so I scrambled to get on the mic and remind people that we still had three more bands and as many kegs to consume and this seemed to surge the crowd a bit. The House Harkonnen were up next.

This is a band that I greatly admire, who I feel is ready for national stardom if they want it and are about as good as it gets. Their were alot of people there to see them and I myself was excited and have been championing this band for weeks. Tonight there was a certain swagger that I felt was completely circumstantial of the events of the evening. Like their was something like, “this whole thing is fucked, so we are gonna go down swinging and tear this fucking place apart” . Like the agenda had changed from to entertain to downright maim.
This was evident in the size and volume of power they brought with them – that they used with wild abandon. They weren’t gonna mess with the boxing ring shenanigans and started setting up enough amps to rock a stadium. This picture with the sound guy says it all –

They hadn’t gotten two songs in where they were so loud people were fleeing outside, and with the people gathering outside and the traffic of the door it attracted the attention of some inspectors in the area that jumped on us like white on rice. They talk to Mr. Palmer first, who was totally inebriated and then they came found me. I showed them the permits that I had secured which they went over with a fine tooth comb, and finally gave up and left. Somebody (Randy?) said something to them they didn’t like as they were leaving. I had a feeling that this wasn’t gonna be the last of them and I was right.

The band keeps rocking but their are more people outside than in, all with open containers and the band is so loud the walls are breathing, and about 10 mins after the inspectors left, here come the police. Several people immediately bail and the police run me through the whole procedure again, while telling the band to stop playing. I show them the same permits, but they don’t seem to care. They seem to especially have a problem with Mr. Palmer, who was cool with them, but it wasn’t enough to salvage the evening.Threats of issuing expensive tickets are made and that was enough to permanently end the evening.

I felt the most for Wildstreet, who traveled the furthest, and who are my com-padres back in NYC. Who had come all this way, just to play this show. Thankfully they were able to get some pickup dates and get introduced to the festival, so it wasn’t a total loss, but this was supposed to be the crown jewel and their were alot of people their interested in them.

One of my favorite lines of the evening came from Matt (who has Motley Crue lyrics tattooed on his body) when the Wildstreet guys were coming in, he looks at me and says “Dude who the fuck are these guys? they look like something I’m gonna enjoy”.
Too bad he didn’t get that chance.

I woke up the next day and we are all over the press – the freaking Village Voice listed us in their Top 10 events of the festival just under Kanye and Jay-Z (hey we’ll take it).

Thanks again everybody, we will be back next year with something even more irresistible to the police.