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Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Jim Connelly's
Favorite Recordings Of 2006
Monday, January 15, 2007
Jesse Steichen's Favorite Recordings Of 2006
Friday, January 12, 2007
Bill Bentley's Favorite Recordings Of 2006
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Tom Ridge's Favorite Recordings Of 2006
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Lee Templeton's Favorite Recordings Of 2006
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Anthony Carew's 13 Fave Albums Of 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
SXSW 2006: Finding Some Hope In Austin
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Letter From New Orleans
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Jennifer Przybylski's Fave Albums of 2005
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Music For Dwindling Days: Max Schaefer's Fave Recordings Of 2005
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Sean Fennessey's 'Best-Of' 2005
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Lori Miller Barrett's Fave Albums Of 2005
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Lee Templeton's Favorite Recordings of 2005
Thursday, January 5, 2006
Michael Lach - Old Soul Songs For A New World Order
Wednesday, January 4, 2006
Found In Translation — Emme Stone's Year In Music 2005
Tuesday, January 3, 2006
Dave Allen's 'Best-Of' 2005
Monday, January 2, 2006
Steve Gozdecki's Favorite Albums Of 2005
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Johnny Walker Black's Top 10 Of 2005
Monday, December 19, 2005
Neal Block's Favorite Recordings Of 2005
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Jenny Tatone's Year In Review
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Dave Renard's Fave Recordings Of 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
Jennifer Kelly's Fave Recordings Of 2005
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Tom Ridge's Favorite Recordings Of 2005
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Ben Gook's Beloved Albums Of 2005
Monday, December 5, 2005
Anthony Carew's Fave Albums Of 2005
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Prince, Spoon And The Magic Of The Dead Stop
Monday, September 12, 2005
The Truth About America
Monday, September 5, 2005
Tryin' To Wash Us Away
Monday, August 1, 2005
A Psyche-Folk Heat Wave In Western Massachusetts
Monday, July 18, 2005
Soggy But Happy At Glastonbury 2005
Monday, April 4, 2005
The SXSW Experience, Part 3: All Together Now
Friday, April 1, 2005
The SXSW Experience, Part 2: Dr. Dog's Happy Chords
Thursday, March 31, 2005
The SXSW Experience, Part 1: Waiting, Waiting And More Waiting
Friday, March 25, 2005
Final Day At SXSW's Charnel House
Monday, March 21, 2005
Day Three At SXSW
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Day Two In SXSW's Hall Of Mirrors
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Report #1: SXSW 2005 And Its Hall Of Mirrors
Monday, February 14, 2005
Matt Landry's Fave Recordings Of 2004
Wednesday, February 2, 2005
David Howie's 'Moments' From The Year 2004
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Lori Miller Barrett's Fave Recordings Of 2004
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Noah Bonaparte's Fave Recordings Of 2004
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Kevin John's Fave Albums Of 2004
Friday, January 14, 2005
Music For Those Nights: Max Schaefer's Fave Recordings Of 2004
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Dave Renard's Fave Recordings Of 2004
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Neal Block's Top Ten Of 2004
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Jenny Tatone's Fave Albums Of 2004
Monday, January 10, 2005
Wayne Robins' Top Ten Of 2004
Friday, January 7, 2005
Brian Orloff's Fave Albums Of 2004
Thursday, January 6, 2005
Johnny Walker (Black)'s Top 10 Of 2004
Wednesday, January 5, 2005
Jennifer Przybylski's Fave Albums (And Book) Of 2004
Tuesday, January 4, 2005
Mark Mordue's Fave Albums Of 2004
Monday, January 3, 2005
Lee Templeton's Fave Recordings Of 2004
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Wednesday, March 27, 2002
Letter From Austin: Finding Community At SXSW, Part Three
Neumu's Jenny Tatone writes: Yes, I left Texas together. But without regrets? Not exactly.
Short days of back-to-back speakers at the convention center quickly turned to long nights of back-to-back bands at venues scattered like dice along dusty concrete — and the odds weren't always in my favor.
At SXSW, I learned you've got to have a system if you want to make the most of it. Dozens of bands perform each night; if you don't play it just right, you miss the ones you want to see and see the ones you don't.
True, most clubs are located conveniently close to one another. You might think it's safe to assume you can hop from one joint to the other without missing a beat. Not so, my friend. You've got to calculate time spent en route and time spent in lines — sometimes very long lines. You've got to remember timeliness is not a priority for artists. You've got to weigh the relative importance of carrying on a conversation or catching the next gig. And sometimes, if you came down alone like I did, meeting someone means a lot more than watching another band — alone.
I didn't beat the system until my last night in Austin — just when I was ready for more! Go figure, right?
So, it's Thursday evening — my first crack at the overlapping complexities of the music schedule (remember: Wednesday was a — sniff-sniff — write-off). Neat little band list in hand, I know which artists are playing when and where I need to be for each. Piece of cake, they're all lined up. Boom-boom-boom — one by one — knock 'em down. Easy enough ... or so I thought.
Arriving early enough to miss the long line that would soon slither to the end of the block, I was right on time. Holly Golightly — an English garage-rock singer/songwriter who now lives in San Francisco — was to perform at 9 p.m. Entering through Emo's Main Room, I stopped quickly to grab a gin and club soda before finding my way into the outdoor courtyard, which separates Emo's Main Room from Emo's Jr. With picnic tables and an outdoor bar, the courtyard was a much-loved retreat — what a breath of fresh air, literally. While Emo's Main Room has a warehouse feel with its spaciousness and multiple levels, Emo's Jr. feels more claustrophobic with its low ceilings and cramped space. The dive-y club has the feel of a tavern, and seems to entice the punk rock and hipster crowds alike.
I don't know what happened to Golightly. I waited for a good 20 minutes. Apparently she had played early and I'd missed her. "I still have time to catch Pretty Girls Make Graves," I told myself as I crossed the street to the even more cramped, but not so crowded, Room 710. No band was on stage when I pulled up a stool to the oversized circular-shaped bar, which stands like a parasol in the middle of the club and unites the front room to the back, where the stage is located. I sat and waited patiently until I overheard the bartender tell a patron that Pretty Girls — an abrasive post-punk Seattle band — had just finished playing. "Shhhit," I mumbled beneath my breath. Strike two. I was down — but with hundreds to go, certainly not out.
It's the domino effect — one foul-up causes another. This would not be the last frustrating time I'd miss out. Holly Golightly eliminated my chance of seeing Pretty Girls Make Graves, Dead Low Tide knocked out Mooney Suzuki and Chicks on Speed won out over Clinic. Then the Catheters struck out the Immortal Lee County Killers while Cherry Valence beat the Briefs. Choices, choices — it couldn't be more frustrating ... or more fun!
And remember: It wasn't necessarily a battle of the bands. Sometimes it was about the people you met and the bands starred on their lists. Just like life, you ended up missing the expected and catching the unexpected — some disappointing "should have" and "could have," the rest serendipity's happy accidents. Like Pop always said, you win some, you lose some.
During the course of my three humid evenings of sensory overload, street-walking and badge-bragging in Austin, I spent an unreasonable amount of time at Emo's (both of 'em) and caught some mind-blowing and -altering acts. Here, I saw the powerful, seductive blues-y rock of Detroit's Von Bondies and the erratic, stop-start beats and high-pitched rapping of Germany's Chicks on Speed. I was also a lucky audience member at the so-loud-I-want-to-puke-yet-I-will-risk-my-hearing-for-this hard rock of Cherry Valence from Raleigh, N.C., and a quirky puppet show by the equally wacky and creative Quintron and Miss Pussycat from New Orleans.
Likely my second most-frequented club was Room 710. Slouching just off 6th Street on Red River Road, the small, dark joint will be best remembered for the merry-go-round bar and the ultra-minimal crowd space. But, most importantly, I'll remember this joint for housing some of the best SXSW acts, including the explosive, shrieking punk rock of Seattle's The Catheters, The Nerves from Chicago and Toronto's Deadly Snakes.
By far my best live experience at SXSW was the Yeah Yeah Yeahs'
second, secret performance at the quaint, café-style Hickory
St. Bar & Grill. Saturday's unscheduled show, found only by word of
mouth, was far more up close and personal than Friday's advertised
show at La Zona Rosa — a much larger, warehouse-like venue where
I could barely see the three energetic New Yorkers onstage. But on
the small outdoor stage, about two feet tall with a tree-branched
ceiling, I could watch the raw punk-rock group so deeply immersed in
their sound, so passionate about the music, I had to be the same. And
those who, like me, had gotten word of this performance seemed
equally lost in the music. With guitarist Nick Zinner and drummer
Brian Chase keeping mostly to themselves, lead singer Karen O. was
definitely the star attraction, wearing dark blue jeans and an
undersized off-white thrift store sweater with hearts across the
chest (it looked very 1977, fitting the trio's sound). Her short,
shaggy black hair fell around her pale face; when she smiled, shook
and pulled at a beer bottle with such sexiness and silliness, you
couldn't help but be drawn in. She's cute, but with an obvious and
entertaining control over the crowd. You know she's toying with you.
Now, home in Portland and looking back, I relish the bands I witnessed and kick myself over the ones I missed. So maybe I didn't roll snake eyes. But they say hindsight is 20/20. Boom-boom-boom — I am so ready for you, SXSW 2003!
The InsiderOne Daily
Report appears on Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 9 AM PST, except when it doesn't.
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