SXSW #4

By Friday morning, the plucky staff of The Daily Wenzel needed some time to recharge. Down on sleep, we called for a late morning before heading off to see the trade show, check out the posters and artwork available at Flatstock, sit in on a session about the future of Digital Music, and of course, check out a couple of bands. Perhaps most surprising was the Buzzcocks. Generally, we are not fond of old punk bands reuniting and trading in on our nostalgia. We do not want them to relive their youth so that we can relive ours. We would rather move forward, culturally speaking, and find new ways of saying things that resonate with these times. The shock of the Buzzcocks though, was just how timely the music actually was – they sounded every bit as vital as they did twenty years ago. Perhaps that’s something of an indictment on the current crop of punk bands. Certainly, somewhere out there are bands that would level the Buzzcocks like the old men they are (Adam Kamis of CJSW and Broken City swears that 400 Blows could do it), but in general, the Buzzcocks are more than likely to crush what passes for most people as punk.

Other bands that we saw while hanging around the Convention Center were the Polyphonic Spree and Daniel Johnston and his Nightmares. We were a little puzzled by the attraction of Johnston, a sort of Neil Young character back by much younger men and women, but the Polyphonic Spree made an impression. We had actually passed the backup singers for the Spree in the hallway earlier in the day. They were practicing their “dance” routines, and we mistook them for girls from the previous night’s roller derby. One of the things that caught our attention, was not just the similarity of the Polyphonic Spree to the Flaming Lips, but also the debt that the Arcade Fire owe to the Spree. Many people have commented on a connection between the Arcade Fire and Belle & Sebastian, a link that we see, but never really made us comfortable. After seeing the Polyphonic Spree, their influence seems fare more important, even if the Arcade Fire have twisted it and made it somewhat darker.

Popping out for a bite to eat brought us to the Pure Ultra-Lounge, where Maritime were setting up shop. Having been passed recommendations by various eastern seabord media outlets, we stopped to check them out. Despite having virtually no stage presence (passing as members of average Joe Public is one thing, but the lead singer actually stopped to answer his cell phone in the middle of the set), we rather enjoyed their songs, but felt they still have quite a ways to go.

We also checked out the rather lacklustre The Annuals, before making our way to Peter, Bjorn & John's second show of SXSW. The Convention Centre halls echoed with the sound of people whistling the melody from "Don't Care About Young Folks", which seems to be one of the top singles of this year's SXSW. As is the way of SXSW, the conclusion of the PB&J show saw us rush off to Stubbs to try and catch Andrew Bird's show. Despite the line-up, we managed to catch the last few impressive songs.

Not recognizing the next band, we made our way to the back of the crowd to touch base with other folks who were feeding us updates on other shows, when the next set began. We asked a Swedish journalist next to us who happend to be holding a SXSW schedule, the name of the next band and he shrugged, saying "The Perry Farrell Featherlife Family". We turned around and saw Perry Farrell, of Jane's Addication and Porno for Pyros, shaking his shiny, silver clad booty at the audience. We, and the bikers to our otherside, were completely taken aback. None of us knew if this was satire, self-parody, or part of Farrell's new age seriousness. It was bizarre, it was riveting. Checking Bands, Blogs, and Buzz the next day revealed that we were not the only ones fascinated by this apparent trainwreck. Did we mention he wore a sweater? Or that he had a go-go girl in a one-piece mini-skirt outfit? That he called us his brothers and sisters and offered to do unspeakable things for every member of the audience if only he had the time?

Perry Farrell was followed up by Badly Drawn Boy, who we normally like, but appeared to have a very off night. He lost his train of thought several times, appeared awkward in front of his audience, stopping and starting the same song several times. Despite this, he closed with a cover of Foreigner's "Don't Stop Believing" and the crowd loved him for it.

The highlight of the night, and indeed perhaps the festival, was Damon Albarn's The Good, The Bad, and The Queen, who we must admit was almost upstaged by the ever stylish ex-Clash bass player, Paul Simonon. However, Albarn's ability to craft a musical world and populate it with people, history , and details, is a force to be reckoned with. The show was subtle and sophisticated, less a gig than a dramatic musical production. Someone suggested to us that The Good, The Bad, and The Queen, was one of the most important albums about Britain to come out of Britain in the last thirty years. Not being British, we don't feel that we can really agree, but we certainly aren't going to go out of our way to disagree.