Oh me, oh my, what to do every day at SXSW - the competing pull of day parties and unofficial showcases and the panels and speakers during the day - and then the night parties and official showcases at night - has me torn like a paper bag full of giveaway matches, condoms, beer bottle openers, and random acts of swag. And outfits and tats and hair. "There's a lot of hair going on," said one girly wag in the elevator at my downtown digs. "And lots of interesting facial hair. We're going shopping." Inspirational! Oh, yes, and music, music, music. Read more »
Contributor Kate Izquierdo blogs on at SXSW; here's her latest report:
By Thursday, the rainstorms had gone, the sun was blazin', and the Black Lips have lost their bass player. In Mexico. No matter, as they bring a good facscimile of their Sandinista flavor replete with a boy-on-boy guitarist make-out session. How can you suck face with a big ass gold grill? Very carefully.
Dusk led us to Jon Langford and Sally Timms "recalling the Mekons," which loosely translated meant playing a few Mekons songs and commenting on how being in a seminal punk band didn't exactly put them on the map. Read more »
Whoa, you really had to catch your breath and race to the Austin Convention Center to catch the major stories, speakerwise, at SXSW. Gilberto Gil took the stage Wednesday midafternoon to talk about tropicalia, new technology, and hip-hop initiatives Brazil has undertaken since he's become the country's Minister of Culture. Read more »
Loved seeing Pete Townshend speak to a near-capacity crowd at the Hilton ballroom early on during SXSW. The guy still has his brain cells intact.
Here are a few excepts from his talk:
"What's to stop us from having a festival at some point, having lets say at SXSW next year, an absolutely international web related moment that looks in all the things that happen, but allows the people out there that can't get here to be here. Read more »
I'm running way behind shchedule today - nursing the first jack 'n' coke of the day, and watching Dirty on Purpose from Brooklyn. It's a wide-open, delay-drenched moodrock, a mercifully good start to Thursday afternoon.
A little C&B, anyone?
We got in last night amidst horror stories of flashflood warnings and t-storms. Read more »
I know what you're thinking. "Oh, poor you - poor you, having to hear so much music, drink so much beer, inhale so much barbecue, and party so hard with all those rock stars, random actors, and piles o' Texans." You can wipe that little sneer off your mug - it's unbecoming, and I see marionette lines in your faded future. Anyhoo, South By Southwest it was. Expect fresh dispatches daily, when I can slog back to a computer, from yours truly and contributor Kate Izquierdo. Read more »
All hail the promiscuous creative and collaborative imagination of Chelonis R. Jones. He recently teamed up with Marc Romboy on the sick single “Helen Cornell,” a slice of voice-over-beats that is bettered only by Jones’s “Black Sabrina” in terms of fierceness. Read more »
Guardian intern Sam Devine weighs in on this weekend's Dustfish Burning Man camp benefit:
The Oakland Police Department busted the Dustfish Burning Man camp benefit party Sunday, March 11, early in the morning. It was a massive party of 3,000 in a warehouse on Mandela Parkway. The building was so huge that a charter bus company, seemingly indifferent to the bash, was coming and going from another part of the warehouse.
Thelony on Rye opened, playing strange, noisy bebop. Then came Dr. Abacus, playing a similar but grooving jazz that had the room jitterbugging and hopping around. Read more »