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This Way to Your Urinal, Sir...

As one of the few but enthusiastic folks who attended The Nobility show at Exit/In last night, there's something I couldn't help but notice shortly after I arrived upon entering the men's room. Maybe in an effort to class up the joint, Exit/In now employs the services of a bathroom attendant. I walked in and immediately noticed a well-dressed, cleanly scrubbed gentleman against the wall to my right and the smell of Dragon's Blood incense wafting about my nose (I actually don't mind the incense as much). I'm not exactly one of those people who absolutely can't pee with someone watching them, but I will say that the process did go a little slower than usual given the fact that this whole scenario was downright awkward to me. I finished my business and watched him scurry over to the sink to pump soap in my hands, provide a towel with which I could dry them, and offer to spray me with a selection of colognes and body sprays (I chose Axe).

I Don't Feel Tardy Even as I Post This Two Weeks Too Late

Remember SXSW? Remember that 763 MP3 dude? Well, the dude was Paul Ford, and the conceit was this: He didn't go to SXSW, but he listened to every MP3 on the official SXSW site and wrote six-word reviews of each band. I kept meaning to post it back when it was, you know, actually relevant. But I forgot, and then someone sent me an old link from a write-up on local blog Page 300 that highlighted some of the Nashville bands covered, and I couldn't resist.

Alex Khoury - "This guitarist has too many feelings."
Be Your Own Pet - "Punky ladies* sing goofy bicycle ditty."

It would be easy to dismiss such an approach as lazy, and yet, he did listen to all 763 MP3s, and there's something innately drive-by shooting about the way you have to absorb these festivals anyway. Some of the write-ups are dismissive and even kinda mean, and of course that makes them hilarious. Houston Press interviewed Ford here about the experience, and one particularly stand-out conclusion Ford drew from the whole experience was this: "The problem is nobody’s bad anymore. The production’s all really good. It’s just there’s this overwhelming banality which is just like everything else in culture."

By the way, he's not just some random dude, he's on All Things Considered and is also apparently an editor at Harper's.

*Ha.

SXSW: The Casio Way, pt. 3: The Good Times are Killing Me

How Awesome is Austin? Instead of the traditional "Don't Walk" hand sign, the crosswalks here threaten you with "The Shocker."

By the fourth and final day of my freebie SXSW excursion, the life and adventures of being a homeless, binge-drinking freeloader were starting to slow me down a little. Activities were a little more spread out, drinks were a little more infrequent, but the good times were in no shorter supply. I will also note that given the lack of a home base, recharging my camera was damn near impossible, but I documented the day's events as best I could.

SXSW Day Three: Feeling Hot Hot Hot

Friday dawned hot in Texas. Big-time hot. High-of-92-degrees hot. Our first show of the day was a quick stop at the Next Big Nashville shindig to see Caitlin Rose. She wowed as usual—even if that first beer went down a little rough. Jason Moon Wilkins put on a chill party in a great venue, and we hear it got pretty packed later in the day.

St. Patrick's Day Is Canceled, Leprechaun in Tree Could be Crackhead

That's right, the beer industry's favorite holiday is canceled. Technically, you're not supposed to celebrate a saint's day during Holy Week. But since my devotion to Catholicism stopped shortly after birth, I'll be partying at 8 off 8th over at the Mercy Lounge, like the good little pagan you all know and love. More details and loving tributes to Leprechaun in the Hood after the jump...

SXSW: The Casio Way, Pt. 2: Who Loves the Sun?

Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? Har Mar Superstar in action

The past two days here in Austin have been a sloppy, sun-soaked whirlwind of booze, noise and the hot hot heat. The conditions out here are brutal, my friends. The sidewalks are unforgiving, the lines are long, and the heat is relentless. Much like an alcoholic parent, our benevolent sun may be the source of all life, but it also has a knack for making you wish you were dead. This brutal bastard has left his calling card directly on my face in the form of a bright-red burn that gets called to my attention by someone at least every five minutes. That cheesy novelty hit from the late '90s may be annoying and forgettable, but its lesson is no less valuable: Always wear sunscreen, folks.

SXSW Day Two: Pot O' Gold

Yesterday I hit the jackpot. Big-time. OK, let me tell you how it all went down.

I awoke with the dawn and slaved over a transcendent blog post, then headed down to Sixth Street to start my day. There were a bunch of shows that looked promising, including The Onion AV Club Party and a mysterious NPR show that you needed an invite to attend, and that I didn't think I had a shot in hell of getting into.

So, I'm strolling along, head buried in a list of potential daytime parties when I happened upon this sight. It’s a line. A big line…

SXSW: Friday I'm in Love

So Stabert and I have noticed that everywhere we go, we see Richie Kirkpatrick from Ghostfinger—not the actual dude, but throngs of his look-alikes. Yesterday alone, I saw four of them at Emo's while catching Constantines, Shout Out Louds and Tokyo Police Club. Then last night, on the way to see Jens Lekman, we saw two more of these wry, mustache-sporting, sometimes-bandanna-wearing dark-haired dudes with charisma. We're compiling snapshots for a full report.

On the show front, Tokyo Police Club were playing The Onion AV Club party, which was drenched in indie rockers from all walks of life. That is to say, there were indie rockers who like Tokyo Police Club, and indie rockers who like the Shout Out Louds. TPC, who said they were taking the stage at Emo's for the third time, were just as energetic as when I'd seen them the previous year at SXSW, but the drummer dropped the old timing ball and kept lagging behind the whole show this time. It actually kinda blew a little bit. But the songs are terrific, spastic little doses of jangly post-punk, and I think it was just an off show for them. They'd occasionally bring it back with a hand-clapping audience of accomplices, but whenever the drums were marching terribly to their own beat, I just had to look away.

SXSW: The Casio Way, pt. 1: Texas is the Reason...

It was a continuous 13-hour drive that ended around 10 a.m. when we finally rolled into Austin, bloodshot and incredibly road-weary. We sought refuge in the welcoming and hospitable patio of the Spider House Cafe still suffering the effects of highway hypnosis/Red Bull psychosis, the antidote for which I decided was several pints of modestly priced, locally brewed Lone Star beer. There's a chance I was hallucinating, but I'm pretty sure Christopher Mintz-Plasse - a.k.a. McLovin from Superbad - was sitting at the table across from me.

SXSW Day One: Put This One in the Books

Last night was my first-ever night of SXSW, or as it shall now be dubbed: The Night of a Thousand Beers.

Highlights: A quirky, endearing set by The Blow, the burrito I ate while sitting on a curb and the 15 minutes of R.E.M. that I caught.

Worst overheard comment:

Scene: The Blow at Emo's. The participants: two dudetastic dudes (T-shirts, vintage sneakers, plastic glasses).

Dude One: This isn't, um, really what I expected.
Dude Two: Yeah, she seems a little out of it. Maybe she's drunk?
Dude One: No, I mean, I thought she'd be hotter.

Today offers a plethora of goodies, so I better get moving. Check out my pictures from yesterday, after the jump.