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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.

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.

SXSWeeeeeeeeesssttt: Day One

Wednesdays at SXSW is when most music folks get here. Everyone's excited, wandering around overwhelmed with the possibility of 1,500 bands. Already, you start listening for the buzzwords. Last year it was Amy Winehouse; this year, still TBD. (Although we do keep hearing people discuss the Rachael Ray day party with amused disbelief. Who doesn't love a hipster who's not sure if something's ironic or not? It's just so cute.)

Wednesday Bric-a-Brac

As I type these words, certain unnamed Scene staffers are en route to Austin. Janet's already there and has already consumed a "chicken fried avocado." If, like Sullivan and me, you are not going to mess with Texas this week, whether by choice or by the cruelty of the rock gods, go ahead and torrent a shit ton of SXSW-related music instead.

If you are going to be in Austin this Friday, March 14, consider checking out the Village Voice party at La Zona Rosa, where ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, The Soundtrack of Our Lives, The Black Keys, The Cribs & Health will be performing free of charge. That's at 612 W. Fourth St. High noon.

Meanwhile, yewknee's got the new Elizabeth GRACE (née Forget Cassettes) info for ya. Or you could go listen to the Neon Philharmonic song "Morning Girl." Or check out Solartron, the syntheremintar.

SXSW: The Casio Way

Well, it certainly must be nice not only to be able to afford one of those coveted, laminated functional keepsake badges and a plane ticket, but also to have a sweet job that doesn't mind you bailing for a week of bands, parties, BBQ and schmoozing in the self-proclaimed "live music capital of the world.” But for the rest of us working stiffs who've been left behind, playing in bands who are hardly showcase material and struggling to be content with yet another average week in Nashville, drumming up the funds and free time for a trip to Austin is much easier said than done.

Well, that's where I come in, the Scene's own vagrant journalist riding high on the winds of rumor and opportunity. I quit yet another dead-end job last week, talked a friend into driving and covering the expense on her daddy's gas card—and procured a giant list of all things free at SXSW: parties, showcases, food, beer, etc. If it costs not a dime, I shall be there on time. And thus, you'll be getting the back door, 25 cent, working boy's outsider perspective on the festival, alongside that of the Scene's official representatives. I'll be scamming free grub, catching all the free shows, sleeping on sofas, making futile attempts to seduce record-label interns, and will document it here in the event this interests you.

So with that, I must be off. Austin is a long-ass drive from here....