Wednesday - March 15, 2006

We now magically jump ahead to the Austin phase of the trip since I doubt anyone wants to hear the boring details of family barbecues and the like. If you want to see some quality photos of the SXSW music festival, I would recommend going to my friend Buzz's Flickr page here - http://www.flickr.com/photos/ldandersen/sets/72057594087071768/

If you would like to see complete and utter crap photos, just keep reading this weblog...

5:00 PM
Arrived in Austin (after a being delayed in the Phoenix Sky Harbor airport for an hour and a half because of a snow storm in Salt Lake City...) and was immediately off to listen to the muzak.

Envelopes
8:00 PM
This band was, perhaps, the wisest choice to begin the grand music festival - the consistent level of suckage that these guys maintained ensured that it all had to be uphill from there. Simply put, the noises that were being emitted from their instruments could barely be called music. I mean, I don't know if guitars can actually vomit, but if they can, that's the sound that they'd make.

We Start Fires
8:30 PM
Technically, I had heard a couple of this band's songs during a sound check before seeing the Envelopes. The group was composed of a trio of pyromaniacal British hotties (and some drummer guy). What more can you ask for out of a band? Well, that and being able to rock out, which they did. In fact, this was the only new band I heard that I found myself singing one of their songs on and off throughout the trip.

As a side note, while watching this band, a young lady from the Miller Lite alcoholic beverage street marketing team asked me to wear a bottle cap pin that had a little red flashing light on it. Loathe as I am to turn down a request from a pretty lady, particularly one in the marketing industry, I consented. Apparently, in addition to having the potential of causing an epileptic fit in certain people, the bottle cap pin also emits a high pitched squeal that causes every balding male over 6ft that happens to have a camera on them to stand immediately in front of it. Literally moments after the pin was on me, five tall, folically-challenged photographers were standing within five feet of me, taking pictures of the band. I am presently determining how to use this little gem for maximum entertainment - I'm thinking that it will either involve the light rail or a high school archery practice.

The Czars
10:00 PM
If the actual Russian czars were as terrible as this Denver band, I can kind of understand why the Russian people were so quick to embrace Communism.

The Flaming Lips
11:00 PM
This was a "Special Guest" that wasn't officially on the SXSW band list, but if you knew someone in the "know," then you had heard about it. Luckily, my friend Buzz was one of those in the "know." As their set began, I thought that I would merely be summarizing this entry with three simple words - Bohemian Rhapsody cover.

However, I quickly realized that such a brief commentary would do short shrift to the event. You see, these gentlemen are the Carrot Tops of the music scene. (By using the term "Carrot Top," I don't mean that they had bright red hair and suck beyond human comprehension. I mean that they have an obsession with props, an obsession to the point of excess beyond the Romans before the fall of Pompey.) Amidst singing about little "silhouettos" and pulling "triggers," the band released a flurry of ginormous (sic) balloons that were freakish in size...you know, like Abe Lincoln or Andre the Giant. Add to this a green-fog emitting megaphone, spray-painted Hulk hands and a barnyard animal sound board that was wired...for sound. It was a good show; however, they chose to end it with a horrible Black Sabbath cover that could have only been more awful if they had brought in the real Carrot Top to sing it.

Oh yeah, and a guy somehow talked the band into letting him on stage so that he could propose to his girlfriend.

Also, the aforementioned Buzz (he's getting mentioned a lot here) used the press pass he had scored to get up onto the actual stage and take pictures - http://www.flickr.com/photos/ldandersen/113247285/in/photostream/

Of Montreal
12:00 AM
The only reason we saw these guys was because we were waiting to see the Trail of Dead. All I really have to say is that they are a band called "Of Montreal," and they are from Atlanta, GA. Brain surgeons, they are not.

They do love their bass though. During their set, I could feel various portions of my anatomy resonating with the driving tones of their music. My pants would also routinely vibrate when the band really got going. Apparently their music operates at the appropriate frequency to excite the outermost electrons of denimium particles (the primary element used in the smelting of jeans) to the next shell level.

Standing around waiting for - And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
1:00 AM
The house music is excruciating...am considering hanging myself with my Boba Fett hoodie to stop the pain.

Still standing around waiting for - And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
1:15 AM
They've started the sound check. It's bound to start soon.

Still, still standing around waiting for - And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
1:25 AM
Man. With such an extended sound check, these guys must really be concerned about making sure that everything sounds great.

And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
1:35 AM
Or not...Now perhaps I was expecting a little too much out of these guys. Over the past several years, I have heard several people comment on how entertaining they had been live and about their tendency to break equipment on stage. And, admittedly, they were down a keyboardist for the show, but man did they really work hard at sucking. Not only were they playing off time and key, but the lead singer was flat for almost every song.

The one highlight was the drummer. I have seen some people go to town on drums before, but you don't hit a drum as hard as this guy unless you have an agenda. I don't know if one touched him inappropriately at camp one summer or if one killed his family, but you really have to have something against drums to beat one like this guy did.