SXSW Day 2: Can ya dig it?

After being embarrassed into it by Jason Killingsworth, Paste’s music editor (whose out-of-office messages deserve coffee-table book treatment), I’m hereby retiring my tired colloquialism for SXSW: “Music Industry Spring Break” Instead, I’ll be using one sure to be just as tired very soon, but as a pastor’s kid it resonates with me—“Church Camp For Music Geeks.”

And for the third year straight, “camp” continued on a high note. (Though the day was darkened by the news that Rodrigo Sanchez, of up-and-coming ATO duo Rodrigo y Gabriela, had been held up at the Mexican border by U.S. Homeland Security, since his name was the same as someone barred from entering the country. As a result, the band had to cancel its SXSW appearances. Can we begin a program to educate our border agents about good music, please? This is ridiculous.)

These program notes made, it’s on to the music. My day began at the Rhapsody party at the Mohawk, which boasted a fairly unbeatable afternoon of music. (Had it not been for obligations elsewhere, I might just have camped out there until the evening.)

Having gotten too late of a start to catch L.A. guitar-pop outfit The Broken West, I arrived as Sweden’s Loney, Dear took the stage. As perfect as Emil Svanängen’s recordings are (he usually plays and records everything himself) the songs translated themselves well to a band, as Svanängen brought four other musicians to flesh out the sound. Can you think of a better accompaniment to a sunny, breezy Texas afternoon in the spring?

Loney, Dear

Tearing myself away after Loney, Dear’s set (but not before visiting with Emil—very nice guy—and feasting on the catered Mexican spread the Rhapsody folks had thoughtfully provided) I zipped to the convention center for a podcast interview with the dreamy pop band Softlightes, from San Diego. I was expecting only bandleader Ron Fountenberry (who was sporting a terrific, low-key mohawk), but the entire band decided to come down as well. So we put percussionist Tim Fogarty to work playing brushes on Ron’s guitar case and tapping his foot on a tambourine as we recorded two acoustic songs.

Then it was back up Red River to Club de Ville for the mandatory annual stop at the New West party, where I caught a few quick songs from Jason Isbell (of Drive-By Truckers fame) before heading back next door to rejoin the Rhapsody party, just in time for Robyn Hitchcock & Peter Buck (joined by Sean Nelson from Seattle’s Harvey Danger on vocals and percussion). I’ve listened to Robyn’s music for about 20 years now, which may make me feel old, but the music is anything but—I never get tired of it… or of Hitchcock’s boundless wit. And as for Peter, given that I’d seen him a week ago in Athens at a My Morning Jacket show, on TV Monday from New York as R.E.M. was inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall Of Fame and now here in Austin, it’s safe to say the man has had quite the busy week.

Robyn Hitchcock & Peter Buck

During the downtime between sets I visited with accomplished writer/editor—and Rhapsody employee—Jaan Uhelzski, who, along with VH1’s Bill Flanagan, is one of my favorite interviewers. I want to grow up to be either one of them. I also spotted New York comedian Eugene Mirman in the crowd and had a nice visit with him before the music resumed.

Every year at SXSW there’s one band who’s playing so much that if you miss them, you’re actively avoiding them. This year Sweden’s Peter Bjorn & John was that band and, naturally, they were up next. Their music is 60s-inspired pop, reminiscent of pals The Concretes, but with a noisier edge, and live, they were much more of a rock band than one might have expected.

Peter Bjorn and John

After dinner at Moonshine (a restaurant I want to tow back home to Atlanta) with the friendly press crew from Chicago’s Touch & Go/Quarterstick records, it was pedicab away! in a possibly fruitless attempt to get in to Antone’s 20 minutes after the Stax 50th Anniversary celebration had gotten rolling. Quickly hopping out and surveying lines around the block, my heart sank. But I got in the (shorter) badge line, hoping against hope. Just as I did, a staffer with a clicker counted the heads in front of me: “18, 19, 20… and that fills the room,” and as he said “20” I noticed he was pointing at me. “Must be living right,” I thought, as I squeezed my way into the room to the sound of Booker T & The MGs, who were later joined by William Bell and Eddie Floyd. Then, finally, to the delight of every human sardine in the room, Isaac Hayes joined the group onstage for an Otis Redding-dedicated performance of “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay,” co-written by the man on guitar, the legendary Steve Cropper.

Booker T and the MGs with the Memphis Horns, William Bell, Eddie Floyd and Isaac Hayes

And as Monty Python used to say, “Now for something completely different.” From Antone’s it was a long walk across town to Elysium (probably should have sprung for another cab) to see electronic music pioneer Thomas Dolby, who had just begun set-closer (and crowd-pleaser) “She Blinded Me With Science” as I hit the door. But Dolby ended up getting that SXSW rarity, an encore, returning for “Hyperactive,” which made me feel a bit better about my long walk.

Thomas Dolby

Long walks over for the night, I then took a few steps around the corner to Emo’s (and its lovely, view-blocking support posts) for Dengue Fever, a band that churns out ’60s style psychedelic pop (Farfisa organ mandatory) with lyrics mostly Khmer, sung by the lovely Chhom Nimol, a Cambodia-to-L.A. transplant. They’ll likely never be pop stars, but the band embodies so much of what I enjoy about SXSW and music in general—the willingness to experiment and try new things. And did I mention that they’re absolutely explosive live? Yeah.

Dengue Fever

Getting bad information that Amy Winehouse had cancelled her SXSW appearances (turns out it was only the day parties) I skipped the line at Eternal to see Montreal’s Land of Talk, who’ll be a Paste Four To Watch artist in the May issue. Land of Talk appealingly mix vocals reminiscent of the Cardigans’ Nina Persson with a noisy rock attack of perhaps the Breeders or (at times) Sonic Youth. And, most importantly, their songs are a cut above, with hooks galore.

Land of Talk

I ended my evening back at Elysium, for the unclassifiable but charismatic Kenna, hailing from Ethiopia by way of Virginia Beach. Kenna, the subject of a chapter in Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink about how music-industry types can be lured into making bad decisions, makes electronic-flavored pop that’s difficult to put neatly in any stylistic box, which probably accounts for the difficulty in him breaking through to a broader audience. Politics aside, this guy could actually be a pop star with the right promotion. Here’s hoping it finally happens for him.

Kenna