SXSW: Butchers, rabbits, chicken and Korn

By: Austin L. Ray

Shortly after finishing this post yesterday, I began my walk over the Congress Ave. bridge into downtown Austin. Heading towards our day party, I heard a band playing in a tent and thought, “Why not?” After all, I’ve hoped all week to stumble across a group I’ve never heard of that would blow my mind wide open. As I approached the tent, however, a gruff voice boomed through the PA: “Pretend this is Lollapalooza! And we’re fucking Korn! And we don’t suck!” I kept walking.

Liam Finn delivered on behalf of that anonymous band at our party, though, all without a single reference to Jonathan Davis. The son of Crowded House’s Neil Finn absolutely killed with a guitar, some drums and a joystick. Looping sounds upon sounds with the help of only one musical collaborator, Finn rocked harder than a band four times his size. Very impressive.

Following our party, we had a little Pastegum (StereoPaste?) dinner at Stubb’s. I ate some of the most delicious chicken in the world and chatted with ‘gum writer Brandon Stosuy about a game he played with some Playboy Playmates the night before called “Rock star or porn star?” Unfortunately, you cannot experience the former since it’s in my belly, but you can check out the latter right here.

The Builders and the Butchers are another fine act from our recommendation guide that I wanted to see, and they were worth the walk on a full stomach. The Oregonians boasted two percussionists, acoustic jamming and all sorts of hollers and shouts. Megaphones and horns added to an already entertaining live show. For fans of Langhorne Slim (who, incidentally would play on the same stage later that night).

Impatient after standing in line for a while in the hopes of seeing Eugene Mirman live, I wandered off and ended up at the Kill Rock Stars showcase at Emo’s IV. Panther put on a fairly satisfying set, but as I grew tired of it (after all, there really is a limit to how much dancey indie rock made my skinny white guys with beards that one person can take), I became mesmerized by the crashing cymbals in the band’s drum kit. After wondering to myself just how many cymbals I’d seen over the last few days, I wandered back to Club de Ville.

Langhorne Slim finished up his set amidst claps and trumpet by bringing twentysome people onto the stage for an impromptu, roots-rock dance party. Keeping the momentum up, White Rabbits took the stage next and reminded me that they get better every time I see them. Maturing far beyond their earlier, more derivative style, these boys are truly coming into their own. No wonder they’re Radiohead’s labelmates now.

Dear Thom Yorke,
Take White Rabbits on tour with you.
love,
Paste

Running low on energy, I made a quick stop on the way back to the hotel to see Atlas Sound. As much as I love Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel on record, it’s a whole different beast live. A wash of noisy guitars and various electronic flourishes, the whole thing reminded me of My Bloody Valentine and The Jesus and Mary Chain in the best way possible. I allowed my head to be pummeled by it for a few songs before giving in and going to bed.

One more day party to go…