"Who'd You See?" and Other Tales Told at SXSW 2002
by Ron Davis

Last weekend, the entire music industry converged on Austin, Texas, for this year's version of South by Southwest. How many bands played? Well, just to give you an idea, the SXSW website lists numerous bands going by some form of the name Special Guests. Combined with the festival's film and new media concerns, the music scene at SXSW is enough to make your head spin. So with the event's sprawling nature in mind, I've taken the easy way out and broken off favorite SXSW 2002 memories into easily digestible bits. Enjoy the meal. It's a big one.

Best party: Schuba's Roundup at folk-art gallery Yard Dog. Maybe it was the warm yellow sun or the catered BBQ or the plentiful beer ("Sponsored by your friends at Miller!") but Schuba's alt-country-leanin' ho-down was tops. With Clem Snide, The Flashing Lights, Josh Rouse and new-comer Josh Ritter (Ritter filled in for Wilco's Jay Bennett, who canceled) on the bill, the music added even more breezy good vibes to a party that was nearly chock full of them.

Strangest class warfare: Holders of laminated passes, aka "lammies," take the cake. Here's why: Invite-only party throwers like Spin and Capitol print laminated cards that act as the passes for their gigs. They are then distributed to "VIPs" and hang in plain sight from the necks of the hooked-up. And like any class system, this open flaunting of "wealth" breeds envy and contempt from non-pass holders, prompting such spite-filled reports as, "Fuck that guy. He's got like eight lammies!" And this doesn't even begin to go into the wristband (cheaper, less access) versus laminate (much more expensive, full access) battles. Talk about "Lord of the Flies."

Best hotel: The Four Seasons may get all the hype for its Hollywood bar scene, but if you really want to be close to the action and enjoy high style at the same time, the Driskill can't be beat. It's Texas through-and-through (there's a giant longhorn steer head mounted above the lounge fireplace), and being on the corner of Brazos and Sixth Street means you're within a five-minute walk or cab ride of almost every venue.

Show that will precipitate a purchase: I'd avoided them due to their omnipresent buzz and a perceived notion that they were a novelty at the very best, but the Moldy Peaches won me over. Plus singing "Who's Got the Crack?" while pulling into the office parking lot sounds as devilishly subversive as yelling the words to "Fuck the Police" did back in my rebellious high school days.

Best between-set CD: Following the Moldy Peaches blistering performance, the strains of Sparklehorse's "Gold Day" filled the venue. And as Mark Linkous' voice greeted the collective masses with "Good Morning, my child / Stay with me a while" it sounded like both an invitation to stick around for the next set and a heartfelt welcome to SXSW. It couldn't have been more perfect.

Hottest day: Thursday. As my native Minnesota was digging out from a foot of snow, I was getting sunburned in practically sweltering 87 degree heat.

Hottest day: Also Thursday. From Schuba's noontime party with Josh Rouse and The Flashing Lights, to the Capitol showcase complete with Ed Harcourt and Starsailor to evening shows that included John Vanderslice, the Three 4 Tens, The Mendoza Line and Ted Leo, Thursday was certainly a standout.

Best therapeutic activity: By God, sitting was the therapy of choice. After standing on concrete floors at shows for upwards of 12 hours a day, any chance to take a seat was gladly taken. (Note to self: Employ Swedish foot masseuse for next year's fest. Make that two masseuses, one for each foot.)

Best food: Magnolia Café's migas. This Tex Mex breakfast tradition consist of scrambled eggs whipped with jalapenos, red and green peppers, onions, cheese and strips of tortilla chips. That whole mess is then heaped into a refried beans-smeared tortilla and eaten taco-style. Surgeon General's Warning: Migas may be addictive and drain bank accounts due to their known-side effect of causing frequent trips to Austin just to wolf down the dish. (Close second, and I mean millimeters away: Iron Works' beef brisket plate. Like eating perfectly seasoned smoke. In a good way.)

Most underwhelming: Spoon, easily. And this was too bad because I was really looking forward to seeing them, but B-O-R-I-N-G! One of my traveling companions made a great point about the Spooners: "They're the Austin version of the Hang Ups. I like the Hang Ups' records, but I wouldn't cross the street to go to one of their shows."

Most omnipresent act: By far and away, Chicago's OKGO. They should have worn shirts that said "Have Guitars: Will Travel." We, inexplicably, saw their Wednesday La Zona Rosa showcase, their Thursday Capitol party performance and their Friday Blender after-party show. Their two-bit Cheap Trick imitation was equally shitty every time. For example, we had the grave misfortune of catching their note-for-note cover of "Jessie's Girl" two of the three times. Ugh.

Best lights: Starsailor at the Austin Music Hall. Most shows sported the minimalist approach to lighting, but Starsailor's show at the military hangar-sized Hall was greatly enhanced by swirling lights that matched their swaying sound perfectly.

Strangest Courtney Love metaphor: Love, in her rambling, nonsensical panel discussion, compared Pearl Jam lead singer Eddie Vedder to baseball free agency crusader Curt Flood. Sorry Mrs. Cobain, I'm not exactly buying it. Staging a largely unsuccessful fight against Ticketmaster isn't exactly like taking on Amerca's pastime, and though Flood was ultimately successful in his fight, his career was in shambles because of it. Vedder, on the other hand, is still making millions.

Best line from a freestyle: Definitive Jux recording artist and proud owner of one of last year's best hip-hop albums, Aesop Rock, spit this little nugget in his Saturday night performance at La Zona Rosa: "Nine out of 10 journalists misinterpret it / Comparin' me to classic authors I ain't heard a yet." I can still hear the backpackers' "Oooooos" and cheers like he just dropped it.

Most unexpected punk rock nudity: The bass player from Philly's retro rock outfit Three 4 Tens was having trouble keeping his ax in tune. So what does he do? The thing any other self-respecting rocker would do, he jumps up onto the railing in font of the stage, pulls off his shirt, drops his pants and, shockingly, his underwear (and let's say, just for the record, he was no Tommy Lee), puts his underwear on his head and proceeds to pour a full bottle of beer over himself. Not exactly what you'd expect from the seemingly mild-mannered fellows. But fucking punk rock none the less.

Most disgruntled act: The Promise Ring at the Blender party, by a mile. Steamed that the crowd was more interested in the fete's free beer and Jim Beam, lead singer Davey VonBohlen told the audience one of their new tunes was "coincidentally" entitled "Free Jim Beam" and repeatedly glared back at the loud, bustling bar area. But fellas, you still took the check right?

Best transportation: The bicycle rickshaw. Fit and industrious Austin twenty-somethings were everywhere with their mountain bikes pulling modified rickshaw carts. For tips only they'd take you as far as you wanted to go. So with feet burning and the next venue looming just out of walking distance, we were more than willing to hop into these gonzo-bike-messenger types' moneymakers.

Best beer: Shiner Bock. Smooth, drinkable and Bud-cheap most places, it was the only way to fly.

Most common question spoken or overheard: Without a doubt, "Who'd you see?" We had a group of eight folks we hung out with regularly over the five days and another 10 or so we knew around town, so any time we'd split up and then reconvene, "Who'd you see?" was the first thing spoken upon return. This was often followed by "Damn, I should have went with you." Regret and envy are emotions that swell up easily at SXSW.

Best show (how about best shows?): In chronological order, Josh Rouse at the Schuba's party, Starsailor at the Capitol showcase, Ted Leo at Room 710, The Shins at the Village Voice party, the Eels at La Zona Rosa, Aesop Rock and Mr. Lif at LZR and last, but not least, Elbow at the Spin party. This will have to do. Any further pinning down of "best" would be simply brain-crushing.

Best show I didn't see: Though Icelandic hip-hop sounds about as paradoxical as Utah Jazz, the word on the street was that the frozen country's buzz rappers Quarashi ripped. Who knew? Missing this show is my greatest SXSW regret.

Not worth the wait: This may be blasphemous, but the around-the-block line for wristband holders to get into La Zona Rosa on Friday to see GVSB, Spoon and Clinic was not worth trouble. None of the three really lived up to its around-town hype. (or in Clinic's case, worldwide hype.) Thankfully, my traveling party were all laminate pass holders, meaning our wait was less than five minutes, but for the folks who waited for more an hour and a half ... Ouch.

— Ron Davis (eo999 at hotmail dot com)