|
 SLOW
STARTER
Geez, only 157 bands performed on the first night of SXSW. Maybe things will
pick up this weekend.
by
Shay Quillen
AUSTIN--The first person I passed as I entered the Austin Convention Center
on Wednesday was former Talking Head Jerry Harrison. (Like me, he's working
for one of them dot-coms now.) "This must be the place," I thought.
Correct
I was. I had arrived at my first South by Southwest. While the black-clad
hipsters greeted each other with warm hugs interrupted by the occasional
cell-phone chirp, I opened up the 266-page tome that is the SXSW
schedule and planned out my day. Things start out relatively slow
on Wednesday--just 157 bands performing at 30 different venues,
plus another half-dozen bands at the Austin Music Awards show. Later
in the week, things will start to pick up.
First, the bad news: I missed my chance to see Harvey Sid Fisher,
the lounge-singing chronicler of the Zodiac, at the Soho Lounge.
(Damn.) I also missed what promised to be a fine night of insurgent
country at the Hole in the Wall with Chicago's Mount Pilot and the
group with the evening's most alluring name--the Bastard Sons of
Johnny Cash. (Damn again.) Apparently David Gray knocked 'em dead
at Antone's. (Too bad for David the only Americans who love his
music are the industry types who get his discs for free anyway.
Grab his stuff when you see it in the 99-cent bin--and you will.)
My regrets also to Don Walser, Pete Krebs, Blink, Mayflies USA and
one of my favorite live bands in the world, the nuclear polka ensemble
known as Brave Combo. Maybe next time.
So what did I see? you ask. Well, my journalistic instincts led
me first to Gaby & Mo's, where I enjoyed a tasty Stewart's Root
Beer on the porch and eavesdropped on a pleasant group of lefties
waxing enthusiastic over a Green candidate for railroad commissioner.
A bite to eat at Waterloo Brewing Company and then a quick walk
to the Austin Music Hall for the Austin Music Awards, where I saw
national stars (Shawn Colvin showed up to collect Songwriter of
the Decade honors) and local legends (a performance by the jazz/R&B
Texas Trumpets.)
But the biggest stars of the night were those who couldn't make
it--Stevie Ray Vaughan, named Best Artist of a decade he barely
lived to see; Dr. Sterling Morrison, late of the Velvet Underground
and the University of Texas English Department; and, especially,
Doug Sahm, whose blend of country, blues and Tex-Mex in many ways
epitomized this music scene. The beloved Texas Tornado and leader
of the Sir Douglas Quintet passed away last year, but his face peered
out everywhere, on posters, T-shirts and stickers, and his name
popped up in acceptance speeches throughout the night.
Sahm's longtime compatriot Augie Meyers was on hand to pick up the
Tornadoes' award for Best Tejano and Conjunto Band. He even joined
Sahm's sons onstage for spirited versions of such classics as "Mendocino"
and "She's About a Mover." However, a promising Sterling Morrison
tribute, featuring John Cale, Alejandro Escovedo and a five-piece
string section, didn't catch fire until the final number, a relentless
"I'm Waiting for the Man."
The big living winners included Kelly Willis, who got what she deserved
with Best Female Vocalist, Best Country Vocalist and Album of the
Year honors. (If they'd had a Most Fetching award, the adorable
Ms. Willis, in her little black dress, surely would have won that,
too.)
The crowd was divided about 60/40 between locals and music-industry
types, and both camps loved Ms. Willis. The other big winner was
Bob Schneider (Sandra Bullock's boyfriend, for the record), who
garnered so many plaques (Musician of the Year and Songwriter of
the Year among them) that I lost count. He was honored with the
closing spot on the bill. By this point, much of the cell-phone
crowd had headed out to the clubs, but I stuck around for a while
to see what the fuss was all about.
He seems to have it all--a clear, pleasant voice, catchy songs,
a killer band, good looks to make the girls squeal (squealing was
heard) undercut by a "wacky" self-deprecating sense of humor (he
performed in a giant Afro wig), and just enough of a groove to keep
the Phish kids interested. It's a hell of a lot better than Matchbox
20, or whatever it is that passes for mainstream rock these days.
I bailed out after three songs to scoot to Stubb's Barbecue to check
out the Damnations TX, who proved to be the high point of the evening.
I liked them from the start, because if you stood in the back of
the crowd and squinted, it looked like Tom Ardolino of NRBQ was
playing drums, which gave me a warm feeling inside. But when I got
closer, I realized this was one hell of a rock band and a hell of
a country band, with a killer rhythm section, a bunch of good songs
and great two-part singing from sisters Amy Boone and Deborah Kelly.
When the band followed a banjo-driven version of the Carter Family's
"What Does the Deep Sea Say?" with a rocking romp through the sixties
girl-group hit "Sally Go Round the Roses," I knew I was in the presence
of greatness.
The Gourds, named Austin's Best Roots Rock band last night, followed.
I'd heard their music a lot from a card-carrying alt-country roommate
I used to have, but I still hadn't quite made up my mind. For those
who haven't heard them, the Gourds resemble a sloppier, all-acoustic
version of The Band, except with three Rick Dankos, no Robbie Robertson,
and Richard Manuel and Levon Helm both have bad colds. They did
a couple of songs off an upcoming album, which didn't sound demonstrably
different than their old stuff. Like The Band, they trade instruments
around a lot--accordion, fiddle, mandolin (sadly, no tuba). I wasn't
won over. Maybe it was because they were following the wonderful
Damnations, maybe it was because I had reached my threshold of mediocre
alt-country mandolin playing, maybe it was just because I'd been
awake for 20 hours, but I left early, without hearing their notorious
cover of Snoop Doggy Dogg's "Gin and Juice." I guess I'll just have
to imagine it.
Today should be even better. It's gonna be a twangy one. Steve Earle
starts things off by delivering a keynote speech. Later I hope to
check out Ray Price and his friends, who include Hank Williams III,
then set up camp at the Continental Club for Wanda Jackson, Li'l
Band of Gold and Hot Club of Cowtown. Looks like I'll have to take
a raincheck on one of the evening's more incongruous pairings--Cypress
Hill and the Jayhawks at La Zona Rosa.
I'll let you know how it all turns out.
For
complete Newcity.com coverage of SXSW 2000, click here.
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