Alenjandro Escovedo
shows his roots
photo: Alma Klein |
AUSTIN--Just as in any other city, Austin activity picks up on the
weekend--an impressive feat considering the already manic milieu of SXSW. By
Friday, everybody knows where everything is as well as where everybody else
is, and the mad scramble to be in two places at once is replaced by a more
regulated internal rhythm.
The weather continues to be trying, with temperatures well below the seasonal
norm. Despite the gloom and dampness, private midday parties draw sizable
crowds. The Delta 72 and Modest Mouse appear at one of the many events
sponsored by some upstart Internet company, but the requisite dot-com
connection appears almost silly compared to real, live rock bands: even the
broadest bandwidths couldn't handle the maximum R&B of The Delta 72, a band
that puts the "mod" back in "modern rock." The group had its shtick down,
preening and doing splits to the great amusement of the crowd.
Modest Mouse has somehow managed to get signed to a major label, an odd move
considering the group's erratic performances and infamous (some might say
felonious) reputation. This afternoon found the band on its best behavior, as
if Modest Mouse realized the importance of these industry shindigs. Actually
very few bands are really broken by these fests, but bad word of mouth can
certainly take a group down a notch or two.
Just about every act looks bad compared to the lineup of the free concert at
Waterloo Park. First on the bill was local favorite Alejandro Escovedo, whose
performances are an annual tradition at SXSW. A previous member of The Nuns,
the True Believers and Rank + File, Escovedo has been a pivotal figure in the
evolution of cowpunk and roots rock.
Escovedo's more recent solo material, however, is marked by a moving
mournfulness, though his furious cover of The Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog"
tempered the mood and set the stage for headlining ringer Patti Smith, who
was appearing publicly in Austin for the first time in over 20 years. Now in
her fourth decade as a musician, Smith has never been better. More so, she
has single-handedly proven that a non-mainstream act can sometimes outlast
more commercial competition.
The distinction between mainstream and underground was made very apparent at
the BMI showcase at the Austin Music Hall, which mainly featured artists who
fall right in between the two categories. Jim Lauderdale and Kim Richey both
have major-label deals, and both are in-demand singers and songwriters, yet
neither has had a great deal of commercial success as a solo artist.
Watching them in action it was hard to imagine why. Backed by the Continental
Drifters (who have their own showcase Saturday night), Richey was a real
dynamo. Even Whiskeytown's Ryan Adams--whose own surly stage demeanor perhaps
explains his band's less lucrative status as left-of-center country-rock--had
to compliment her on a set that made hype-magnet Shelby Lynne seem slightly,
well, slight. Actually, Lynne's coming out was more invigorating than her
rather sedate new album, and her powerful voice really brought her
countrified R&B to life.
Down the street a line already stretched for the Elliott Smith show that
would start in an hour. Anyone who got in early enough to get a good spot was
fortunate to catch Creeper Lagoon, a San Francisco alt.rock not-quite whose
collection of hooks makes its perennial failure to find a huge audience
somewhat puzzling. Smith's success is equally strange, but for different
reasons. A shy songwriter with a big jones for The Beatles, Smith's songcraft
is way too subtle for the sort of tactics he must resort to to win a large,
yammering crowd.
There's no way Fu Manchu had any problem with people talking over its set.
You could hear the phenomenally loud stoner-rock band as soon as you stepped
out of the Elliott Smith show. As you got closer and closer to Waterloo
Brewery the ground started to rumble and small objects began to vibrate. Fu
Manchu doesn't mess around. Its amps are lethal, but its sludgy anthems are
irresistible. The band's like a heavy-metal Pied Piper.
Though SXSW has its share of hip-hop showcases, the overall lack of rap is
odd. Hearing the occasional car cruise by with something low and loud
thumping from the speakers is like hearing sounds from another planet. Where
are the guitars? Where are the screamed vocals? Is that a drum machine? Just
imagine how crazy the festival would be if it became truly cosmopolitan,
including more styles and more ethnic music from around the globe instead of
mostly just rock bands. It's a big, big world out there, and as much as bands
like Fu Manchu may like to rule it with an iron riff, there's definitely
plenty of space at SXSW to share.
AWESOME
ALEJANDRO