The SXSW Diaries Pt. I
SXSW Day 1
Onboard a Boeing 737, somewhere over the United States
And we're off! My flight is unsurprisingly filled with SXSW-goers, including indie promoter extraordinaire Sean Agnew of R5 productions and members of the band Po Po. The ones with ironic facial hair and alternative haircuts are easy enough to identify, but the mainstreamers are out in force as well. As I wrote this the regular-looking fellow in the adjacent seat asked me who I was writing for and told me he was headed to the festival for the fifth time. He became the first recipient of our SXSW-exclusive EP. Only 199 left to give out. The joys of networking!
Excitement is in the air. I'm gradually working up some enthusiasm. I'm not much of a festival guy myself; I'm not fond of crowds, hustle and bustle, or waiting in lines. However, I do enjoy playing shows, drinking for free, and not going to work, so hopefully it'll be a net positive.
Last night I dreamed that I arrived in Austin with my guitar case only to find it empty. As Coleridge wrote, we do not feel horror because we dream of a sphinx; we dream of a sphinx in order to explain the horror we feel. And knowing me, such a nightmare scenario is not inconceivable. I have a talent for forgetting to pack crucial items -- I'll bring my cell phone and forget my charger, or bring socks but forget underwear, for instance. I think I've got everything covered this time, though: ear plugs, extra guitar strings, plenty of CDs, various hip T-shirts, digital camera, moisturizer.
We're set to play a party on Friday at a bike shop and a showcase on Saturday at a church, which I'm told is a good place to play. I wish we were playing more -- although I'm not sure I'd like to play ten times in five days, as some bands seem to be -- but I'm glad we managed to get more than just one set. I'm already running on insufficient sleep after last night's warm-up show in Philly. I figure the sound at our shows in Austin couldn't possibly be any worse than it was at a certain Girard-Ave. venue that shall remain nameless, so we're well-prepared.
I did my best to make an itinerary online, but I have a feeling it won't hold up very well. It was hard enough to even skim the ginormous schedule without my eyes glazing over. I've checked off and RSVPed for multiple events for every time slot so that I'll have a backup in case I can't get in to things. Once more into the breach.
SXSW Day 2
At the home of Brandon the Beekeeper
Well, that was something. It's like some kind of hipster apocalypse out there. You can't go anywhere without hearing somebody's kick and snare or bumping into some bro's goofy moustache. We registered at the convention center, spotting various dudes from various bands. We drank free Miller lites (hey, they were free) at a tent where international bands were playing. We made our way to the Central Presbyterian Church, where we'll be playing on Saturday, only to be halted by a gigantic line. The deal is that my whole band gets wristbands but we only get one badge (which I'm wearing, natch). At most events there are two lines for entry, one for wristbands and one for badges, with badges getting priority. My bandmates waited with me for awhile until they realized there was no way anyone without a badge was getting in. I ended up standing there for an hour and missing M. Ward, but I did get to catch Department of Eagles. The church was a very impressive venue. I'm pumped for Saturday.
Next I made my way over to Stubb's to catch The Decemberists debuting their new album. This time I only had to wait a couple of minutes, but one of my bandmates got stuck waiting for almost an hour before he gave up. I suppose the way things are set up is reasonable, but considering that festival attendance is our only compensation for coming out here, it'd be nice if it were a little bit easier for us. But maybe I'm just being a curmudgeon.
In any case, my main objectives for today are to eat free food and minimize line-waiting. More on this story as it develops.
Onboard a Boeing 737, somewhere over the United States
And we're off! My flight is unsurprisingly filled with SXSW-goers, including indie promoter extraordinaire Sean Agnew of R5 productions and members of the band Po Po. The ones with ironic facial hair and alternative haircuts are easy enough to identify, but the mainstreamers are out in force as well. As I wrote this the regular-looking fellow in the adjacent seat asked me who I was writing for and told me he was headed to the festival for the fifth time. He became the first recipient of our SXSW-exclusive EP. Only 199 left to give out. The joys of networking!
Excitement is in the air. I'm gradually working up some enthusiasm. I'm not much of a festival guy myself; I'm not fond of crowds, hustle and bustle, or waiting in lines. However, I do enjoy playing shows, drinking for free, and not going to work, so hopefully it'll be a net positive.
Last night I dreamed that I arrived in Austin with my guitar case only to find it empty. As Coleridge wrote, we do not feel horror because we dream of a sphinx; we dream of a sphinx in order to explain the horror we feel. And knowing me, such a nightmare scenario is not inconceivable. I have a talent for forgetting to pack crucial items -- I'll bring my cell phone and forget my charger, or bring socks but forget underwear, for instance. I think I've got everything covered this time, though: ear plugs, extra guitar strings, plenty of CDs, various hip T-shirts, digital camera, moisturizer.
We're set to play a party on Friday at a bike shop and a showcase on Saturday at a church, which I'm told is a good place to play. I wish we were playing more -- although I'm not sure I'd like to play ten times in five days, as some bands seem to be -- but I'm glad we managed to get more than just one set. I'm already running on insufficient sleep after last night's warm-up show in Philly. I figure the sound at our shows in Austin couldn't possibly be any worse than it was at a certain Girard-Ave. venue that shall remain nameless, so we're well-prepared.
I did my best to make an itinerary online, but I have a feeling it won't hold up very well. It was hard enough to even skim the ginormous schedule without my eyes glazing over. I've checked off and RSVPed for multiple events for every time slot so that I'll have a backup in case I can't get in to things. Once more into the breach.
SXSW Day 2
At the home of Brandon the Beekeeper
Well, that was something. It's like some kind of hipster apocalypse out there. You can't go anywhere without hearing somebody's kick and snare or bumping into some bro's goofy moustache. We registered at the convention center, spotting various dudes from various bands. We drank free Miller lites (hey, they were free) at a tent where international bands were playing. We made our way to the Central Presbyterian Church, where we'll be playing on Saturday, only to be halted by a gigantic line. The deal is that my whole band gets wristbands but we only get one badge (which I'm wearing, natch). At most events there are two lines for entry, one for wristbands and one for badges, with badges getting priority. My bandmates waited with me for awhile until they realized there was no way anyone without a badge was getting in. I ended up standing there for an hour and missing M. Ward, but I did get to catch Department of Eagles. The church was a very impressive venue. I'm pumped for Saturday.
Next I made my way over to Stubb's to catch The Decemberists debuting their new album. This time I only had to wait a couple of minutes, but one of my bandmates got stuck waiting for almost an hour before he gave up. I suppose the way things are set up is reasonable, but considering that festival attendance is our only compensation for coming out here, it'd be nice if it were a little bit easier for us. But maybe I'm just being a curmudgeon.
In any case, my main objectives for today are to eat free food and minimize line-waiting. More on this story as it develops.
