Saturday, March 19, 2016

SXSW Day Two: Reverbolution

Ive lost my last Prednisone pill, the grackles are chatty right outside my window and rain looks threatening, but fuck it. Time to rock. But first , 2 mashed potatoes egg and cheese breakfast burritos to properly gum up the system. Rather than give you a play by play, I'm giving highlights with scatterbrained similes . Enough prattling on. 
First stop was the Antiquiet Showcase where I caught the Pom Poms set..Duane Eddy guitars washing over a dead weatherish type grind and a nice smoky voice coming out of a Gloria Estefan doppelgänger. Dark blues, leathered and pompadoured, never seen tighter jeans on a human, a good start to the day.
I headed over to the Hotel Vegas Annex while passing by a bloated bum splayed out on the sidewalk mouth agape but breathing and covered in various promotional cards dropped by desperate rappers in a lame attempt at humor. For a minute I questioned the risky selfish trip called humanity and kept going. Got there in time to see Pink Mexico, an oily coiffed trio of ruffians..lively high vocals, fuzz bubbles rising and popping above the robotic Regular John thud of drums. Reverb reared its head in comets of echoing chemtrails above the crowd, sipping cheap sponsored tequila while grafted to their phones(humanity again).
Then Next door to Hotel Vegas another loose locked trio called Heaters, or basically a modern day Ty Segall cover band. Reverb on reverb , tippy toes singer easing up to the mic while the cheeks flap from the wind tunnel forming around us. Every word was buried meters below the surface, canyon top yelping, completely unintelligible.
Luckily I saw on my digital schedule that Hundred Visions were coming up. I was up front , ears leaking burst fluid caused by the riffkrieg. Total gangbusters of crushing volume. This is racing an avalanche to your lunch date music. Monolith moving. Sending Thor home from a fight with Mjolnr between his legs. Music God uses to pass a stone to. Bamtastic melodic and throbbing. band of the day. Seek them out. They've got stuff on band camp and it hurts so good.

Headed back across the tracks to catch a fairly hyped band called Night Beats who came all the way to Texas and didn't tune up. The reverb swallowed everything in sight and sucked it into a big black hole of I don't care. So glad you spent all that time on lyrics that sound like Charlie Browns mom on three klonopin. A damn shame. Little Peter drowned in a well of you blew your one shot.

Got wind of an off the beaten path yard party starring those current Detroit demigods Protomartyr, post punk leaning foursome complete with a frumpy frontman with a marble mouth delivery and a stance and demeanor from the balled up shirts on the floor of Oscar Madison's closet. The kids died for it. I enjoyed the scenery of the rhythm of swaying carabiners, overall jorts, dirty babies running in the lumberyard/grass and lost dogs .

My earache was something no belly full of Lone Star could dissipate. Took a long break and went to The Grand Billiard Hall for the Rock Candy showcase. Saw Patsy's Rats..a fast pace Runaways aping rock band that held my attention until they motored through a cover of one of the worst songs in history..New York Groove by the genius Ace Frehley. I freely moved towards the exit, back to the sleeping porch and the cackling grackles to come.

 

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