SXSW End

Last South By post was getting long, so took a break, and now the end.

3/21/09
Had remembered the night before that the Stalkers were playing on the East Side at 11:30am(!), so up early to try to come up with a bus route to get there, over at Cafe Caffeine. Surprisingly, Phil was up too, and ready to make a day of it. Give it a shot - meet downtown.... I caught the lucky #1 bus, Phil ran, and amazingly we both made it. Pooled our change - $1.45 (five cents short) - so I asked everyone within range of the bus stop, even those who looked homeless, for a nickel. Finally got one from a dude on the corner, just in time to deposit $1.50 in the #6 bus, and head east. Another dude who got on the bus needed change, Phil yells from the back, "Sorry dude, we only have twenties!" We quickly realized this is not the thing to yell on a bus bound for East 12th. Off the bus at Club 1808, and the bands are out on the street, waiting to get in. I talk to Andy, singer of the Stalkers, and we think we've met before through a mutual friend. Finally get into the club - what a marvelous dive! - and out to the backyard, where there are card tables, chairs, trash cans, and a really cool stage. Hang out in the noontime sun, listening to some really sensitive singer/guitarist who apparently lost his band, and is losing his voice. Anyway... across the street to the liquor store for brown-bagged tallboys, and a hot dog for me - one of the best hot dogs I've had in years. The cashier offered me no condiments, and I needed none; dogs this delectable should be pure. During my transaction, Phil gets accosted outside, ordered by this hoodlum to a) buy him beer! and b) buy a medicine kit's variety of drugs from him. Phil looks relieved to see me exit this wonderful hot dog-serving liquor store. Over to the alley beside 1808, and into the backyard to see the Stalkers. These guys are awesome, late '70s era hard/punk rock, really damn catchy and fun. There are about 15 people sitting in chairs watching them. Andy flails around in front of the stage and smashes cinder blocks with a wrench, both conveniently located in the yard and the alley. We will come back to this neighborhood, just maybe not at night....

Back downtown with a list of venues that are supposed to have both music and free food and/or beer. The list is flawed! So up to Waterloo Park - another magical spot, with gently sloping hills and a tree house-like overlook - to see King Khan and the Shrines. Very good garagey soul/funk. Phil has to work, so I meet Tania, and we take her scooter (still not convinced that this scooter should seat two, but it's fun) to Whole Foods for sushi and Foster's oil cans. (I'd done the recon and knew we could buy and bring these into the park in Tania's bag at $2 a pop instead of paying $7 each for them inside.) Back to Waterloo to sit and watch The Thermals, who I really like - catchy power pop, singer has a great voice. Then Lucero, who I enjoyed, but maybe am still not seeing what the fuss is about. Then the Monotonix....

Last time I saw these guys, I proclaimed them the best live band I've ever seen. I told everyone about their maniacal act that ended with the entire band out in the hallway of the club they were playing, still playing their instruments. I worried that this would spoil the mystique if they did the same thing again. It did not, because they did not, and yet, they are still the best live band ever. They play 1970s hard rock/metal, like a faster, lighter Sabbath. But their stage presence... well, that's a misnomer, because they're rarely actually on stage, except to climb the rafters and jump off. The bass drum gets passed around the crowd, with the singer surfing on top of it. Then the drummer gets passed around, while continuing to play his kit. The singer parts the crowd like the Red fucking Sea and runs amok. Then... relax... everyone sit down. Everyone within 100 feet of the stage in this park sits down. "Shut the fuck up everybody!" the singer yells in his peculiar Israeli accent. When the band starts playing again, everyone jump up and dance. And we do! To have hundreds of people jump off the ground in perfect clockwork frenzy is a beautiful experience. Then we sit down again, packed like sardines, and do it again... before house PA cues house music, effectively ending the Monotonix set. Singer persuades them to let him say one more thing, that is... that this is the third time they've been cut off this festival. Thank you everybody....

Circle Jerks are next, and who can follow the Monotonix? But they are actually really good and fun. But ready to get out, Tania and I dump her scooter in a garage for the night, wander around looking for food. Oh, there's Jaime's Spanish Village, of course, let's go there. Pitcher of sangria while we wait for a table, then quesadillas and chicken mole. Have I been living under a rock surrounded by cacti because I've never heard of this fantastic entree made with a chocolate and peanut butter sauce? Stuffed, out for a walk. Various choice haunts on Red River and 6th are packed, so over, and up, to Speak Easy - another swanky dance club that I did not see myself setting foot in. But very nice, up on the roof top terrace, with futon/couch/beds all around the perimeter, nice view of the city. Rum and Cokes, dancing, and... "Hey Eric!" My phone had died, and Eric had tried to call, but miraculously we both ended up at the same place, where neither of us had been before. A fun night there. Then, with Eric and friends, we go to wait in line for some after-party. Eric and Candace try to sneak in the side, then the back, and no luck. Fuck this, I'm walking home....

3/22/09
Saturday was great, but would've been an anticlimactic end to SXSW (waiting in line for an after party - Eric and Candace and the others got in one hour later - at 4:30am), had I not decided to join those two and Lacey for Gay Bi Gay Gay on Sunday. As you can guess, this is the gay version of South By (before I realized it was "bi" and not "by," I wondered how they didn't come up with a more clever title), in someone's large backyard. A fun, colorful event (natch), with interesting costumes (pasties, imaginative cross-dressing), good pizza loaded with toppings (mine had garlic, jalapenos, olives, mushrooms, spinach, and other shit that fell off as I lifted it to my mouth), and music, including Butch County, a very cheesey and funny lesbian hard rock act. Eric takes Candace to the airport, and we are done my friend... done, fried, burned, cooked, no longer hungry... for the night, at least....