And so it begins… South By Southwest 2006, the 20th year of musical madness in Austin, Texas, the self-proclaimed "music capital of the USA!" Eight billion bands play in any available nook and cranny, some already massively popular, some hoping to catch the ears of radio programmers, media, and honest-to-goodness music fans. (And sometimes all three.) The A.V. Club ventured down south to join in the delicious melee. We humbly offer this minute-by-minute report.
DAY ONE, MARCH 15: OFF TO THE ROCK RACES
4:56 p.m.: You know you're at SXSW when the taxi receipt features advertising for a new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album.
5:48 p.m.: Imagine that all the rockers from your town founded their own city, and you'll have a rough approximation of Austin in March. Unlike its New York counterpart, CMJ, SXSW is concentrated into one relatively small area. Black T-shirts, bed head, dudes wearing eyeliner, and tattoos abound. The days begin early with parties and barbecues, and they end late with shows everywhere. Unlike CMJ, a lot of bands end up playing multiple times, so it's not a big deal if you can't get into a show—you'll probably have another chance.
6:01 p.m.: An air of desperation lingers as bands try to stand out, industry types talk business, and people size up others to see how they can benefit. It concentrates pretentiousness into spiritually lethal doses. At this very moment, the founder of eMusic—he sold the company years ago to Universal—is sitting nearby in a café, pitching some kind of new business to various label people. There's talk of revenue streams, royalty payments, and—probably—synergy. (That last one is a guess.) But SXSW has a festive air that acts as the spoonful of sugar to make the soul-sucking elements go down. It's hard to complain when there are so many good bands, warm (though cloudy) weather, and Shiner Bock.
6:08 p.m.: The first day of SXSW Music (it's immediately preceded by SXSW Film and SXSW Interactive) is a zoo, and everybody who purchased or somehow earned a badge must wait in line to get it. A SXSW worker—they're everywhere, and the fest is amazingly well organized—tells someone behind us in line, "Everybody has to wait. Everybody who gets a badge is the same. The Beastie Boys had to wait in this line. Elijah Wood had to wait in this line." We think he said, "Charlize Theron didn't have to wait, though."
7:08 p.m.: To the average Joe, he probably just looks like a weird, possibly homeless guy, but he's a demigod here: While waiting for a table at a Thai restaurant, in ambles Dinosaur Jr's J Mascis, with grey mane attached. We end up seeing him everywhere over the weekend.
8:14 p.m.: At the opposite end of the indie-rock celebrity spectrum… It's former O-Town member (they're the boy band from Making The Band, remember?) Jacob Underwood, who now sports big ol' dreadlocks. Does anyone else here recognize him? Doubtful.
8:19 p.m.: Thieves could have a field day breaking into vans and trailers here. (Not that The A.V. Club would condone that behavior.) Say, is that Orange Rockerverb 100 yours? Nice. Oh, and that vintage Moog too, huh? Are you gonna be around all night? Speaking of vans and buses, they're all here, from 20-year-old shitheaps to gussied-up Nightliners to one van that had a PA mounted inside of its rear doors. (A band performed inside.) "We had hoped to have the only white van, but it looks like we're out of luck," Eric Elbogen of NYC indie-poppers Say Hi To Your Mom said. Maybe next year.
10:30 p.m.: An invite-only party for Blender magazine's 20th anniversary (are they that old?), is getting underway at a produce warehouse outside the main drag. The event offers the irresistible lure of a "red carpet." The promised celebs (Elijah Wood, Tommy Chong (!)) never materialize. There's a scramble to take photos of a guy we don't recognize. It turns out to be jazzy Brit singer Jamie Cullum, a fact that excites mostly no one. Also appearing on the red carpet: Singer-songwriter Rhett Miller, who looks way too dressed up.
11:55 p.m.: The music finally starts, with buzzing Twin Cities band Tapes N' Tapes, who are at least partly worthy of the hype around them here. Like many bands, they're scheduled to play SXSW an ungodly number of times. The fashion-forward crowd seems unenthused—they're not here to be enthused—but the band is pretty great. We don't stick around for Echo & The Bunnymen or Spoon (or all the free liquor).
11:59 p.m.: '90s indie stalwarts Versus are still amazing, and it's even worth jumping at any chance to see their offshoots. +/- is fronted by James Baluyut and Pat Ramos —Versus' guitarist and drummer, respectively—and its records feature wondrously claustrophobic pop that has a few things in common with Pinback. The band's fleshed-out live sound can be explosive.
12:32 a.m.: Unintentionally hilarious British band The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster plays sorta proto-modern-metal-punk that nods to Danzig and hardcore. We just assumed they were weird no-names on a British showcase, but apparently they're hep enough to rate an upcoming collaboration with UNKLE…
1:06 a.m.: The Rakes may be this year's future of Brit-rock—funny, cutting, catchy, and great. Singer Alan Donohoe looks and dances like Ian Curtis, but the band sounds like a fashion-unconscious Bloc Party with a love of The Jam—and with tight songs more important than their presentation. That makes for a riveting performance, which includes the monster single "Retreat," as well as a Serge Gainsbourg cover. Amazing.
1:13 a.m.: Even though it takes The Go! Team an eternity to set their gear up for the night's last slot, they easily win over the audience with ebullience. The English band couldn't have looked happier to be onstage, and it was contagious for the capacity crowd at Exodus. The club's stage is at street level with windows along the back, so passersby could watch the show from behind if they couldn't get in. That's the other thing: You can't walk down the street without hearing a cacophony of music from various clubs, all of it blending together. Last night on Red River Street, you could tell that Neko Case was performing with The New Pornographers because her voice came through clear across the street.
2:02 a.m.: The Flaming Lips finish up a "secret" show. It's exactly the kind of thing that makes Austin in March so exciting and fun. Thursday's "secret" show? Beastie Boys.
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