SXSW Tuesday Report: Day Zero in Austin
South By Southwest 2009 doesn’t begin until Wednesday, so I consider Tuesday as Day Zero, St. Patrick’s Day, something of a warm-up and acclimation to the coming onslaught of bands, beer and blogging. To start, the weather so far is sick, mid 70s by day, upper 50s by night. Fish tacos at Guero’s on South Congress and espresso and wifi at Jo’s further confirms that I really am at my tenth or eleventh South By, but I’ve stopped counting.
I’ve also stopped wondering why I come. To say that SXSW has become a corporate, industry clusterfrack is to say that capitalism still exists, despite even the capitalists’ efforts to the contrary. Truth be told, I’d rather be soul deep in industry weasels than the turgid green St. Paddy’s Day hordes at my first destination, the Dog and Duck, an “Irish” “pub” where the Reivers were playing an early evening free party.
But the band is no longer called the Reivers, just as they are no longer called Zeitgeist. Right or Happy is the new name for John Croslin, Kim Longacre, Cindy Toth and Garrett Williams, plus a newish keyboard player, who are trying to put some distance between themselves and their history as the Reivers, one of Austin’s darkest of dark horse alternative rock bands of the late ‘80s, focusing on new material and a new identity. But the band still sounds like the Reivers. Croth’s songwriting is melodic and shrewd, a little big jangly, but not for jangle’s sake. And Cindy Toth is still a purely beautiful rock singer. The Right or Now’s set on the parking lot of this “pub” was short and to the point, despite the utter disinterest of the 500 or so green collegiates and post-collegiates. But I was very glad to hear them again. A new album may appear this year.
The next move was towards the Beauty Bar, for the Art Disaster party, where I hoped to catch a set from the Pomegranates, a fuzzy and sweet indie band I have a soft spot for on record, but have missed every time they’ve played Saint Louis. It should be noted that many of the free day parties at SXSW are by invite only, though what that means in practice is open to interpretation. My attempts to RSVP by web failed, but in line for the party, I wasn’t about to let a white lie stand between me and free vodka tonics. “Did you RSVP?” the door dude asked? “Yeah.” He took my ID, shuffled through his list, nodded, and waved me in.
Turned out I’d missed or would miss the Pomegranates, and instead caught a loud and solid set from another Austin band with a new name: Minx Reaction, formerly known as Dans La Lune, which means they went from bad to worse. But lead singer Johnny Flores, looking like a leprechaun Tom Jones, has a riveting rock voice—throaty and strong and convincing—and the band knows its way around raw and sweet British Invasion rock, with nods to the Nuggets underground, as witnessed by a great cover of “Psychotic Reaction.” The set ended with a quick burst of a dive onto the floor and guitar tossing, and over all made for the first fine surprise of the South By week.
Down the notorious Sixth street, I headed for Friends, and a Dart Music International showcase, featuring Canada’s Golden Dogs, Ireland’s We Should Be Dead, and Liverpool’s Polly Mackey. The first was as loud and loose and hard-edged as I recalled from catching them last year in Austin, with their epic keys and fuzz cover of Paul McCartney’s “Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five.” Desire for pizza overcame what little interest I had in indie bubble gum band We Should Be Dead, though the last of their two songs, including a wireless-mic-march-through-of-the-crowd, made me rethink missing most of their set.
Looking like a 17-year-old Chrissie Hynde in a Sid and Nancy t-shirt, Polly Mackey ended the night with earnest and direct alt guitar rock, unassuming and nervous, and making up for a lack of ferocity with a lack of pretense, and a great cover of Radiohead’s “Fake Plastic Trees.” There’s not much buzz about Mackey, but with a few more years of performing and songwriting, there will be.







