MY SXSW 2010: Good and Bad
These words I write don’t mean anything. Especially to those of you that haven’t been to SXSW.
This year my hypothetical SXSW cherry was exploded (popped just doesn’t do it). You hear the stories about the insanity, the nonstop partying, the celebrity sightings (I saw the king of BRO-dom – Matthew McConaughey), the BBQ, the heat, and, of course the MUSIC. Those stories will never prepare you for SXSW. NEVER. And you will never bring enough earplugs, unless you’re one of those smart people that owns a custom pair.
A friend and I came to the conclusion that SXSW is a bunch of nerds and stoners converging in a musical Mardi Gras. The nerds making up for lost college partying time (they were too busy inventing things like email and Twitter) and the stoners, well, they just want a free party. Let’s just say the rampant “checking in,” status updating, packing of bowls, and Lone Star consumption was ubiquitous.
Take what ever you want from my list of the good and bad. Add your own items in the comments.
Orgone: My favorite live music moment of SXSW. I had no idea what to expect when I stumbled over to the Flamingo at 1AM to catch one of @figurehead management’s rising bands. It’s so refreshing to see a band actually PLAY their instruments. Their infectious funk, Latin sound, a blend of Ozomatli and Curtis Mayfield was an escape from the banal and overexposed indie genre. Go see this band live.
BBQ: I don’t want to look at another pulled pork sandwich or stack of ribs for a long time; unless it comes from one of these eateries: Lambert’s, Iron Works or Stubbs.
ASCAP boat ride: The best way to disconnect from the madness. Free beer and bagels for a morning excursion along the river…at a hangover-friendly pace, of course.
Hottub @ the Bay Area Takeover: The good people @thebaybridged and @noisepop were at it again this year. Nothing better than watching the ladies of Hottub writhe on the floor in a puddle of sweat and spit. HOT.
Surfer Blood: Easily one of the buzzier bands at SXSW this year. My MVPs of SXSW.
Superchunk: Still possessing true American indie rock chops that put most pimpled-faced indie fakers to shame. Not sure anyone rocked my face as heard as these vets.
Courtney Love: Say what you want about her but Love is a spectacle. She’s a dying breed of artistry, a massive rock star persona that just doesn’t exist in today’s too cool hipster generation.
FourSquare: Simply the best way to find out where your friends were and at what stage of drunkenness they were at.
6th St pizza: Learn how to make crust Austin. I tried three different places and all of them had crust like baked tanbark.
Waiting to get into Hole: The SXSW badge and wristband meant nothing for this show. Neither did the SPIN badge if you got there late. I did and waited in line for close to an hour.
Forgetting to put sunscreen on, Day 2: I have a disgusting tan in the shape of a v-neck. HOT
ATMs: Do not use them. FEES = total thievery.