It’s a city turned musical madhouse, an astounding limitless social gathering, an incredible city turned into a new kind of city, with its specific yet diverse demographic and constrained yet amazing lifestyle.  It’s performers all being judged by the business-like circus performers in some kind of straightjacket holding all the cards, texting a friend from four feet away in silence like strangers, beautiful websites made easy but not knowing what to do with them, a conference where you’re taught about the importance of facebook friending knowing there’s free beer outside — Knowing you will see at least one crazy thing.   There will be more people than you were able to imagine.  It will be better with a bike.  You will see more music condensed over a shorter time span than you ever have before.  You will see at least one totally unexpected amazing thing.  (Represented here by Spain’s Capsula) knowing this will drive you slightly crazy that it could be better somewhere else at any moment.  That will hopefully teach you to learn to enjoy where you are.

I noticed consistently how we’ve turned into a culture of music listeners who don’t come to dance or let loose, or even to listen to what an artist has to say, but to judge and, usually, tweet.  This feeling was evidenced and highlighted by what were easily the best concerts I saw — Of the four, two were in a church, and one in a hotel lobby.  Glasser and tUnE-YarDs played to silent, attentive audiences in the Presbyterian church on the top of a hill, free of the warm electric glow of cell phones and chatter and a poor sound system — The room was full, the speakers amazing, and every person in there was on the exact same page and wavelength — And the bands knew it.  These artists who I’ve heard on Myspace and found interesting, but unimpressive, completely threw my ears and mind for a loop and played music you could really get lost in, that was totally fresh and heartfelt.  It was how things were meant to be heard.

Gary Clarke Jr. gave me something I’ve been wanting to hear since I was thirteen years old — Real, raw, deep blues.  I saw him twice, the second time with a full band going down a Jimi/Stevie Ray Vaughan kind of road, improved by his soul style blues vocals but very much something I’d seen before — In the boring confines of the Hilton hotel passing by in an afternoon — he did something very different.  You can imitate Robert Johnson, and you can learn slow licks to old Muddy Waters tunes — but that doesn’t mean you can really do it.  Hit that weird thing that the blues really is at its best, and I hadn’t realize I’d never seen anyone do it before then.  That’s all I’m gonna say — If you can see Gary Clarke Jr. play the slow, solo electric blues, don’t miss it.  It’s the way it was meant to be felt.

The fourth concert highlight broke the other rules — It wasn’t about an attentive space and entirely new styles of music or discovering some kind of prodigy that stops everyone in their tracks — It was just a great show.  Middle Brother, the quasi-supergroup of friends from Deer Tick, Dawes, et al., played rock and roll so good you could have thought it was The Band drunk in 1967 at a backyard barbeque.  That’s what it felt like, with the drummer crowdsurfing and singing one of the traded verses of “Bring It On Home” instruments being traded amidst laughter, the crowd all squeezed up front singing their hearts out to Deer Tick’s “Daydreamin” two piano players, an encore so wild they had to walk off stage from the total satisfaction, but so good the venue just let them play 20 more minutes until they absolutely had to stop…  I have never seen a band have so much fun, and it’s been a long time since I saw an audience so engaged, enjoying the music so purely it couldn’t be avoided, in infectious musical happiness.  I can’t imagine those two things aren’t related.  It was the way it’s all meant to be.

You may have to sift through a lot to find that kind of thing at South By Southwest, but that’s a big part of the fun of it, the uniqueness of what you’re there for, and it is very much well worth it for those moments of real connection.

I also put a bunch of shots from Alcoholic Faith Mission on here — It was the last show I saw, a great reminder of me of how good music can feel when it means something to you personally and the band still cares about what they’re doing — You can’t see those images and not know they’re singing their hearts out — Really a band worth seeing live, you just can’t record that kind of thing.

Hopefully these photos sum up at least one perspective on SXSW.

Photos by Doctor Octopus ®