Playlist

Jean Grae said, "Hip-hop ain't dead, it was on vacation!" And then came Talib Kweli. I'll admit it. This will not be objective; I even waited a couple of days after his Saturday evening show at Auditorium Shores, thinking that maybe I could write with a little less adoration. But I love Talib Kweli, love him more than Funyuns and Fanta! Do you even understand how much love that is?!

And everything was great until he introduced three other MCs "from Cali," and then it was just so much jumping around and yelling (though one of the MCs sounded a bit like Busta Rhymes). And then everything was great again, until this really tall guy stepped into my light, leaning over my notepad and dictating his Web site. "www.MySpace.com back slash ...," he yelled. And I said, "What the?!" But my eye roll obviously didn't work as he continued, "I don't know who you work for, but hit the Web site up and give me some love." Whatever ... my new friend Nick (who knew every Ice Cube song, word for word) had my back. Anyway, the three rappers called Kweli the MCEO (cute) and then he brought out a real live band and backup singers, one of whom looked bored, bored, bored.

Haha, poor Mike. (Eric Schlegel / DMN)

... Oh, and Mike's story about playing roadie for local band the New Frontiers is worthy of resurrection from among the other weekend stories, so check it out, too.

... Ok, it's later and I'm back with more video: Tokyo Sex Destruction | The People's Party | Ice Cube | The Barker Band | Nathan's wrap-up/street scenes

Maggie Mae's rooftop is one big sardine can. It's a horrible place to play a showcase: the only sightlines are just in front of the stage because the remainder of the upper floor is tiered downward. So if you want to see a band as well as hear it, you have to squeeze into the roughly 60-by-30-foot area at the head of the space.

Well, I'm here, against the rear rail. The Autumns just wrapped up a set that sounded like a meld of OK Computer-era Radiohead, Richard Hawley and, well, British Sea Power, which is what I'm here to see.

Last band, last showcase slot, last venue, last day. It's about time. My sinuses may be somewhat normal now, but my lower back is about to start screaming at me ...

I only lasted five songs, but man I wanted more. The Brighton, England band isn't the most exact, nor the most showy, nor the most transcendental act in person, but live it builds momentum in a very similar way to Arcade Fire (no wonder that comparison's been made before). It becomes a breathing, primitive and familial entity in spite of what each of its members want to do as individuals on stage; beyond that, the totality of the band's delivery is very hard to pinpoint. The touring version's six members include a horn player and violinist, and along with some vehement antics and a knack for finding pockets of pop prescience within dichotomous song structures (Win Butler can actually learn a bit about that from these lads), British Sea Power brings the power. Even when it's off (guitars and voices were both out of tune during "Waving Flags"), it redeems itself immediately with an 'on' moment, such as the version of "Canvey Island" that immediately followed.

Our tireless Austin Bureau photographer, Erich Schlegel, stayed for the finish, which he described as "incredible." That's it, then. I start hitting the gym three times a week again and playing tennis. I'm not missing any more incredible endings.

Bad name, boys. Or maybe not, since those in emo are quite fond of self-deprecation ...

Anberlin stole the emo spotlight at last year's SXSW. That showcase helped net it a major-label deal, and though we have yet to hear that fruit, it'll be plenty ripe when it's ready to pluck from the internet as well as store shelves in a few months time.

All Time Low is set up to be this year's Paramore, with all sorts of momentum such as magazine covers, kooky online meet-the-band contests and such. The attention's well deserved, though right now singer Alex Gaskarth is swearing too much, talking too much and asking for too much (a circle pit at SXSW? To pop-foundated emo punk? Um, that's be a no!). But when it's performing, there are few bands in this genre who stay this energetic, this tight and this infectious. Even its harmonies are like-able, even if its songwriting borders on the banal (it's energy mostly overcomes that).

Now, onto witness British Sea Power ...

I'm now back at Bourbon Rocks but in the main room (no gravel in here unless it's been tracked in), where one of my favorite neo-punk acts, the Matches, is performing.

The Bay Area act's previous CD, "Decomposer," was one of my top albums of 2006. Too bad almost no one heard it ... though on Tuesday its new effort on Epitaph, "A Band In Hope," may very well make bigger waves. It's more accomplished in that it's even more experimental than "Decomposer" in key ways, yet it also rocks harder. But I'll say no more, since my full review will be in Tuesday's paper ...

It started off with "Decomposer"s opening track, the bleary and carnival-ish "Salty Eyes." It's playing up the red theme of that album with an over-the-top wardrobe for the showcase - red blazers, silk shirts, jeans and such among the four members. It's straight-up rocking out on the second track (which I sadly don't quite recognize), and revising the opening number's whimsy on "What Katie Said" and "Clumsy Heart."

All are tracks from "Decomposer," which is a bit odd for a 40-minute set. Will they introduce any of the new stuff? Yeah, it's not quite as catchy as the now-old material, but ...

... ah, yes. Here's a new one (right after the guitarist says "we have a new album coming out on Tuesday" without naming the darn thing). "AM Tilts," I think it's called. Pretty buoyant stuff, with heavier bass content and a more structured pop approach. Trust me: it's not a typical track on A Band In Hope (though its Led Zeppelin-ish ending is).

As is typical of the Matches' live set, the guys are leaving a lot of sweat and catharses behind. Remember this line: "There's a little suicide in all that we do." If its cards fall right (or: if the cards that should fall do so in a perfect musical world) it'll become a rallying cry for neo-punkers everywhere this summer.

That's without the "Bear" at the end, you hipsters. And it's pronounced "banda".

Why? These modern-rock children hail from Monterrey, Mexico. Country and Latin Music Critic Mario Tarradell turned me on to it early last year, and I'm paying attention.

Again: Why? Because Rock en Espanol is a growth market in pop, and bands like El Tri and Aventura aren't the only representatives nowadays. Mexico's a big country, and Monterrey is one of its biggest cities. There's gonna be some talent there.

There's gonna be some lookers, too, and these guys are hunks. (Well, except for "thick" drummer Jorge Vasquez, but he's partially hidden, anyway) Unfortunately, the mix at this outdoor venue isn't doing Panda any favors: the drums are too sharp, the bass too uneven, the vocals too low (and Jose Madiero's singing is already rather raspy). Aww, man ... I was expecting such big things ... it's pretty flat and derivative. Its latest CD, Amantes Suntamentes, is a much better representative. Such is luck sometimes in the music biz ... rehearse, rehearse, rehearse, mi amigos. Develop some stage presence already.

Onward ...

LOVE the dress, Miss Sharin Foo. Black sequins from shoulders to just above the knee, with white-sequined leaves draped across the shouders like oversized Greek epaulets.

Sune Rose Wagner? Just his usual black-and-white horizontal-striped T-shirt. He must have a gazillion of those things ...

The set's over, and it was better than expected. Raveonettes' music is disarmingly simple, based as much as it is on primitive 1950s rock and soul, so in recorded form it doesn't pop like it does live. The punky and romantic nature of Raveonettes' sound really translates on stage, especially when it decided to do a cover, as it did with Stereolab's "French Disco."

Cool that they do their own soundcheck; they don't have to. Not cool that it relies on tracked sounds and rhythm machines for much of its live heft. Again, they don't have to.

I traipsed up to St.David's Episcopal Church to check out angular hipster acoustic guitar hero M. Ward, who I've never seen before. I was excited. I don't dig all of his material - it can get exceedingly spare and ingratiating to my ears at times - but some other stuff is absolute genius. I admire his propensity for innovation, not to mention that's he's a severely underrated guitarist.

I made the line 10 minutes before set time, and stood there for 25 minutes. It moved maybe 30 feet. Then, a SXSW hack ambled outside and announced that it would be at least an hour and a half before anyone else would get in because the venue was at capacity.

Sigh. OK, onward ... to Emo's, where the Raveonettes go on in 30 minutes. It's at capacity, too, but the badge line was short (the wristband line wasn't, heh)

Aaah, there Sharin Foo now, helping to set up. Beautiful, though unusual, since roadies (four are on stage) are a luxury at SXSW; they have to pay (or be paid for) to have access to help out.

Ok! This was worth declaring my adoration to Ms. Merritt. For now.

There's actually a fair amount of Dallas-area figures in the crowd of 125 or so: the new music editor at the Dallas Observer is here, for instance (and he's taking pictures, too).

We're all being treated to some raw but toothsome 1970s-era ... arena gypsy rock? It's very free and unassuming, yet the guitarist, Yonatan Gat, has major rhythm chops, especially considering how much he's moving around ...

And in the middle of the second song, both he and the singer, a curly-haired and handlebar-moustached spaz named Ami Shalev, hit the gravel. The singer uses a tarp for a cape and goes all James Brown amongst the crowd, body-slamming with anyone in range.

Whoa ... that tarp was the mixing board cover! The board op just barged into the pit and grabbed it back. Oooh, the scowl on his face was priceless ...

And now a stagehand helps bring the drum kit down to the rocks. How's that thing gonna work out on a non-flat surface?

Pretty darn well, it turns out. Photographers are everywhere: word's obviously spread about this band's schtick. It's amazingly organic and participative. People are spontaneously body-surfing, and the crowd's completely enclosed the band as if egging on a high-school catfight in mid-scratch and claw.

"We gonna play two more songs!," Mr. Shalev exclaimed. He then proceeded to pour a can of beer (a tallboy, too) over his drummer's kit, fetched a large plastic trash can, dumped its contents onto the drummer and capped the overturned can onto the drummer's head. And the guy didn't miss a beat.

By the end of the set, audience members were banging on drums, pouring beer on the band, giving piggyback rides to Mr. Gat and proclaiming all sorts of warm and fuzzy (emphasis on fuzzy) wishes toward Monotonix.

Israeli punk stoner metal. It RAWKS!!!

I skipped the great and infinitely attractive Tift Merritt for a show that's ALREADY running late? At 8 p.m., the start of the evening's showcases?

Guess so. I'm intrigued by Monotonix, an Israeli pop-metal band that purports to play much of its sets on the floor, at crowd level and often in the crowd.

That'll be a problem on Bourbon Rocks' patio, which is covered in a four-inch layer of gravel. That doesn't exactly lend itself to intense movement, pogoing and the like (at least landings are relatively soft).

We shall see, eh? I'll catch Tift some other time ... maybe even send her flowers ...

Another slideshow! We bring you the bands, the hoards and the streets of Austin from the 22nd annual SXSW music fest.
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5

So it was between Euro-pop chantreuse Robyn (bad review froma friend who saw her in London recently), emo darlings Paramore (at La Zona Rosa, clear across downtown), indie superstars Tapes N' Tapes (also too far away) and this Austin freak-pop act, which recently got a breaking-out writeup in "Spin" and has toured with Rilo Kiley.

That was before the tap dancer was excused in favor of a traditional drum kit - so says former TDMN Music Editor David Okamoto, who's standing beside me. I know little about this band before I caught its quizzically nerdy and spontaneous act at Wall of Sound in Fort Worth last summer and was suitably charmed.

Its starting late. This isn't good. It's sure as heck not fashionable; not at this time of night. It's 1:12, and the band's still sound checking and situating. Balloons, which have been tossed around for the past 15 minutes or so, are starting to drive people a little batty. C'mon, already ...

... and well whadd'ya know: the tap dancer's still around, throwing down a forest-green tutu (OK ... ) with a slate-grey hoodie (hipster alert!). This is a first: soundcheck for a tap dancer ...

... the two female singers (uh?) are acting like they've never soundchecked before ... or maybe its the stage manager ... or the board op ...

... They're done. And they LEAVE THE STAGE? Guess they need the grand opening for the 1 a.m. time slot ...

... and at 1:26, it's on. And it's fabulous. It's reminiscent of a percussive and more ethnic Arcade Fire, with emphasis on harmonies and a barbarian sense of pacing instead of classical instrumentation and orchestral pomp. It also has soul, primarily because of the female singers (dressed, uh, provocatively as they are in gaudy prom dresses) and the thunderous rhythms.

Will you like it? Dunno. It's just good and unique and charming. There's a lot of all three things here at SXSW, but not at the same time. Bravo!

Well now. I now realize that I'm hungry. I haven't eaten anything but a granola bar all day, and Blue Cheer's unbelievably oscillative 40 minutes on stage made my innards chafe since there's nothing in 'em..

Despite that description, it was gooood. Real good. You'll have to read more about on Guidelive.com late tomorrow afternoon to understand why (at least I hope).

Now it's onto a bit of White Denim at Habana Calle 6's patio. Then, a trip to a local Whataburger is in serious order. My intestines need a salve of some sort right about now.

... at Wave to check out PPT's first couple of songs. Erv's such a nice guy, I had to humor him - though no humor's needed for PPT's genre-hopping and genuinely appealing brand of ... well, hip hop's at the core of it. I told Erv this: PPT will be big in England (and he tells me that there's already interest there as PPT's new cd, "Denglish," approaches its April release)

I'm in positiom to be damaged by what's considered by many to be the original heavy metal band - Blue Cheer. It's one of the products of the Haight-Ashbury psychedelic music scene of the late 1960s, and it was originally managed by the Hell's Angels; that should tell you enough.

In the meantime, I'm checking out Austin-based Lions, whose groovy retro metal wowed enough label reps at SXSW 2006 that it almost signed with Roadrunner Records. It didn't, though, deciding instead to go it unassisted by self-releasing its latest, "No Generation," late last year. Lions is solid live, with a sexiness that other band of its ilk (The Sword, Dead Meadow, even Wolfmother, really) lack. But like many of its contemporaries, its character isn't quite broad or mysterious enough. Damn, they can rock, though ... and they must feel honored to play just before one of the bands that made their deal possible.

So I'm at Dallas-based Idol Records' very own night-long showcase at Wave, which is yet another impossibly narrow Sixth Street club.

Still, Idol owner Erv Karwelis landing his own showcase at SXSW is quite a feat, even though he's had them before. What reeks is that I'm here during the evening's only non-Dallas act: Ohio-based roots-punk act Watershed. Mitra and Glen Reynolds performed just before this, and PPT, The Crash That Took Me and Black Tie Dynasty go on afterward.

So, more fresh blood for me ears, matey . Arrr, these guys aren't too shabby, either. Bunches of Midwestern energy, a nice dose of enthusiasm and some well-written up-tempo tuneage is winning me over. Good choice from beyond the Trinity, there, Erv.

OK: gotta make sure I'm in place to catch Blue Cheer at midnight. Gotta think ahead at SXSW, ya know.

So I'll be brutally honest. I'm not all that jazzed about MGMT's debut, "Oracular Spectacular." I think that it's got a few trippy synth-pop moments and that there's some fleeting moments of defined style on it, but overall I find it to be an average CD.

I'm thinking the exact same thing about its live performance at Stubb's. The energy's tired, the enthusiasm muffled, the music's too unfocused and meandering. It's like they can't decide if they want to be My Morning Jacket, Franz Ferdinand or a rootsy version of ELO with a stiff upper lip..

I've heard a number of musicians froth at the mouth over seeing these guys live. But the payoff is too hard to both predict and grab once there. Not enough hooks, not enough virtuosity, not enough transcendence. Sorry. I'm not sold.

So I moseyed over to Emo's to catch Does It Offend You, Yeah?, one of the Brit-punk bands that I'd really wanted to see down here. It looks like fun to watch, and though the name's a bit clunky, it gets a point across ...

... the place was full, and at this point in the evening, yeah. That offends me.

So I'm now one of the mass of at least 2,000 badgeholders who're rapidly filling up Stubb's' backyard (it's a lot like a shrunken version of the North Forty in Fort Worth). They're all here to see MGMT (say 'mangement', dear readers), the latest electro-punk revivalists to generate enough buzz to fill a Toni & Guy's salon.

I'll let ya know how it is in a bit. Gotta find a good vantage point ...

This, I had to see.

Most of you likely know this Dallas native as Ashlee Simpson's old squeeze. In the meantime, Ms. Simpson has released two moderately successful albums. But she's also lip-synced on "Saturday Night Live," stank it up badly during a Super Bowl halftime show, been the recipient of a nice little ol' nose job and hooked up with emo auteur extraordinaire Pete Wentz.

What has Mr. Cabrera done? Eh. He's offered up one or two albums and had token song placements on TV shows - now as much his demographic's stock in trade as pop hits - but otherwise, well, eh.

And now for something completely different. Mr. Cabrera's abandoned the bleach-blonde spike-cut haircut for a shaggy, shoulder-length Bob Schneider-style 'do (and OMG! He's got a moustache! Does that deserve an LOL or a WTF?). He's all of the sudden trying to channel his inner Damien Rice ... or maybe Kid Rock, who he slightly resembles now, especially with the 'stache and this chest-baring, deep-V black shirt that he's throwing down on DirecTV right about now. Be warned: he is completely unrecognizable from what he was.

So what's he sound like now? It's somewhere between OneRepublic and Snow Patrol, with some dark edginess and well-considered synth licks in between an upbeat guitar drive. One can even detect a scoche of emo-pop in the delivery and structures.

"We haven't played live in two and a half years or something like that," he said. Well, now we know what you've been doing in the meantime. At least it wasn't spent moping around, lamenting the loss of his teen idol-hood.

So noe he's throwing out an old hit: "True." Cute. The falsetto still works. And folks, somehow the new look gives this song, which dates back several years, added tenderness. It's not sweet anymore; it's attractive.

Here's a report from pop music critic Thor Christensen, on outsmarting the lines:
Look! There's Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine walking alone on a deserted downtown street. Look! There's Fastball guitarist Miles Zuniga trying to steal the taxi I just flagged down.

Turns out, Mr. Zuniga and I are both headed to see R.E.M., so we share the cab, which works out well for me: I pay the fare, and he gets me into R.E.M. without having to wait two hours in a mile-long line.

At SXSW, that's what they call "schmooze or lose."

Now you can hear and see what Dawn was blogging about (below). Another of our awesome photogs, Nathan Hunsinger, was also at the Big Red Rooster show last night (more like early this morning). He video'd Big Red Rooster on stage, along with the Dallas band's prep and chill time beforehand. Check out the six guys hawk their hair for the show, drink beer, discuss the dynamics of the six-man group and perform at Bourbon Rocks Patio.

• Video: Dallas' Big Red Rooster

Also, band members Reyez and Multi-ID have been live-blogging their SXSW experiences for Playlist. Catch up here.

It took a moment (more on that later), but I'm a Big Red Rooster booster. Their show started at 1 a.m. on the patio at Bourbon Rocks (the BoDeans were playing the main room). Drunk is the outfit of choice, it seems, on Sixth Street after midnight, but I waded through that to get to my destination.

Then, out of rap-where, lead singer Reyez unleashed his falsetto. And that's when I noticed that I was sinking into the gravel and sand (the term "patio" was used very loosely by the venue); My chocolate suede boots will never be the same. But I digress. These guys put out slick music that is a danceable hybrid of every genre they claim to be a member of. I love truth in advertising ...

Check 'em out ...

From Multi-ID of Dallas rap group Big Red Rooster, before its rullll late Thursday night show ...

It is 9:42 the night of the show and I am dressed and ready to go! We got into Austin around 6pm and went straight to registration and load in. We are playing at The Bourbon Rocks Patio. The venue looked sick. I then swung by the hotel and headed over to Phils lil bros apartment here in Austin. We have been just hanging out for a lil bit having some beers. Trying to relax and get everything off our minds except the show. We are about to head over to the venue. The word on the street is that its mayhem. In a good way. We will prob just grab a bite to eat and hit up some bars. We have an interview at Bourbon Rocks before the show at 11. After that its time to rock.

From Reyez of Dallas rap group Big Red Rooster, before its late-late-late Thursday night show ....

Wuzzup yall. Its almost 10 o'clock and the whole band is finally together just chillin getting ready for the show. Its been a long day of travel and preperation and now all we got to do is kill it tonight. We've had a camera man from Dallas Morning News following us around shooting footage of us being us and that's been pretty cool. Now we're going to head out and get a bite to eat and grabb a couple drinks before heading to the venue. We're playing at a spot called Burbon Rocks tonight and when we loaded in earlier the set up was real cool. I heard that the club is packed so that's good news so all that's left to do is do what we do best, KILL IT!!! I'll hit yall after the show.

SXSW describes this Canadian guitarist's genre as "experimental." But in actuality, Kaki King's music is rather traditional as acoustic new age music, which is no longer considered an experimental genre for the most part.

What perhaps keeps Ms. King in the experimental camp is her guitar-playing technique, which incorporates percussive and rhythmic qualities - fret tapping, body slapping, string mashing -seldom heard from a guitarist these days. Think of her as Bootsy Collins mated with Sarah McLachlan, and you'd just about have her approach nailed.

But not quite. Her plain and frank singing voice brings to mind Suzanne Vega, and her diminutive stature (she barely five feet tall) and intense, raven-haired features give her stature among the songstress and emo crowds despite her relatively avant-garde compositions.

Her latest, "Dreaming of Revenge," is more electrified and mainstream than any of her previous albums. Her showcase at the 18th Floor of the Hilton Garden Hotel was a fitting meld of edgy quaintness and technical brevity, and with a full five-piece rock band to