(Extremely long post warning)
Wednesday:
The first band I went to check out was playing at Elysium, which sucked because A.) they're the only club to insist on checking my bag, and B.) having checked my bag , they confiscated the one lousy bottle of water I brought with me. It wouldn't have pissed me off quite as much except for the fact that they are the only club that does this. This is also the club that famously kicked out a local music journalist for smoking a J.

The Minni-Thins
Ugh. Crappy pseudo noise-punk from Newport KY. I caught half of one song and the first half of another, and decided these guys weren't worth my time, considering that next door at Beerland was playing:
The Bad Rackets
Ahhh, that's more like it. Some good local boys with a love of the Heartbreakers and the Ramones. I'd caught them a few weeks earlier at a cool punk dive bar/pizza joint (which has the best pizza in town, seriously) called The Parlor. They seemed a bit off their game, but still played a good set. Their album "Full on Blown Apart" is out on Mortville Records, and is well worth checking out if you're into the above named bands.
So, after that lovely bit of ear candy, it was off to Club de Ville to see:
Lou Lou and The Guitarfish
Not bad. Fun punk rock-y stuff from San Francisco, but veering a bit close to the pop crap that passes for punk these days. Still, they rocked decently enough, although the singer seems like she's been listening to too much Pretty Girls Make Graves. I give 'em an A for effort, and because the singer was so goddamn adorable.
I grabbed a beer, hung out for a bit, and decided to check out the next band, Birdman labelmates:
The Nice Boys
Huh, apparently their amps don't go to eleven. Decent Cheap Trick wannabes from Portland, OR, with the silliest hair I saw all night. I suppose if I was into that sort of thing, I would have been entertained, but I'm not, so I wasn't. I went back to Beerland, popped a quarter into the Galaga cab (and scored terribly, natch), and waited to see:
The Trashies
Fuck yeah! Nasty, kick-ass, beer and meth fueled madness from Seattle. I don't know what was cooler, the fact that they announced a cover of Black Flag's "Six Pack", only to then play something completely different, or the fact that they kept spitting on each other. Awesome!
My GF was with me, and I didn't want to monopolize the whole night with stuff I liked, so I offered to go to The Parish to check out:
The Young Knives
Okay, here's how the Austin Chronicle's Marc Savlov described these guys:
"Ever wonder what would have happened to Joy Division if Ian Curtis hadn't gone and tied one on? Oxford, England's Young Knives have gone Transgressive Records with their EP Junky Music Make My Heart Beat Faster, assaults with battering drum work and thick Peter Hook-ish basslines, overlaid with punchy, upfront vocals that mine both London '79 and New York '80. Clearly, they've lost control."
Right...

Now, I like Joy Division (as does my GF), so were we disappointed. Really, these guys sucked harder than any other band I saw all night. I believe the best way to describe 'em is, as their fellow countrymen would say, twee. Ugh. And although one of the basslines did sound pretty Joy Division, I highly doubt Ian Curtis would have been singing in a falsetto, had he lived. My GF agreed that these guys sucked balls, so after just two songs we split, and went over to The Red-Eyed Fly to peep:
Jedi Mind Tricks
Okay, I've got to rant a bit here. First of all, it should be said that I love hiphop, ever since I first heard the likes of Grandmaster Flash, Melle Mel, and Kurtis Blow in the fourth grade. And I've been to well over a hundred hiphop shows over the years, going back to the days when I was one of the few, if not the only, light-skinned guys in attendance. But the thing that righteously pisses me off at almost every show is what I call "hiphop time". For the love of fuck, will someone tell me why no hiphop show can actually start on time?! I mean, damn, these guys have the least amount of equipment to set up, and yet, no one is able to start a show that isn't at least 30 minutes late.
Now, at any other time, I can forgive this, but at SXSW, when there are literally thirty other bands playing at the same moment, my time is precious. Every minute I waste waiting for an artist to get off their ass and get on stage is a minute I could be seeing someone else. After wasting almost half a Saturday a couple of years ago waiting to see Prince Paul and the Automator, only to witness what someone else best described as a "contemptuous non-performance", my patience with this kind of bullshit is gone. </rant>
I waited fifteen minutes after start time, but Jedi Mind Tricks were a no-show. Fuck 'em. I headed back to Elysium, where my bag was checked by the trollish door chick yet again, to catch the last half of:
Lesbians on Ecstasy
An aptly-named group, if I ever saw one. Four women-who-like-women from Montreal playing a decent mix of Industrial and Gabber, who were clearly having a ball. Not great, but their ebullience was infectious. A good time.
After that, I went to the cramped confines of Jackalope to catch the insanity that is:
The Rebel

Wow. I guess the best way to describe these guys and gal from London is if you imagine the unholy offspring of Jad Fair, Daniel Johnston, and Eugene Chadbourne as channeled through Mark E. Smith on heavy pharmaceuticals. Throw in a heaping dose of jangly guitars and jarring synth, and you're there. Seriously awesome stuff. Oh, and the drummer was cute.
Time for one more, so I hopped down to Room 710 for the last band of the night:
Gogogo Airheart
Ties for my favorite band of the evening (with The Trashies). Fantastic four-piece from San Diego, mixing equal parts early PiL and Alice Donut, with a splash of Dead Kennedys and a slice of old-school Sly and Robbie. An excellent cap to an overall fun evening.
Thanks for reading. More to come tomorrow...