SXSW is generally a big, drunken mess, and so is St. Patrick's Day obviously, so mixing the two is probably a terrible idea. Today, out-of-towners join with locals to create a mass of humanity well beyond the legal blood-alcohol limit. St. Pat's aside, SXSW reached its peak intensity on day three, making it just exhausting enough to wake up on Saturday and think to yourself, "Oh God, there's another whole day left."
12:29 p.m. – Two members of a band sit in a Schlotzsky's sandwich shop at Congress and Sixth Street and discuss their lead singer: "I think the qualities that make him an asshole also make him a good lead singer," one says. The other counters that it's part of the "good guys, bad band" phenomenon: Nice people make shitty music. Not really, but whatever works for them…
1:56 p.m. – Reverend Dave Ciancio of The Syndicate (who manages screamo band Thursday) snags what he says is his 42nd pair of sneakers at the Riot Act Media/Flameshovel Records showcase. He apparently has 41 pairs of Vans and, now, one pair of retro-looking Sauconys.
2:48 p.m. – Comedian Eugene Mirman hosts the Merge/Sub Pop party. He does a bit about a band who sent him a MySpace message (they were opening for Badfish, apparently the best Sublime tribute band), and they wanted him to come. He answers with a disturbing message that includes "The worst thing I've ever done is shit on a cat in its sleep."
3:10 p.m. – Band Of Horses begins their set at the party, though it's marred by constant mic problems. Frontman Ben Bridwell redoes his lyrics to say it's their worst show ever. Everyone laughs.
3:40 p.m. – Back at the Flameshovel party, Headphones–the newish project by David Bazan of Pedro The Lion–has his own mic problems, this time with a stand that won't stay up. He prefaces a song later with a bit of history about how the Romans privatized their army just before their empire fell. "I pray America crumbles soon," he says. Umm…
4:20 p.m. – Legendary '90s punk band Lifetime, who broke up in '97 but reunited last year, begin their set at Emo's. (My Chemical Romance is the not-so-secret headliner.) The crowd erupts. After surveying the people, frontman Ari Katz says, "This is the most girls there's been at a Lifetime show ever."
4:29 p.m. – A guy with a visible bald spot stage dives during Lifetime. People run and jump off stage continuously during their set, and the crowd itself jumps up and down, moshes, and generally freaks out the whole time. The group's members clearly didn't expect such an ecstatic reception, but they're loving it.
5 p.m. – Lifetime finishes, and a kid who's walking by enthusiastically asks me, "That didn't just happen, did it? I can't believe that just happened!"
5:23 p.m. – Just how big of a deal was it that Lifetime played? After My Chemical Romance takes the stage (to much squealing from young girls in the audience), frontman Gerard Way says, "The greatest fucking honor of our lives is to play with Lifetime."
6:43 p.m. – New York buzz band We Are Scientists begin their second song in a conference room on the 18th floor of the Capitol Place hotel. The room couldn't be more awkward for a live performance, but at least it's being broadcast on Minnesota Public Radio.
7:25 p.m. – A giant MySpace bus gets mobbed by kids on Fifth Street. They disappear inside of it as it pulls away, perhaps never to be seen or heard from again.
8:49 p.m. – Members of female trio The Like sign the autograph wall at Arirang sushi on Sixth Street. One member draws a big heart, then writes "The Like are cunts 4 eva" inside of it.
10:58 p.m. – Eric Bachmann (Crooked Fingers, Archers Of Loaf) begins a set in a restaurant on the 18th floor of the Capitol Place hotel. He's occasionally accompanied by a violinist and another singer in a room that's only slightly less awkward than the one We Are Scientists used. It looks like he's providing entertainment at a corporate event, but Bachmann plays an amazing, intimate set filled with a lot of solid new material.
11 p.m. – Booking company Billions has a showcase at Antone's (the line to get in wraps around the corner), a famous blues club. Maybe it isn't famous, but all the crap you can buy with "Antone's" on it makes it seem that way. Antone's merch takes an entire wall, which is illuminated by nine track lights. There are 23 different T-shirt designs, three tank-top designs, underwear, sweatshirts, mugs, hats, Stevie Ray Vaughan devotional candles, and old promotional posters. Meanwhile, bands merch is relegated to a couple of crappy tables in a dimly lit, easily ignored corner.
12:07 a.m. – Binky Griptite, guitarist and emcee for The Dap-Kings (blues maven Sharon Jones' backing band), warms up the crowd before Jones makes an appearance. He tells the bartenders to turn off the TV over the bar: "There's only one show going on here tonight."
1 a.m. – The crowd waits as Neko Case and her band set their gear up on stage. A clearly intoxicated man standing next to me (who later caterwauls along with Case at an obnoxious volume) talks to his friend:
Drunk guy: "Dude, when I flew to Baltimore, [Case]'s in American Way magazine. You know what that means, don't you? It's all over."
[About 30 seconds pass.]
His friend: "I'm driving you home."[Laughs.]
1:27 a.m. – Case laments her choice of pants. "I have a bit of a camel toe going on right now," she says, laughing, and requests people don't take photos of it. Everyone cheers, particularly the dudes. Her backup singers, Kelly Hogan and Rachel Flotard, laugh before Flotard says, "Really? We have a moose's paw over here. It's clams' night out, if you know what I mean." The crowd roars.
1:30 a.m. – Case sings, "Pleeeeeeeeeease, don't let him die," a line from "Star Witness" on Fox Confessor Brings The Flood. It's possibly the most gut-wrenching song she's written, and it's even more brutal live.
1:41 a.m. – A woman standing in front of me–who's wearing furry black wings on her back–keeps taking photos over herself from above. She takes at least half a dozen for some reason.
1:42 a.m. – After Case plays "Dirty Knife," another new track, a woman standing behind me says to her friend, "How 'bout wow." Indeed. She adds a few minutes later, "She's blowing my mind! I'm going to buy all of her albums tomorrow!"
2 a.m. – While Case performs, the club's staff enters the crowd, dragging garbage cans, and takes people's drinks away. They're not fucking around about last call.
2 a.m. – The drunken masses spill from other clubs and bars, giving the whole area a Mardi Gras, Girls Gone Wild kind of feel. Mounted police turn on to Sixth Street and begin sweeping everyone out, just like they do in New Orleans. Or used to.