It's never been easy to get quality sleep during SXSW, and with so many great day parties and afterparties, it's proving to be even more difficult this year. There are all sorts of ways to build up stamina, but I think one of the most important things to remember is that just because you can drink for free at noon doesn't necessarily mean you should do it.
12:45 p.m.: Bound Stems are back in action at the Lucky Lounge, where the sound and smell are about 100 times better than they were at the Lava Lounge on Wednesday. I'm not sure if there's any free booze, but everyone's walking around with boxes of shoes that are being given away. Sounds like a good idea until I realize I'll have to lug them around with me for the next 13 hours or so. Thanks, but no thanks.
3:00 p.m.: A day-party schedule that I printed out from some website says that the almighty Go! Team is supposed be going on right now at the Spin party at Stubb's, but as I make it through the gates I realize I'm hearing the last notes of the last song in the band's set. The Stills follow with a fairly boring performance, but We Are Scientists continue to convince me that I actually like them, even if they are just another dance-rock band along for the ride. Apparently Charlatans UK are still together and are on next, but I can't get myself to care enough to stick around.
5:40 p.m.: It's hard to understand half of what the guy in Art Brut is singing about, but the parts I can make out are pretty funny (especially the song about his little brother finding rock 'n' roll). It's hard to tell if this British art-rock band will still be interesting in a year, but right now it sounds great.
10:15 p.m.: After much hemming and hawing about where I'm going to start my night (Head Of Femur at Habana Calle 6? Ariel Pink at Fox And Hound? The Heavenly States at Antone's?), I decide to see Sukpatch at Latitude 30 and almost instantly regret it. Like the Charlatans, I had no idea Sukpatch was still around, and from the sound of things, apparently this Minneapolis band forgot that it used to make great beatsy pop that was like a more drugged-out, less eager version of Beck. Now Sukpatch is just a run-of-the-mill indie-rock band. Sadly, Toto, we aren't in the mid-'90s anymore.
11:05 p.m.: With basically every interesting show at 11 sporting a line around the block, I decide to leave civilization and make the trek east for the Fiery Furnaces show at Red's Scoot Inn. Though there's a line to get into this unofficial SXSW event, I find my friends sitting on a hill behind the venue that's just high enough to allow for a perfect view of the stage. There's no denying that the Friedbergers are rocking the place with all their might, but once I realize that they're not going to start throwing punches at each other, I kind of stop paying attention.
2:05 a.m.: Back in the mess, I decide to finish off St. Patrick's Day with Northern Ireland-born Snow Patrol at Stubb's, and am a bit underwhelmed by the band's dramatic pop. Maybe it's all that Shiner I've been drinking, but suddenly everything starts to sound like the Goo Goo Dolls. It's time to get some sleep.