South By Southwest (Austin, TX) Saturday, March 20, 2010

Today was the most wildly uneven day of SXSW 2010, for a variety of reasons, including the annual unseasonable SXSW cold snap that plunged temperatures from the lower 70s to the lower 40s. But there was definitely more good than bad.

My first stop was the Red-Eye Fly. I was there to catch NICOLE ATKINS, but I got there just as a band called the MYNABIRDS was beginning its set. It ended up being fortuitous timing, as the young quintet displayed a lot of talent and promise. With arrangements based around the leader’s electric piano and wan but soulful singing, the ‘Birds’ sound freely mixed soul, pop and Americana, for a blend not unlike what NORAH JONES proffers, but more full-bodied. It’s always nice to hear a band respectful of tradition but not constrained by it, and when the Mynabirds’ Saddle Creek debut arrives in April, the rest of the world will hopefully hear it as well.

Atkins came up next. She was accompanied by ROBERT HARRISON, former leader of the much-beloved Austin psych pop act COTTON MATHER, currently majordomo of Mather’s successor FUTURE CLOUDS & RADAR. The pair have been composing music together, both for Atkins’ forthcoming new record and for a side project. Due to a loud band in the next room threatening to drown them out, the duo played only four songs. But what songs they were – sort of a contemporary pop spin on torch songs, the tunes were melodic and tasteful, excellent showcases for Atkins’ intelligent lyrics and gorgeous singing. The place was full during her performance, so I’m guessing she’s got an audience waiting when her album comes out this summer.

I then headed to the Mean Eyed Cat, a dive bar in West Austin that was hosting Mojo magazine’s annual SXSW barbecue and day party. I was hoping to catch another set by the JIM JONES REVUE, but a throat ailment on Jones’ part put paid to that idea. Instead I arrived midway through a set by GEMMA RAY (more on her later) and was then treated to a performance by DENGUE FEVER. I’d previously dismissed the psych/Cambodian pop group as a novelty, with uncomfortable overtones of American musicians taking advantage of a foreign waif. It didn’t take more than a song to prove how wrong I’ve been. The band is shit-hot, serious musicians making playful music with precision and care, and the singer has the self-assurance any frontperson should possess. And it’s always good to hear a group that makes dance music without relying on programmed beats. Novelty? No way.

After a dinner break, I was off to the Tap Room @ Six, site of the Second Motion showcase. Second Motion is a fine label and management company that’s become home for a lot of 80s/90s musical refugees – not to feed the nostalgia market, mind you, but to prove that these artists are still relevant. That said, the evening began with a couple of upstarts. First was the WALLS, an Irish group led by two singing/songwriting brothers. The pair hadn’t the money to bring a full band on tour, so they took the unusual tack of creating a film of their bandmates performing the songs. It’s been done before, of course – the FLAMING LIPS did this while touring their breakthrough THE SOFT BULLETIN. The difference here is that the footage was produced for the brothers to interact with, as if it was a live feed from Ireland. It added a welcome humor to the proceedings, nicely complimenting pop mini-anthems like “It Goes Without Saying” and “Carrying the Fire.” Occasionally their tunes sounded like intros to something that was going to explode, but never did, which gave some of the performance a sluggish air. Overall, however, there’s a ton of promise here.

Gemma Ray came next. As I mentioned earlier, I came across her at the Mojo barbecue that afternoon. I didn’t know then what to make of her mixture of old and new: retro 60s dress and hairstyle, songs based on old country, folk and blues forms, big, hollowbody, open-tuned guitar (usually played with a bottleneck, occasionally with a hacksaw or butcher knife), all joined by electronics providing loops, orchestral swells, vocal filtering and drum programmes. It’s a very carefully crafted theatrical presentation, but it’s meant as an enhancement, not a cover-up. Ray can definitely sing and play, and if her set concentrated on covers (she has an album of other folks’ songs dropping later this year), she made ALEX HARVEY‘s “Swamp Snake” and Mudhoney’s “Touch Me, I’m Sick” (damn near unrecognizable) completely her own.

Following the intriguing Ray was another compelling figure, and one of the reasons I was here. MARTY WILLSON-PIPER released the excellent Nightjar last year on Second Motion, and was here with his harmony/life partner TIARE HELBERG to promote it. But not only did the moonlighting CHURCH guitarist play album cuts like “Lullaby For the Lonely” and “The Love You Never Had,” he also dipped into the rest of his long catalog, including songs from his previous solo LP Hanging Out in Heaven, a tune from his NOCTORUM side project, one of his girlfriend’s songs (the lovely “If I Fall”) and one of his best songs from his main band, “Tristesse,” with which he opened the show. With a set shot through with both good humor (he had to compete with not only a talkative audience but the annoying thump-thump-thump of the dance club next door) and excellent musicianship (it’s always nice to hear an acoustic 12-string in the hands of someone who really knows what to do with it), Willson-Piper laid down a brief but often beautiful set that reminded us that he’s more than just STEVE KILBEY‘s foil in the Church. The emotional high point was a cover of BIG STAR‘s “Thirteen,” performed in honor of the late ALEX CHILTON.

Speaking of power pop, one of its greatest practitioners was on hand for the next set. Accompanied by a band driven by his fifteen-year-old drumming nephew, TOMMY KEENE showed any aspiring songwriter (not to mention a few veterans) how it’s done, with a sterling set of ace guitar pop from the length and breadth of his catalog. Visiting everything from his most recent album In the Late Bright (“Late Bright”) to his 90s work (“Turning On Blue” from Ten Years After, “Long Time Missing” from Isolation Party) and his 80s gem Based On Happy Times (“High Wire Days”), Keene almost casually displayed his mastery of both the pop song form and the guitar work that powers it. He closed with rousing takes on two of his oldest classics, “Back to Zero Now” and “Places That Are Gone,” perfect examples of straightforward songcraft, melody and musicianship. His set was pure pleasure.

After Keene and Willson-Piper, it was going to take a great performance to top them, and I was hoping GRANT HART‘s would be it. I haven’t seen the singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist since he fronted NOVA MOB, so I was surprised by his gaunt appearance. Even more surprising was that he clearly did not want to be there, despite a full room of longtime fans eager to hear whatever the reluctant road warrior would bestow upon us. The songlist was excellent, from solo hits like “2541,” “Come Come” and the recent “You’re the Reflection of the Moon On the Water” to a couple of Nova Mob songs and a cover of EDDIE COCHRAN‘s “Cut Across Shorty.” And, of course, a handful of tunes from the catalog of his old band HUSKER DU, including “Flexible Flyer,” “Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill,” “Never Talking to You Again” and “Books About UFOs.” Hart’s voice also retains its vaunted power (even he suffers from the occasional intonation problem). But his old Gibson went out of tune every time someone opened the front door and left another blast of cold air in, which set him on edge, and the incessant chatter got to him to such a degree he blasted audience members over it – twice. The audience’s rudeness was never in doubt; however, a veteran musician should know better than to lash out – it just makes the artist look petulant. (Willson-Piper dealt with the same situation more effectively using humor.) It cast a bit of a pall over what was otherwise a solid performance.

The closing set came from ADAM FRANKLIN & BOLTS OF MELODY. Readers of this magazine/website are certainly familiar with BT favorite Franklin, who led SWERVEDRIVER in the 90s. His current work isn’t a million miles away from his old band’s – he still deals in loud, fuzzy, textured guitar music, not exactly shoegaze, but close enough to appeal to fans. Franklin isn’t the most personable or outgoing performer, but he and the Bolts wove a mostly beautiful spell simply by playing well. The set ended with the dreamiest number on the setlist, sending patrons home with a warm glow instead of a sweaty stagger. Nothing wrong with that.

SXSW 2010: Wednesday
SXSW 2010: Thursday
SXSW 2010: Friday