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My 2010 SXSW Thursday began (and ended) where it almost always does on SXSW Thursdays: at the day party and evening showcase for Small Stone Records. The Detroit label has long championed the 70s hard rock revival in all its forms, especially the music that falls under the misleading term “stoner rock,” and it had an especially good lineup this year, drawn mostly from its own ranks but with a few guests mixed in. That it took place in Encore, a new club anxious to prove its worth in the Live Music Capital of the World gave the event an extra kick.
Parking issues meant I missed WHITEY MORGAN & THE 78S (possibly the greatest outlaw country band around right now) and came in late for guests CHYLDE – what I heard sounded like solid psychedelic heavy rock. The first band whose full set I caught was KILLA DILLA, an unsigned Austin act with which I was completely unfamiliar. The drums/guitar duo incorporated a bit of VAN HALEN tapping into its otherwise traditional heavy blues rock sound, based on a guitar tone so thick it should be an UMBERTO ECO novel. The twosome covered ZZ TOP‘s “Jesus Just Left Chicago” to fine effect, as well as offering up slightly goofy but convincing originals like “Rock and Roll Mountain.”
Next up was another act that isn’t signed to SS but is a longtime friend: MAGNET SCHOOL. The last time I’d heard this Austin quartet it was a solid if unspectacular indie jangle quartet with slight dreampop tendencies. The band has apparently developed the latter penchant, as it went from jangle pop to heavy psych to shoegaze with ease, often within the same song. To my ears it’s a big improvement. Yet another Austin band, but one signed to the label, followed – the ever challenging and entertaining TIA CARRERA. The psychedelic power trio led by guitarist JASON MORALES improvises every performance, even in the studio, so it never plays the same piece of music twice. In this case it meant two songs that drowned JIMI HENDRIX in cosmic acid, with Morales and the new bassist switching instruments midway through the first tune, and a guest vocalist joining in during the second. Thanks to both the band’s intensity and the sense that its members really love to do this, the improvs never got boring or annoying. Incredibly loud, though – that it got.
Portland, Maine, is not a town I’d expect to be a hotbed of hard rock, but the city’s SUN GODS IN EXILE make me wonder. The frontman seemed somewhat detached at first, and the other guitarist seemed intent on overwhelming everybody else with volume, but overall it was a good performance, boasting a power and fury not quite captured on the group’s SS LP. The closing song, which starts as a ballad a la LYNYRD SKYNYRD‘s “Simple Man” before revving up to MOTORHEAD velocity, was its most impressive. Following the Gods was an Austin institution and author of SS classic Balls Out Inn – the funloving HONKY. Led by ex-*BUTTHOLE SURFERS* bassist JEFF PINKUS, the trio introduced itself as the SMITHS, “but we started eating meat and growing hair on our chests.” The band’s heavy boogie, whipped into a riff-rocking tornado by the casual six-string mastery of BOBBY ROCK, carried the kind of good vibe that only comes from musicians that clearly are having a ball (as evidenced by the members’ frequent grins). A pisstake on ZZ Top? Maybe, but the musicianship is far too good to pass Honky off as a joke.
Next up was the band featuring the boss. SS owner/manager SCOTT HAMILTON plays guitar in LUDER, the outfit that grew out of a previous SXSW performance by SLOT on the occasion of the release of its outtakes record The Sweet Black Bear (well worth tracking down). Joined by guitarist PHIL DURR (formerly of BIG CHIEF, currently with FIVE HORSE JOHNSON and GIANT BRAIN), drummer ERIC MILLER and, most importantly, Slot bassist/vocalist SUE LOTT, Hamilton poured a hard-edged but beautiful miasma of melody and noise all over the stage, enthusiastically blending psychedelic shoegaze pop with forthright Midwestern hard rock. The mix wasn’t as kind as it could have been; Lott’s ethereal singing was so far back in the mix it was almost subliminal, and Hamilton’s volume nearly crushed all that came before it. But the ensuing wall of acid grunge textures was an almost sublimely sensual pleasure.
Luder was followed by THROTTLEROD, a South Carolina trio that attempted to resurrect the mid-90s punky alternative metal sounds of bands like QUICKSAND. Unfortunately, its lack of memorable songs kept its hard-hitting sounds from making a deep impression. The band is a favorite of Hamilton, though, so maybe he hears something I don’t. Besides, it was hard to remember Throttlerod had even been on the bill once the BROUGHT LOW claimed the stage to promote its brilliant new album Third Record. Led by guitarist/vocalist BENJAMIN HOWARD SMITH, the New York trio rolls as much as it rocks, giving rootsy but heavy rockers “Vernon Jackson,” “Old Century” and “A Better Life” a swing nobody else on the bill had. Add Smith’s twangy voice (a nice contrast to the gritty baritones everywhere else), impeccable guitar chops and willing submersion into the music and you have the most thrilling, soulful show of the evening. “Blues For Cubby” closed the Low’s set with a bluesy, ass-kicking epic that lingered in the enthusiastic crowd’s memory long after the amps were turned off. This was probably the show I was most excited about this year, and it didn’t disappoint.
The Brought Low may have been the end-all/be-all for me tonight, but the ever-amazing SASQUATCH gave the Low a run for its money. The L.A. power trio falls more easily into the stoner rock camp, boasting plenty of heavy rock riffs and undulating tempos. But Sasquatch sets itself apart with soulful singing, a subtle sense of swing and, most significantly, guitarist KEITH GIBBS‘s superior sense of melody, which puts tunes like “What Have You Done” and “Pull Me Under” head-and-shoulders above their brethren. Like the Brought Low, Sasquatch is supporting its third record III, and, like the Low’s opus, it’s the band’s best album yet, which resulted in an exceptionally strong performance.
Speaking of third records, Boston’s SOLACE has been working on its long-overdue entry for years now. But the record is finally in the mastering stage, and the band ready to prove both the new material and the group itself had the goods. With a sound analogous to the long-running Chicago cult act TROUBLE, the band has always been more metallic than most of the stoner hordes, particularly due to singer JASON‘s high-pitched screech. Now he’s added hardcore-derived shouting to his vocal repertoire, pushing Solace into the metal arena once and for all. The frontdude seemed more passionate about the new songs than the old, but the heavy-as-hell riffology remained the same regardless. The set ended with axes in the air and a howl of fury, exhausting band and audience alike.
Which meant, of course, that the next group decided to kick the energy level up a notch. Indio, California trio HOUSE OF BROKEN PROMISES came out of the gate blazing, eager to show what it had to offer the hard-rocking hordes. Basically the promising but underachieving group UNIDA, minus great but fickle singer JOHN GARCIA (KYUSS etc.), the band’s hard-charging stoner biker boogie could’ve used a few more memorable melodies, but cuts like “The Hurt” made up in energy what they lacked in finesse. TRINIDAD LEAL, drummer/singer for headliners DIXIE WITCH, joined the House for a set-closing cover of Unida’s “Black Woman.”
Speaking of the Witch, the Austin trio closed out the night with a powerhouse set of earthy hard rock & roll. Showing off new guitarist J.T. SMITH, a more flamboyant axeslinger than his predecessor, the band blasted out a tight set of both old (“Out in the Cold”) and new (“Destiny”) tunes. There’s a joy to a Dixie Witch performance that isn’t often associated with hard rock, and it radiates from Leal, one of Austin’s best frontmen. His ability to sing with a voice built for hard rock (the way Merle Haggard’s is for country and Stevie Wonder’s is for soul) while still beating the unholy crap out of his drum kit seems to give him a pleasure he’s happy to share with any audience that wants to listen. That kind of joy is infectious, and the crowd responded with almost rabid enthusiasm, shutting down the night in fine fashion.
It’s always amazing to me that the Small Stone showcase has never attracted the kind of press attention it deserves – you’d be hard-pressed to find a more consistently good lineup anywhere else during SXSW. I suppose I shouldn’t complain. The lack of hipsters and buzz-hunters keeps the atmosphere intact – the bands and their fans support each other and the whole show is always as much about seeing old friends as it is hearing some jams. The amplifier hum can fade into the night, but I hope the family vibe never does.
