For the record, we are currently writing away at Denny’s, which is the only place still open within shooting distance of our hotel (I think that analogy is fitting, given the neighborhood we’re in). I’m going with the All-American Slam, whereas Brendan is going with the Mega French Toast Slam. MEGA. Also worth noting: we split a cab home tonight with half of
Idolator, the candid and hilarious music blog that we wish we were candid and hilarious enough to write.
Another day, another 30 bands. I cannot feel my legs from standing for 10 hours, but hell – wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Once we made it downtown (as you may have noticed, I crashed kind of hard last night), we caught the phenomenal five piece band
Via Audio from New York City. In a rather impromptu performance at the Pete Townsend tribute show, they played a dark version of Behind Blue Eyes – a ballsy choice, but they pulled it off. Check back Sunday for an in depth interview conducted by our honorary copy editor and resident Texan, Kevin Eskowitz.
El-P rocked the back room at Red Eye Fly, thoroughly confusing the greasy indie-pop kids who were expecting to see something a bit more obscure and/or inaccessible. Sorry guys, he doesn’t give a shit that your Chucks are vintage. Go ride your fixie to the Levi’s showcase.
Then we decided to roam around and find a random club to wander into – and upon asking a bouncer at Emo’s, discovered that none other than
Architecture in Helsinki was about to take the stage. Surrounded by the aforementioned greasy indie-pop kids, we were treated to a frenetic drum machine-fueled set that even made tired (and half drunk) Brendan dance. The sound guy wasn’t receptive to the crowd’s demands for “ONE-MORE-SONG! ONE-MORE-SONG!,” and the dance party ended as abruptly as it began.
Architecture in Helsinki would have been my clear choice for the best show of the day, but New Orleans, LA based
Mute Math gave them a run for their money. Vocalist Paul Meany flipped over (yes, flipped over) his keyboard so hard that he broke it – and after his poor tech managed to hotwire it back on amongst the on-stage chaos, Meany proceed to jump all over it again. By my count, they broke two microphone stands, one floor tom, at least one microphone, and of course the keyboard. By some stroke of luck, however, the Keytar stayed intact – and he shamelessly rocked it for the rest of the set. The whole band is terrifyingly talented at their respective instruments, but they didn’t let their technical prowess overpower Meany’s hooky songwriting. See them sometime if you get the chance.
The ubiquitous
Andrew Bird held his own in front of the curious but unfamiliar Stubbs crowd, and played a wonderful set assisted by
Dosh on drums and keys. Admittedly, he is best seen in an intimate club rather than a massive outdoor venue. Didn't disappoint, though.
We closed the night out with my own hometown heroes, the veteran Minneapolis, MN based
The Honeydogs. With horn section in tow, they plowed through old favorites and selections from their 2006 release,
Amygdala. Thankfully, they brought enough energy to the stage to make up for the lackluster band that preceded them. Had it not been for all of the free vodka & red bulls we had just consumed at the Purevolume party, I would have passed out from boredom. Thanks to The Honeydogs for being the auditory caffeine I needed to prepare me for the obligatory hour long post-closing-time mad dash to find a cab.
Is it 6 AM already? Damn. Tomorrow, we invade the SXSW Conference (talking instead of rocking), where I will geek out over all of the panels and presenters from every corner of the music business. Cheers!
