SXSW Saturday: Savages, Robyn Hitchcock, The Relatives, Bleached, Parquet Courts, Moon Taxi, Vampire Weekend

Historically, Saturday, the last day of SXSW, tends to be the thinnest day of the week. Most of the bands and quite a large number of industry folk flee town before the weekend, smartly avoiding the mass exodus on Sunday and the overwhelming crowds that descend upon Sixth Street in hordes that seem greater than normal. Unlike the Olympics, there are no “official” closing ceremonies but unofficially John Fogerty, Vampire Weekend and Justin Timberlake will play “closing” sets. Oh yes, there’s also Prince, but that seems to be Samsung-sponsored boondoggle and it’s unclear whether badge holders are even encouraged to go. Timberlake’s gig appears to be a guerrilla-style affair with the location being tweeted by MySpace like a siren call during the day. Yes, I too am surprised that MySpace has money to afford this.

[Vampire Weekend Photo by @kiasuchick]

Despite the fact that there is no MOG showcase this year, the line for Mohawk extends well down Red River and the day showcases are filling up much earlier with locals making SXSW their Saturday activity.

At the All Things Go Music/Indieshuffle day party, Haerts, from Germany are entertaining a crowd that would be deemed healthy under normal circumstances but for shortly after noon, it’s quite impressive. From Germany, you would have to think that the odd spelling of their name owes less to a Gaelic homage to the Irish on St. Patrick’s Day and more to solid advice from their intellectual property attorneys. Their set consists of pleasing pop that flows nicely from one song to the next.

Afterwards, The 1975 offer a complementary set of either pop-inflected rock or rock-inflected pop. The Manchester band’s name didn’t quite convey anything about the band as the lads were clearly born after that year and their style bears little relation to the music of the Seventies. The bassist was rocking a vintage Darius Miles Clippers jersey which had entertainment value in its own right.

Perhaps Friday’s snarkiness towards SPIN magazine and their RSVP policy needs to be toned down a little, if not retracted in its entirety. With people descending on downtown Austin like the bugs on the soldiers in Starship Troopers, the non-discriminatory restricted access (you RSVP’d, you got a pass) resulted in a sunny, sometimes brutally so, oasis just off of Sixth Street.

Bleached, one of the buzziest bands from SXSW 2012 have returned with less fanfare this year. Fronted by three women, they are harder edged, less homey garage rock version of Those Darlins. With their nice harmonies and aggressive guitars, Bleached gives you an idea of what Best Coast might sound like if Bethany Cosentino didn’t sit around smoking dope all day with her cat.

[Bleached Photo by @e_schmeed]

The all-female Savages from the U.K. were simply a revelation and are everything you might want from a young rock band. Full of attitude bordering on pathological disdain, Savages aural assault and angry patois are like placing Patti Smith with Black Sabbath’s rhythm section. Just before the end of their 25-minute set, lead singer Jehnny Beth, full of righteous anger not seen since Sinead O’Connor at her most assured and confident, proclaimed that this was their last set of the week and declared SXSW a “fucking horrible festival.” If for no other reason than everyone in the attendance seemed to be a writer that immediately scribbled praise for what they had just seen, you will hear much more about Savages in the ensuing months.

Cloud Nothings closed SPIN’s Easy Tiger stage with a shorter and slightly different set from their Brooklyn Vegan Emo’s set. Wasted Days remains the tour de force and Baldi sang it with an unparalleled intensity, screaming the final refrain of “I thought I would be more than” until he turned red in the face. Only 21, Dylan Baldi is a rock legend in the making.

After catching a brief portion of Surfer Blood’s set at the Cedar Street Courtyard, it’s over to The Ginger Man for Robyn Hitchcock’s 60th birthday celebration. Before the guest of honor took the stage, Chris Stamey from the dbs, and Ken Stringfellow (with R.E.M.’s Mike Mills on bass) sandwiched a set by The Relatives.

[The Relatives Photo by @mikexican]

Formed in 1970, The Relatives hold true to the soul power performing ethic that began in the Sixties with The Temptations and The Four Tops and continued through the Seventies with The Spinners and The Whispers. Lined across the stage in matching silver vests and pants, The Relatives danced in unison while sharing the vocals and a variety of traditionally structured soul songs. Much to the delight of their leader, The Relatives nearly stole Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears’ SXSW set at ACL Live a couple years back with their embodiment of vintage soul. Five decades in music will also produce a fine head for the business as a couple members of the band strolled through the crowd to hawk CDs to fans that were never going to say no their face.

The Ginger Man’s seemingly makeshift stage was located in a lovely backyard patio complete with sturdy picnic tables. It made for an extraordinarily intimate locale to see Hitchcock. Alone with an acoustic guitar, Hitchcock opened with a cover of Spirit’s Nature’s Way before bringing on backing musicians and guests that included Stringfellow and Kelly Hogan. Over his 90 minute set, you could hear the influence of The Beatles on Hitchcock and Hitchcock’s influence on bands like The Decemberists. With great wit and Liverpudlian voice, Hitchcock sang about rocketships, tarantulas and frogs, discoursed extensively on the plot of Clint Eastwood’s Magnum Force and covered Dylan’s Tangled Up In Blue. After the presentation of cake, Hitchcock and his band plugged in for electric versions of The Beatles’ I’ve Got A Feeling, Don’t Bring Me Down and One After 909.

At Jeff Greenblatt’s suggestion, we are meeting up at The Parish for The Ripe. Given the soft melodies, ambient bridges and half-hearted guitar noodling, I’m questioning Greenblatt’s musical acumen. Before things are said that can’t be unsaid, I realize I’m at the wrong Parish and The Ripe are downstairs at the Parish Underground. Rushing to the Underground, The Ripe are just commencing a cover of Love’s A House Is Not A Motel. Much better and my faith in Greenblatt is restored. The rest of The Ripe’s set consisted of a fun batch of rockers in the Tom Petty mold.

[The Ripe Photo by Jeff Greenblatt]

Over at Red 7, Parquet Courts play to a crowd experiencing infinitely less oppressive conditions than their previous night’s set at Mohawk. Can’t say that the conditions and circumstances in which one listens to music doesn’t affect how it’s received. With room to breathe, both literally and figuratively, the Courts set is infinitely more enjoyable and it’s clear why they, along with Savages, are earning raves from everyone who sees them. Not afraid to stretch a song out and see where it goes, Parquet Courts are like their New York grandfathers, Television. (Reference accredited to Jeff Greenblatt). However, where Tom Verlaine would remain detached and cool, the Courts’ Andrew Savage shouts and chants the lyrics, giving them a wilder and edgier feel.

At Buffalo Billiards, Moon Taxi follows The Ocean Blue in a room as notable for its size as for the fact that it sits above a gigantic pool hall. Given the somewhat collegial and familial vibe, it’s slightly comical to think the psych-rock disciples The Black Angels played here earlier in the week. One of the many bands here this week from Nashville, Moon Taxi come the closest to jamming (known at SXSW as the verboten J-word) and offer up an enjoyable 40 minutes of simpatico rock and roll. A double bill with Howlin Rain would be a fine pairing.

[Moon Taxi Photo by @michaelrox]

At Stubb’s, Vampire Weekend played one of the de facto closing sets. In some years, a band with two critically well-received albums and Vampire Weekend’s level of widespread notoriety might be considered the most mainstream post-midnight option. With Justin Timberlake (45 minute set) and Prince (3 hours with 6 to 8 encores) playing competing sets, VW fell right back into the role of the indie-band that could. With the outdoor ampitheater filled to capacity, Vampire Weekend played an hour-plus long set that touched on the best parts of their self-titled debut and Contra, its follow up.

For a band that has a new album on the horizon, it was surprising that they didn’t gear their set towards a significant preview of their new material – a staple of many SXSW performances and the reason that many bands even make the trek. The two new songs in the set, one a funky little urban number, make it seem like the band is trying to broaden their scope beyond calypso-ey indie rock without forgoing the style that’s worked so well for them in the past. Those that continue to persist in the mistaken belief that the Ivy Leaguers are still poseurs in the big bad world of rock will surely have more grist for their mill if the sampling of new material is indicative of the rest of the album.

With time to catch one more band before the clock strikes twelve (or in reality 2:00 a.m.) on SXSW 2013, a sprint to Holy Mountain for The Warlocks is gloriously interrupted by the sound of funk coming from Empire Automotive. Far from your typical run-of-the-mill funk, this is P-FUNK. On a makeshift stage in an auto garage, George Clinton is leading the current iteration of Parliament-Funkadelic and because there aint no party like a P-Funk party, the P-Funk party won’t stop. Playing unrelentless funk well past curfew, the Clinton/ P-Funk set exemplifies what makes SXSW so great: walk one block in any direction and you are likely to stumble onto something great.

[P-Funk Photo by @rockpeacenlove]

At the airport on Sunday morning, a TSA agent examines my driver’s license and gives me the OK to pass. When I comment that he’s the first person in a week to look at my ID without stamping my hand, he laughs and tells me I wouldn’t like their version of that very much.

Doing a little statistical analysis, over the course of five full days, I managed to catch 76 sets by 74 different artists. There are many worse ways to spend a week.

On the agenda for SXSW 2014, the inaugural Hidden Track showcase. Let’s make this dream a reality!

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