Blurt at SXSW: Day Two

Blurt checks out Devo, Roky Erickson with Okkervil River's Will Sheff, Laura Gibson, N.A.S.A., and Foreign Born.

By Randy Harward

First things first on a beautiful Austin a.m.: Breakfast tacos. Like BBQ and Lone Star, probably one of the most ubiquitous topics, but compelling nonetheless. Since the sainted Las Manitas is gone, we tried El Sol y La Luna near Emo's. Sublime. There was a fight out on the street in front of Emo's after, but we were slow getting outside, being so fat with migas con chorizo.

Walked around the music tradeshow long enough to get all the swag that was worth getting and then some. Let's hear it for the Hawaiian music marketing people--they had a very attractive woman handing out Hershey's kisses and nuts. A little backward, and marginally effective, but entertaining nonetheless.

After that, it was time for the Devo press conference and panel. In the little press suite at the Austin Convention Center, about 30-40 lucky hacks and photographers got to shoot and grill Devo about their not-reunion and upcoming new album, and have them elucidate (again) the concept of Devolution. One asshole photographer asked them about the hats. The hats. Moron. But Blurt's own Greg Walton got Mark Mothersbaugh to talk about how Drew Barrymore fired him from scoring the film Whip It. Mothersbaugh said that he kept bumping Devo from the studio to accomodate Barrymore, who kept canceling. When he finally had enough and said so, he says she told him they just didn't see eye to eye, "so I got fired."

The public Devo panel started with the video for the band's new song "Don't Shoot, I'm A Man." It's good--as if we expected anything else? Well, kinda. you never know what to expect from a reunion. Although Devo is one of the smartest and most innovative bands ever, well... there's always that chance. That the song is the same taut, eccentric dork-rock with salient messages (in this case, it's a "humanist plea") without looking shticky is a testament to Devo's contribution to rock n' roll then and now.

We then caught the ass end of the Roky Erickson Ice Cream Social, the last half of Erickson's set, where he was joined by Okkervil River's Will Sheff, who was clearly stoked to be onstage with Erickson again. After a leisurely meal of street pizza, we saw Laura Gibson at the Red Eyed Fly--she was beguiling--and then, for shits and gigs, N.A.S.A. That there is a puzzle: Why care about two DJs, no matter how good, when they're at the back of the stage being nerdy while they paint two bitches green and tell 'em to dance (freestyle, evidently) on the front of the stage? Jiggles aside, that's uninspired and irritating. Foreign Born capped the night for Blurt. Randy, anyway. While I was falling asleep, Fred Mills was shaking his ass to the Bar-Kays, which he said were like seeing a party on the level of those thrown by The Time or Prince (of course the B-Ks influenced those acts--we know). Damn it. 

 (Photos: Randy Harward)