Blurt blogger and shutterbug Scott Dudelson is roaming the highways and clubways of Austin this week and he's got the photos to prove it. Check out his report from Wednesday, March 17, Thursday, March 18 and Friday, March 19, as well as his regular photo blog.

By Scott Dudelson

Saturday, March 20

(above) She & Him @ Rachael Ray Party

(below) Rachael Ray herself!

Andrew WK @ Rachael Ray Party

Chapin Sisters @ Rachael Ray Party

Dr. Dog @ Rachael Ray Party

Tom Morello/Street Sweeper Social Club @ Rachael Ray Party

Boots Riley/Street Sweeper Social Club @ Rachael Ray Party

Priestess @ Harley Davidson Party

The New Harley @ Harley Davidson Party

Big Light @ Galaxy Back Yard Tent

The Like @ Stubbs

Exene Cervenka @ Bloodshot Showcase

***

Scott Dudelson is a music journalist and concert photographer based in Los Angeles.  Scott is also the Chief Operating Officer of Prodege, LLC, the company behind www.swagbucks.com.

Traipsin' the light fantastic in Austin without spilling a single beer!

By Johnny Mnemonic

Ed. Note: With this entry, BLURT blogger Johnny Mnemonic, who pens the "Music Journalism 101" blog for us, concludes his Austin report - all the way from England, where he's been on a freelance assignment. Not that a minor detail like being thousands of miles removed from the scene of the crime stopped him, so as we pointed out at the beginning, here's SXSW 2010- as he imagines it might be going down. Guarantee: all dialogue not reported verbatim.

Read also: Day 1 (Tuesday)

Day 2 (Wednesday)

Day 3 (Thursday)

Day 4 (Friday)

***

Day 5: Saturday, March 20

Did you ever wonder why SXSW blogs and daily recaps are always peppy and perky and full of details and fun anecdotes for the first few days, and then as the week starts to wind down those reports steadily become truncated and as frayed around the edges as the bloggers and writers no doubt are themselves torn ‘n' frayed from four or more days of little sleep, lots of alcohol, and pretty much nonstop sensory overload?  For those of you reading this who have never attended SXSW, it's akin to going to a carnival and getting on the rollercoaster, followed by doing the bumper cars, and that followed by a race through a dimly-lit funhouse/hall of mirrors, while the whole time carnival music blares nonstop at maximum volume - then doing it all over again. And again. And again. With barely a few hours of rest before one of the carny workers takes your ticket and pushes you right back onto the ride.

It's fun, but like that old saying about hitting your head against the wall - it sure feels good when it stops, too. As I type it's Sunday afternoon and I'm sitting in the virtual terminal of the virtual Dallas airport, the same place where on Tuesday I got stuck for several virtual hours and entertained myself virtually by playing the "spot the traveling musician" game. This time around, though, all those black-clad dudes and cute chicks in cowgirl boots look decidedly worse for the wear, and even that fat bald English band manager who couldn't stop yapping five days ago seems relieved to just flop down in a chair and read a newspaper. I'm with him on that, but first, my virtual report - truncated, yes, but in an alternate dimension somewhere, absolutely true - on the final day of the 2010 SXSW. See you next year!

***

Way too early on a Saturday morning, but for some reason I feel great! Okay, I'm dog tired, but my head is buzzing like a meadow in spring. Hmm... looks like my roomie Artie scored last night; over on the dresser beside his bed are two, not one, SXSW laminates. All you need is love, so that's sweet! Quick shower and I'm off. Over on 6^th Street there isn't a whole lot of activity, but I do spot a massive line of people down near Red River, and as the demographic appears to be (a) young, in the 18-and-under sense, and (b) dressed painfully hipster-centric, in a kind of Nickelodeon-meets-Hot-Topic way, it's pretty obvious something is happening down at Emo's this morning. Or more likely, around noon or so; only in Austin at SXSW will 3,000 kids queue up at 8:00 in the morning for in hopes of gaining admittance to a roughly 550-capacity venue that doesn't even open for another four hours.

What a bunch of sheep, I think to myself, as I go grab a quick cup of coffee. I have to hurry so I can bolt over to Stubb's (cap: 1,800) and queue up with 3,000 adults in hopes of gaining admittance to the annual Rachael Ray Feedback Party. This is one event that, having attended it previously, I was smart enough to RSVP for. The event started three years ago basically as a way for the celebrity cooking diva to pimp her husband's (John Cusimano) rock band, The Cringe, at SXSW without having to pay some label or organization to let them piggyback onto their party. Well, the bandname tells you what you need to know. In any event, only a schmuck wouldn't jump at the chance to play a bill that's guaranteed to draw a bazillion SXSW attendees, most of them lured as much for the free, Ray-approved eats as for the music. On the menu this year: Tex-Mex Sliders, Pulled Pork Tortitas, Quesadilla Suiza Stacks, Queso Fundido Taquitos and Albondigas Subs. Funny, Rachel, you don't look Mexican!

So anyway, this is the biggest RRFP ever, and Stubbs is the only logical place to hold it considering that last year the wait to get in was upwards of two hours. Truth be told, the band lineup has never been better: She & Him (Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward), Jakob Dylan & Three Legs featuring Neko Case and Kelly Hogan, Street Sweeper Social Club, Andrew W.K., Dr. Dog, School of Seven Bells, Justin Townes Earle, Bob Schneider, Local Natives, J. Roddy Walston & the Business, Pearly Gate Music, Steve Conte & the Crazy Truth, Freelance Whales, Lawrence Arabia, the Orion Experience, Mishka and Shayna Zaid & the Catch. Oh, and The Cringe!

In fact, it's while The Cringe are onstage that I spot Ray over next to one tables near the right hand side of the stage, watching the band. I wander casually over towards her but she appears to be totally transfixed by the performance, that trademark Joker-like grin of hers frozen across her face (although it's entirely possible that she's simply afraid her hubby will glance over and catch her not being, like, less than enthralled). I get a perverse urge, then act upon it: I slip the last of the ‘shrooms left over from the previous evening into her Albondiga. Call me a rebel, call me a criminal, or just call me Owsley, but tell the truth: haven't you fantasized at some point about having the chance to dose Rachael Ray?

A couple of hours and several plates of Tex-Mex Sliders, Pulled Pork Tortitas, Quesadilla Suiza Stacks, Queso Fundido Taquitos and Albondigas Subs later, I stagger through the Stubb's exit gate and realize I need to go find a place to take a nap. I'm stuffed.

As a result, I miss all the panels I wanted to take in, but through my powers of retroactive prescience, I have divined what I missed:

• "Effecting Social Change via Music and Technology": ain't gonna happen; rock fans are even more apathetic in 2010 than they were in 1969.
• "Ethics in the Music Business": don't exist; just ask that guy who keeps flooding your in-box with his latest half-ass strategy to "bring bands and fans together via an exciting new and dynamically symbiotic social networking platform".
• "How a Timeless Artist Remains Vital": marketing- and dollar-wise, that's a no brainer: die.
• "Too Much Information! Does Interacting Kill Rockstar Mystique?": yes.
• "Artists: Getting a Digital Ass-Kicking?": yes.
• "Can China Build a Better Music Business?": no.

Now that I've got all that out of the way, I can go drink some beer.

On the way I run into Artie and his new girlfriend. "Dude, we were looking for you at Rachael Ray's party!" he says. "Did you hear what she did? She jumped onstage during the Street Sweeper Social Club's set, grabbed the mic from Boots Riley, hollered, "Fuck no, I won't do what you tell me!", then dropped to her knees in front of Tom Morello and mimed doing the David Bowie-Mick Ronson thing! It was awesome!"

Shit, I miss all the best stuff at SXSW. Anyway, I laugh with them, then before we go our separate ways. I can't resist telling the girl, who as you may recall works for a certain high powered NYC public relations firm, "Since you two are an item now, I guess Artie can't write about your clients anymore." To which she replies, coyly, "Well, then I'll have to get you to do it, won't I, Johnny?" I chuckle, then shoot back, "Dunno ‘bout that. Last time I profiled someone on your roster you tore me a new one for printing the city your client lived in - that stalker shit you were so paranoid about, even though, as I pointed out, she had already posted the name of the town on her MySpace page." The girl blushes, so because I'm really a sweetheart I add, "But don't worry. I covered for you." Ah, the journalist-publicist relationships can get so complicated. Sometimes the only solution is to sleep with one another.

Anyway, off for a couple of beers.

Several hours later: Holy shit. I. Cannot. Believe. This. Is. Happening.

Each year at SXSW there's The Big Rumor that circulates, typically regarding this or that artist who may make a surprise appearance. A few years ago it was gonna be Dinosaur Jr, who at the time had not done the full reunion tour, and even up-to-the-last-minute texts were flying about the band "set to go on in a half hour" at such-and-such a place. (I got sucked into that one and rushed over. Turns out it was just Witch.) Last year the word on the street was that Neil Young would turn up for a stealth concert; it made sense, because there was also a special panel devoted to Neil and his forthcoming Archives box. But no dice.

This year I've been hearing that Husker Du is going to do a one-off reunion gig. Despite the acrimony that supposedly lingers between the three members, from a logistical standpoint, it's plausible: Grant Hart is in town for several shows, including the Second Motion/Blurt Magazine showcase that's happening tonight, and just last week Bob Mould did a three-night residency at the Rusty Spurs club here in Austin (he apparently knows the owner from their college days). I'm not sure where erstwhile Husker bassist Greg Norton fits in, particularly given some of the comments Hart made about Norton in a recent Blurt interview, and his and Mould's generally dismissive attitude towards Norton and his musical talents. But still - anything can happen, and SXSW has become more and more often a kickoff party  for new musical projects, particularly those where a lot of dough stands to be made and therefore the glare of an industry confab like SXSW makes for beautiful marketing symmetry.

Tonight, that anything that can happen does happen. I'm sure a lot of people reading this will think I was hallucinating, but that all happened to me last night at Acid Mothers Temple. I've only had two beers tonight, I swear. The Second Motion/Blurt showcase at the Taproom At Six has drawn a fantastic turnout, and we've already had stellar sets from Ireland up-and-comers The Walls, UK singer-songwriter Gemma Ray, Marty Willson-Piper from the Church, pop legend Tommy Keene, the aforementioned Grant Hart, and Adam Franklin (of Swervedriver) with his latest band Bolts Of Melody. We've also already passed the 1a.m. mark and Franklin's just come back onstage for what we presume will be the last encore when he glances over at the wings and casually announces, "I'd like to bring a couple of new friends of mine out here..."

It's Grant Hart and, you guessed it, Bob Fucking Mould.

Hart settles in at the drumkit, while Mould plugs in. Smiles all around onstage, while in the audience you can hear the collective thump of jaws hitting the floor. Franklin nods at his newly-enhanced band, then turns to Mould and makes a classic "we're not worthy!" bowing motion; Mould cracks up, cocks his head and points at Franklin like "You da man!" And before anyone in the room can react, they've launched into "8 Miles High," in all its post-Byrdsian, proto-Huskerian thunder.

A four-song H.D. mini-set then ensues: Mould's "New Day Rising" is followed with barely a pause by Hart's "The Girl Who Lives on Heaven Hill" (both from the H.D.  early classic New Day Rising), then another Hart song, "Don't Want to Know if You Are Lonely" (from 1986's Candy Apple Grey), and finally a marathon, 12-minute version of Mould's "Could You Be the One" (from the band's 1987 studio swansong Warehouse: Songs and Stories). The crowd is pretty much going berserk, and the musicians are exchanging glances like, is this really happening?

Apparently the four Husker songs, plus the Byrds tune, was all they'd had a chance to prepare, so for one final encore, circa 2:30 in the morning, following a brief onstage huddle, Mould launches into the signature "Back In Black" riff. Franklin beckons to some of the musicians at the back of the stage who've been taking all this in, and in the blink of an eye Gemma Ray, a couple of the Walls, Tommy Keene and Marty Willson-Piper are all clustered around the extra mic stand, swapping off on AC/DC lyrics. Someone in the crowd catches Mould's eye and he gestures the guy up - holy crap, it's Greg Norton! Franklin's bassist hands Norton the axe and...

Wait a minute; it's not Norton. It's actually Franz Nicolay, late of the Hold Steady, who's been in Austin promoting about 15 different musical and literary projects he's currently involved with. I'm not sure if anyone knew Nicolay could play the bass, but he most certainly can, with aplomb. At one point all the musicians except Nicolay and Mould pull back, leaving Nicolay, Mould and Hart in a semi-circle, jamming away, and I swear if you squint, it looks exactly like Husker Du. Later, when I get back to the hotel, I will go online to see what the bloggers are saying and what the Twitterers were tweeting (not to mention Lords a-leaping, ha-ha) and sure enough, a slew of them are claiming it was the actual full Husker Du at the show, so I'm just correcting any erroneous reports here.

Things turn chaotic at this point. Willson-Piper shouts out he'd like to bring up a few friends, and all his bandmates from the Church hop onstage. Then Tommy Keene pulls not one but two rabbits out of his hat by bringing on a couple of guys he's played with in the past, Paul Westerberg and Bob Pollard. Not to be outdone, since it's technically his showcase and all that, Franklin brings on everyone from Swervedriver and subtly steers the AC/DC song into a primal version of "Son of Mustang Ford." Sheer pandemonium. It looks like one of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremonies end-of-evening all-star jams - a notion that's indelibly reinforced when fuckin' Paul Shaffer jumps up there too! Where the hell did HE come from!?! Such a ham, and... whoops, it's Moby, in town to help promote his dynamic new social networking platform that will bring bands and fans together. Still, it's quite a sight.

Suddenly Rachael Ray is running on from the wings, grabbing Mould's mic and gibbering something about "why are you folks partying when John Sinclair is rotting in a prison for just two joints!", but Mould quickly boots her off the stage with one deft swing of his Flying V. Things finally come to a conclusion about 4a.m. and the club owner assures everyone that this is without at doubt the longest SXSW showcase Austin has ever seen. Who am I to complain!

I spot Ray curled up in a fetal position behind the merch table at the rear of the club and I want to go console her, but an overwhelming sense of guilt washes over me so I just ease out the door, into the Texas night, in search of a chili hot dog prior to hitting the sack.

Another successful SXSW has come and gone. Let's get on that ride and do it all over again! How was yours?

***

Johnny Mnemonic is the pseudonym of a "highly-regarded" national writer with, he advises us, over two decades' experience working as a music critic, reporter, editor and marketing consultant. We've never met him face-to-face, and he further advises he will be delivering his blogs to us via the "double blind drop-box method," whatever that is, to ensure his anonymity.

A Blurt editor arrives in Austin wielding a camera and all hell breaks loose as we get in your face once again...

By Randy Harward

(above) Michael Monroe and Cheetah Chrome

(below) Monroe again!

Street Sweeper Social Club

 Billy Bragg, Boots Riley, Tom Morello, Wayne Kramer

Broken Social Scene

Chylde

John Hiatt

Hollerado

Marty Willson-Piper

Walter Salas-Humara (Silos) & Blurt CEO Stephen Judge

Metric

Motorhead

Nodozurdo

Roadsaw

Suckers

The 88s

Those Darlins

Tommy Keene

Whitey Morgan & the 78s

So - what the are YOU gonna be doing on Saturday, April 17? Summary executions for all who patronize Best Buy, Target and Wal-Mart that day.

By Blurt Staff

A missive from the good folks behind Record Store Day. Guarantee: all dialogue reported verbatim. This has been a public service announcement - with vinyl!

As 2009, the Year of the Ox, aka the Year We All Want Wiped From Our Memories finally came to a close ushering in the Year of the Tiger, many businesses across the board were left nearly decimated. The unemployment rate had soared to a staggering 10% (on record), underemployment was at 17%, while property foreclosures remain at an all time high, all this while incomes became increasingly less proportionate to the cost of health care, real estate and general cost of living.

The music biz, already beat up from the preceding years of abuse precipitated largely (and arguably), from the industry's quick-to-condemn/slow-to-adapt reaction to the digital age, was not immune. Whereas the great big chains, (Virgin, Tower Records, et al), had pretty much reached their demise before the great big freefall, indie music retailers worldwide, reliant on passionate niche clientele, were also really starting to feel the burn as disposable incomes became, well, less disposable.

Enter Record Store Day, a now global event set this year for Saturday, April 17th-a single day in celebration of the unique culture surrounding over 1,400 independently owned record stores worldwide-- one day that all of the independently owned record stores come together with artists to celebrate the art of music.

Notable/platinum-selling artists have rallied for the cause by issuing everything from quotable shots in the arm to doing in-store appearances and performances to releasing exclusive/special product for indie retailers.

For example, this year, Billy Corgan's label, Rocket Science Ventures will be doing an early release of a new EP by The Smashing Pumpkins along with a performance to fans hosted by Amoeba Records and Urban Outfitters in Los Angeles on Record Store Day. Corgan says, "I used to work at an indie record shop so I'll always have a soft spot for the places where I still go to find the most vital music, whether new or still hidden."

Among other notable luminaries who have participated in Record Store Day in some significant way, shape or form, include Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan, Metallica, Radiohead, Eminem, Lil' Wayne, Jay Z, Bruce Springsteen, Wilco, Queens Of The Stone Age and Kanye West.

Last year's Record Store Day can take credit for an extraordinary spike in traffic to the stores on that specific day, largely due to the limited availability of more than a handful of exclusive releases. When RSD launched in 2008 there were approximately $10,000 products made and sold on the day. By 2009, this increased to over $250,000. According to Soundscan, overall indie retail sales on Record Store Day 2009 grew 21% from the prior year, and organizers expect this to be closer to $500,000 this year. Record Store Day is now the biggest retail sales day of many indie stores, surpassing Christmas.

Vinyl sales were remarkably high, with a growth spurt from RSD 2008 to 2009 by a whopping 225%. For example, 30% of all products sold at the Coachella Record Store Day store in 2009 were vinyl. In addition, DVD sales for the indie retail sector grew 13.8% on RSD from the prior year, as well.

However, getting folks into the record stores to buy product is just one part of the event's raison d'etre. As well, Record Store Day is about focus and support for a mere faction of an ailing industry, but one that can arguably be looked upon as its heart and soul. This, not only because the indie music stores, run by passionate music lovers, cater to the passionate record buyers, but also because, from a solely economic standpoint, the indie music stores are now responsible for 10% of all record sales in the United States, alone. In general, the percentage of sales that the indie retail community represents grew from about 7% in early 2009 to closer to 10% in early 2010, which indicates that the indie sector is now more focused and growing.

Perhaps the grandest example of that growth is the aforementioned Amoeba Records in California. Supporting 3 fantastically stocked and staffed stores (Los Angeles, San Francisco and Berkeley), Amoeba is one of the most trafficked outposts for independent music in the country.

On the other side of the world exists the longstanding, uber-influential, London-based retailer, Rough Trade Records. Not just a record store, but a viable "brand," Rough Trade also houses a record label and promotes shows around the city. Most notably, they recently opened another 5,000 square foot space in the East End complete with coffee shop, performance stage, exhibition space, and an internet center.

Indie retailer, Dimple has 6 thriving locations in the Sacramento area and in addition to music sales, regularly host in-store performances and contests.

The lasting success of Criminal Records in Atlanta, the city's largest and most popular indie music store, can be attributed to well, pure passion, engaging the local music community as much as possible. Store owner, Eric Levin adds, "We're heading towards our twentieth year better than ever. Sales are down somewhat, sure, this is America 2010, but we've never had more fun. We produce music, promote shows, throw parties, listen to music 24/7, read comics, play with toys and talk to pretty girls all day long."

Waterloo Records in Austin remains thee pilgrimage point for the throngs of music folk (over)attending the South by Southwest conference in March. Hosting regular in-store performances, Waterloo is one of the most successful music retailers in the country, with consistent yearly revenues above their profit margin.

Washington DC's CD Warehouse continues to thrive, benefited from a great location on M Street, where the foot traffic is especially heavy. The store also attributes their good clientele to fair pricing, a knowledgeable staff and an extensive stock of imported product.

Other noteworthy retailers include Boise, Idaho's Record Exchange, Seattle's Easy Street Records, New York City's J&R Music World, who, at last year's event, played host to a ceremony including Mayor Michael Bloomberg's Official Declaration of Record Store Day. There's also Denver's awesome, Twist & Shout, Rockaway Records in Los Angeles, Rasputin Music in the Bay Area, Boston's Newbury Comics and Minneapolis' Electric Fetus (the store who's shirt Ringo Starr sported at the Grammys).

The cold hard fact is that the past year did still see the closing of dozens of independent music stores, some of which had been in business for decades. Certain markets were more profoundly affected by the fiscal collapse than others and can cite factors such as location and state or city economics as culprits. That said, the ingenuity and staying power of the independent music retailer stands as a front-line barometer for the rest of industry- generally, those who stay in it are those labels, independent contractors, managers, booking agents and artists whose passion gives birth to the smartest, most innovative and adaptable and inclusive ideas.

A worthy example of this is Junketboy Distribution. Formed in 2002, Junketboy was launched to give indie record retailers a competitive edge within the retail music industry.

By providing indie retailers with special releases, including exclusives, rarities, tour items, live releases, merchandise, toys, books, etc., Junketboy gives the true music fan the opportunity to find quality,  collectible, hard-to-find pieces and to support their local, independent retail community.

Owned and operated by the Coalition of Independent Music Stores, Junketboy sells directly to over 400 customers, including direct indie store accounts, one-stops and importer/exporters and has over 2,000 titles in its catalog ranging from partnerships with Pearl Jam and The Black Keys/Damon Dash hip-hop project Blakroc, to special releases from John Mayer, Kings of  Leon, Phish, Beck, My Morning Jacket, Beastie Boys to hundreds of independent and developing artist releases.

Michael Bunnell, Executive Director of Junketboy Distribution and the Coalition of Independent Music Stores (CIMS), states, "Junketboy was created to service and partner with independent record  stores across the country. We are proud to continue our support of indie record store culture as a founding and active member of Record Store Day. By helping indie stores survive in today's ever-changing music retail world by providing quality special releases, Junketboy Distribution hopes to make every day Record Store Day."

Out with the ox, in with the tiger...

Record Store Day is managed by the Music Monitor Network and is organized in partnership with the Alliance of Independents Music Stores (AIMS), the Coalition of Independent Music Stores (CIMS) and celebrates the culture of independent record stores by playing host to in-store events/performances, signings and special product releases on a global scale. It takes place on Saturday, April 17, 2010.

Record Store Day Sponsors:

Crosley Radio, EMI Distribution, Fontana Distribution, Gotta Groove, NARM, RED Distribution, Sony Music, Universal Music Distribution, Vivendi Entertainment, WEA Distribution, and Warner Bros. Records.

For more information on exclusive Record Store Day events, products and participants, visit http://www.recordstoreday.com

Offers version of "When My Baby's Beside Me" via his MySpace page.

By Fred Mills

Wow - cover songs don't get much better than this.

In the wake of Alex Chilton's sad, far-too-premature passing, the accolades and remembrances from the music community have been coming fast and furious - among them, musical tributes, such as the one by Jeffrey Dean Foster and Mitch Easter, a cover of "Ballad of El Goodo," that we posted to the Blurt site the other day.

Now comes a positively spot-on version of Big Star's "When My Baby's Beside Me" recorded by Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit and posted yesterday to Isbell's MySpace page. Seriously - it kicks ass, and any fan of Chilton and Big Star will not be disappointed. The band cut it last year during sessions for their self-titled album (reviewed here at Blurt). Thanks Jason - you went above and beyond.

***

In other Chilton/Big Star news, in Austin at SXSW there was some concern about the fate of the Big Star showcase tonight (Saturday) at Antone's. It's on, and is now being billed as "Big Star - A Tribute to Alex Chilton." Apparently the band's Jody Stephens, Ken Stringfellow and Jon Auer talked with Chilton's widow and decided that turning it into a tribute was in order, and they've lined up a slew of guests to perform including Chuck Prophet, X's John Doe, R.E.M.'s Mike Mills, indie-folk singer M. Ward, the dB's Chris Stamey, and Doug Garrison and René Coman (pals of Chilton who had played with him many times over the years).

Blurt blogger and shutterbug Scott Dudelson is roaming the highways and clubways of Austin this week and he's got the photos to prove it. Check out his report from Wednesday, March 17, and Thursday, March 18, as well as his regular photo blog.

By Scott Dudelson

Friday, March 19

(above) Emily Haines of Metric @ Stubbs

(below) Metric @ Stubbs

Mike Mills of R.E.M. @ Ghost Bar

Wayne Kramer @ Ghost Bar

Billy Bragg & Wayne Kramer @ Ghost Bar

Billy Bragg @ Don't Mess With Texas

Frightened Rabbit @ Don't Mess With Texas

Audible Mainframe @ Spin Party

Foxy Shazam @ Spin Party

Fucked Up @ Spin Party

Miike Snow @ Spin Party

Rogue Wave @ Spin Party

Wooden Birds @ Mohawk

Steel Train @ Encore

Citizen Cope @ SXSW Day Stage

Diane Birch @ SXSW Day Stage

Jakob Dylan & Neko Case @ SXSW Day Stage

Dead Confederate @ Little Radio Party

***

Scott Dudelson is a music journalist and concert photographer based in Los Angeles.  Scott is also the Chief Operating Officer of Prodege, LLC, the company behind www.swagbucks.com.

Traipsin' the light fantastic in Austin without spilling a single beer!

By Johnny Mnemonic

Ed. Note: With South By Southwest 2010 in full swing, we decided to send BLURT blogger Johnny Mnemonic, who pens the "Music Journalism 101" blog for us, to Austin and report back with his daily misadventures, er, observations. Only hitch was, he neglected to inform us that he's currently in England and won't be back in the States until the summer. "No problemo," he assured us. "I've attended SXSW numerous times since its inception in 1987. At this stage, I think I can wing it." We hereby present the erudite Mr. Mnemonic's long-distance account of this year's SXSW - as he imagines it might be going down. Guarantee: all dialogue not reported verbatim.

Read also: Day 1 (Tuesday)

Day 2 (Wednesday)

Day 3 (Thursday)

***

Day 4: Friday, March 19

Wow. Courtney Love remembers me.

Given La Love's track record, it's saying a lot if she remembers what she did last week, much less an encounter with a journalist over two decades ago. But she remembered this one - I'm getting off the elevator in the lobby of the Hilton and she's about to get on with a couple of skeez-looking friends. She notices me staring at her she suddenly gets a startled expression on her face, then a sly smile.

"Johnny, I lost my dress!" she blurts, in that signature raspy voice of hers. I'm speechless for a moment, then both of us crack up. See, back around 1990, I was assigned to write a profile about Hole for Option magazine, and a late lunch with the band in L.A. turned into an afternoon shopping spree at a bunch of vintage clothing shops over in Silverlake. Courtney insisted I come along, and I wound up being assigned the position of temporary personal assistant, following her up and down the aisles and holding onto the dresses and blouses she was yanking off the racks. One of the dresses I suggested to her, in fact, a greenish-blue flowered number with a scooped neck and a hemline just above the knees, caught her fancy and would later turn up on none other than Mr. Courtney Love, aka Kurt Cobain (whoops! Rickroll alert!),  in a Nirvana photo shoot.

Now she's telling me how the dress in question disappeared some time after Kurt's death during one of her many stints in rehab; seems there have been a lot of personal assistants over the years, some more temporary than others, and some of them a bit on the light-fingered side. "Someone told me they heard it was on eBay at one point," she tells me, shrugging. "You look good, Courtney," I tell her. "How is SXSW treating you?" Turns out she's getting ready to go get fixed up for the big Spin magazine party this afternoon over at Stubb's where Hole will be unveiling songs from the new Hole album Nobody's Daughter. "You wanna come see us play? My band kicks ass!" Courtney is positively beaming; she seems to be totally sober and in a really good space, so I make a mental note not to mention the fact that I've spent most of my SXSW thus far in a chemical- and alcohol-induced haze.

I swap cell numbers with the skeez on the left, who turns out to be, you guessed it, one of Courtney's personal assistants, and she promises to come escort me in at the Spin party when I show up, as it's one of those special invitation/laminate-only events that seem to be slowly taking over SXSW, and since the big national magazine I used to write for went out of business, I don't have the same juice I used to have where it comes to guests lists and music industry parties. (A lot of people have been complaining about the proliferation of RSVP and invite events at SXSW, whereby you now have a situation that often renders your official SXSW badge irrelevant; I mean, what's the point of buying the goddam thing if the shows you want to see have exclusive guestlists you have to get on? But I digress...)

Today there are so many day parties happening that I'm flummoxed as to where to start. I'm definitely going by the annual Bloodshot party out at Yard Dog Gallery on South Congress - I should have invited Courtney to come with me and I could show her some of the vintage and antique shops out that way - not to mention the 40 Watt/JamBase bash at the Side Bar on 7^th Street, which will double as a kind of tribute to recently departed artists Vic Chesnutt, Jerry Fuchs and Jon Guthrie. Before all that, though, I need to get some breakfast and then check out some more panels at the Convention Center like I did yesterday - they were pretty lively!

Only problem is, today's panels look like they were designed for a bunch of eggheads and shut-ins, and as tutorials for musicians who are so clueless they have no business getting into a line of work like this. They boast titles like "A Guide to Recording Music Online," "Shoot Your Concert DVD for Free," "Green Touring: Stupid, Dumb, or Best Idea Ever?" and "The Cloud vs. the Paradise of Infinite Storage." WTF?!? Who comes up with these dumbass names?

The one glimmer of hope is the official SXSW Interview with Cheap Trick, featuring the entire band plus nationally-known pop critics Greg Kot and Jim DeRogatis. Indeed, this turns out to be a lot of fun, with a lot of interesting tangents and surprises, such as when Rick Nielsen pulls out his latest custom-designed guitar (it's shaped to look like DeRo, with Jim's face for the headstock), and when Kot leans over and removes the cigarette from Bun E. Carlos' lips (Carlos looks shocked for a moment, his look suggesting no one has ever done that before, until Robin Zander whispers something in his ear, presumably informing him that there's no smoking in the Convention Center, and hands him a pack of Nicorette).

The subsequent Q&A session is less enlightening, although one priceless moment occurs when a helium-voiced fanboy rambles on and on with what's apparently a five-part question involving whether or not the re-recorded In Color that the band cut with Steve Albini will ever be released, Nielsen winks at the crowd and casually says, "Could you repeat the question?" Before the fidgeting, red-faced kid has an epileptic fit from the embarrassment, however, Nielsen rescues him by quipping, "Albini stole the master tapes because we never paid him, then he threw them in Lake Michigan, so we've been negotiating with a tape collector who apparently got ahold of a copy." All throughout the auditorium you see people tapping away furiously on their smartphones and netbooks, no doubt trying to be the first on their block to post this fascinating info (fake, as many Cheap Trick fans reading this probably already realize) to their blogs and newsgroups. I'll have to check those blogs and newsgroups in the morning to see who was duped. Meanwhile, the band appears to be getting a lot of traction in Austin...

Leaving the Convention Center, I start doing the zig-zag thing for the day parties, down to South Congress, out to the west side, back in to the main drag, then finally over to Red River for the Spin party at Stubb's where I rendezvous with my roommate Artie. Artie made the wise decision to avoid hanging out with me yesterday, because for the past 6 months he's been "grooming" (his term) this cute young female publicist - is there any other kind? - who works for a prominent NYC p.r. agency, and now that SXSW has arrived it's time for the big payoff, and in the past he has found that being associated too heavily with me can sometimes have a deal-breaking effect, trim-wise. I'm not sure why, although I am told that I have an "unfiltered" personality, go figure. The smile on Artie's face tells me that his efforts, which included penning rave reviews for pretty much every client of the gal's p.r. firm over the course of the past six months, were not in vain. If you've ever wondered why some male journalists always seem to favor certain acts, this is one of the reasons:

Anyway, he's holding me a spot in line outside Stubbs and it is stretching halfway up Red River almost to 10^th Street. There must be a thousand people here! I tell Artie about running into Courtney earlier, then give the personal assistant a ring - pretty soon we are standing in the backstage area of the venue, watching members of various bands mill around while Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings are finishing up a blistering set that has the Spin crowd going nuts.

Meanwhile, Courtney spots me from the dressing room door and waves me over. "You wanna do something really fuckin' cool?" she whispers. After she explains what she has in mind, it's pretty obvious I'd be nuts not to go through with it event though I'll look like a total idiot. The personal assistant takes me over to another dressing room and we get started.

Time for Hole. The band swaggers on first, then Courtney comes out in true diva fashion, lights a cigarette, props one foot up on the monitor, and glances over her shoulder at me. I am standing behind a big set of bongos (on loan from the Dap-Kings) and dressed like some kind of African witchdoctor. She smiles, counts the band off, and then we're off - Hole is doing the Stones' "Sympathy For the Devil," and I'm onstage playing it with them. Holy shit. This is just like the Stones at Hyde Park in '69. Courtney is a genius. I will have to check the blogs and newsgroups tomorrow to find out how I did.

So now you know - that was me up there. If anyone has a video of the song, please post it to YouTube and let me know.

After that I get off so I can watch the rest of the set from the wings with Artie. Standing there in my witchdoctor getup, I feel a tad self-conscious, at least until I see the lead singer for glam band Foxy Shazam walk by, decked out in tight leather and looking like he just came from an oil-wrestling contest. That makes me feel better. Meanwhile, Courtney is at the mic going into a little Bret Michaels riff, cracking her bandmates up. Artie and I hold our lighted cellphones up in the air and mouth the lyrics to Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorn." Seriously, it doesn't get much better than this at a rock show.

Following Hole's set, Courtney invites me and Artie to a party in north Austin, but we respectfully decline. We are, after all, professional journalists, and we are here to report on SXSW, not go get all wasted at some party. To tell you the truth, though, the rest of the night kinda goes past in a blur, and something I have experienced year after year of attending SXS is something other people have told me they've experienced too, which is hitting a wall of sorts after about three days of this. To an extent, adrenaline kicks in, but jolt after jolt of adrenaline tends to wear you down over time too.

One thing's for sure, however: I am winding up at Club 1808 up on 12^th Street, as there is some serious psychedelic shit going to happen, and as Courtney's personal assistant handed me a small bag of ‘shrooms as a thanks for helping the band out onstage, well... you can see where this is all leading.

I float into the club around the time Rusted Shut is finishing up, and then right at midnight, Austin's premiere sonic alchemists ST 37 take the stage amid a discombobulating stew of feedback and liquid light show. They are followed by Japan's Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso UFO, which is to say, the entire venue achieves lift-off somewhere around 1:30 a.m.

Wandering back towards the hotel an unspecified amount of time later, I purchase a neon purple hotdog with bright orange chili from an awesome-looking street vendor at the corner of 6^th and Neches. It is the best hotdog I have ever eaten in my life.

To be continued.

***

Johnny Mnemonic is the pseudonym of a "highly-regarded" national writer with, he advises us, over two decades' experience working as a music critic, reporter, editor and marketing consultant. We've never met him face-to-face, and he further advises he will be delivering his blogs to us via the "double blind drop-box method," whatever that is, to ensure his anonymity.

Massively influential journalist and author operated on the frontlines of the music industry.

By Fred Mills

Charlie Gillett, British journalist, archivist, artist manager, label operator and author of seminal rock tome The Sound of the City: The Rise of Rock and Roll, passed away Wednesday, March 17, from a series of health complications. (He apparently had been diagnosed with Churg-Strauss syndrome a few years ago.) Gillett was 68; he is survived by his wife Buffy plus children Suzy, Jody and Ivan.

Commenting on Gillett's passing, noted UK music critic Barney Hoskyns noted, "Charlie's contributions to music are too numerous to be listed here. Briefly, he was the author of TSOTC (1970); he was the host of the wonderful "Honky Tonk" show on Radio London; he co-managed Ian Dury's Kilburn & the High Roads; and founded Oval Records, enjoying a No. 1 hit with Paul Hardcastle's '19'; and he played a massive role in introducing world music to the UK, on both radio and record."

During the ‘70s both English and American music fans were aware of Gillett's sparkling writing style, as he contributed regularly to both the NME over there and Rolling Stone on these shores. His influence spread even further when, as the host of the "Honky Tonk" show on Radio London, he helped break the likes of Dire Straits, Graham Parker and Elvis Costello.  He remained active in various capacities throughout the decades, most recently broadcasting his "Charlie Gillett's World of Music" on the BBC. A good overview of Gillett's backstory can be viewed at his Wikipedia page.

On a personal note: by 1970-72 I was a music-obsessed teenager steadily moving away from the AM radio mainstream but, as I was living in a small Southern textile town at the time, with limited avenues for discovering musical alternatives. Copies of Rolling Stone, Crawdaddy, Phonograph Record Magazine and even the very occasional Melody Maker and NME would find their way in to my hands like gifts from heaven. Among the greatest gift, however, was a battered copy of The Sound Of The City, which an older hippie friend bequeathed to me with the kind of conspiratorial wink generally reserved for drug transactions: "This will open your eyes, brother," he said.

And indeed it did - my ears, too, as I made it my mission to track down music by as many artists mentioned in the book as possible. Gillett brought to life a primal strand of rock ‘n' roll I'd only heard in passing or never even knew existed, and he helped set me down the road of discovery just as surely as any of the aforementioned music magazines all those years ago.

May he rest in peace.

Check out Charlie Gillett's personal website.

[Photo Credit: Philip Ryalls]

Look good, have fun, leave a little mystery: that, they most certainly did, as evidenced on the new archival set, due from KRS next week. Check out the video, below.

By Joe Warminsky

When Kill Rock Stars released Kleenex/LiLiPUT (The Complete Recordings) in 2001, the two-CD set truly was a gift: Until then, the Swiss band's music -- minimalist and womanly, odd but accessible -- was legendary to the Robert Christgaus and Greil Marcuses of the world, but it was virtually inaccessible to average record-shoppin' Americans. You either could hunt down the mega-rare late-'70s/early-'80s vinyl (good luck with that), or you could send $30 to an obscure mail-order label in Switzerland for an earlier version of the compilation CD. Anecdotal evidence suggests that most people waited for the Kill Rock Stars release.

A decade later, Kleenex/ LiLiPUT may be less of an enigma -- there are clips on YouTube, natch -- but the oft-changing, mostly female band is just as important: If it once was a riot-grrrl totem, it's now a valuable example of how to be, in the broadest sense, indie as hell. (They were big enough, however, that the tissue company pressured them to change their name in 1980.)  Live Recordings, TV-Clips & Roadmovie, a new self-explanatory DVD/CD combo from KRS, compiles two live shows, six great TV clips (three as Kleenex, three as LiLiPUT), and their 30-minute film, Roadmovie, which documents a 1982 European tour.

The CD's live shows, both remastered, are for die-hards and completists. The 1979 Kleenex show in Biel is scrappy and intimate, and the 1983 LiLiPUT show in Zurich confirms that the group had become an art-punk powerhouse by then. If the goal is a fresh look at things, however, then Roadmovie, is the real selling point here. There are no performances, and the Super 8 footage is typical band-on-the-run fare: rest stops, cigarette breaks, friendly dogs, highway signs, snacks, blurry headlights, tourist traps, people mugging for the camera, and so on. But it has an undeniable timelessness: The editing is snappy; the soundtrack is nothing but the band's songs; and everybody looks eternally cool, as if you could've dropped them comfortably into any watershed indie scene in the nearly 30 intervening years. It's slightly hypnotic.

And there's the lesson for any band with a van, an ever-present Flip camera and a documentary jones: Look good, have fun, leave a little mystery, and let your music do the talking.

Virtuoso bluegrass/roots/rock combo will make your head spin.

By Blurt Staff

Progressive twang-grass merchants Cornmeal, of Chicago, have a new live album, Live in Chicago, IL Vol. I, available, recorded live last year at Martyrs' in the Windy City, and this one is designed to pay tribute to the fans. Anyone who's ever seen the band in concert - the BLURT crew caught ‘em last December at the annual Warren Haynes Christmas pre-Jam Jam - knows what that means ‘cos this group positively smokes.

In the winter of 2000, a band stepped on stage for the first time and called themselves Cornmeal.  For the next six years, Cornmeal performed each and every Wednesday in Chicago to small yet loyal crowds.  Throughout the winters of 2007-2009, Cornmeal returned to Chicago to pay homage to that tradition.  This album is for the fans as a thank you for all the years of dedication, for believing in Cornmeal, and for creating a wonderful community for them to come home to. 

Unlike Cornmeal's three previous albums, Live in Chicago, IL Vol. I  captures the band in its raw, intense format, bouncing through song after song of fast paced, fierce originals and extensive improvised jams that showcase the immense talent and connectivity that have gained them so much fan appeal from coast to coast. Cornmeal is: Chris Gangi on upright bass, Dave Burlingame on Banjo, Allie Kral on fiddle, Kris Nowak on Acoustic Guitar, and John Paul Nowak on Drums. 

Heavily influenced by American roots and folk music, Cornmeal blends lightning fast tempos and impeccable harmonies into an unrivaled live performance that continues to expand upon the five-piece acoustic-electric groups' vast musical repertoire.  While steeped in the tradition of John Hartford and New Grass Revival, Cornmeal continues to forge their own path, pushing the boundaries of bluegrass, Americana and folk for a whole new generation of music lovers. With a rapidly growing fan base and ever-evolving sound, Cornmeal challenges the recipe of the bluegrass sound and live performance. 

In 2008, the band won its first Jammy award for New Groove of the Month.  The band has graced the stage at almost every major festival across the country including Bonaroo, Wakarusa, All Good, High Sierra, 10K Lakes, Del Fest, Summercamp, and Telluride Nightgrass just to name a few. They have also been fortunate enough to perform with many influential bands including Leftover Salmon, Sam Bush, John Hartford, Little Feat, The Del McCoury Band, Moe., and Dark Star Orchestra among others.

You can nab the album at Cornmeal shows or at www.cornmealinthekitchen.com and at all online outlets.