"The knowledge of future clarity makes my voice tremble with greater dignity," crooned Jens Lekman, launching into an hour-long set last night highlighting the best in Swedish twee. It's more than a sound: preciousness is a lifestyle. Consider that every member of the band was wearing keys. As in, a single key, tied on a string and hung around the neck, as if the group's den-mother had ensured that they're all able to make their way home after a night of rocking. Adorable!
Lekman himself—who could be the older, slighter, more upbeat brother of Billy Corgan—puts on a rather unapologetic show for a sound that's so pat. His ensemble surely draws comparisons to the reigning lords of twee, Belle & Sebastian, but at the live show, those comparisons fall away. Lekman's band doesn't strive to re-create the orchestral feel of the album, whereas at (say) a B&S show, nearly every instrument on the album is represented live.
The Mohawk outdoor patio was easily the happiest place on Earth when Lekman launched into "The Opposite of Hallelujah," a sweet and wordy ode to familial estrangement—specifically the awkward responsibility older siblings feel to pass on whatever bit of wisdom they've received to their younger siblings. (Before the urge to criticize takes over.) The lyrics, which couldn't be wordier or more aggressively earnest, distinguish Lekman's act. In fact, his closest lyrical cousin might be The Fall's Mark E. Smith—whose wordy ironic punk schtick was recently adopted by Art Brut. Perhaps it's the stage's close quarters or the stripped-down presentation that performance after performance from one side of town to the other calls for, but something about Lekman's show rocked in an unexpected way. There were the violin and viola, which sound like pop-orchestral flourishes in recordings—live, though, they sounded like a guitar solo over the bridge. The drums were live, loud, and synchopated. Mellower performances benefit when the tempo rises and the drums get frisky at the live shows—even the most twee routine in rock knows this score.
It seemed last night as though more than a few fans saw a good show coming. The line out the door was impressive, and the half-hour wait to enter (even for folks with credentials) was only salvaged by the sounds of Bon Iver, a fantastic and forceful singer/songwriter who performed earlier.
When Le Loup took the stage for DC Does SXSW at Cream—a vintage clothing store that, like every commercial outlet in Austin, puts together a juryrigged stage for the festival, in this case on the back parking lot—about 15 people were watching. But by the time the District-based eight-piece had finished its surprisingly tight-sounding outdoor set, an audience of 60 people or so had assembled. Even some tough-looking, bleary-eyed banditos from the notorious Hole in the Wall next door had ventured out on the backyard patio to cross their arms, tap their boots, and nod their heads.
The party was sponsored in part by the Digital Freedom Campaign, an organization that advocates for "the rights of artists, innovators and consumers to use digital technology free of unreasonable government restrictions." I'm pleased as punch to drink a free Lone Star tallboy and see some great bands from the District represent—but wouldn't the Digital Freedom message be better served through the participation in the various panels surrounding Southby?
"It's just music industry people going to the panels, whereas here we're reaching out to the consumer," says Nancy Tarr-Wager, the group's artists and label outreach liaison. Reaching out to the consumer—or preaching to the choir?
It seems that any successful advocacy for artists' rights will involve striking an agreement with the music industry or, barring that, appealing to legislators. After all, there is already a massive base that uses new technology for the dissemination of music and other digital media. It's the widespread appeal of the message Digital Freedom supports that drew the attention of government and industry in the first place. Artists and fans have absorbed the message.
Meanwhile a quick glance at the panels schedule reveals any number of topics that would seem to tie in to support for open digital borders. Two subjects up for discussion over the next 24 hours are performance royalties and webcasting fees. There's a real opportunity in my mind to connect those topics with a broader understanding of the music industry as having shifted from product-oriented to service-oriented. It's a tectonic shift, and making it work for artists involves convincing legislators and lobbies it's a tectonic shift that's already taking place. Appealing to artists and fans seems to suggest that musicians need to organize for this looming shift when, in fact, it's a done deal and major labels are merely recalcitrant holdouts. (Albeit powerful holdouts.)
I, for one, am abundantly sympathetic to seeing free performances by great District bands while soaking up the sun (and the free Lone Star tallboys). Southby's all about these sorts of day parties, the message notwithstanding. Meanwhile there's also a convention going on that offers significant opportunities for networking and message crafting. Sometimes the DIY ethic that drives so many innovative musicians really doesn't translate so well into successful political action.
As a University of Texas alumnus and a native Texan, it's a little unnerving to come back to town for Southby. That's the time when Austinites clear out of town, as American Apparel–clad hipsters descend like a swarm of locusts on the capital, which is to say nothing of the plague of A&R execs that follows. After all, Austin's the Live Music Capital of the World; shows at every club every night is nothing new.
But it was a different circus that was the subject of complaint at Gonna Gonna Get Down 3, the party hosted at the Mohawk by Justin Cox and the folks at Austinist. In attendance were Catherine Andrews of Washingtonian magazine, as well as Reihan Salam of The American Scene. (Whose interpretive take on Samantha Powers's "monster" gaffe will gain new context if he follows through on plans to see R.E.M. perform tonight at Stubb's.) At the party, I met Dan Grant, a candidate for Congress who recently lost his contest for the Texas 10th District in the March 4 Texas primacaucus. Grant says that the hubbub that surrounded the Democratic presidential race between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama had consequences beyond the contest itself—particularly for down-ballot contests.
The contest attracted an unprecedented number of new voters and Democratic Party registratants. However, the hype didn't do much to enlighten the issues surrounding the other twenty contests on the ballot. The lack of information, he says, was astonishing. Grant—who lost the primary to Larry Joe Doherty—explains that new voters who showed up at polls to affirm their support for either Clinton or Obama were not necessarily aware that other contests were even at stake. Those new voters ticked off the first name to appear in each of the nonpresidential contests, claims Grant, lending weight to candidates whose names appear first in the alphabet. And in the end, D comes before G. Alpha-deficient Grant explains that there was a striking difference between results at those polls where the Doherty and Grant campaigns supplied literature and those that went unstaffed.
The Texas 10th isn't an easy district to field. Midwived by former Republican representative (and one-time House Majority Leader) Tom DeLay during the Texas redistricting fiasco, the Texas 10th was once represented by Lyndon Johnson. As the Austin Chronicle explains, until the Austin district was carved up by DeLay et al., it was fortress to Rep. Lloyd Doggett (who is now castled in one of the three districts that comprises Austin, the Texas 25th.) Today, the Texas 10th stretches from Austin all the way to Houston. "I put 26,000 miles on a car I bought in June," says Grant, describing his campaign along the vast stretch of highway 290.
Grant's predicament falls in line with an issue that's an increasing point of media scrutiny: the situation of down-ballot contests as the Clinton/Obama race goes on. The opportunity cost to the continuing campaign, it has been said, is the lack of a presumptive Democratic nominee to speak on behalf of (and fundraise for) down-ballot contestants. (Like Larry Joe Doherty.) My conversation with Grant also came before Shearwater's set and during a party at which free barbecue and Miller High Life were being offered, prompting at least one observer to hint that DC visitors are a circus in and of themselves.
This week, Campus Progress will be traveling down to Austin, Texas for the annual South by Southwest music festival - and we'll be live blogging everything!
Well OK, not everything. With over 1,000 bands in attendance and five whole days of music, films, and events, there's a lot to see.
We'll be talking with Phil Donahue and Ellen Spiro, creators of the film Body of War. We'll discuss net neutrality with Franz Nicolay from The Hold Steady. We'll talk to Green Owl Records about ways that the music business is reducing its carbon footprint.
And of course, we will feature coverage on the best up-and-coming new bands making their mark at the festival.
Coverage begins Wednesday, March 12th. Headed to the festival? Let us know so we can stop by and say hello.
Please remember that Campus Progress' terms of use do not allow promoting or endorsing any particular political party or candidate for office. Posts or comments that do this will be deleted.
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