SXSW summarized

I started off writing about this on the Little Otsu Studio blog, but now that I have my own thing, it seems more appropriate to continue the saga here.
(I just was about to say "I started blogging about this" when I realized the appropriate term should still be "I started writing about this." It would be like saying "I started zining about this." Still trying to wrap my head around this format.)
Anyhow, this is the analogy I like to use for SXSW. Do you remember (if you grew up around one) going to Chuck E Cheese as a kid? It was always super exciting in theory and the place seemed massive, but your carb overload and attention overstimulus starts to wear off after a while. There is that sort of forced sensation of fun that becomes codified, so at some point you start to wonder if it is really all that it's hyped up to be. Add into this the creepy voyeur/flaneur dynamic of excessive documentation. Also, you and your friends are just there to have fun, but some of your friends go in expecting that a guy in a giant rat suit is watching all the kids playing to cherry-pick their particular fun-having methodology out of the crowd and anoint them with Chuck E magic. How do you think they find all those clapping arms to mount on the wall?
This may sound excessively cynical, but I still associate Chuck E Cheese with fun. I like overstimulation in small doses. And if you don't play the game of caring whether or not the rat is watching your every move, you will have more fun. And would I really say "no" if Nolan Bushnell was under that rat mask and wanted to help my "career"? Probably not. The man started Atari!
My Thursday afternoon was spent at Ms. Bea's Todd P show, and then I pretty much spent the rest of my evening glued to one spot, the Habana Annex for the Upset the Rhythm show. Chris and Claire are awesome, they booked our UK tour and their band Hands on Heads played a ton of shows with us, and they put out our album. Playing their showcase was the ostensible reason for the entire trip. (Oh yes, my band for interest of disclosure, which probably doesn't apply if you are reading My Blog, is called KIT)
This is a pretty killer lineup. Gowns on first, followed by Soiled Mattress and the Springs. Bizarre yet straight-forward smoove jazz played by a strange trio of New Yorkers. Avi is on the comp I put out under his solo guise of Dim Diamond, but here he is pounding the drums. Saxaphonist Matthew Thurber also does these insane comics on Picturebox and on his own. I buy the issue of 1-800-Mice that I don't have already, which has three sushi chefs hunting down Peace Punk.

I think we play at that point. Some technical snafus, I think my pedal gets unplugged or the battery dies during the first or second song. I think we recover. There is apparently an overdubbed video on Superdeluxe. I am the one with the SG. Thanks "El Douche A" for the mild amusement.
High Places play right after us. I feel like I see them more than I see some bands that live in the Bay Area. Not that I'm complaining. Rob and Mary rule. I take the most photos of the trip here before I realize something is fucked with my memory card, so there are pretty much no other pictures for the rest of this trip.

Oh, did I neglect to mention that the Habana Calle Annex is outdoors with a giant tent? And that our stage is a giant mobile truck that was used on the Warp Tour? During the Hawnay Troof set, which actually was the first act of the night, VC invited people on stage and they bounced around, pretty literally, as the thing was probably not designed to hold that many people at once.
John Maus played after High Places. His records are great. I was expecting a band maybe, but much like Ariel Pink, he sings along to pre-recorded tracks. "Sings" may not be the right word. He freaks out a lot, runs around the audience, gesticulates wildly, is off the fucking hinge. I would not have guessed this level of aggro-ness based on his music. He looks and acts like a cross between Malkamus and Bob Linder from Total Shutdown. Truly bizarre.
Death Sentence: Panda are next. I see the kids from New Bloods at the show, and a few peeps from Terrorbird, and Tom Loftus, and a few SF peeps roll in for DSP including Tony Bedard and Chris Rolls. No Age rolls in from like their 4th show of the day. After the show I start walking with Russell back to his house, but he just moved to Austin like one week prior, so we get sort of stuck in a weird area. The first and hopefully only time in my life, we come across one of these rickshaw bike guys and he says he'll take us back to Cesar Chavez for $5. At this point I haven't slept in a while and my feet hurt, so we buck up. This guy is dragging at least 300 pounds of competent human flesh up a small grade hill. I feel intensely guilty and we are going about the speed of a brisk walk. We give him ten when we get near the Congress bridge. And then it's a long walk down Congress to Russell's, where I sleep on a hardwood floor with some sheets by his dryer. I am so tired that It does not matter.

Have to break this up into smaller chunks, this is too much to read at once I imagine. Friday is described in the next post.