In the heart of TX

SxSW deals with growing pains

by Bob Gulla

Shelby Lynne

Whaddaya get when you throw 9000 journalists, industry executives, DJys, and publicity flacks together with 800 bands in almost 50 venues? In most cases you'd get a big alcoholic mess. But in this case you get something by the name of South by Southwest, or SXSW, an industry music "conference" that haunts George W's city of Austin. The conference began in 1987, seeking to be a low-key alternative to New York's own New Music Seminar. But when metro-music types discovered the quaint charm of the city's 6th Street club scene, its Shiner Bock beer, and gut-busting selection of BBQ joints, well, bye-bye Big Apple. Hello, Tejas!

For musicians and music-types, Austin is truly an amazing place. Billed the "Live Music Capital of the World," the city is jammed packed with singers, songwriters, and guitar players of every stripe. Most of them, guys like Willie Nelson, the recently deceased Townes Van Zandt, Robert Earl Keen, Joe Ely, Alejandro Escovedo, Butch Hancock, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, rank as country and roots outcasts, more comfortable in the ramshackle saloons and beat-up studios of Austin than in the glossy, button-down climate of Nashville.

Unfortunately, when equal parts Manhattan and LA descend on an unassuming place like Austin, the city becomes something it surely isn't during the rest of year. Cell phones and expense accounts abound. Taxis, a leisurely mode of transport most of the year, make the gridded downtown area look like Midtown on a rainy afternoon. Restaurants, greasy spoons and four-stars alike, are jammed with black-clad hipsters. Only the ample local color down on 7th and Red River remain.

Of course, no matter how you look at it, it's fun. Even the original festival goers, those hoary vets who pshaw that SXSW has become a monster since its humble start, still attend. After all, where else can you find this much music in this small an urban space? Naysayers also pointed to this year's roster of rather unintriguing bands as a reason not to attend. OK, with the exception of Smith, Earle, Gomez, and Cypress Hill, marquis names were scarce. But a closer look presented an array of scaled-down possibilities. The Jayhawks played an invite-only "unplugged" set -- they called it a soundcheck for the their gig later that night -- and did their new, Bob Ezrin-produced album, Smile, immense justice in the process. The Bottle Rockets from Festus, Missouri, also played twice, once electric and once unplugged at a Doolittle Records showcase. The latter, with three guitars, a drummer, and a bass, proved to be a weekend highlight. The band members, who make Lynyrd Skynyrd look like prep school kids, coursed through a magical, funny and rootsy set that begged the question why weren't they huge?

Elsewhere, former Nashville girl Shelby Lynne traded her country shtick in for a Muscle Shoals sound and kicked ass. She's a gifted songwriter who looks and sounds great live and on her new album, I Am Shelby Lynne. Which is probably why she's destined for no more than a cult following. Then there were shows by the Silos and the Ass Ponies, the latter a fine, sensitive, and worthwhile roots band gone for a good five years before showing up in town. Martha Wainwright, the poor sister to Rufus and daughter to Loudon, played a bewitching set and proved she was every bit as deserving as her rather overrated bro. Nashville Pussy burned through their set, as did Sub Pop bands the Go and Gluecifer. The Unband sucked beyond measure at their gig at the launch of the new, high profile rock zine Revolver. Kevin Welch and Kieran Kane were dazzling together. Fu Manchu, at their two gigs, including a ripping one at the Waterloo Records, let everyone know they indeed were the future of heavy rock. Look for a tour featuring Queens of the Stone Age, Fu, and Monster Magnet coming soon.

Among the many countries having showcases over the weekend, the Netherlands, Sweden and France enjoyed good turnouts. But it's the infamous "Japan Not For Sale" showcase that gets the biggest rise out of festival goers. With bands like Puffy, Number Girl, Love Love Straw, Mummy the Peepshow, and Lolita No. 18, a night of Japanese rock is a gas, a truly wigged-out experience. Almost makes you wanna visit Tokyo.

A dull, four-day-long tequila haze prevented me from catching some other great acts. After you've been a few years, you lose the desire to sprint across town to catch a band you've always wanted to see. More ambitious and perhaps less drunk folks could've caught buzz band Enon, the Fastbacks, Steve Forbert, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Daniel Johnston, and about 765 others. Perhaps next year, then, we'll see you there?

GOOD NEWS. Jay Ryan from Providence's last great subversive pop outfit Six Finger Satellite, informed us of the band's "reformation." Ryan, along with Rick Pelletier, Shawn Greenlee on bass and Joel Kyack on guitar, will be playing a show at Fort Thunder this weekend. Check around for local time and directions. The band, who had a four-record deal with Sub Pop before disintegrating, celebrates its "tenth fucking year" together in 2000. According to Ryan, the band is working on new material but will also feature a lot of "covers of our material" at the gig. Guests include Drop Dead, Olneyville Sound System, and Lightning Bolts.

NOT SO GOOD NEWS. You've read in these pages my support for Stone Soup and the folk music scene here in Providence. Well, an issue's arisen for the kind people at the coffeehouse that deserves your attention. Its first season in the shadow of the Providence Place "Maul" has wreaked havoc on the organization this year, injuring attendance and sending folk fans into a panic. Potential patrons, searching madly around for a parking spot within a country mile of the venue, have turned tail and run, too frustrated to deal with the traffic, too pissed to pay the Maul a parking fee. Quite a change from the halcyon days of a Maul-less downtown, when parking was as abundant as the neon today. Combine that with the projected construction slated for the church next fall -- the Soup's 20th season -- and you get a big ol' mess. Richard Walton, head of the organization, is currently on the prowl for new space and is looking for suggestions. Keeping the site in Providence is preferable but not essential. Parking, however, is.