I'll be honest about it: the whole MUNNY thing? I don't get it. Maybe I would've as a kid, back when I was a D&D nerd who loved (but sucked at, frankly) painting miniatures, but these days, eh, it ain't really for me. A totally blank, featureless toy I've gotta paint myself? Why the hell would I want to pay money for that?

Then, though, I see the pictures of what other, significantly more artistically talented folks do with the MUNNYs they get, and, well, I'm pretty damn impressed. Who are these people, and how in the heck do they do that sort of thing. No, I may not get it for me, but it's mind-bogglingly cool to see the end result.

Anyway, if you're similarly curious/fascinated/confused, stop by the DOMY Store today, Sunday, April 19th, for their MUNNY Decorating Party. It's an all-day deal, and you if you show up you get a free mini MUNNY mobile (whatever that may be), plus decorating materials to make it your own.

The decorating party will be held at both the Austin and Houston DOMYs, by the way -- 1709 Westheimer here in Houston (next to Brasil) and 913 E. Cesar Chavez up in Austin. The stores are two of only three places in the whole state holding the parties, so if you're into this stuff...

Labels: Arty Shit, austin, H-Town News, Public Service Announcements, Things To Do, Things To See

gaijin || Link || E-mail || 0 comments

[Ed. Note: And here, a few days late -- sorry about that, y'all -- is the last installment of SXSW coverage by SCR/Houston Calling writer David A. Cobb. As before, all photos are David's.]

I had an early start to my last day at South By Southwest, catching up on email and loading up on coffee before meeting a friend and heading off to the Aussie BBQ and catching short sets by The Boat People and Red Ryders. Both bands were excellent and worth checking out. A short walk later, we watched The Warlocks play to a sparse crowd upstairs at Maggie Mae's Gibson Room. While the band sounded excellent and put on a good show, it was obvious that not only is its music meant to be heard in the dark, but that the band members probably hadn't seen daylight in quite some time. The Warlocks played a new song or two from the band's upcoming May release, which thankfully sounded much better than anything on its last album.

By the time we picked up our coveted passes to the SPIN party and made the trek yet again out to the Filter magazine party at Cedar Street Courtyard, I was exhausted. Two full days of running around in the Austin sun had me beat, so we got some lunch and just relaxed a bit before catching a couple of songs from Manchester's The Whip and then heading to Stubb's for sets by Glasvegas and Echo & The Bunnymen. While I had heard good things about Glasvegas, I wasn't completely sold on their album (although "Lonesome Swan" is a good one). Their live set was solid, but the "rock star" persona was a turnoff. It could be me, but the lead singer's kisses and hand-over-heart gestures seemed a bit contrived. Regardless, I enjoyed their set and would see them again if given the chance.

Echo & The Bunnymen played a much better set than when I saw the group during SXSW a couple of years ago. I am a long-time fan of the band and have kept up with its career over the years, so it was interesting and a bit surprising to see people of all ages getting into the band's music and singing along to what amounted to a "greatest hits" set (along with a couple of new songs that will be on the group's next album). From "Villiers Terrace" to "Lips Like Sugar," the band kept the crowd engaged throughout their short set.

After leaving Stubb's and running into the line for that night's rumored Metallica show, I decided to try my luck in line to see what would happen. After being told by a doorman that I'd never get in, I foolishly left the line (my friend Chip did not -- see his video here: www.atomicned.com) and after a meal with a friend and a couple of songs from White Lies' set at Cedar Street Courtyard, I spent the rest of the night trying in vain to get into various shows. Due to the lines and my mounting impatience -- not to mention a very early impending flight -- I called it an early night, my ears ringing and still humming Glasvegas' "Geraldine."

Labels: austin, Musical Crap, Out-of-Town Stuff, Pseudo-Reviews, SXSW

gaijin || Link || E-mail || 0 comments

[Ed. Note: The second installment e-mailed-in by SCR SXSW correspondent David A. Cobb; all photos by him...]

Unfortunately day two didn't get off to a great start. Smacked in the head and guts (and feet) with the fact I am not, in fact, 25 years old anymore, I was in hell for the better part of the morning and early afternoon. I have only myself to blame -- well, mostly. I began the day by attending a blogger's panel at the convention center, which featured (among others) Robert Duffy of DoneWaiting.com. Afterward, I met up with a friend and headed to the Filter magazine party at Cedar Street but sat at an Irish pub for an hour or two while I recovered. At the Filter party, we ran into Blake Smith (The Prairie Cartel), who was hanging with a friend and Samantha Barnes of Filter. We had a great time with them and caught a great set by Los Angeles band Great Northern, who played songs from its upcoming album, Remind Me Where The Light Is.

Arthur Yoria played one of his trademark solo sets at Vintage Lounge, which is always good to see. I bought a couple of copies of his latest album, 281, which I plan to give away on the street today. We followed up Yoria's set with a few songs by energetic Houston pop-punk band American Fangs at Darwin's on 6th Street, and capped off the afternoon at the Justice Records party at Lucky Lounge to see ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead. My ears are still ringing.

I kept the evening light, and watched impressive sets by Meat Puppets (Stubb's), former Death From Above 1979 drummer Sebastien Grainger (El Sol y La Luna), and Sleepercar (Club DeVille). By far, Sleepercar's set was the most impressive, and even front man Jim Ward seemed surprised by the crowd's response. Much of the packed crowd knew all of the band's songs and played sing-along throughout the set. It was a perfect ending to a great day of music.

Labels: austin, Musical Crap, Out-of-Town Stuff, Pseudo-Reviews, SXSW

gaijin || Link || E-mail || 0 comments

[Ed. Note: David Cobb's been running nonstop since getting up to Austin, not too surprisingly, so I'll be posting his emailed-in updates in his stead. All photos were taken by David, too...]

The first day of South By Southwest always starts with travel of some sort. This one was a cheap, early bird flight to Austin from Houston. After some time at the hotel, an old friend and I headed to the convention center to check in, and then headed to the Fader party grounds to get a jump on the wristband line.

I had wanted to check out Wild Moccasins at Club 1808, but after seeing how far it was we decided to keep it around the general 6th/7th street area for a while. After an entertaining set by DJ Ceeplus Bad Knives at the Austinist party (and apparently just missing a Levi Johnson sighting), we headed to a RealAle party at Lovejoys. Free beer at noon should have been an omen but we've never been that good at decision-making, so we binged for 45 minutes and then took a cab to the "Texadus" Houston band party at Co-Lab to see Benjamin Wesley.

Unfortunately, the Austin fire marshal had beaten us to the show and shut it down before it even started due to the lack of proper permits. Thankfully, Reggie, Gretchen, and the rest of the gang were very accommodating and let us hang out a while and partake of their free Tito's and Chipotle. Free Tito's and Sweet Leaf tea, that is. Crazy... But we met some great people and had a good time for the hour and a half we were there.

Of course, SXSW is about more than free food and drinks. It's about the music, and the rest of the day/night was a blur of great musicianship. Austin Collins & The Rainbirds played a stellar, much-too-short, set out at Saxon Pub. However, The Damnwells' set at Threadgills South ruled the afternoon. After great opening sets by The Winterpills and KaiserCartel, the band -- which features Houston musician Matt Hammond on drums -- played essentially a greatest "hits" set, including songs from its latest album, One Last Century (which is free at www.thedamnwells.com).

Next, I got back to the rock with a packed set by Ume at Maggie Mae's. Lauren and the gang absolutely killed it, and watching her work the stage makes me think that Ume will have a very successful career. The entire room was captivated by the band's set, which was highlighted by "The Conductor" from its new Sunshower EP.

Unfortunately, due to scheduling issues I arrived at the Young Mammals' showcase as the band was packing up its gear. Sucks, but I got to talk to the guys and grabbed a copy of their new album, Carrots. Next, I made the trek out to The Tap Room at Six to see Johnny Goudie and The Little Champions. It has been years since I have seen Johnny Goudie and he did not disappoint. The mostly female crowd was in love with his music, which was culled from the band's new album, El Payaso (which you can get on emusic or iTunes). His set was cut short (not an unusual occurrence during SXSW), and he wasn't happy about it but I couldn't blame him. Don't most bands save their last song for the big one?

Zolof The Rock'n'Roll Destroyer -- a band I have heard about a lot over the years but have never seen live -- played a great set at Maggie Mae's. A heavy blend of synth-pop and hard riffs, the trio isn't breaking any new ground but singer/keyboardist Rachel Minton has a Veronica Mars thing going on that only enhances her stage presence. Cute doesn't begin to describe her. Similarly, I met Kelly Ogden, the singer from The Dollyrots, on 6th Street in line for pizza.

Austin instrumental rock band My Education played an impressive, ear-shattering set at Soho Lounge. This was the second time I have seen the band live, and wasn't disappointed in the least. It was the perfect time for moody, instrumental rock, and the two songs I saw next by Athens' Maserati were big stunners as well. While I could watch Maserati all night long, The Damnwells were playing another set -- and who knows if the band will ever play again -- so a friend and I headed to Vintage Lounge for the set. The band again played a great set, punctuated by front man Alex Dezen's trio of solo songs to end the night.

Labels: austin, Musical Crap, Out-of-Town Stuff, Pseudo-Reviews, SXSW

gaijin || Link || E-mail || 0 comments

I awoke on the first day of SXSW's Music portion in the comfy confines of Wade Allen's living room, roused by the promise of a French-pressed cup of coffee and another 12-14 hours immersed in the pursuit of audial bliss. I engaged in a one-man dry oatmeal eating contest (i won after only a single round), rolled up my air mattress, and caravaned with the rest of Golden Cities through the utter chaos of downtown Austin in search of the first Human Party Virus location, a sports bar on the lonely end of 6th Street called 3rd Base.

As i greeted Jay, chief mastermind behind Human Party Virus, he informed me that they had already had to move the sound system inside and back out again, thanks to noise complaints from the brown brick business park tower across the parking lot and an impending poker tournament respectively. The proliferation of 35 yards of plasma screen tvs (2 yards of which were present in the men's room) all around the bar presented sporting events of all types. The omens were inauspicious, to say the least.

Happily, the bands were not swayed by such trivial setbacks as $4 Miller High Lives and proceeded to rock with aplomb. Woozyhelmet shredded through several instrument-swapping tunes, channeling my favorite memories of Drive Like Jehu and Shellac CDs in the receiving room of Bookstop. Bad Credit No Credit, arrived from the Brooklyn branch of the 8088 Record Collective, juggled woodwinds, pennywhistles, and most impressively, simultaneous euphonium and drumset, recalling nothing so much as a righteously pissed coed marching band.

After the cathartic theatrics of Bad Credit No Credit, it came time to route wires and drop samples with Narreme. Despite a lurking clipping sound somewhere in the mix, we were deemed sufficiently bangin' to warrant an interview with a girl from UofH's fledging television station. After fielding a few questions about the what and wherefore of Ableton's effects, it was back to the Explorer to retrieve the trusty drumset for a Golden Cities set. Although i deafened myself by placing a Roland keyboard speaking roughly twenty degrees to the right of my head, the loving support of our friends from Holy Fiction, Hollywood Black & Wood & Felt gave me the drive to listen in and continue to hit my drums absurdly hard.

We were followed by another sampling of Brooklyn talent in the form of Inoculist. Featuring two transplanted Houstonians (one of whom has at least one and possibly two famous siblings, if i am recalling my rumors correctly), Inoculist span a set that recalled the delicate gravity of Low and more than a little of one sibling's plaintive tunes. It was gratifying to see some of our own performing such thoughtful and, daresay, weighty music, whether the Texas Hold 'Ems inside bothered to glance up from their two pair or not.

A late dinner, yet again at Kerby Lane (where i was the unwitting victim of a cougar-pawing) spoiled my chances of catching School Of Seven Bells and getting within spitting distance of the black hole of hype in downtown. On the long and winding drive to our evening's accomodations, i reflected a bit on the almost polarly opposite dynamics at work between SXSW & the parafestival working itself out in sports bars & living rooms across Austin.

The latter is prefectly represented by the oppressive crush of people milling about within the confines of offical showcases and RSVPs. The goal seems to be as blindingly visible to as many strangers as possible. To do this, a band must render themselves as a object sufficiently contoured for the various organs of media, be they hot (radio play), cool (music videos) or utterly tepid (Twitter tweets). How does a band distinguish itself amongst so much noise? Invariably, there is a need to present itself as some above Joe Garageband--possessing that intangible quality of Fame. Unless one happens to pursue utter sycophancy as an aesthetic choice, it is difficult to keep from saying or doing things that might look a bit daft in the sober aftermath of the long drive home, to say nothing of the effects on music.

At the other end of the spectrum lies endless networks that fail to distinguish between public & personal space, composition & improvisation, and (most tellingly) between performer & audience member. At every single show, i've seen phenomenal examples of this kind of interplay. Promoters become band members, who in turn become merch handlers, who in turn become hustlers tapping away text messages to scrounge up support for the next band's set. Acts schelp their gear from the stage and return to comprise the majority of the audience for the next band. People pass between identities as easily as their riffs, working for nothing less profound than the outpouring of the collective joy of music. There's no place for the pedestal of rock stars here. Everyone has the same tag: Participant.

On a final note, i feel compelled to relate the worst band names i have seen so far. Tuesday's award goes to More Cowbell. Wednesday's "winner" is Cancer Bats.

Labels: austin, Musical Crap, swsw

Grammaticus H. || Link || E-mail || 0 comments