I have a deep rooted fear to the 3rd power of CBS’s Chris Hansen, which is why I’m very nervous being in this small venue packed to the gills with pre-pubescent teenage girls laden in the latest Hanna Montana perfume.  No, I’m not some creep; I’m just an old guy in the back of what appears to be a middle school dance uncomfortably awaiting the SXSW performance of NeverShoutNever!

NeverShoutNever! Just so happens to be the alias of eighteen year old Tiger Beat heart throb Christopher Ingle and not some crazy new thrash punk band out of Norway BTW . This sleeper pop minstrel in the last two years has gone from simple high school library card carrying member to playing on the now defunct TRL, sharing bills with the likes of Honorary Title-The Scene Aesthetic, and landing a desiderate candied spot at two of 2009‘s Bamboozle shows.

The sound of a thousand salad forks racing at break neck speed across a classroom blackboard erupts as the pocket-sized Rod Stewart takes the stage. His diminutive feminine voice is barley audible even with the assistance of an adept sound wrangler and the best engineering Peavey can muster. Just when I am sure security is going to pounce the crowd cattle prods in hand, a gentle mutter of “Hello” finally lulls the crowd to a twitter.

Over the course of the next thirty minutes I am lulled by teen angst cloaked somehow by the sounds of new age/pop balladeer channeling his inner Woody Guthrie . I’m not sure if there was something in the Kool-Aid or what, but I must say I left there somewhat impressed and not terrible upset that I was now thinking of fluffy bunnies.

Words and photos by Dustin Downing