Ah, Emo’s on an Austin afternoon. The conglomeration of hipsters, the ridiculous name and the sort of street bazaar layout of the place always make me feel a little trepidatious. However, the mood on Friday was instantly put into perspective when I came across a group of maybe nine guys all posing for a photo together with several people snapping shots of them – was this some kind of fraternal organization? Maybe they were semi-famous? As it turned out, they were total strangers who all happened to be wearing plaid shirts. “Badass shirt, dude!” I heard one joke to another. They laughed and bantered to each other, “You’re a stylish motherfucker too!”

The mood effectively lightened, I went inside for the last bit of a Dam Funk set (he told the crowd he’s doing 13 gigs here in Austin) and to catch the whole set of Memory Tapes, one of those bands whose name you hear bandied about during the week but whose music I’d never actually listened to.  They put on a hell of a show.
The opening number unleashed a wave of deep bass that literally had hair flying backwards like some zany 80s movie.  Of course, lead singer-guitarist Dayve Hawk was wearing a plaid shirt. Their blend of spacey guitar, drum machine and synthy loops seems almost too perfectly indie to really make an impact at first.

However, if you give it time, the more irresistible grooves begin to form almost within their existing song structures. All I can really say is, at first I thought the music was bland, but next thing you know I’m swaying and dancing and suddenly thinking “these guys sound great,” their softer side giving way to a blurry Fujiya and Miyagi. A third of the way through their set, the room is shaking – coming as close to dancing as a bunch of guys in glasses and plaid shirts will ever come.

Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Dustin Downing

The normal rule for those living in Austin these days is, there’s no need to go out of your way to see the hundreds of the local bands playing. However, when the psyche instrumental group Octopus Project is putting on the HEXADECAGON, a limited run special event that involves eight channels of audio and eight more of video, blended together into a psyche concoction so powerful it sent the Project out hustling a corporate sponsor for the first time. Two shows only, free, all ages, all freaks welcome. You bet Austin turned out for this one.

Performed “in the round,”  swimming onstage in the middle of the crowd, the buzz quickly wrapped around in concentric circles – because of the speaker placement and orchestration of the music, we’d all be hearing different shows. I glanced onstage and saw a feast of electronic equipment strung out across a pair of sawhorses.
The first crescendo of sharp keyboards heralded the video stream – which quickly reveled in its own nonsensical absurdity, flashing an assortment of gumdrops in various institutional locations such as grocery stores and school rooms. The drums popping in the background, you could sense the Octopus Project setting their tasers to stun.
The flood of syncopated sound and video was extremely well-coordinated. So much so that it reminded me that to actually pull off a truly psychedelic show you actually need to be smart. At one point there was a glitch in one of the loops and the band was either waiting for something to change or re-starting the machines when one of them commented, “this shit is complicated man.”

A dreamscape and sonic deluge continued – images roaring across the screen ranging in substance and style. Clay-mation, animation, stop-motion, video, fractals and screen-savers, the Octopus Project seemed to bring a truly inclusive projection system. The screens were actually on the roof of the tent, so the entire environment took on the feel of a more intimate IMAX. They are truly fishing in the sea of the unknown, simplifying the complications of media and technology and wringing some pleasure from the madness.

When Yvonne Lambert brought out the Theremin, it seemed to regain some of that instruments magic, as she guided the crowd through a pastiche of colors and sounds. I had written down that the music reminded me of an Inter-galactic Western until someone pointed out that was just saying they were Space Cowboys. Still, I’d have to insist that if I were going to take the Felix Baumgartner stratosphere suicide plunge, I’d have to listen to the HEXADECAGON soundtrack or a drunken rodeo band.

Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Dustin Downing

Glass Candy turned out a dance freak fantastique set at the Mad Decent Carniville Friday night. The whirl of neon and bright, festive lights flashing in the background synched naturally with the hard buzz of the electronics as the band kicked off their set. The electro-disco music Glass Candy cranks out reminds me of neon black light posters of Lamborghinis. Ida No and Johnny Jewel know how to make you throw down. We caught up with Jewel for a quick Q&A as he hauled equipment off stage.

Tacos or BBQ?

Johnny Jewel: Tacos.

If you had the time, what other act would you most want to see?

Jewel: I really wanted to see GZA but he cancelled yesterday.

If Glass Candy could play any non-venue what would it be?

Jewel: The beaches of Mars, and there would be water.

Something people don’t know about this festival, from the band’s perspective?

Jewel: It’s hectic. It’s just a cluster fuck, everyone wants to relax and chill out with the bands and really the promoters are running around like chicken with their heads cut off. There’s so much confusion, but it’s ok, it’s worth it.

Which was invented first roller skates or disco?

Jewel: Roller skates, they invented ceramic wheels in the forties.

Most memorable Austin concert experience or anecdote?

Jewel: I used to live in Austin 15 years ago and I saw Paulvo here and it was amazing. They’re an indie rock band from NC. They were just incredible. I was living in Austin and I hated SXSW because it was full of douchebags – well, not the people here, but it’s like a Mardi Gras – people just come in and really shit all over the place. So I tried to avoid it when I lived here, but that show was really cool. This is actually the first time I’ve been back since then.

This is the first time you’ve played here?
Jewel: Are you conflicted about that?: (laughs) Yeah, because I always avoided it. This is all friends of ours so it was easy to say yes. We’ll probably be back every year now.

Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Dustin Downing

You hear the sort of terms that music critics might throw around for a band like Men, and they might tend to sound over-inflated. Terms like electro-punk or dance collective. These sort of labels don’t really take into account that Men are a good goddamn time. The three-piece fronted by Le Tigre’s JD Samson was at turns hilarious, subversive, cool and flat out fun. Samson greeted the freezing crowd with plenty of appreciation and the band started to pull into gear. Men sounds like all kinds of crazy thrown together and twisted around. Halting, Kraftwerk style singing with some of the dance bounce and bravado of classic Devo or Talking Heads.

Samson and the band were clad in an array of color and strange outfits and appeared to have climbed right out of the carney sign behind them. Samson belting out lyrics like “I’m gonna make a baby / I’ve got plans for a new baby… it costs a lot to have a baby… I’m gonna fuck my friends/I’m gonna have a baby.” The crowd at first didn’t seem to know what to think of the band. They mulled around, bundled up under Factory Outlet American Apparel and nearly everyone sporting hoodies. Some seem puzzled trying to decipher JD’s sex (female, though she does have a mustache) others, going with the flow, spinning in their own world of dance. Men blast through a retinue of reconstructed pop songs and power anthems, all with fantastically blunt lyrics and pantomiming by Samson. Toward the end of the set Samson’s singing “I feel so free I could never die” over and over like some kind of loop in the insane last moments of Michael Jackson’s life.

Samson, the whole time strutting around stage, fearless like a French, gay Prince from the future. My notes have “cock-pop” on them, though I’m sure that’s not the most PC way of describing the music. Men are fearless and the only ones who seemed to have fun splashing about the shallows of pop music and culture, not trying to monetize it but trying to have a good time and broaden some minds.

Here’s the quick questions I put to Samson:

Tacos or BBQ?
Samson: Bbq

Who does she most want to see?
Samson: There’s a lot of people I want see that aren’t hear but I did see Camp Elberteen, Explode Into Colors. Those are pretty rad bands. (may need spelling on Camp E – I’m not familiar with that band)

Ultimate non-venue location for Men to play at?
Samson: We’re playing the art museum in Mexico City in August.

What’s something people don’t realize about this festival from the band’s perspective?
Samson: How hard it is to get your gear around.

Which came first, rollerskates or disco?
Samson: Probably roller skates.

Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Courtney Dudley

The consummate man-behind-the-curtain, Diplo, aka Wes Pentz, has been responsible for the rise of pop musicians like MIA, Blaqstarr and Santogold, a record label (Mad Decent) and one of today’s most hyped acts, Major Lazer. So it was pretty fitting that I was able to slip into the depths of the Mexican-American Cultural Center for a few minutes with one of modern music’s most influential heads. He’s done this a million times already and is cool and collected, friendly and far from flapped even though we spoke in the midst of what I was later told was an extremely hectic time.

How much time do you spend on business versus art?
Diplo: “I guess if you count my days it probably like 20% sleeping, 10% answering emails and the business side, 30% doing music like actually producing. 30% djing almost every night DJing. 10% jerking off, going to the bathroom and stuff.” He does a quick calculation and seems almost surprised, “yeah, that’s 100%.”

What’s the most rewarding collaboration for you, personally not financially?
Diplo: Working with MIA on the first couple of records, you know it’s been really crazy because it defined both of our work, and it made a lot of impact on a lot of people I feel like.

At this point a short skinny girl comes up and complains about how could it is. “We came from Maryland, from 70 degree weather and you brought us all the way to Texas and it’s freezing! And I’m going to be naked on stage!” Diplo smoothes the situation over as best he can. “It’s going to be fine, you’ll be jumping around.” She’s not happy about it, but soldiers on. I get back to the interview.

So, what’s your favorite state in the Union?

Diplo: Hawaii, because it’s way fucking hotter than anywhere else,” he says laughing.

At this point someone has come up and been sort of whispering into his ear. We start walking.

Diplo: Come on.

We walk down the hall as I ask him about his most favorite vacation. “Any time I go to Jamaica and work, I mean, it’s half vacation half work but it’s always fun.”

I ask if he ‘s got a kid. He does, but when I ask for advice for parents he’s quick with a laugh, “don’t do it.” I was really hoping for something enlightened – how to raise a child that’s open to the world, creative with art and is a firm enough businessman to make it in this cold world, but without possessing a “ruthless” gene. But at this point we reach the door and Diplo/Wes is telling the door guy “these guys are with me right here.”

“Who are you man?” the doorman asks. I’ve seen him badgered all day by strangers, stars and beautiful women all asking to be let in. “Diplo, I’m like the guy who’s headlining the thing tonight,” Wes says.
“So I’m not going to get bitched out for letting all these guys in here?” asks the young doorman.
Diplo’s wondering how many people are getting in. “They got two?” There’s actually four people trying to get past the gatemaster. “You guys said there was going to be three?” Diplo looks at his buddy, shaking his head, more amused than upset. Confusion abounds but eventually the dudes get in, and Diplo starts walking back toward the back room.
It’s kind of hard to get into contemplative questions in these moments and I let the parental advice slide.

Do you think the term ‘cultural scavenger’ is a pejorative?

Diplo: I’m not a scavenger, it’s not sitting dead when I eat it, it’s still alive!

I’m not saying you…

Diplo: Nah, I’m more of a hunter/gather.

As more people mill around him I try to get in a few more questions, asking about projects in the works.

Diplo: MIA/Santogold, Snoop Doogg, I don’t know, I can’t even remember all the shit I’m working on.

Anyone you’re particularly excited about?

Diplo: Anyone on my label, Popo, Rusko, Maluca.

There are more people needing help, needing encouragement and direction – a whole room of questions for the man, most having a higher degree of import.  We break off the interview and I slip back out to enjoy the show.

Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Dustin Downing

Imagine basically living on a bus. Traveling from town to city to college, a vagrant, a nomad, a castaway soaking in the hardscrabble tales of this country. Putting in work, with no time to shave or shower or change your clothes even. That’s how Juiceboxxx does his thing, man, and he’s proud to say he’s been doing it since he was 15. The Juicer climbed aboard Carniville’s stage on the coldest day of South-by and still managed to get the crowd roiling screaming with a hoarse voice to turn up the sound, “I’m 23 and already deaf man, turn it up!” Juiceboxxx flung himself around the crowd, on speakers, on stage, on top of a security guard wearing a neck kerchief and cowboy hat. After the show, I caught up with him to ask some quick questions while he was packing up his backpack next to the stage.

Tacos or bbq?

Juiceboxxx: I fucking hate these questions. [long, uncomfortable pause as I simultaneously lose my spot in my notebook]

Uh, I mean, what do you want to talk about?

Juiceboxxx: Sorry, I’m an asshole. Tacos I guess. [more awkward pausing]

I just have a few quick questions, you know trying to do a little bit here to work. Where do you get your energy from? How’s that?”

Juiceboxxx: I try to do my shows a certain way and I always have. I don’t do anything half-assed. Whether it’s 5 people or 50,000 people I perform the same.

Is it hard after a while?

Juiceboxxx: No, you’re programmed. Once you get onstage you get into a particular zone, a different, you know whatever. You know what I mean?

What’s your most memorable Austin story or anecdote?

Juiceboxxx: I always love slash hate it, you know what I mean? But I love it too, that’s a big part of it.  A fun show I played ….behind an Amtrack station with Spank Rock and Dan Deacon at like 4 in the morning, that was pretty cool.

What’s something from the artist perspective besides people pouncing on you with dumb questions every time you get 5 minutes to yourself?

Juiceboxxx: I dunno man, I don’t do it for any other reason besides that I need to do it. People need to know this. I’m not like a lot of motherfuckers – future dads – that’s not how I operate, I do this because I need to do it. I’ve been doing this since I was 15, you know, I love music.

All I have to say is, I’ve been writing since I was eight, Juiceboxxx, and maybe by the time you’re 32 you’ll realize that anything worth doing is difficult to do. Switch off the autopilot, get some sleep and count your money, because you’re making more than the writers.

Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Courtney Dudley

Of course, Japanther is the first group to actually pull a decent crowd out away from the beer, food rides and limited shade. It was probably one of the few time the fans were taking off their shirts before drummer Ian Vanek was able to strip his off. He kept on his skeezy Myrtle Beach-circa 1993 shades.

Japanther has been cranking out what your kids will call vintage noise rock for nearly a decade now and still hew to their punk roots, “My city is run by Homeland Security,” Vanek declares between songs. “FBI, CIA, NYPD – Fuck ‘em. I hope they end up in the same special place in hell.” Meanwhile, your erstwhile writer is eyeing his own satchel like a goon because it’s got a Mac inside it, not C4.

When Japanther kicks out the jams, it’s like falling down a pit of Ramones, except the further down you go, the harder and tighter the rock. And you can say this for the band – their fans can take the heat and don’t fuck with pretentious camera phone souvenirs. Even those at the Carnivlle not willing to brave the increasingly mobile crowd in front of the stage can’t help but alter their stride a bit as they walk around. Japanther’s swagger of drums and bass ripping through your body is a pretty killer soundtrack for strutting around a weird fake carnival drink-a-thon. Vanek imparts a last bit of wisdom in the midst of a short monologue on SXSW. “You gotta go out and live your own life and experience your own lessons.”

Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Courtney Dudley

Jacob Cottingham is from Louisville, Kentucky and moved to Austin a year and a half ago after traveling the county for 10 months in a vintage Airstream. He writes about politics, the environment, music and culture for a variety of publications. He’s published a weekly crime newspaper, edited a regional lifestyle magazine and was ghost writer for a book about airlines. In 2007 he received an award for Best Series from the Magazine Association of the Southeast. His favorite freelance job of the last two years was penning ridiculous “How To” articles for eHow.com, which included such gems as “How to Easily Fool A Child” and “How to Build a Ship That Sinks.” A graduate of Bard College, Cottingham is currently a columnist for 303 Magazine in Denver.

The Postelles are living the dream. Four friends from Columbia Prep high school get together, have a genuine rock star produce their album, tour the world and pull down praise from five year olds and grannies alike.

They are currently in the studio finishing up their first full length. Before they could even begin digging into brunch, the Postelles were fielding multiple interviews. I sat down with Billy Cadden and John Speyer to take some uncomfortable photos and hear about their SXSW – which was only about 45 minutes old. Here’s what I learned.

The Postelles – 123 Stop

Who they’re seeing: M. Ward and Department of Eagles
Who they would want to play with: Department of Eagles, or Dan Auerbach.
Most Excited About This non-musical activity: take a segway tour
SXSW Stories: none yet, “but we’re going to make some,” says John.

Fair enough. We took a segue of a different kind and discussed the epic year the Postelles just had. They released an EP last spring, introducing their take on good ol’ rock ‘n’ roll. The Postelles brand of garage pop brings out the youthful energy of past masters like the Beatles or a hard-charging early Rolling Stones. Their happy blast of high powered, catchy riff is easy to like. Billy says when the band was snowballing press this year, his grandmother got a call from one of her fellow seniors who had listened to them and loved it. At the same time, he says five and seven year olds have been to known to break out into uncontrollable jumping and dancing at the sound of the Postelles.

Billy says the EP “has the most embarrassing album art ever,” and which he also shot. Thankfully, John notes, “we just want to make songs,” and that seemed to be enough to gain notice from Albert Hammond Jr. of The Strokes. He signed on to produce the forthcoming single, which is about halfway finished.

As for surprises on the new album, John jokes, “It’s going to be surprisingly amazing.” Chicanery aside, both say the extra time and money spent on this new record has allowed them to fully realize their vision. Compared to the two-day whirlwind they spent in the studio for the EP, this latest session is a luxury yacht.

Fans looking for a Postelles fix will be glad to hear that Billy has grand ambitions for their online presence. He says they’ll be blogging and tweeting and all MyFacing their upcoming album release tour. Consider this an opportunity alert for our readers and check them out whenever possible.

Words and photos by Jacob Cottingham

Download The Postelles – 123 Stop MP3

Anyone close enough to feel the sound waves thrown from Bigelf’s stage can’t help but notice a delicately placed Yoda figure perched on top of the keys. The Yoda, “harnesses the evil forces,” says Fox who makes sure to keep the sci-fi zen master close at hand. Tonight, the band was almost without the Force. “We were leaving tonight to park the van and I didn’t have him… so I went back to open the trailer and get him out because I realized that tonight was going to be one of those specifically chaotic, heinous nights and I needed Yoda. Do or do not, there is no try.”

Fox and company are masters of their craft and paid some respect to Austin legend Rocky Erikson, name-checking the psych pioneer at the beginning of their set. Their epic brand of throwback rock conjures up the forcefulness of Sabbath with the cosmic possibilities of a Pink Floyd album. Once unleashed, the band plows through riff-heavy numbers that satisfied the South-by suits and superfans. When the power cut, Fox and beat up bassist Duffy Snowhill launched into the first bars of “War Pigs” and got some pumped up fan to sing Ozzy’s opening lines. Once the lights and power came back up to full capacity, Bigelf ripped into an extended rampage of sound with Fox playing the moog and Hammond simultaneously on either side of him, swaying back and like Samson trying to bring the temple down. While the Rusty Spur still stands, its safe to say those in attendance exited a changed people.

Words by Jacob Cottingham, photos by Mary Sledd

Bigelf on Myspace