Wednesday started with a trip to get wristbands at 7:30 am. Sarah, Lee, and I went to Waterloo Records, had breakfast, and waited in line until 9:00 at which time the announcement came that there would be a few hundred vouchers available at three different locations downtown. A mad scramble ensued on the early wet streets of metro Austin, but we ultimately came out victorious. A few seconds later and there wouldn’t have been any SXSW stories to chronicle. The next stop was Austin-Bergstrom airport to get Danny.
Once back at the house, Lee greeted us at the door with beers and Michael Jackson Thriller, spun on Lee’s phono player at perfect velocity. We made it through the first full case of Lone Star one-pounders and about 10 vinyl records before we ever left the house. Tussin was involved, as I would later learn. By this point we’re in full swing party mode with no end in sight. We gotta be there at 6:00, we gotta be there at 7:00, well we can wait until 10 and get real drunk first. That’s where I, Juan, Lee, and Danny proceeded to stumble downtown and make it into Stubb’s, but not without Danny getting denied at the door upon our arrival. He was drunk, but not so drunk he couldn’t outwit the bouncers and sneak his way on in. “by what criteria”
-Danny Harmon
Then I woke up puking at around 11am. That’s about all I remember but from the looks of things I figured I had eaten some sort of enchiladas the night before. We also discovered a fresh new case of beer in the fridge that nobody recalled buying. Juan filled us in—apparently we were split up once we got to Stubb’s. Danny never found us, but he and Lee were each independently booted out the gate. Lee had managed to stumble into a cop. Juan says that I bought two beers, drank them, and then he and I managed to find Lee and head across the street for a full pitcher of top-shelf margaritas and some Mexican food. Seventy dollars later we got a cab and took it on home, although that’s all second- hand knowledge. We caught a short bit of the Burden Brothers show, but missed The Donnas and Billy Idol.
I spent most of Thursday healing my alcohol wounds, napping and drinking Gatorade, showered, and was ready for another go-round. Sarah, Juan, and Reyna stopped by and we all enjoyed some smothered pork chops, fried oysters, potato salad, collard greens, fried chicken and cornbread from Gene’s. We made sure to get some more beer and get the evening off to a fever pitch. After again playing vinyl like it never went out of style, we took off on foot to the funk fest. We made it down to
Flamingo Cantina to see a truly fantastic show. The first band was zZz from Amsterdam.
Their stage antics and insane reverberated sounds drew my ass into a good bit of ecstasy. The disorganization and technical difficulties were as integral to the performance as the drum beat. Later on in the weekend I ran into zZz again and am now on their mailing list. The Witnesses (NY) were up next from 12-1 and they proved freakishly cool even though they had enough hair to cover Sasquatch from head to toe four times over. I think the keyboard player chick freaked out Lee and Danny with her unabashed display of teeth, never-ending grimace, and scary vocals. We went down to the Vibe at 1:00 with some hip-hop from ESG, I think, or so, something like that. Danny had intended to see another artist who ended up canceling. After getting more sauced, we headed out the door and toward the hot dog stand. Danny ate two and a half super ass big hot dogs as we walked home. “my colon is full of sausage” –Danny Harmon
As we arrived at the house, we met up with Valli, the coolest chick in town next to my beautiful badass wife. Her brother and his girlfriend and a teacher from Midland showed up sometime later. We were all entertained by the performance by Eric’s girlfriend who managed to throw up on Lee’s floor and decided to get into a heated argument with some dude on the phone for an hour or so. I thought it would be appropriate to applaud her unfortunate actions, so I did. Then we sat on the porch and made some attempt to entertain ourselves with song, drink, smoke, laughter, and lots of White Stripes on vinyl and DVD. We had a hell of a time of rocking out until the wee hours and passed out on the floor/couch/chairs.
We awoke on Friday and had a nice visit from Lee’s dad who brought us brisket, sausage, chicken, chips, and Pepsi from Llano, which came as a welcome surprise to our hangovers. What a dude, that Joe. We hooked up with Sarah and went down to Searight for some disc golf (Sarah was photo documenting). Danny proved his worth with some damn fine drives and consistent comedy. Sarah came back with a master collage of perfect photos. Lee was the lazertag master once again. The weather made us reflect on why we love this part of Texas. Friday night was my long awaited hip hop awakening, starting with Danny reciting some words to Josh, Sarah, Lee, and I that made us all visualize some ultra hardcore porn scenes only Danny could dream up. We then went to Flamingo for the Visionaries show to see Sleep of Oldominion, DJ Rhettmatic, SonGodSuns aka 2Mex, Writer’s Block, and LMNO.
I was completely transfixed by the intensity, especially from 2Mex. I couldn’t believe the energy in the place, damn the Flamingo—comin’ through again! Danny, Lee, and I stumbled home making up amateur rhymes. Meanwhile Sarah had long since fallen asleep after watching Napoleon Dynamite with Josh. Lee threw on some tunes and we all made it until 6:30 am with beer in hand and vinyl in play.
Saturday.
Danny and Sarah went out to the Glassy Knoll for some pieces of blown glass jewelry. They found a bad ass parking spot along the notoriously crowded Congress ave. due to Sarah’s mad skillz. The Dog and Duck is where we met up with Josh when he was off work.
Madness! Our tiny beloved pub had turned into a 6000 visitor/night outdoor venue. We found a bench under the tent that spanned the parking lot and were promptly blocked by some amazingly rude chick who decided to share the bench with us, showing off her panty peek to Sarah. It was too much for our pub loving souls to see the debacle, so we entered the vinegar stenched pub. Fish and chips, open-faced roast beef sandwiches, cheese, and a shit ton of Live Oak Full Moon Pale Ale Rye soothed our stomachs and fueled us for the night to come. Lee’s neighbor was playing rhythem guitar outside but the whole scene out there was too unsettling to stomach.
Saturday night proved our commitment to Lone Star Beer was not to be questioned. We stopped in to Emo’s to get a lil’ Aesop Rock with a refreshing side of hard rock in the vein of GNR from a Swedish band called the Backyard Babies sprinkled in. Good show, but that venue just doesn’t have the atmosphere I can dig on for some reason.
The three festival-goers partied until 2, got some dogs from the freaky ass buck-toothed dude in the van, got home and proceeded to annoy the shit out of Sarah and Josh. I made up a new genre of music on the didgeridoo with Lee as the sole witness while Danny showered his drunken ass and packed for L town. I kept reciting to Lee and Josh my coined “I just wanna make music with out bothering anybody” with a robot monotone hip hop star wanna-be approach. Danny partied like a true rock star until somewhere in the neighborhood of 4 or 5. He got a good nap in while Lee and I made everybody else at SXSW look like the church lady. The cab showed up at 5 something in the morning and Danny was off, just like that. I won’t lie, my drunk ass had some watery eyes for a minute reflecting on the week of laughter with my friend the Original City Fence aka Danny. Lee and my drunk ass partied until we saw the neighbors leave for church at 9:30am, then like the true rock stars we are, woke up at 3 or so in the afternoon and started all over.
Another round of disc golf on Sunday, this time with Josh. Again Josh and Lee beat my score, but damn we all had some good throws. We watched the sunset and drank at the park bench admiring the old oak trees for a couple of hours. Some satisfied disc golfers headed back to the house enjoying some YeaYeaYeas for a few rounds of Nillson on vinyl, as well as a few turns of some of Lee’s 45’s. Josh held back at the house since he was sans-wristband and sans-into SXSW. Lee and I made it down for one final round at Emo’s for some bands, Parts&Labor from NewYork—a good punk band, Big Balls and Pudge Zeppelin from Austin showed us how being a tribute band can make people on the street stop for a second look. We wandered over to the Casino El Camino for some Blackjacks and fries (eggplant sandwitch with olive spread and shallot mayo). Nothing’s better when you’re at the corner of 6th and drunk. We shot over next door and saw Karaoke Apocalypse: The Dead Motley Sex Maidens from Austin. Damn, wha? Karaoke and tribute bands at SXSW? Yea, okay, I know, but they actually put on a pretty good show. The drummer was giving those shiny, shiny, Zildjian cymbals a beating they’ll never forget. One last cabby ride home, another round of Nillson, with Josh enjoying the ethereal experience of sleep and Shmillson combined, and the ride was over. Until next year.
