SouthXCityPaper 2014: Day 3
Please note: This article is published as an archive copy from Philadelphia City Paper. My City Paper is not affiliated with Philadelphia City Paper. Philadelphia City Paper was an alternative weekly newspaper in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The last edition was published on October 8, 2015.
Split Single, Vertical Scratchers, Future Islands, Kirin J Callinan, SOPHIE, Empress Of, Connan Mockasin and more.
Five (minus one) picks from Thursday
Split Single (1 p.m. @ Swan Dive Patio)
The first set I saw today and also the only performer I saw who acknowledged the awful events of the previous night, with some solemn comments about the strength and vitality of the SXSW community. As Pat Rapa relayed, I was a few blocks away at the time of the incident, and was oblivious until leaving Stubb's an hour or more later. I understand that Fucked Up's singer Pink Eyes made some poignant remarks during their sets as well, as I'm sure others did; there was also a festival-wide minute of silence at midnight tonight. Otherwise (and besides some cancelled shows at venues on the affected block) the tragedy didn't seem to have had a particularly notable effect on the day; if anything, it made it feel all the more precious, and vital, to be here sharing and rejoicing in the power of music. What an effing gift.
Anyway, Split Single is a brand new band, a power-pop power trio and an old-guard indie supergroup of sorts — along with Vertical Scratchers, one of two acts I saw today who fit that entire description — with Britt Daniel (of Spoon and Divine Fits) and John Wurster (of Superchunk and the Mountain Goats) and fronted by Jason Narducy (of Verbow and apparently sideman to all the cool kids.) John and Britt were unfortunately not in evidence (odd, as Britt’s something of a SXSW fixture), but I barely even missed them… Narducy and co. still kicked out some major jams, taken from their forthcoming debut record, with a nice Ted Leo-ish balance between punky crunch and jangly sweetness. “Waiting For The Sun” in particular is brilliant; as good or better than the Jayhawks’ classic of the same title.
Future Islands (2:30 p.m. @ The French Legation Museum)
One of the most in-demand acts at the festival (it’s okay, they’re playing a ton), and for very good reason. Well, the reason might have a little too much to do with David Lettermen, but still. A clear case study in what difference a frontperson can make. Musically speaking they make perfectly solid synthy new-wave pop/rock, not too different from a zillion other bands (who are all here) (although I could swear they used to be a bunch weirder), but what skyrockets them apart is the highly unusual Mr. Samuel T. Herring.
A notably well-groomed fellow (he had the good breeding to remove his ball-cap and sunglasses when taking the stage to entertain us), Herring sings in a theatrical, soulful, Tom Jonesy croon — occasional dipping into a demonic throaty growl — which is striking enough on its own. Add in the nonstop kineticism of those newly notorious wobbly legs (he said he’d tweaked his knee recently — better be careful!) and his intensely melodramatic, caricature-like facial expressions, and he’s easily one of the most thoroughly riveting performers I’ve seen. Everything about the man is intense, in a way that makes it almost physically difficult to look away when you’re watching him. Midway through a breathless, sweaty half-hour set that felt far longer (in the best possible way), the woman next to me turned and declared: “This is like sex!” I don’t disagree.
Kirin J Callinan (9:15 p.m. @ Cheer Up Charlie’s Indoor)
More or less stumbled across an utterly dumbfounding performance by this Australian: an imposing, at first confrontational figure emerging from enveloping haze of Cheer Up’s small, smoke-filled, red-lit interior space; shirtless, clad in camo cargos, combat boots and gold chains, muscly and tattooed and craggy-featured, declaiming gender-political free verse atop a gothic, punishing churn — sometimes purely industrial, sometimes more guitar-fueled. A bit Nick Cave-y, Jamie Stewart-y, dark dark dark, but ultimately not really like anything else; teeming with danger and wizardry. He tossed his guitar into the air, spun it swiftly, caught it. His copious pedal-boxes were arrayed in a tight, ritualistic semi-square, roughly four feet on three crisply orthogonal sides. Unwitting stagecraft sorcery: the smoke machine was aimed right in front of the drum kit, and every kick drum hit sent a perfectly circular smoke-ring vortex drifting toward the front of the stage. And then he slipped a strange but thoroughly gorgeous Bowie-esque ballad into the middle of the set, and somehow it fit perfectly. Not sure exactly how well any of this translates to record, but this was incomparable; almost definitely the most intense and epic set I’ve seen so far.
SOPHIE (11 p.m. @ Hype Hotel)
Actually wait, no, this was even more epic. OMG OMG OMG, SOPHIE!!!! So: Sophie is the man (yes he’s a man) responsible for the absolute queerest, toothiest, most addictively delicious, impossible perversion of an electro-addled dance-pop banger in 2013 (how can it be dance pop if there is NO BEAT?? how can it be 1000% of a singalong anthem if SOPHIE doesn’t even sing… or Does he? Is there anything else like it ever?)… to wit, the aptly, succinctly titled “Bipp” (Want to try it? You should try! If you don’t you might never know how it tastes so good. Sweet like whipped cream… etc.)
Devastatingly — almost — the answers to the aforequestioned questions were almost all not revealed at SOPHIE’s 11 p.m. set at the Hype Hotel tonight, because he didn’t play BIPP, because his time was cut short. BUT actually it wasn’t devastating at all because the answer to question #3 is that yes, there is an entire insane DJ set of anything else like it where that came from, I know because I heard it, and it JUST AS good/weird/gooey/AMAZINGGG. And even another one of them (the last one) also had lyrics about it making you feel GOOOD (which is what Bipp is about, and btw is also what all of SOPHIE’s music is about doing.)
Hearing it all splode out in one big post-Halloween candy rush like that, a vague formula — well more like just a frame of reference — did start to mentally coagulate, as in there is a way that I understand what is happening here, which is something like Rustie or Hudson Mohawke “maximalist” “trap” with most of the aggressive edges re-origami’d into just ever further loopiness, plus chipmunk candy R&B-pop singsonging dolloped on top. (The singing part is still a sublime mystery. Why doesn’t he have a singer with him for all that singing?) New question: When do these tracks get to be RELEASED???
By the way he has awesome red hair. (Worn sort of Skrillex style I guess, but shorter.) Makes sense that he’s apparently Scottish. And he smiled a little but not much, appearing nearly as reserved as his songs are hyper-giddy kittens. Also there was an amazing sweaty collaborative dance party up front and after it ended we all high fived and hugged and thanked each other. And minutes later I was back at Elysium for Machinedrum (funked-up semi-abstract jungly break-hop euphoria, with a live drummer!) and the peak kept right on peaking.
HONORABLE MENTION
Empress Of (9 p.m., Cheer Up Charlies)
Only caught a couple quick songs from this diminutive Brooklyn lady, but it was strong, attractive stuff — intricate electro-indie pop with light, slightly R&B-ish vocals and IDMish sounds, electronic but not overly so, a little dark, her performance offhand and charming and grateful — a fitting foretaste of a similarly styled set from the entirely adorable and perfect Jessy Lanza, airy avant-tech-pop chanteuse nonpareil and the superhero Junior Girl (as in, like a Junior Boy, but a girl) behind one of last year’s most perfect albums.
Also: Mazda makes ice cream (or, their promotional co-synergist partners do, or whatever) with machines that spray liquid nitrogen on the cream (and into the surrounding atmosphere) as it churns, which is zippy and dramatic and kinda bad-ass (and tasty), but seems a little wasteful, no? What does this tell us about their guiding corporate principles?
Also: “South by Southwest is the ultimate fun playtime for cool people; it’s like our reward for paying attention to culture, being early adopters, actually caring about things.” —my friend Matthew (paraphrased), at around 12:30 a.m., as he unloaded an improbably lengthy series of sandwiches from his backpack, the fruit of a day’s worth of sporadically finagling his way into assorted VIP lounges.
More SXSW Coverage:
