SXSW ate my brain.

How do I start this? I'm a little overwhelmed to be sitting here in a fold up chair at my computer in the Bucket office, eating a mishmash of salad bar and listening to the Vulture Whale Boys practicing in the next room ...it's hard to believe that just this morning I returned to work. At 7am (7:15), I walked through those automatic doors to the ER with my cup of tea, I sat at my desk. I was not sleeping heavily on Will's couch, or sitting and waiting forever for the Austin Transit, or racing down the street, pushing through the crowds, holding on to Amber's hand as we scan the sides of buildings, looking for the venue to the next show.

I love my friends. I'm sure I told them ten thousand times this week how happy I was to be making this journey with them.










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LISTS:

TUESDAY:
Team Hydration Departs -
We met up with The Bucket Mobile (Travis and the Twins)
and The TTS Party Van a couple of times on our journey.



Once at a honky-tonk truck stop. Then again at the Dairy Palace in Canton, Texas....home of Freedom Toast.




WEDNESDAY:
Lots of Panels
Not enough caffeine
I love the Shinerbock

THROUGH THE SPARKS DAY!!!!

(some pics from the show)









FOOD:
Will took Amber and I to the Whole Foods Flagship Store. THREE floors of underground parking. And the food was amazing.

BANDS:
Through the Sparks
Tally Hall
Slaraffenland (Hometapes Showcase)
Pattern is Movement (with Scott Solter - Hometapes Showcase)

Thursday-

College and Community Radio Panel (really Awesome) (Birmingham is so missing out)
I think I forgot to eat

BANDS:
Dark Meat (Team Clermont Day Party)
Kaki King (Convention Center Stage)
Tally Hall (Found Party)
Cloud Cult(Emo's JR)
Shout Out Out Out Out Out Out(Beauty Bar Patio)
Matt & Kim (Beauty Bar Patio)
Vashti Bunyan (First Presbytarian


Friday-
PANELS:

SXSW Interview: Booker T Jones
Interviewers: Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot
Very awesome indeed. I was sad to learn from Sweetdog as we walked out of this panel that I had missed Booker T play with Jason Isbell the night before.

The Relevance of Retail
What Makes a Successful Tour? Marsha Vlasic from MVO was a trip.

BANDS:
Some Reggae Band (High Times Party)
Jessie Sykes (No Depression Day Party)
Casa De Chihuahua (on the side of 6th Street)
The Paybacks (Pop Culture Press Party)
The Hoodoo Gurus (Pop Culture Press Party)
Clem Snide (Buffalo Billiards)
Adem (A patio somewhere)
The Cape May (Lambert's - Flemish Eye/White Whale Showcase)
Chad VanGaalen (Okay, well a video of Chad VanGaalen)
Immaculate Machine (Lambert's - Flemish Eye/White Whale Showcase)
Dennis Coffey (Ponderosa Stomp - Opal Divines)
Archie Bell (Ponderosa Stomp - Opal Divines)
Wiley and the Checkmates (Ponderosa Stomp - Opal Divines)
Bobby Patterson (Ponderosa Stomp - Opal Divines)
Harvey Scales (Ponderosa Stomp - Opal Divines)


Saturday-
Slept in.
Forgot to eat again.
Damn you, Southern Comfort.

FLATSTOCK!
Amber and I wandered the stalls for hours. She bought herself and Will some really cool stuff.
I bought an awesome M Ward poster.
I called Tim while wandering through the room. "Who's your favorite band?" "Um? Uh."
It wasn't a fair question to be sure. It's really the worst questioned to be asked.He hesitated. And searched and stammered. Tim works at a record store and loves music. ALOT. So I bought him a t-shirt of a hot dog eating a hot dog.

FADER PARTY!
After wandering through what looked like a Levi's Store and then a maze of empty rooms and couches and doors with signs that said DO NOT ENTER or teased us with ADULT SWIM STAFF ONLY, I followed some arrows to the bathroom and instead found myself in a courtyard with a massive amount of drunk hipsters talking and talking and talking. I followed Travis through the crowd and found Wes, Jake, John, and Dr. Drew standing and smiling, and watching the end of No Age's set.



During the 501 Happy Hour, there was a "Who looks the most like Jesus contest.
I wanted to enter Travis:



But instead, this guy won...or was it that guy?



BANDS:
No Age (Fader Party)
Ladyhawk (Fader Party)
VietNam (Fader Party)
Redman (Fader Party)
Aziz Azinari (Human Giant Showcase @ Friends with Patton Oswalt & Eugene Mirman)
TimandEric.com (Friends)
The Teeth (Park the Van Showcase @ Habana Calle 6)
The High Strung (Park the Van Showcase @ Habana Calle 6)
The Friends of Dean Martinez (Park the Van Showcase @ Habana Calle 6)

Followed by a late night trip to IHOP with the Flemish Eye boys.

Thoughts I was thinking at Lunch - Highlights:

Matt and Kim - Saw them at the Beauty Bar Patio. With the energy they exude on stage, no matter how technically talented they are, it made for an incredible show. Rebecca and I COULD NOT STOP SMILING. Even when the drunk irish guy behind me kept trying to slam dance everyone. I elbowed him in the ribs. Really hard. And then I smiled some more.







The High Strung @ Habana Calle 6 (Park the Van Showcase) Right before they started, Derek (drummer) pulled the plug for the string of lights circling the small stage. Chad Stoker pulled off his glasses and pulled on his Rock goggles. And he needed them. Indeed. That man is crazy.








Pattern is Movement - Hometapes Showcase - Mohawks
Andrew and Chris were joined by Scott Solter (producer of their last two releases and owner of Tiny telephones - homecamp of John Vanderslice awesomeness). Chris Ward (drums) sits up front and to watch him play is a delight. The disjointed, turning, scaling vocals by Andrew Thiboldeaux seem like movements of the classical type...and I guess they are, just pulled forth by the distortion of rock'n'roll.








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for more pictures and commentary form SXSW, which apparently will be added daily until all of the freaking pictures are off my phone and I find all of my notes, visit:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/saraleah

Austin Bound

Dear Ones,

In 6 and a half hours I will step off of the diving board and plunge deep into the waters of Music Awesomeness.

If you recieve random indecipherable text messages over the next week featuring lots of exclaimation points....well. I'll just apologize in advance. I'll most probably be at a show, wishing to god that you could be there, sharing that moment with me.

I would give you a short list of everyone I plan to see, but my brain has melted from going through all of my notes.

So instead, I'll give you a picture of Chachi packing my suitcase.




I will update as much as I can while I'm gone. With Rebecca, Amber, Travis, and the Bucket crew in tow, we're bound to get into some trouble. I can't wait.

Tracy and Leah from Red Blondehead and the boys from Through the Sparks will be blogging together about their adventures in Austin. You can check out their SXSW blog:


http://blog.al.com/sxsw

Friday - yadirF

It's Friday night. I could be out, celebrating the fact that I've finished the week. I could be sitting in joyful banter at the end of a bar. Instead this evening, I sat wrapped in quilt at the cusp of the fireplace, my father sitting back in his chair across the room, our eyes staid on the screen of the tv. Kermit and Miss Piggy walked down the aisle, singing to each other. The colors of Jim Henson's creations lept from the screen. I turned to my father and smiled. In the darkness of the living room, I saw his glowing grin, his laughter that rolled through his entire torso. Our eyes met and we looked to the other chair. My mother turned, afghan spread across her lap, hand to chin, sleep drowning out every bit of jumping Muppet exclamation to be heard.

We watched the Illusionist. I found myself moving closer to the television as the story progressed, until I ended up sitting directly in front of it. I didn't catch the smell of cookies in the air, nor did I notice at all when my father placed a bowl of chocolate chip cookies and ice cream in my hand. I ate it, completely entranced, and in a moment, I looked down at my bowl. Magically, it was gone.

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"You didn't like the last album, so you're going to just write them off entirely?"
Travis held up the latest Dears album, eyebrow cocked. I could feel my face screwing up into the expression I give my mother when we're out shopping and she holds up a shirt.
I nodded to the affirmative. He sighed. We were standing across the cd rack from one another at Schoolkids last Saturday afternoon, each with an armful of cds.

The Dears? I couldn't help it. I was let down. Stratis, Kristin the Canadian's best friend, had played them for me almost two years before, a few of their previous albums...I found that the tracks were dripping with warm tones and catchy beats and I was hooked. So on a trip soon after to the House of Karls in Nashville, I flung aside my usual affliction of Buyers Amnesia (which I have said before, even though I complain about it, I totally enjoy) as I entered Grimey's Music, and laid down pretty much the last of my trip cash for No Cities Left. When I pulled out onto I-65 to make the journey home, I threw in the CD and after a few tracks, began to slowly die inside.

I did enjoy one track, which I included on my 2005 Life Soundtrack CD, but only because I enjoyed singing harmonies on the song. Maybe my expectations were too high.* Maybe I have terrible taste in music. Maybe I have incredible hearing loss. * Maybe I have lost all sense of reason.

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The Dexateens Show
Hardwire Healing CD Release
The 40 Watt, Athens, Georgia

Holy Hell. The Rock and Roll.









Check out Nathan's pics from the show

Autumn Sweater

"What time do you want to meet up? 9pm? Does that sound okay?"
My head tilted left, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, my hands busy cutting the corners of one more little bucketboy picture. "Mmmmhmmm, Trav, that sounds fine. I think I'm going to take a nap before the show." My stomach growled, I closed my phone and tried to get the tape sticking to my fingers off of one, then another, transfering the little spare pieces in a Charlie Chaplin type of innocent confusion. What? What? Eyes darting from one hand to the other. I WAS tired. I rubbed my palms together, gathered up my coat, turned off the light and collapsed on the couch.

"What are you doin'?" My feet stretched across the arm of the stale, paisley couch. I kept my head underneath the warmth of my deep wool coat, pressing my ear closer to my phone. Gorjus's voice drawing me from slumber with a yawn. "Sleepin'. What are you doin'?"

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for the show? It's almost 8'o'clock."

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Brooks and Rebec-co and I stood underneath the staircase to the left of the stage. Leaning up against the railing in the room full of so many surprisingly unfamiliar faces. Who were all of those people? Seriously? We'd become so used to the returning crowd at the Bottletree, the carousel of regular customers coming out to every show, we'd kind of decided that was it. It was a little jolting to be amongst this sea of strangers and it was also decidedly inspiring. They had come out for the show. Maybe they would come out for more.

I found myself completely taken in by Georgia's pale and quiet grimace of intent. I sketched her face again and again, trying to capture that perfect concentrated gaze as she set the pace through every song.

Halfway through the set, I walked down the steps to the floor and caught the eye of my friend Greg who was standing to the right of the stage. He motioned for me to come to him, and I turned and pushed and turned and slipped past the crowd to his side. I stood right under Ira's Compact Deluxe.

My eardrums were vibrating with fury. The boys next to me were wavering with every note that Ira played, the girls with their arms held tight to their chests. In my head I kept thinking that this moment was meant for something else, for someone else, not for me. It was too much, too much for me to hold. I was wrapped in the distortion, this mess of sound. I was taken to nights, roads, driving, in the dark, around Highland Avenue in the winter chill. I was turning up the road and up the stairs and into my old apartment, in the dark, in the aftermath of a storm. Jessica was there, candles and darkness, blankets and beer and hours of conversation.




When the song ended, I had to step back and look around. Travis had appeared at my side, smiling. The guy next to me was still dancing. The faces around us were fixed on Ira's crouching form. James approached the keys and with one quiet measure the journey began again.

Laying down the gun....

This morning as I mindlessly packed my little bag for work, I pulled the Hope For Agoldensummer album from the towering stack of cds sitting dangerously close to my bed and slipped it into the inside pocket. I had to bring it with me, because everytime I've taken a moment to daydream in these last two days, every minute wonderfully wasted, I hear "Laying Down the Gun" and it has been building and building and building into a frenzied triumphant chorus.

I see my friend Sunni just as she sat on her couch Saturday night, leaning back with Ralph's steel guitar, pushing her golden hair out of her eyes and picking out the all of the tiptoeing, intricate loveliness of every line as we sang the harmonies high and whispered:

"It turns out, instead of blood you've got love songs traveling through your veins. What I found were all the words you ever sang tapped into the bones of your rib cage...."

I think of the first time I saw it performed live, upstairs at the Moonlight, the tense and burning energy turning around the stage. Deb Davis and her xylo. Will Taylor wavering from side to side, cello churning. Claire's eyes are closed. She's sitting straight and tall, her face turned up into the light as she's crying out:

"Instead of stopping our hearts, we play music because we're rock stars.
We come together and we work and we fall apart...."

I listen to the song again and again and it burns brighter every time.

"I play music because I'm in love with silence and sound. Just like a machine I picked my pen...."

And all of the sudden, it stops.

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There is a cave up by Garden City that is rumored to have been used as speakeasy during Prohibition. The Welch* brothers told me about it today. They smiled at me, standing to either side of their elderly mother as she was signing her paperwork, and looked up into the flourescent light above my head and then at each other. Jeff* turned to his brother and then to me,"It's still intact. I think so...at least it was when I was younger. You'll have to use a rope to get down into some parts of the cave, but it's worth it....Banger Cave is the name." Interesting. Sounds like an awfully good adventure for the spring. If anyone possesses any additional info about the cave, please let me know. Joe* gave me some general directions.

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Pictures:
From Saturday night's Skybucket Workforce Extravaganza


Amber and George the Turtle. BFF.

(from a play-by-play sent to gorjus later that evening)

"...the deadly Connect Four match between George the Turtle and Michael Douglas the B.H. Action Squirrel. A few borrowed Busch Lights into the evening, Travis and I dueled (through our plastic animal counterparts) and sadly, I must say that Travis and Michael Douglas won. After realizing that he had the winning row, Travis promptly jumped to his feet, hoisting Michael Douglas with his wildly wobbling head into the air and raced out the front door and down the street, yelling "We WON! WE won! YAYYYY!!!" all the while."



I, in the mean time, collapsed into the floor, defeated and downtrodden.