Please advise...

Update: Adding Mumford & Sons since they failed to show up on the ACL lineup (like everyone else)

Well it's spring, the wildflowers are blooming, people are crowding the hike and bike trail and my work cube gets basked with the daily morning sunlight, which sounds real nice but actually just translates to me feeling sweaty while drinking my morning coffee...guh.

More importantly (and less disgusting), this spring also means there will be (and has been) a slew of great concerts flowing through this town.  It's the Austin concert purgatory between SXSW and the announcement of the ACL lineup where I try to find some bands that I missed at the former and hopefully won't overlap with the later.  So with all my tickets officially purchased, and all my "courtesy" and "will call delivery" (wtf?) fees begrudgingly paid,  let's get into what I consider the best shows on the docket in chronological order (I will update the blog later with some thoughts on the shows).

Shearwater

Wow, this came way too late for it to really matter, but whatever, you try moving out of your place of 5 years, hosting an out-of-towner, finishing Season 2 of Damages AND maintaining a blog.  Anyway here's my recap of this year's SXSW:

I have highlighted the bands I saw with a green (for totally awesome), yellow (for good) and reddish/pink (for meh).  I would normally have another color for bands that were really bad, but I can't say I saw one, so that's the rating system.  Here we go!

Tuesday 3/16 (Day 1): Usually day one is reserved for Wednesday, but thanks to a tip-off from "Huggy", a HR rep for Zynga in San Fran, I was able to head out to the Fader Fort on Tuesday to catch the interactive Zynga Party which had The Constellations opening and Metric headlining.  The party was a perfect way to kick off this year's festivities, with almost all of the ammenities of the Levi's Fader Fort plus some great features like a fake cow milking game, bull riding and ping-pong tables.  I skipped the bull-riding as I had already learned my bow-legged lesson in Hollywood at the Saddle Ranch, but we did use a ping-pong table for a flash-mob flip-cup game which was a major highlight of the night.  

The main event though was of course Metric who rocked the place with a fairly similar set they did a few months earlier at LZR but with a few less tunes (this is SXSW after all).  Only issue had to be the stain of an audience member in front of me who gave me "the look" after I guess I bounced around near him too much...dude, it's Metric, take your earplugs out and rock a bit would ya?  On the opposite end of the fellow audience member spectrum was Sarah who somehow didn't mind the rocking and whom we cleverly dubbed "Day 1 SXSW friend".

We decided afterwards to head back to my place for a little after-party (non-R-Kelly style) when, off my balcony, Anthony heard some music playing in the distance as well as, what else: a pulsating fireball.  Of course we had to go find out what this was, so we had a friend drive us to the gated off front entrance to the old power plant (Seaholm) where we found the source of this oddity: an RV and a band.  The RV was actually a karaoke lounge and was called the {RV}IP.  Its main task during the week was apparently to drive around town (with random sxsw-goers), throw mini-parties and allow people to sing karaoke in their beer and liqour stocked RV.  So we listened to some bad Spice Girl karaoke and then hopped in the RV to be taken off to its next stop, which ended up being The Driskell hotel.  While we could have probably stayed longer, we decided to call it a night since it was a Tuesday after all, and we had four days to go.  

As sxsw is all but a week away, I figured it's time to unveil "The Sheet", which, in my opinion, is the best sxsw band review spreadsheet edited by 6 random people who may or may not know each other...known to man.  I decided that this year, I'll use my blog to get it out to the masses, and by "masses" I really mean a few friends who might read this and probably my mom in Michigan (hi mom!)

So without going into a dissertation on how this will be the best and/or worst sxsw ever, or the annoyance and/or necessity of shortening the event name to just "south-by", I'll get right down to the sheet.  It's located here.

For those of you who have stuck around to read more for whatever reason, I thought I'd give you a small bio on some of the reviewers so that I could point out their particular style and taste in music (moving from left to right on the sheet):

Natalie

Natalie is a curly haired, indie music-loving, force to be reckoned with, if you don't see her bouncin up and down at a concert you're at, then you're probably at the wrong concert.  As you can tell from the sheet, she's easily the most prolific reviewer of the bunch but will readily admit to you that she really only likes indie music so if a band happens to fall into any other category, chances are, Natalie gave them a 1 or 2 for no other reason.  Besides the 300 things she also does during any given day (like powering the sun), you can see her running around town lake with her dog Guinness.

Jason

That's me!  Like Natalie, I tend to stick with indie music, but I also enjoy electronica, rock, folk, bluegrass, industrial and the occasional DJ.  I can be found at a variety of venues, ranging from my favorites like Mohawk (prior to them getting that damned cement wall), Emos, Club De Ville and even at the worst venues such as La Zona Rosa (if there is no other option).  I am the guy in the group who suggests music to everyone even when it's not asked.  

You: "I went running yesterday and got shin splints and it hurts like a bitch".

Me: "Hmm, interesting, have you heard of this new super group with the lead singer of the Shins and Danger Mouse called Broken Bells?"

Ok, week 5: last week in a different country, then I promise to return to entries relevant to Austin.  This week is the reason why these entries are titled "other americas" and not just "South America" because this week was in El Salvador (that's Central America for the geographically-handicapped).  The main reason why I chose this country, known as one of the most violent in all of Latin America and which had been recently hit by a major hurricane, is because all of my layovers heading home went through San Salvador (the capitol) and so I figured I might as well check it out.  I used tripadvisor to find a resort on the Pacific that was, in my head, going to be a vacation from the vacation.  I decided on La Cocotera, a resort in La Barra de Santiago which on one side was the Pacific ocean, and on the other, a lagoon.

Now that the basis of this week is laid out for you, let's head back to Lima, where I woke up, completely hungover from the previous night's pisco sour and guinea pig binge and I still had to pack all of my stuff.  I was pretty much a wreck the whole morning until I finally made it to the cabbie who drove me all the way to about a half mile from the entrance of the airport where he was stopped by the local police (awww so close).  Luckily I had left with plenty of time because I was well aware of the mandatory travel delay in these countries.  This one involved a very heartfelt, tear-laden plea from my cabbie to the police officer to let him off just this once for his apparently expired credentials.  After about 30 minutes of this, and calls back to the cabbie's employer, we finally were let go and I was able to make it to the airport and to my gate with plenty of time.  I even was able to change my flight so I could get in to El Salvador earlier.  This seemed like a great idea at first, but since I was being picked up by a member of the resort staff at 6pm, and my flight was now coming in at noon, I realized that I would still have to wait, but just in a different airport.  So, I rushed around the terminal to find precious wifi so I could e-mail the resort which resulted in non-chalauntly sidling up near VIP rooms and coffee shops until I finally found a signal.  When I finally connected, it was only moments before I had to board and so I got to my seat not knowing if anyone would be there on the other side.

The flight was uneventful except for the fact that this was basically my 7th time getting an emergency row, or some other random row with a lot more leg room than normal.  It was as if the airport attendants sympathized with my traveling woes in actually getting to the airport and decided to hook me up on the plane every time.

When I arrived in San Salvador, I headed through customs which involved some flirty girls forcing me to use Spanish even though they knew English very well, and asked me if I was coming for surfing (this being the main draw for American tourists).  I decided to take the high road and told them that I was indeed coming for surfing and that I was a badass...why do I do this?  I will never see them again, yet there seems to be this innate compulsion to make myself seem more interesting to complete strangers.

Week four is what I like to call "the week of being adventurous"...

Throughout the week, the  phrase "let's be adventurous!" was used non-stop by Andrew, Tracy and myself.  It was originally coined by Andrew and then later mocked by Tracy in her best Andrew voice, which sounded more like Booger from Nerds than Andrew. We used this phrase at any point we wanted to get someone to do something they didn't want to do. For instance:

You: "I don't want to climb that mountain"

Me: "Let's be adventurous!"

You: "alright I guess"

Now just replace 'climb that mountain' with anything you want, for instance: 'try that drink', 'rob that old lady', 'smash that ancient relic'...all are within the boundaries of the LBA phrase.

Week three is actually going to be split between two countries; Chile and Peru...and once again I am writing from my iPod so bare with me. Up first was Santiago, Chile where I spent four days total checking out the sites and sounds. The flight in was actually pleasantly uneventful. Tracy and I were even lucky enough to get on a newer 767 equipped with personal wide screen on demand entertainment systems that allowed me to watch all but the last 15 minutes of Burn After Reading. It's always a good sign when you're pissed that you have to get off the plane earlier than you want...a feeling usually reserved only for Jet Blue flights.

After arrival, we took a taxi into the Marriot which Tracy was able to secure with her baller rewards points thanks to all of her consulting jobs in other cities. The room had a spectacular view of the Andes which more-or-less surround the city. After setting our stuff down and partaking in one of the wines we bought from Argentina we decided to head into town to grab some dinner. We decide to take the insanely clean subway to the Bella Vista district of Santiago that suffers from being labeled as touristy but in my opinion still had quite a few locals. I sometimes tell myself these things in order to cope with the fact that I am a total gringo. My meal was good and tasted like a home cooked roast beef. Tracy seemed to know what the best thing to order was though and she ordered this incredible corn dish that was cooked in some stone bowl. I'm beginning to see a trend down here in delicious tasting dishes coming in stone containers. We also had some wine which was the most expensive on the menu coming in at a little over $10! We went home in a taxi ride from hell (details of that story are to be forgotten and never mentioned again as they put a damper on the trip) but make it home to the safe haven of the Marriott which apparently can only be understood by cabbies if you roll the r's of the Marriot.

Week 2 of my trip to other Americas began much like week 1, with a really shitty travel situation. Tracy and I began our flight from Rio to Buenos Aires with a flight to Sao Paulo which involved the captain practicing what felt like a Mario Kart-esque power slide but on an airplane. No me gusta. Then we get to Sao Paulo where we wait in a line to re-check in which took an eternity and we see that our already way too long layover has been delayed another 2 hours. The airport lines here are like little social gatherings...there's people with ice cream hanging out, groups of youths chilling by the conveyor belts, people taking pictures of each other getting their flight information, it's like this is all their first flights and they need to take it slow in order to truly enjoy the wonders that air travel has to offer.

After finally getting through the local hangout line, we wait at our gate, using the time to practice our rusty (or in my case non-existent) Spanish until we hear the flight to Buenos Aires starting to board. Upon handing over my ticket to happily get on the plane to take me away, we find out that this is the earlier flight to Buenos Aires and that ours hadn't come in yet, and there was no word yet on its arrival. So we wait another couple of hours until we finally are able to board OUR flight to Buenos Aires at 11pm (about 4 hours later than we intended). Now, if you read the previous post, you'll remember that I suffered from a pretty nasty sinus infection in Rio and for those who have never experienced a sinus infection on a flight, let me tell you that it is like the olympics of pain. During the entire decent I had the urge to wail like the infant sitting two seats behind because the pressure felt like my head was definitely going to explode.

We finally made it to Buenos Aires at about 1am and make our way to customs where we are greeted by an over-excited Argentinian customs agent who grabs us and goes "American!?!!". "Uh, yes" we reply as he quickly corrals us towards a station that has 4 other attendants stationed ready to service only Tracy and myself for what we had previously heard about the week before leaving the states: a visa fee. You see, because America charges a fee to Argentine people, they have decided to reciprocate the kindness and also charge us. So we knowingly get out our credit cards, and hand it over to our respective agents who then take way too long to figure out how to run my card and print out the fee, all the while, our greeter agent ran around like he was trying to man a NASA space launch. "Have they never done this before?" I thought in my head, while the greeter agent swooped back over to help the attendant helping Tracy. As if he heard my thoughts (or possibly saw my agitated face that was now filled with a pressurized combination of mucus and blood thanks to the plane ride), the agent looked at me and said "this is the first time we've done this, you are the first person to get a visa here".

So basically, what happened is that because my flight was delayed, I got the pleasure of arriving at 1am, an hour into the very first day they started this awesome visa program that in turn got me a giant, ugly-ass sticker on my passport for the low-low price of $131 USD. I take solace in the fact that I was number 1, and that the price is solely worth the story...sorry Tracy, being number 2 has to burn a little, I guess when you tell the story, you can change it to "we were the first" and leave it at that.

So, assuming our little nightmare is over, we head over to the real customs agents who, I'm not joking, takes another 30 minutes trying to scan the passport and the freshly minted visa to no avail. At about 2am, and being frustrated that she was still at work, the customs agent tells me she's fed up in the universal language of a shrug, eye-roll and head shake. And with a stamp-stamp, we make it out of there, grab our luggage, and take a taxi to our new apartment in the Palermo district of Buenos Aires. Anthony, who arrived earlier that day (or at this point; the previous day) let us in and told us his harrowing travel tale that involved: not having to pay a fee, meeting a friendly local who gave him a bunch of tips about the town, and getting a free ride to the apartment from someone who just wanted to help him out of the goodness of their heart. So, we say goodnight to the lucky SOB, and head off to bed to gear up for the week in Buenos Aires.

Disclaimer: This will be long, so what I did for you, oh short attention span sufferer but faithful reader, is put words in bold in order to form summaries that highlight what I have done and maybe peak your interest in the rest of the paragraph.

My trip to S. America began pretty terribly, Natadrew (combination of roomate and his gf's name who are a part of the group I am traveling with) and I were all ready to go when we find out that our flight has been cancelled due to the blizzards in DC. Apparently Obama was able to land so I don't get why I couldn't. So I'm obviously upset and decide to just head over and meet some friends at the Highball for some drinks and dinner. DJ Car Stereo (Wars) was there so I figured it would make me me feel better to hear him mix lil mama, modest mouse and sound bytes from the dukes of hazzard...and it worked, about two songs in and I totally forgot about the trip and was doin some very purposeful head rocks...the tasty martinis and Big Lebowski bowling alley look-alike of a place didn't hurt either. Also DJCS(W) sounds like he's been working hard in Brooklyn because he had a ton of new stuff that were all badass.

So next day, take 2, we have to embark on a 2 layover flight that headed to Dallas, then Sao Paulo, then Rio... I check our flights before we left and there in bold red letters next to the flight to Rio from Sao Paulo were the words CANCELLED I call, and they assure me it hasn't and there must be a glitch, so Natadrew and I head to the aiport. The flights from Austin to Dallas and Dallas to Sao Paulo were pretty uneventful but of course, like the computer had said, our flight to Rio was cancelled...thanks American Airlines, you truly are the McDonalds of airlines. The receptionists tells us that we need to get our bags, get in a cab and head to a different airport in the center of Sao Paulo to catch a different flight they had over there. So we head through their fairly lax security and make it to a cab that basically takes us on a tour of the slums of Sao Paulo on our way to the domestic airport.

Finally about an hour later we succefully land in Rio after getting complimentary butterscotch candy, shampoo sampler and cheese sandwich...interesting. I can't wait to see what swag I'll get on my flight to Buenos Aires.

We head over to our apartment located in the trendy and upscale Ipanema district and meet up with Tracy, who had just gotten there that morning after dealing with her own traveling nightmare involving an overnight stay in Panama, and Anthony, who has been in Rio for a week and looked darker than Wesley Snipes in a snow storm from his week on the beach. He, being the lucky son of a bitch that he is, had no troubles with his travels and actually was treated to a Rio celebration during his layover and met a hot Brazilian who offered to show him around when they made it to Rio.

So we set our stuff down, grab a caipirinha drink that Anthony and Tracy had perpared and start our night. After a few drinks we head over to Porcao Churrascaria (sorry no Yelp link) to eat wayyy to much delicious meat (including a chicken heart and qupin which is meat from the neck of the cow). Unfortunatlley I was starting to suffer from no sleep and what seemed like a sinus infection that made this incredible pressure on my face, so I had to head home while others went on a boat party.

Day 2 in Rio, I'm feeling a little better so we head out to the beach for some sunbathing and people watching. The beach here is great; the sand is nice, the water is perfect and there are people who come up to you and sell you things that you need, like cervejas. I somehow managed to lose my debit card in the sea after not thinking straight (see aforementioned easily accessible cervejas) so that was a hassle to take care of, but no money got stolen and I should be getting a new one in Argentina. After a few hours at the beach, we head in and get ready for our trip up to Sugar Loaf at sunset which is basically a really incredible peak that you can see all parts of the city. The views were spectacular and instantly made all of the fears and hesitations I had about the city melt away.

We head back down and then head over to a section of the central city to go to some pubs and dance clubs which were also all really spectacular and unique. The club we went to was a three story building that looked like an old hotel but instead of a reception desk, there was a bar, and instead of a lobby, there was a samba band and dance floor. I did a little dancing with some friends and then headed back home sometime in the wee hours of the night.