SXSW 2008 part 1 - American Princes

David's SXSW Journal, Part 1 of 5

DAY ONE:

Driving into Austin for South By Southwest is not unlike driving onto the set of The Warriors. Roving packs of young people, each member dressed identically, swarm out of the Austin Convention Center like water from a faucet, descending on 6th St. to gorge themselves on free barbecue and beer. Newcomers to the event thumb through their festival guides with the naïve belief that they can and will cram hundreds of shows and panels into the next 72 hours. Those of us who know better simply gear up for a sleepless week filled with hangovers and too many servings of potato salad.

"M. Ward...come out and play-yay!!!"

We find parking for the van on E. 4th St. and instantly a woman who looks like Janeane Garofalo rides up on a bike and tells us that we’ve parked in “Crack Alley.” Her tone implies that the moment we turn away, a swarm of addicts will lift up our van like a group of ants and carry it back to their lair.

That said, we chance it and hit the registration desk. The entire walk over, I’m distracted by the task of making fun of Collins’ shoes, which A) I’m jealous of and B) have about as much mass as the rest of his body. They’ve got a great, late-80s look to them, the likes of which I haven’t seen since Jesus Jones’ publicity photos from Liquidizer.

A guy from Jesus Jones

Collins and his new shoes

We don’t have any shows that night, so the rest of

the evening is spent getting drunk with our friend

Jeff (represented here by a beer cozy he owns,

which for obvious reasons is my favorite thing ever)

or, later, getting drunk with friends from Yep Roc.

We do hit the Hometapes showcase, but we just

miss Slaraffenland’s set, which is a crushing

blow as those guys are phenomenal. This

introduces an important conceit for my South By

Southwest experience: narrowly missing