It was a tough decision: stay and watch 2 Live Crew, who were tardy for their SXSW performance at the Levi’s/Fader Fort, or try to catch a cab and ride across the river to see the far more talented and successful Ice Cube. On quality alone, I shouldn’t have been anywhere near the packed “fort,” but quality isn’t what helped the Florida rap group sell more than 2 million copies of “As Nasty as They Wanna Be” nearly 20 years ago — it was juvenile, sexual foolishness.

Since I had already seen Ice Cube perform, and since I found myself a near front-row center spot on the floor, I decided to stay and enjoy the rude, crude, hip-hop Miami schlock. I wasn’t at all disappointed.

2 Live Crew aren’t about fast rhymes, intricate beats or social commentary. They’re about basic, raw, stoopid fun. They are the epitome of lowest common denominator, so it’s OK, the audience rationalizes, for everyone to let down their walls, raise their hands and sing along to the ridiculousness that’s perfect for Spring Break.

Even without Luther Campbell, 2 Live Crew exude a sexual energy and raucous vibe that makes women want to climb onstage and shake their moneymakers. Brother Marquis, along with founding members Chris Wong Won and Mr. Mixx, capably rocked the mic in Mr. Skywalker’s absence. Indeed, that contagious who-gives-a-bleep feeling, booming bass and strangely familiar and elementary lyrics foster a party atmosphere that makes you think, “No wonder the Broward County Sheriff’s Department hated these guys — something dirty was happening and it was hot!”

Several ladies from the audience joined the group onstage, most of whom had no problem dancing suggestively to the hits “Oh, Pretty Woman” and “Me So Horny.” In fact, one enthusiastic woman grinded on Won and Marquis’ knees and later found herself being lightly groped … willingly.

When it was all over, we all felt a little bit groped. Willingly.

– Post and photo by Tony Pierce

In the bowels of the Austin Convention center, blocks away from the rock clubs and BBQs, lies a treasure trove of concert posters.

Flatstock showcases concert poster art, usually sold by the artists. Started by legendary artist and Austin native Frank Kozik and the American Poster Institute, the 2008 SXSW Flatstock is the 16th Flatstock convention since 2002. (Flatstock tours various cities, including Chicago, San Francisco and Denver.) Featuring dozens of artists, hundreds of amazing posters and classes in silk screening, Flatstock provides an opportunity for rock and art fans to buy, learn or just absorb killer poster art.

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Some self-proclaimed SXSW experts advise that you shouldn’t see established acts at the music festival. They argue that with 1,500+ bands you should take in the new talent, the unearthed gems, the kids who wanna rock. The problem with that argument is that if you simply see the new blood, you have no baseline to compare them with.

On Friday night, Thurston Moore’s underground label Ecstatic Peace! held a showcase at the Mohawk Patio on Red River, and what a showcase it was. The punk rock battle royale of sorts started with a bang when Be Your Own Pet climbed onstage, asked the crowd if they were ready and proceeded to bring the noise like nothing we had seen all week. After three songs, the power went out. Some say because the generators ran out of gasoline, but others suspect because the Lord Above needed 15 minutes to gather his angels together so that they could witness the rock that was going down below.

The Nashville youth got back to their punk assault after the generators were attended to and the fury somehow was released at an even higher level with singer Jemina Pearl Abegg (bottom photo) writhing around the stage like a young girl who had far too much evil inside her that needed to get out. She humped the monitors, rolled around the stage, screamed and yelled as her band jumped around her.

She and her band exemplified the power and beauty and energy of punk rock and they did it in front of two legends, J Mascis and Thurston Moore (pictured at the top), who were not about to be shown up by anyone half their age.

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Guest blogger Tom Brosseau tries to write a short story every day. He’s playing the Largo on March 20 with David Garza.

I took a drive. I stayed on Lavaca. There were some folks gathered around an ice cream stand. That’s something I haven’t had in a while. I pulled into the lot. I waited in line. I was far from downtown, but still close to the music. I ordered a Neapolitan. I made friends with a couple students from the university. The girl had a red nose from being in the sun and the guy was wearing a Texas Longhorns shirt. They were fans of Saul Williams.

I played a CD somebody made for me. “These are bands I think you’ll love!” The first song was by Ana Egge. I took Martin Luther King Boulevard to Lamar, which brought me past Duncan Park. The grass is starting to turn green, most of the trees are bare, but it sure feels like summertime. I don’t have any set direction.

I ran the AC on low. The sunroof was open. I learned a trick — if you open the sunroof and roll down one of the back windows, it pulls air into the car. I have not removed my sunglasses since I arrived. I have crossed the train tracks. I feel like I am in another state. The scenery couldn’t be prettier. I am at Town Lake Metropolitan Park.

I bought a postcard. The front is a picture of Will Rogers, Oklahoma’s favorite son, sitting on a bench, smiling, holding a rope. He was a skilled roper, skilled enough to be in the Guinness Book of World Records. Will had Cherokee heritage. He died in a plane crash in Alaska. I have not addressed the postcard.

I have seen so many of the Yaris cars, all of them fuel-efficient Toyotas. At the 2007 SXSW, I had my picture taken with one of the gals from Yaris. She was very photogenic. She had a T-shirt that said “Ask Yaris.” She gave me a book, “Perfect From Now On” by John Sellers.

I drove by the house where writer O. Henry (William Sydney Porter) used to live, which is now a museum. It’s pretty plain looking, really, a little Queen Anne with the shutters closed. It looks a little lonesome. There’s a black lamp post in the front yard. One of my favorite O. Henry quotes is “Hospitality in the prairie country is not limited. Even if your enemy passes your way, you must feed him before you shoot him.”

I stopped into Waterloo records. I wanted to know if they had any T-shirts. I bought one. I also bought a white book tote. I found the new Film School record, “Hideout.” If I had my choice, I would play like Film School. I don’t, though, and there’s only one Film School.

Mary sent me a text: r u hungry? wan 2 gt sum food? Mony V. gave me a few recommendations. I met Mary at Woodlands.

“Jones, over here,” I waved.
“I made it!” she said. “My feet!”
“Lotta walking, huh?”
“You betcha! I had to buy Band-Aids for the blisters. I’m not complaining, though! It just feels good to sit down.”
“I was looking at the menu. The special is the pan-seared halibut.”

The waitress came over with some water, buns and butter.

“What can I start you off with?” she asked.
“I’ll have a Topo Chico,” I said.
“I’ll have a white wine,” Mary said.

It is dark. I’ve not packed for Los Angeles.

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Wale (pronounced wah-lay), Kid Cudi and Blue Scholars, a set of performers all inspired by Kanye West in one way or another, were the highlights of SXSW and a sign that hip-hop is becoming a stronger force at  the festival. More than a little credit for that upswing goes to Matt Sonzala, SXSW’s new hip-hop programmer, who told me that this year had more acts than ever.

Too bad that enthusiasm didn’t extend to GZA’s show. The legendary Wu-Tang Clan member gave a nostalgic performance at Stubb’s Bar-B-Que on Saturday night that could be best described as tepid, with the exception of cuts he performed from his classic “Liquid Swords” album. The Wu-Tang faithful were there en masse, with raised “W” handsigns everywhere as GZA performed songs that begged participation from the entire Wu entourage.  Based on past experiences of seeing the nine-man outfit perform together, GZA desperately needed his crew to lift his performance off the ground.
It didn’t help that GZA was preceded by the fresher and more nimble Wale, name-checked in Ann Power’s review (read here). The D.C.-based rapper known for including the rapid bongo-beats of Washington-area go-go music recently signed to Interscope Records via Mark Ronson’s label (another Ronson signee: a little English gal named Amy Winehouse). Wale encouraged his pal Cudi to perform a song. Cudi mouthed to him, “I don’t know this song,” so Wale, kind soul that he is, let him do a quick solo number (pictured above).

Wale’s rhyme style reflects West and Lupe Fiasco. His thought-provoking, fashion-conscious lyrics contain a little bit of glitz but are grounded in his gritty roots. After bolting ontstage and performing his Internet-hyped song “Nike Boots,” he greeted the Austin audience: “I just want y’all to know, I didn’t vote for George Bush.” Um, did anyone really think otherwise?

But the festival’s biggest surprise was the Blue Scholars, a Seattle group making its first SXSW appearance. They’ve been the toast of Seattle’s burgeoning hip-hop scene for the last few years, and for good reason.  Their politically conscious lyricism, delivered smoothly and eloquently by Geologic, features political protesters and soldiers returning home from war.  The group recalls the early days of hip-hop with one DJ and one MC. Check them out for yourself here.

– post and photo by Camilo Smith

[The post-South by Southwest tsunami of bands is headed toward Los Angeles, beginning tonight. Here are quick first impressions of albums from two of them — and, really, wouldn’t we all want to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day with a guy named Rocky O’Reilly?]

Neon Neon, “Stainless Style” (Tuesday, Lex Records): Out of the brine of this era’s dancefloor vacuousness comes … an electro concept album? Sleek disco, hip-hop lite, fuzzy guitar pop — this collaboration between Super Furry Animals main man Gruff Rhys and L.A. electronic guru Boom Bip has a little bit of everything, including a story line: The album traces the life of auto magnate and hard-partyer John DeLorean. “Stainless Style” is more than just a vehicle for a single or two. Nice.

Oppenheimer, “Take the Whole Midrange and Boost It” (June 3, Bar/None Records): The sophomore release from Belfast, Northern Ireland, duo Shaun Robinson and Rocky O’Reilly walks a tightrope — to one side bone-rattling squalor, to the other primary-colored pop. Subtract the fuzz, and the twee-pop nation would have another happy citizen. With it (and with guest touches like vocals by Matt Caughtran of L.A. punks the Bronx on “The Never Never”), the album has bite to go along with its catchy title.

||| Live: Neon Neon and Oppenheimer (along with Jim Noir and others) play tonight at the Viper Room. Neon Neon also makes a 6 p.m. appearance at Amoeba Music.

More highlights for Monday, March 17

Explosions in the Sky rock the Wiltern tonight. … Joe Lean and the Jing Jang Jong join the bill for Voxhaul Broadcast’s Spaceland residency. … Jason Collett, who has another winner with his new album, “Here’s to Being Here,” headlines the Troubadour. … At the Roxy, it’s the tongue-twisting Dan Le Sac Vs. Scroobius Pip, but far more interesting are the Fall-channeling supporting band These New Puritans. … The Chapin Sisters‘ residency at the Echo features the album-release show for local quintet the Billionaires, whose “Really Real for Forever” (out April 1) offers nifty slices of boy-girl pop.

– Kevin Bronson

Here’s the video for These New Puritans’ single, “Elvis” (album out Tuesday on Domino):

Multi-talented guest blogger Santi White, a.k.a. Santogold, left her job in A&R at Epic Records to produce and write Res‘ 2001 album, “How I Do.” Watch the video for Santi’s single “L.E.S. Artistes” here.

Today, I had back-to-back interviews for the first four hours of my day. The best of which was with my friend Mariel at a pond with turtles in it, the not worst but most eventful being with a guy from Holland who asked me a question that started out with, “Well, since you’re black, most people would probably expect that you grew up poor in the lower class, listening to gangster rap.” Hmmmmm …

The day got fun, though, around 6 p.m., when it was time for my show at the Levi’s/FADER Fort. That show was grrrrreeaaat!! All my friends were there, and its always such a treat to look out and see all of them having fun and moving to my songs like they haven’t heard them a thousand times already. The audience was made up of true music fans who were there to party. They were dancing and singing along from the moment I walked onstage. It makes it so much easier when the crowd is there to have a good time. It’s like a give-and-take — we feed off each other’s energy. I don’t think of myself as an entertainer or a performer with great showmanship. I just like to sing my songs to people who want to hear them. And when its fun, its FUN, and the songs physically come to life. When it’s not, well, I try to fake it the best I can. But I’ve always been a really bad liar.

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Guest blogger Tom Brosseau’s 2007 album, “Grand Forks,” revolves around the area’s 1997 flood. Watch him here perform one of the album’s best tracks, “Here Comes the Water.”

My friend Chris Lindgren called. He lives in Denver now. I first began playing music at his club, the Westward Ho. The Ho was an entertainment complex, really the only one of its kind. They had comedy, sports and music, even conferences — Ronald Reagan spoke at the Westward Ho. I saw Richard Buckner, Bo Diddley, Vic Chestnutt and Mitch Hedberg. Mitch and Chris were friends. Chris tour-managed Mitch Hedberg.

“Is this a travel day,” he asked.
“No. I’m already here.”
“There’s a hotel, the Driskill. When Mitch would come in and do Austin we’d stay there. Stop in and have a drink for him.”
“Maybe I will.”
“It’s historical. Mitch had this joke about hanging out on 5th Street- nothing really happens on 5th Street. All the action is on 6th Street.”
“I was thinking about one of his jokes. Can you call them jokes?”
“More like one-liners. Which one?”
“‘I took a bite of Swiss cheese and missed.’”

Mary and I drove to The Mean Eyed Cat for the Mojo magazine showcase. They had a long table of BBQ, beans, coleslaw, potato salad and, at the very end, iced tea. I never drink tea. There were fresh-cut lemons. I took a few and pinched them. I had a cut on my finger and felt the sting of the juice. I emptied a packet of sugar and stirred it around. We took a seat at a picnic table. I rolled my sleeves to get some sun.

There was a dog roaming around, a Pit Bull mix. He came to my side. I tasseled his ears. I always talk to animals. “Whatcha doin’ kid?” I said. “You a good boy?” He was panting. His face was white, he had one black ear, and his body and belly was spotted. He looked up at me. His little eyelids were pink.

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Guest blogger Santi White, a.k.a. Santogold, used to front Stiffed, a ska-punk band.

Really, I’m not much of a blogger. I made a weak attempt at writing one last night at 2 a.m. but no haps. I was too tired to make any of the events of my day sound fun or interesting, when the truth was that I had worked my butt off and was beat.

Not that none of it was fun or interesting. It was. But obviously not that great cuz I don’t have jack to say about it! But here’s a recap anyway.

I did too many things in one day, so many that it seemed like three days wrapped into one. So I wore three different outfits to go with the illusion. I did a photoshoot for Converse, had smoothies for an interview called Drinks With Blender (for the magazine), caught my boyfriend’s show, then had a show of my own at the Mad Decent/I Heart Comix showcase. For this show, I wore my favorite outfit of the day: a fluorescent pink one-piece jumpsuit with a boats and palm trees print that said Phuket all over it. The show was on the roof of a garage, I think. It was really sunny and the crowd was AMAZING! I loved them!

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One of the best ways to enjoy SXSW is to roam, talk to locals and only use your handwritten schedule as a rough draft. Perfect example of this theory happened Saturday at the Filter BBQ. I went there to see Sea Wolf, who were excellent and packed the Cedar Street courtyard. I had planned on skipping the headliner, Kate Nash, until it was announced that Billy Bragg would accompany her for a few songs. So, of course, I stayed and found myself in a very nice conversation with the local anchor of the Austin NBC affiliate, Michelle Valles, and her producer, Haley Cihock, who persuaded me to drop all of my plans for later in the night and see Carolyn Wonderland at Antone’s.

I explained that I really wanted to see my girlfriends the Donnas at Emo’s, to which Valles took her sunglasses off and said, “Tony, forget about all those little bands down there on 6th street. Carolyn is Janis Joplin, only better.” And sure enough, at midnight, there I was standing feet away from Ms. Wonderland, at Antone’s, and after the first tune in which she shredded all over the lap steel, I smiled at Ms. Valles, who was completely and utterly correct. Carolyn Wonderland is the real deal. She’s an amazing guitar player. She whistled a solo. She even played the trumpet! And damn, can she sing.

If Jack White is looking to partner up with another veteran female singer, the same way he backed and produced Loretta Lynn so marvelously, he should beeline it to Austin and team up with Carolyn Wonderland. She is the perfect match for him — she plays real blues, sings like someone from a different time, and she’s a ridiculously talented musician who has recorded 20 albums and yet, she’s this local treasure who remains virtually unknown.

Video and more pictures after the jump.

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