03.17.2001 - Day Overview
Sally Timms, Rico Bell and the Snakehandlers, The Blacks, The Waco Brothers, Split Lip
Rayfield, Alejandro Escovedo, Ryan Adams
Saturday night is traditionally the big
night of South By Southwest. Although the
festival doesn't officially end until Sunday, most of the out-of-towners head back out of
town Sunday morning. Therefore, if you can
only make one night of South By Southwest, Saturday is the pick of the litter. The Saturday destination for my Kansas houseguests
and me: Bloodshot Records' showcase at
Waterloo Brewing Company.
The Bloodshot Records shows are always a
heap of fun. Their free shows at Yard Dog
Gallery feature free food and free beer to go along with the hoe-down feel of the daytime
decadence that always seems to ensue in that back alley.
I was counting on this fun to carry on over to their Saturday night
showcase. I was not disappointed.
The evening began with Sally
Timms, formerly of Mekon; current solo artist with
a new album called Cowboy Sally's Twilight Laments. She was a fantastic opening act for the showcase. She chastised Chris, her acoustic guitarist, for
being a drunkard. She poked fun at the
audience. She called Dolly Parton "a big
ole lesbian". She cursed like a sailor,
referring to one of her songs as "fucking fantastic". She told of her previous day's meeting with Ike
Turner ("He was actually very sweet, but quite lecherous."). But most importantly, she sang. She sang tracks from her new album, including
"Dreaming Cowboy", and older songs, but no new ones. New ones, Sally said, were "a waste of
fucking time". Her set closed with a
hauntingly slow version of "Cry, Cry, Cry."
In all, Sally's set made me feel like slapping everyone who didn't arrive
early enough to catch her performance.
While awaiting the next act, I was
thrilled to hear The Spectacular Sadness of Rex Hobart and the Misery Boys, their
most recent album, playing over the P.A. It
was a nice taste of the Midwest that I hope didn't escape the ears of those in attendance.
Rico Bell and the
Snakehandlers were up next. Another
former Mekon, Rico Bell was a handsome
man with creative facial hair, sparkly bracelets, and a fancy cowboy shirt. He played guitar and accordion (very in keeping
with his apparent Hispanic heritage, but downright confusing when you factor in the
English accent). He and his band (featuring
James of Red Meat on drums) played a 9-song set that included a
Jon Langford song called "Working Class Hero" (Jon was also a Mekon,
plus he played guitar and danced during Sally Timms' set, and
also later appeared with the Waco Brothers).
Perhaps the most eccentric band of the
night, The Blacks took the stage after Rico Bell. Hailing from Chicago (although they said
Hollywood...tricksters), The Blacks are a jazz/cabaret
influenced "country" three-piece fronted by guitarist Danny Black (who dresses
kind of like a snake-oil salesman) and his love, Gina, a six-foot stand up bass-playing
blond. Rounding out the band is drummer James
who seems to have stepped straight out of 1978. Their
appearance mirrors their sound; an amalgam of sounds culled from years of Louis
Armstrong and Hank Williams records, with a dash
of the Eagles tossed in for good measure.
Their show was like a carnival log ride,
lulling the crowd into a false sense of security, then tossing them over the edge when
they least expected it. Gina bummed a beer
from a man in the front row. James kept taking
breaks in between songs to take pictures of the audience with his 110 camera. When I spoke
to him later, he said, "People don't take me seriously as a photographer because I
use a 110, but I am. I'm a serious
photographer." After the show, my good
friend Bro told me that James had said that this was to be the last tour. Did he mean for him or for the band? I have yet to find out, but either way, we lose.
The Waco Brothers
followed The Blacks. They
were easily the oldest band of the evening, but they put us whippersnappers to shame with
their energetic set filled with jumps and high kicks.
They were dressed in their best Mexican flea market shirts, complete with sparkles,
horses, pot leaves and guns. Girls in the
front row spent the Waco's set clamoring to touch Jon Langford
(remember him?) and Deano. Someone bought
them shots (which all of them but bassist Tracey Dear took...Tracey had come to the show
packing his own flask).
The Waco Brothers
have five albums and a 7-inch available through the Bloodshot Records website, and they
sampled them all in the spectacular train wreck of a country-rock show. By the time they played "Do You Think About
Me", I had to sit down.
The Waco Brothers
left some pretty big proverbial shoes to fill, but Wichita, Kansas-based Split
Lip Rayfield filled them to capacity. Some
of you may recall the days of Scroat Belly, a meth and whiskey
fueled psychotic romp across the Kansas prairie, and will be thrilled to know that the
all-acoustic Split Lip Rayfield have hopped that terrace, but
haven't lost a lick of speed (no pun intended).
With three albums-worth of material, plus
the incomparable songwriting skills of Wayne Gottstine and Kirk Rundstrom, these guys are
never at a loss for material. They played
songs from the new album (Never Make It Home) and their other records, plus they
had two stage divers (who knows where the hell that came from). James, drummer from The Blacks,
headbanged to every song. And when the dust
finally cleared, I had bassist Jeff Eaton's U-Haul receipt in my hot little hand (don't
ask...but Jeff, if you need it, I have said receipt in my possession).
The closing act was Alejandro
Escovedo, winner of the biggest band award. His
nine-member group was very in keeping with the spirit of his latest opus of an album
(called Man Under the Influence, it will be available to us commoners on the 24th
of April). Alejandro's work proves that Rex
Hobart and the Misery Boys haven't cornered the market on heartache in the
Bloodshot stable. His music is airy and full
of despair one minute, harkening the Stooges the next (after
all, the man was in the Nuns and Rank and File). Unfortunately for me, I missed almost all of
Alejandro's set. But the song I did see him
perform was a ghostly rich ballad called "Rosalie," for which he was joined by Ryan
Adams (known for his work with Whiskeytown). It was romantic and beautiful (and not just
because Ryan Adams was up there).
And although I missed most of Alejandro live that night, I can always put on his
live album More Miles Than Money to relive the experience (and it is an
experience) that is Alejandro Escovedo live and in person.
So let's review what we've learned from
my experiences at SXSW '01: Bartenders will
only serve you Lone Stars if you see at least one Spiders song,
be sure to bone up on sci-fi authors before watching Bloodhag,
if you drink too many beers with the brother of a local rock star you'll miss Pong,
sometimes even being a famous filmmaker won't get you in to see Zeke,
drinking too much free beer in the middle of the day makes it hard to go to work, and
twenty dollars is a small price to pay for an evening of country-rock mayhem. Oh yeah...and also that you should take a taxi
instead of trying to drive in Austin during South By Southwest. Class dismissed.
Cara Hollandsworth
