Our bodies, our selves: Black Swan and 127 Hours

Given the slate of films generating awards season buzz – True Grit, Rabbit Hole, Blue Valentine – it’s shaping up to be quite the winter of our discontent. Perhaps nowhere is this more apparent than Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, both in its award-baiting allure and its dark restlessness.

Here Natalie Portman plays Nina, a New York City ballerina intent on dancing the lead role in a new version of "Swan Lake." When the company’s one-time darling, Beth (Winona Ryder), is ousted by the director, Thomas (a regal, intimidating Vincent Cassel), an opening is created for Nina to become the ballet’s new star. However, Thomas is insistent that he’s unsure whether the fragile, severe Nina can believably dance both the role of the white swan and the black swan, and his posturing begins to prey on Nina’s greatest psychological fears.

Under the suffocating presence of her mother (Barbara Hershey), a former-ballerina who sacrificed her career for motherhood, Nina lives a sterile focused life committed only to dancing and perfection. Her mother forcibly dotes, dressing and grooming her and watching her every move while she’s in the house. Outside the house, Nina has few, if any, friends. And with the arrival of Lily (Mila Kunis), the company’s newest dancer, Nina is uncertain whether she’s made a friend or enemy.

What unfolds is a tug-of-war between reality and delusion – we’re often uncertain whether what we’re seeing is really happening, or merely a momentary hallucination or dream concocted by Nina’s fractured psyche. Is everyone out to get her? Or is this simply what she’s convinced herself? In the struggle between black and white, it’s the grey areas that make this film most interesting.

Ultimately, Black Swan may be a story of unadulterated self-sacrifice, though it chooses to trade in moments of horror (sharp objects make a couple of appearances). Where Aronofsky's The Wrestler was a film with heart, Black Swan is motivated by selfish, garish means. If Mickey Rourke’s Randy was a character full of faults and regrets, he was also filled with tenderness and humanity. Those qualities are all seemingly absent from Portman’s Nina, and her struggle is between perfectionism and sanity. It's redemption and failure versus sacrifice and success.

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Seeing the trailers for Portman's and Kunis's extremely similar forthcoming romantic comedies, one wonders if the ladies needed a laughable escape from the intensity of Black Swan. (Of course, even if that may be true, it doesn't necessarily make it okay.)

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If there’s a film deserving of the “tour de force” label, it would be 127 Hours. Set in the beautiful boulder-filled landscape of eastern Utah, the film almost wholly belongs to James Franco (playing Aron Ralston) and a rock. The true story of one man’s survival by amputating his own arm after getting it caught between a fallen boulder and the side of a canyon, one goes into 127 Hours merely to watch the inevitable unfold.

Shortly after setting out for a weekend of canyoneering, and after an encounter with two 20-something adventurers (Amber Tamblyn and Kate Mara), Aron finds himself falling and quickly pinned inside a narrow inlet. He spends the next five days subsisting on the little food and water he has with him and reflecting on the events that have brought him here. Other characters are briefly brought into the picture through flashbacks and images replayed on Aron’s camcorder, but the show belongs to Franco.

Like other one-man pictures (most recently Sam Rockwell in Moon), the burden rests on the lone actor’s shoulders to carry the film, and under Danny Boyle’s (Trainspotting, Slumdog Millionaire) direction Franco manages to coax both sympathy and amusement from the audience. It may not be an “entertaining” film (mainly due to the time spent biting one’s lip in anticipation of the deed that must be done), but it’s interesting to watch Franco work as an actor in such literally tight constraints.

Best Songs of 2010

Believe it or not, it was a pretty triumphant year for indie rock and hip hop. And while music writers are currently wrapped up in analyzing Kanye's twitter feed and attempting to justify their love for Vampire Weekend's "Contra," here, for your listening pleasure, is a playlist of some of the best songs released in 2010.

New Politics - Yeah Yeah Yeah
Young The Giant - My Body
The Black Keys - Everlasting Light
Arcade Fire - We Used To Wait
The Roots - Now Or Never
Cee Lo Green - F*** You
Mumford & Sons - Little Lion Man
Freelance Whales - Generator Second Floor
Best Coast - When I'm With You
The National - Afraid of Everyone
Beach House - Zebra
Neon Indian - Deadbeat Summer
LCD Soundsystem - All I Want
Dan Black - Symphonies
Yeasayer - ONE
Delorean - Real Love
Caribou - Odessa
Kanye West + Pusha T - Runaway
Robyn (A+D Mashup) - Dancing Since U Been Gone
Big Boi - Shutterbugg

Yeah Yeah Yeah by New Politics by Iamjoshuamdl

My Body by youngthegiant

01 - Everlasting Light by naoalinhados5

Arcade Fire - We Used To Wait by MiscMusic

The Roots - Now Or Never by Rock the house

Mumford & Sons - Little Lion Man by Stayloose

Generator ^ Second Floor by blackbirdflyy

When I'm With You by Oohbrilliant

The National - Afraid of Everyone by Pablo Coss

Beach House - Zebra (UK Radio Edit) by subpop

Deadbeat Summer by Neon Indian

LCD Soundsystem - All I Want by Ragged Words

Dan Black - Symphonies by Paper Trail

Yeasayer - ONE by tut

Delorean - Real Love by DJYabis

Odessa - Caribou by olyspirit

Big Boi - Shutterbugg by Rawkast

Secret's Out

According to this NPR story, it's been proposed that the person behind WikiLeaks may have carried confidential information out on a CD labeled as a Lady Gaga album.

One can only assume that if anyone saw him, the conversation went something like this:
Observer: "Hey, what's that?"
WikiLeaker: "Oh, just a Lady Gaga CD."
Observer: "Uh, right. I'm not asking, and you're not telling."

Electioneering

It's interesting to step back for a minute and think about what holding a government position actually is -- a job.

Which makes campaign season feel like a really strange job interview process.

Particularly this campaign season all we've heard is, "Government is broken" ; "We need less government." Can you imagine applying for any other job in that way? Like, "This company is broken. We need less of this company... Also, I'd like to work at this company... Here's my resume. As you can see, I'm completely unqualified. I have absolutely none of the skills required to work at this company. Which means I'm the only one who can turn this company around!"

Saying something like, "you've got to be an idiot to get into politics" used to be hyperbole. Now it seems it's an actual requirement.

ACL 2010: Saturday

On a very bright and beautiful Saturday morning buses of music lovers barreled toward Zilker Park for the Austin City Limits festival. The day promised great music, glorious weather, and just a few things you might have to see to believe. In the bus seat next to me a hairy-legged hipster attempted to attach a flask to her inner thigh using scotch tape.

At 12:30 the fest was already starting to heat up with Grace Potter And The Nocturnals playing “Hot Summer Night.” Potter, wearing a very short gold sequined dress, took time to comment on her surroundings, saying, “This stage is a lot higher than I thought it would be.” But neither her dress’s length nor her stiletto heels could keep her from rocking out – jumping and headbanging like it was ’94. She thrashed through her set, playing a wooden upright organ, and acoustic and electric guitars, finally ditching her heels and encouraging the crowd to sing along with “Paris (Ooh La La)” and “Medicine.”

01 Paris (Ooh La La) by GPN

Across the park, Bear In Heaven churned out a brand of gauzy Brooklyn guitar rock, straight out of the Grizzly Bear/Dirty Projectors indie garage band catalogue. The band played “Lovesick Teenagers” with the lead singer’s vocals, occasionally resembling Billy Corgan’s. The lead singer enthused, “I hope you fall in love, get married, and have children...today,” with a sort of breezy surfer dude emphasis.

At 2:30 on the main stage, New Jersey’s Gaslight Anthem took a moment to acknowledge their New Jersey-ness before revving into a blistering set of songs including the title tracks of their most recent albums “’59 Sound” and “American Slang.” Lead vocalist Brian Fallon seemed delighted, and also seemed just too sincere to have that many tattoos. Somewhere in the crowd a man emerged dressed from head to toe as a leprechaun.

Back in the middle of the park, clad in vests and ties, noveau Mo-town band Mayer Hawthorne And The County classed up the place doing songs from the Strange Arrangement album, and a cover of The Doobie Brothers’ “What A Fool Believes.” Hawthorne told an anecdote about being asked for an autograph by a man who mistook him for Michael Buble, leading in to the song “Maybe so, maybe no.” In the song’s denouement, Hawthorne mixed in Snoop’s “Beautiful” – something one couldn’t really imagine Michael Buble doing.

At 4:40, UK electro-rocker Dan Black invited the crowd to get weird, and he himself wasted no time in doing so. Wearing white pants, a black and white striped shirt, and with his face painted with red and white stripes, Black and his guitarist worked through “U Me,” “Alone,” and “Symphonies.” At the end two dudes in the crowd exchanged glances and commented, “He was good... but he was weird.”

With James Murphy hinting that his This Is Happening album may be his last, it gave the edge to LCD Soundsystem in the 6pm match-up between them and Monsters Of Folk. Joined by Black Keys’ drummer Patrick Carney (here playing guitar) and a couple other folks, Murphy built the set slowly, with mid-tempo numbers like “Drunk Girls” building into faster numbers like “All I Want” and “I Can Change,” as a disco ball took the place of the setting sun. When Murphy wrapped the set with “Home,” and hundreds of Muse fans began to pour in, home seemed like the perfect place to be.

LCD Soundsystem - All I Want by Ragged Words

Last Action Hero: MacGruber

Toward the beginning of MacGruber, an absolutely ridiculous theme song plays, seeming to say: “Do you even believe we’re making this a movie?!” Only minutes before, a very meaty Val Kilmer (whose character’s name is something of a joke I’ll refrain from telling) has put a plan into action, and there’s only one man who can stop him. That man is MacGruber (Will Forte), a heavily decorated ex-military officer (and former UTEP basketball player) who has been hiding out in New Mexico. With his nemesis looking to strike again, MacGruber is asked to come out of hiding to stop him.

Recruiting a team to aid his cause (his second team, after the first meets with an unfortunate end), MacGruber creates his battle plans on the fly, lacking in preparation what he makes up for in, um...surprise? With the willing assistance of Vicki St. Elmo (Kristen Wiig) and Lt. Dixon Piper (Ryan Phillippe), the incredibly unstable MacGruber does everything he can (including making some rather oft-putting pleas) in hopes of avenging the killer of his late bride (Maya Rudolph).

While it earnestly refrains from being a “spoof” movie, MacGruber is nonetheless laced with satire. It can’t help it; it’s in its DNA. Born from a series of sketches on Saturday Night Live, shorts which always end in an explosion, the MacGruber character (created as a send up of MacGyver) is a bumbling nit-wit who can never diffuse the bomb in time. But on the big screen, he’s much more than that.

Describing the character to New York Magazine, director Jorma Taccone explained MacGruber as “super-narcissistic, a little bit homophobic, a little racist, a little sexist.” And while he is all those things, the more interesting thing about the MacGruber character is that he fits the classic idea of an action hero – a renegade player who can’t conform or fit into normal society, who embraces unorthodox methods and refuses to play by the rules. But, unlike a John McClane-type, MacGruber doesn’t play by society’s rules not because he’s a bemused tough guy, but because he’s an idiot. It’s likely he’s not even aware of what society’s rules are.

The inversion of this notion of the action hero obfuscates the idea that MacGruber is a “hero” at all. In a scene where MacGruber and Lt. Piper are having a couple of beers, MacGruber unwittingly incriminates himself while revealing his history with his now-nemesis. It’s this moment (and many, many others) where you wonder if you should really be rooting for this guy, knowing you probably shouldn’t, but still morbidly curious to see what he’s going to do next.

It’s Will Forte’s genuine weirdness and commitment to his character that sustain MacGruber. Unlike, say, Austin Powers, where the audience is being winked at and signaled when to laugh, here laughs come from the uncomfortable and awkward moments. Wiig is at her best when keeping her character reserved, only occasionally slipping into the frenetic pace she employs in the SNL “MacGruber” sketches.

MacGruber more closely resembles Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s Team America, than any other SNL-based offering. The cheesy PG-13 shtick of the likes of A Night At the Roxbury is here replaced by explosions, throat ripping, and a fascination with human reproductive organs. Vulgar, but not necessarily offensive, MacGruber may be more brilliant than it initially lets on. And it will definitely make you think twice about celery.

Inside ACL: Alejandro Escovedo

Making his fourth appearance on Austin City Limits, Alejandro Escovedo took the stage Friday night in a sleek grey vest, accompanied by his band, the Sensitive Boys, and back-up vocalists, sparkling in black sequins. Preparing for the release of his tenth album, Street Songs of Love, due June 29, Escovedo devoted much of the set to the new record.

Kicking things off with the energetic “Always A Friend,” from his Real Animal release, Escovedo was all smiles. While he’d joked during afternoon rehearsal, “This is like so many shows we’ve played in the past; where no one claps,” now with the lights and cameras in place and a crowded house, the audience was happy to applaud.

David Pulkingham laid into a heavy guitar on “This Bed is Getting Crowded,” and Escovedo introduced the guitarist, elaborating that he was also the force responsible for bringing “Anchor,” the next new song, to life. After trading riffs with Pulkingham, Escovedo explained how the new album was built – piece by piece during a two-month residency at Austin’s Continental Club. This segued into the titular “Street Songs,” an ode to the Club’s South Congress neighborhood.

Since 1980 Escovedo has called Austin home, and, introducing “Sister Lost Soul,” he recalled his days in South Austin where he met Stephen Bruton (first known to him as a “handsome jogger”), who would go on to produce albums for Escovedo, and who passed away last year. Escovedo dedicated the song to him, summoning a gentle organ and choir-like back-up vocals. After another slower number, “Down in the Bowery,” written for his teen son, Escovedo exclaimed, “Let’s get noisy again,” and they did with “Chelsea Hotel ’78.” While they’d played a version of this during afternoon rehearsal, here they pulled out the stops, allowing for some noisy guitar shredding.

During rehearsal one of the backing vocalists had pulled pairs of maracas from a backpack, and they now made an appearance on “Undesired.” Bringing out another new song, a jazzy piano kicked off “Faith” (which features Bruce Springsteen on the record) and inspired some dancing in the crowd. Without stopping the band plunged into “Real Animal” as if it were “Great Balls of Fire” before ultimately easing into the mellow organ-laced “After the Meteor Showers.”

While the set had had an ebb and flow of fast-paced numbers and more mellow tunes, it was at the end, anticipating a revision of the cello-tinged “Tula” that Escovedo and his band got down to some serious guitar business, pounding out a loud and tight rendition of “Everybody Loves Me.” In front of a home crowd, it certainly felt that way.

What happens in Bologna

The thing nobody tells you about Europe is that occasionally there are Icelandic volcanoes. Taking my first trip to France and Italy, this was probably the thing I was least prepared for. Well, that and the heavy volume of cheese I would be required to consume.

Traveling to two cosmetics conferences, my mom and I stopped in Paris before winding up in Bologna, Italy.

Bologna is endearingly referred to in Italy as “La Grassa” or “The Fat One.” While it is regarded as Italy’s gastronomic center, and a destination for aspiring cooking school attendees, there’s really not much else there. The tourism brochure should really read “Bologna: Come for dinner, stay for dessert.”

That’s not to say that Bologna is without its share of ancient churches. It is, after all, an old city in Europe – those are required. And indeed, Michaelangelo painted the interior of Bologna’s Santo Domingo in 1494 – and then he probably had a ham sandwich and took off because there’s nothing to do in Bologna.

Bologna does of course lend its name to the signature meat, which helps explain why I spent most of the trip humming the Oscar Meyer wiener song. But the other thing that Bologna may be known for is its two towers. Situated near the center of the city, both were constructed when two powerful families decided to have a competition to see who could build the tallest tower. (And because, I’m assuming, the game show “Family Feud” had not yet been invented.) This ultimately resulted in one lithe tall tower and one squat tower, which, when it started to lean, ultimately ended the competition. The lithe tall tower is still open today, and with its promises of the best views in Bologna, it seemed enticing.

297 small, extremely narrow, and rather rickety steps later, the view was rather nice. It was the thought of having to travel back down in the darkened spiraling sections that caused my brief cold sweats. But if my sweats were nerve-induced, a rather hairy middle-aged man was sweating right behind me, running up and down the steps of the tower like he was training for some step-climbing competition or tower triathlon. We reached a landing and he stopped to change clothes before completing another round. Like I said, there’s really nothing to do in Bologna.

To amuse themselves the townspeople gather in the central’s Piazza Maggoire and dance. Let me be clear, I am not an expert on Italian music, or Italian dancing, but I’m not sure I experienced either in the time I spent in the Piazza. In the main section, older folks seemed to be dancing an Irish jig, a grown woman with chicken puppets strapped to her feet played an accordion, and somewhere in the distance a man played an ocarina. Well, he played “Let It Be” on an ocarina. If he’d followed that with “Can You Feel The Love Tonight,” I would have sworn I was in a mall.

Inside ACL: Cash & Carlile

If Rosanne Cash seemed at home in front of a crowd Tuesday night in the Austin City Limits studio, it was likely because she was making her seventh appearance on the historic stage. Kicking things off with the jazzy/bluesy “I’m Movin’ On” from her latest album “The List,” Cash explained the album’s title, a reference to a list of 100 essential country songs given to her by her father, Johnny Cash, when she was 18. Taking on 12 of these songs for the album, Cash performed the classic “Miss the Mississippi and You” and was joined by her husband, John Leventhal on the beautiful “Sea of Heartbreak.” With help from a kickin’ electric organ, Cash turned out a rocking version of the Harlan Howard song “Heartaches by the Number.”

Taking a second to catch her breath, Cash thanked her friend Kathy for lending her the earrings she was wearing. A moment later, realizing her guitar strap had gone missing, a member of the crowd called out, “Does Kathy have one?” Cash called back, “If she does, it doesn’t say ‘Cash’ on it. And if she does, that’s gonna be weird.” With the guitar strap located and reattached, Cash simply introduced the next song saying, “There is no American roots music without ‘Long Black Veil’.” Wrapping up the portion of the set focused on “The List,” Cash took on the last track from the album, a sincere Carter family hymn, “Bury Me Under the Weeping Willow.”

Changing gears with a couple of songs from “Black Cadillac,” Cash’s voice had a spiciness in it on “Burn Down This Town.” While during rehearsal it had taken a couple of tries to get the mic levels just right for the lovely vocals on “Dreams Are Not My Home,” here the sound was just right, and set Cash and her band up to round out the evening’s set with “The Wheel.”

While Cash was wrapping her seventh Austin City Limits show, backstage Brandi Carlile was preparing for her first.

Just before the end of afternoon rehearsal, Carlile and her band had formed a semi-circle at the front of the stage, standing together and cooing a tight harmony. With the simple strumming of a ukulele and Carlile’s powerful vocals, the band opened in this way with “Oh Dear.” If it’s possible to make the Austin City Limits studio feel more intimate, Carlile did this twice, in the opening, and again in the middle of the set, when she brought the band to the front of the stage and played completely unplugged. While a boom mic captured the sound for the tape, the audience in the room had to keep quiet to hear “Dying Day,” though that didn’t stop a little foot stomping.

Kicking out some rock ‘n’ roll drums on “Dreams,” and bringing out a four-person string section for “Turpentine,” Carlile and her band built a set that managed to be both raucous and melodic. While “Before it Breaks” had been the first song played during rehearsal, the song hung nicely here in the middle of the set, allowing Carlile to stroll to the piano and talk about recording the song with Elton John. She’d emailed him one night to ask about recording with her and early the next morning he called to say yes. And when she mentioned she didn’t keep up much with new music, he sent 100 records to her house.

Before displaying her beautifully powerful vocals on “Pride and Joy,” Carlile moved to the center microphone and said that the first song she ever sang on stage was “Flat-Top Box” by Johnny Cash. If you’re going to cover a Johnny Cash song, and it’s a particularly high-profile Johnny Cash song, and you’re following Rosanne Cash, well, you better knock it out of the park. Getting the entire crowd standing and clapping to “Folsom Prison Blues,” Carlile and her band did just that – staging something of a dueling banjos scenario, the fiddler and guitarist playfully challenging each other. While the crowd was worked up, Carlile added a two-song encore, finishing with Bob Dylan’s always-apt “The Times They Are A-Changin’.”

SXSW Saturday: Cool As Ice

Walking home from seeing Liars at Antone’s Friday night, it occurred to me that the full body exhaustion caused by SXSW is really only comparable to that experienced after skiing. The caveat being that it’s usually not that cold during South By. Well, until Saturday. With high winds and temperatures in the 40s, outdoor day parties suddenly seemed far less appealing.

While a huge line of people were trying to get into the Black Keys/Broken Bells/Demolished Thoughts (some purported Thurston Moore and Andrew W.K. collaboration – what?) show at Mohawk, I slipped into the cozy confines of Red Eyed Fly for the Coffee No Pants party. While there wasn’t any coffee and plenty of people were wearing pants, I wasn’t the only one curious about the name – the lead singer of Free Energy commented on it, saying, “I’m not sure why it’s called Coffee No Pants, but I will take my pants off.” When someone whistled, he added, “Apparently you’ve seen this show before.” Their upbeat pop-y songs got plenty of people moving, most especially the singer himself, who excitedly jumped about. Inside, Avi Buffalo was much more subdued, playing Ra Ra Riot-ist sort of lo-fi indie pop, punctuating tunes with tambourine and kickdrum.

Later in the afternoon, still trying to avoid the wretched cold, I snuck into the basement of Max’s Wine Bar for the Black Iris party. With the stage set on the ground, it wasn’t possible to see the seated Best Coast, but the lead vocalist sounded similar to Emily Haines, so I imagined that’s what she looked like too. With super-catchy drums, the LA band brought out their best lazy surf tunes. But the party didn’t really start until another LA outfit, Fool’s Gold, got the entire room dancing to “Surprise Hotel.” It only escalated from there, with folks breaking out their best moves, and the band conga-ing through the audience playing the sax and banging the cowbell. If it was freezing outside, it was a sweaty indie dance party inside – which is the best kind.

With little time left for Saturday night shows, and only a few more years where I’m allowed to publicly enjoy dance music, I headed to Beauty Bar to polish off the evening with Oakland’s Wallpaper. Ricky Reed – nee Eric Frederick – was doing his best Justin Timberlake by way of Prince impression, rocking a trendy hat, hipster glasses, and gloves adorned with working lights (great for night biking). Opening with “T-Rex,” Frederick let his quirky lyrics loose, and busted out a cover of “That Girl Is Poison” that was surely enjoyed by everyone.

So, that’s it, SXSW 2010. Eugene Mirman count: 3. Most irritating drunk vagrant: that one outside Mohawk. Best t-shirt: the dude at the Tanlines show who’d written “I came to get down” on his white shirt in marker. Amount of second-hand smoke inhaled: I don’t want to think about it.

Bang Pop - Free Energy

When I'm With You - Best Coast

Surprise Hotel - Fool's Gold

T Rex - Wallpaper

SXSW Friday: Best In Show

In a quest to spend the most time possible at the Mohawk, at 1pm I went to see Scotland’s We Were Promised Jetpacks at the Onion AV Club’s party. While their song composition and lyrical style seemed to resemble Tokyo Police Club, their brand of uptempo music was most adequately summarized toward the end of the set by the lead singer who said, “We have a couple more Scottish teenage post-punk emo tunes for you.” Take that music critics. Next door at Club DeVille Nicole Atkins Featuring Future Clouds and Radar played the Brooklyn Vegan party, Atkins’s powerful voice besting her petite frame.

On the other side of I-35, folks sprawled out in the park at the French Legation. In the back tent Mayer Hawthorne brought their 60s throwback tunes replete with button-down sweaters, collared shirts, and ties. With a little bit of funk and a dash of Jamie Lidell, they rounded out their set with a bit of reggae and the chorus of Biz Markie’s “Just A Friend.” A sure way to get the crowd singing and dancing along.

At 4pm, back at the Mohawk, Everybody Was In The French Resistance was attempting to explain that they were a “concept band.” As soon as the explanation took at detour into deconstructing Kayne West’s “Gold Digger,” it was pretty unclear what the concept was. The band’s musical elements had merit, but the singer’s style and reliance on “humor” in his lyrics seemed an odd match. “In Switzerland we sang, ‘Everybody was in the French resistance – except for you,’ ” he explained. An hour later another Scotch band, the great Frightened Rabbit took the stage, introduced by Eugene Mirman. Their passionate rock was definitely worth sticking around for.

Knowing that Band Of Horses was playing the intimate Central Presbyterian Church, a night after playing a packed house at Stubb’s, I rushed up early to get a spot in a pew. This would be the ultimate SXSW coup – seeing a big band in a smaller venue with great acoustics and getting to sit for two hours. Tyler Ramsey, one of BOH’s guitarists was doing a solo set, crooning beautifully in the quiet church. As his heartfelt tunes faded, South Carolina’s Company moved to center stage. “I hear there’s another band playing after us,” the lead singer said. He winked toward the audience and the band played a great warm-up.

At 9pm the church was full and by two songs into their set, Band Of Horses’ Ben Bridwell was “sweating like a ...” well, he didn’t finish that sentence. We were in church, after all. Starting off with the title track to their forthcoming album “Infinite Arms,” the more rock-influenced sound of their new stuff turned into fan favorites, with “Ode to LRC,” “Funeral,” and the delicate “No One’s Gonna Love You.” While the crowd was happy to stay seated and very hushed throughout the performance, they were equally glad when Bridwell prodded them to stand for the closing tune, “General Specific.” With a standing audience clapping and a wonderfully jazzy piano elevating the song, it felt like being at a revival. A-men.

Quiet Little Voices - We Were ...

Maybe So, Maybe No - Mayer Haw...

Coal Digger - Everybody Was In...

The General Specific - Band of...

SXSW Thursday: The In-Crowd

If SXSW feels different this year, it may be because of the unadulterated amount of free stuff. Exclusive badge-only events have all but been pushed inside in favor of free-for-all events that are often just that. The Fader Fort, the Pure Volume House, even Rachael Ray and Perez Hilton’s parties are all free, open, and in larger venues to accommodate the masses.

That’s why Thursday night I went in search of the most exclusive party I could find – the badge-only showcase at Lustre Pearle. Outside an old house near the freeway, kids stood behind the gates trying to get a look at what was going on inside – which was mainly people participating in random hipster activities like ping pong and talking about whether their band could be as good as the Temper Trap.

Inside the back tent, London’s The Boxer Rebellion played a brand of “Hot Fuss”-era-Killers rock, their lead singer looking like Zachary Quinto from afar. The alternately flashing red and blue lights created a hallucinatory effect, like wearing old-school 3-D glasses, while the tambourine kept time to “Watermelon.” If their energy was high and their sound was good, Australia’s The Temper Trap did them one better.

Taking the stage with heartily blaring guitars, I had to check the schedule to make sure I was in the right place. While The Temper Trap’s album has an element of softness to it, their performance replaced that softness with fire, evidenced from the very first song, “Rest.” Working trough “Fader” and the brilliant “Love Lost,” by the time TTT got to their biggest hit, “Sweet Disposition,” the lead singer was really into it, and so was everyone else. The set only escalated from there, working up to a total guitar rockout before wrapping with “Science of Fear.” Could your band be as good as The Temper Trap? Probably not.

By 12:30 I’d finagled my way into the less-exclusive patio of the Mohawk and stood wondering why my intestines were shaking. With a packed house and GZA and half the Wu-Tang Clan (okay, there are a lot of people in that, so maybe a fourth of the Wu-Tang Clan), one would think that all of this bass would get absorbed before it got to where I stood in the back. I was there to see London’s The XX, the ethereal indie kid faves. The boy/girl duo, both with close-cropped dark hair and all black outfits looked nothing like I’d imagined them. Their beautifully low-key tunes dispersed into the ether, and, escaping the crowded house, I did too.

Flashing Red Light Means Go - ...

Rest - The Temper Trap

Crystalised - The xx

SXSW Wednesday: The Wackness

Walking into the dark front room of Red 7 Wednesday afternoon, the odd harmonies, curious mixing, and occasional bhangra beats of Toro y Moi filled the space. While esoteric sounds wove themselves together, they were complicated by the addition of a guitar, which Toro y Moi tried to play while still mixing, and which ultimately just created noise.

Hours later at Club DeVille, Brooklyn’s Here We Go Magic played a subdued set of dreamily forgettable rock with a sound comparable to San Francisco’s Film School. If their set left something to be desired, Australia’s The Middle East made up for it. A seven-piece band with more instruments than a pawn shop, The Middle East worked banjo, flute, guitars, drums, harmonica, accordion, and mandolin into their mellow sound. At one point the seven members were playing 10 instruments, with one guitarist also playing harmonica, the keyboardist picking up a flute in places, and the accordion player wielding a trumpet and a rain stick. The addition of whistling on the closing song, “Blood,” added in another layer to their already nuanced sound.

If I wandered into Beauty Bar under false pretenses (Sufjan Stevens was not there, it turns out), I stayed only because the eclectic combination of a dude dressed as an MC (hipster glasses, backwards cap, trendy t-shirt, ever-present microphone) and a woman in a Renaissance fair-style dress seemed to have potential. Indianapolis’s Jookabox was happy to rock out in their outfits – the Renaissance fair woman merrily banging the keyboard and a drummer pounding away in the background. While I have no idea what songs like “Glyphin’ Out” are about, they seemed to be having a good time.

Talamak - Toro Y Moi

Fangela - Here We Go Magic

Glyphin' Out - Jookabox

SXSW 2010

It is very much that time of year again -- when South by Southwest Interactive shuts down and Music starts up -- everyone's pants get a whole lot tighter and nerdy glasses make the move from essential to ironic.

Walking down 6th Street Tuesday night however, Interactive and Music blended together. Did I see a grown man in khaki slacks riding a mechanical bull? Yes, I did. Was I asked what "hip-hop" was? Yes, I was.

At 10:45 Austin's The Black and White Years played an up-tempo set at the Parish, clapping and sounding like a pop-y Yeasayer mixed with a heavy dose of Of Montreal.

Across the street at Maggie May's around midnight, DJ Mike Relm played the YouTube party -- doing real-time mixing to the integrated video projected behind him. While he mixed "Purple Haze," video clips of the Air Guitar World Championships played in synch. Relm also did a back-to-back mix of the "O face" segment of "Office Space" followed by the diner scene in "When Harry Met Sally." A high-concept climax to the set.

By 1am at the Mohawk, folks were ready to dance, even just to the random assortment of sounds DJs like to play with late at night. Sometimes, it just sounds right.

To Modern Science - The Black ...

Everytime (feat. Del The Funky...

In review -- best songs of 2009

Contrary to popular belief, Lady Gaga and Taylor Swift weren't the only ones making music in 2009. Here, in my humble opinion, are some of the year's best songs:

"No You Girls" - Franz Ferdinand

"Kiss With A Fist" - Florence & The Machine

"Heads Will Roll" - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

"No Mercy, Only Violence" - The Library

"Too Fake" - Hockey

"People Got A Lotta Nerve" - Neko Case

"Sweet Disposition" - The Temper Trap

"Dominos" - The Big Pink

"Lisztomania" - Phoenix

"Moth's Wings" - Passion Pit

"Lust For Life" - Girls

"Sunlight" - Harlem Shakes

"My Mirror Speaks" - Death Cab For Cutie

"The Calculation" - Regina Spektor

"1901" - Phoenix

"Death" - White Lies

"Meddle" - Little Boots

"Help, I'm Alive" - Metric

"Day 'N' Nite" - Kid Cudi