Things more or less go like this. Wake up, write this, deal with hangover, go to the convention centre and publish, watch some bands, drink a load of tequila, go to bed and try to eat something in the middle somewhere. The problem with this highly efficient routine is that the days have officially blended into one. Blend is a strong word, it sounds almost craft-like. The words ‘blur’ and ‘bleed’ make more sense.

I kicked the day off with the Spin party. It had a pretty solid line up and a free bar which involved some sort of vitamin drink, so things couldn’t really have been much better. I managed to catch most of the Big Pink’s set which was typically tremendous. It was a weird crowd though, probably 50% industry so no fucker looked like they were enjoying the bands until the very end, which we will get to in a minute. So yeah, the Big Pink did a good job of holding the British end up despite the hostile circumstances.

Best Coast followed with a suitably saccharine drenched set of Best Coast hits, still the crowd were unstirred. Best Coast were all right, actually, they aren’t massively my cup of tea but I don’t hate them. Given the outdoor, free drinks, humidity vibes Best Coast fit in perfectly.

After five hours of free drinks and a handful of really good bands the crowd finally kicked off for when Santigold hit the stage. Santigold, used to be Santogold. She’s fucking amazing. Remember her? Why is she not massive? She was so, so, so good. I get that she is sort of like an American MIA, but still, she is way less annoying and, still really, really good. Actually, I would say that was the best performance I’ve seen at the whole of SXSW, what with the Devo-esque band and her hot as hell, cool as fuck backing dancers. Plus she got that Spin crowd moving which was probably the greatest feat of the festival too. I’ll reiterate this one last time, why isn’t she massive?

Due to the presence of free alcohol I decided to stay at the Spin party until I was unable to leave, so I missed a whole heap of sick bands that I wanted to see, including The Men and Blood Orange. But I stand by my decision because that’s what real men do.

After Spin I headed to Richard Branson’s, aka the Virgin Mobile Live House which was more free booze and involved a transatlantic phonecall to get in. So not all that Free. There was an English pop punk band playing. They were fucking terrible. Each member of the band was trying to outdo the other, but not in any cohesive way that made sense. I watched them for about thirty seconds before I thought I’d end up hitting someone. I drank a tea based liquor, ate some pizza and listened to a DJ play some Clash and Talking Heads records, which made everything better.

At the behest of, let’s say, an ‘industry insider’ I went to the top floor of a hotel to watch Doe Peoro. Imagine if Lana Del Rey had a voice, substance and any amount of integrity and you are there. The voice was really stunning, sultry, perfectly pitched in front of a blacked out hotel bar crowd. It was a moment of sublime tranquillity in this breakneck place.

Continuing the theme of tranquillity, I somehow ended up in a Church watching Ben Howard. Not really my thing but it was going down well with the silently seated crowd, saturated with evangelical nuts who intermittently broke into celebration. It was all far too well behaved for my liking and I couldn’t find the bar. So I ran away, literally.

At the British Music Embassy I managed to catch Big Deal who were killing it with their brand of folked out sludgey indie. The duo hail from London so they are definitely ones to catch if you get a chance, totally mesmerised a packed crowd with their intimate licks. More or less Big Deal are going to be a big deal.

After that I’m not really sure what happened. There was definitely a lot of running around, but my camera ran out of battery so I can’t really be sure of what I saw, there was definitely a point where Alexa Chung was dancing about to the Drums and I’m certain I witnessed something amazing at the Sub Pop Showcase. At one point I was definitely left in charge of a small dog that seemed very scared of me. More bands, more photos and more sense tomorrow.

Words/photos:

Marcus Harris

This entry was tagged as best coast, big deal, SANTIGOLD, santogold, SXSW, sxsw12, the big pink, the drums.