SXSW 2014 (not so) Short List: G-P SXSW 2014 (not so) Short List: G-P

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Read all of Charles’s SXSW 1 line previews
SXSW 2014 (not so) Short List: A-F
SXSW 2014 (not so) Short List: G-P
SXSW 2014 (not so) Short List: Q-Z (coming soon)

This time, next week, I’ll be in Irving with my pops bolstering my stores of beer and bacon and coffee and pretending not to feel the pangs of panic course up and down my spine wondering if there will ever be a day I’m ready, really ready for the stinking soul and wet carnage of the greatest of Austin excess runs. I guess it doesn’t matter, does it? Just gotta hold your breath and throw your ass into the fire, goddamnit, and hope you remember enough to validate the week and days of lost wages. I will. Rockit.

G A L P A L S – HOLY SHIT! THE VIVAN GIRLS WEREN’T THE SHOPLIFTERS! THEY WERE THE FUCKING BANANA SPLITS!!!!

G. Love – Is he, like, legitimate now?

GRL – Um…uh…presented by Itunes.

Gabby Young and Other Animals – Opera singers be batshit.

Gang of Youths – You know what? Yeah. I can do this.

Gap Dream – The Kap’n will never make it to SXSW. This year, I avenge him.

Gardens & Villa – My girlfriend (paraphrased) tells me I’ll know fashion forward when I see something so ugly it makes me violent. The snake eats its tale.

Gary Numan – “Cars,” though I’ve heard his new record is stellar. You never listened to Tubeway Army.

Gemini Club – What? You think you’re better than the Killers?

Gezan – Always bet on the rising sun.

Ghetto Ghouls – Texas noise bunk. Remember The Exterminator.

Ghost Beach – Perez Hilton and LMFAO join forces to…no? Fuck it, then.

The Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger (Sean Lennon) – Sean Lennon. The son John loved.

The Ghost Wolves – Not as good as Reignwolf but the do have a girl so all y’all boys can get your white blues chubbies keen.

GHXST – I’ve been saying “GUHUKSSTUH” for, like, five minutes.

Giraffage – What?

Girl Pilot (Sahara Smith) – Who the fuck is Sahara Smith?

The Giving Tree Band – Man, fuck you.

Glass Animals – Go fetch.

Glass Towers – Music for commercials that don’t want to sound like commercials but don’t want to sound so much unlike commercials that the viewer feels a disconnect from the zeitgeist at hand. Tell me again why we can’t use “Beautiful Day”?

Glitches – You know, you can totally play pop music without being a hairy shitbird. Just saying.

Gloryhound – I was told we would be balls deep. When do we get there?

GNAW – OH SHIT, IT’S THE DUDE FROM KHANATE! Also, this dude Jun, who I totally know. HI, JUN!

Golden Youth – Bigger than I expected. I could see myself belting this in the shower and tears.

Good for Grapes – HULK SMASH GRAPES! MAKE DELIGHTFUL CABERNET!

Gossling – I forgot.

The Gotobeds – Throwback punk in desperate need of a better name.

Grace London – I REALLY don’t feel comfortable talking about a fourteen-year-old girl and her foot stomping prowess.

Graham Reynolds – Music for adults for real though. This dude is a composer.

The Great American Canyon Band – Creep a long folk of the husband/wife survivalist sort. Or maybe, they’re just from Maine. Either way, A-OK! (said softly, to the falcon)

A Great Big World – I can’t tell if “Everyone Is Gay” is a rally cry for sociosexual harmony or total fucking bullshit pandering fuckwittery.

Great Good Fine Ok – Of course, they’re from Brooklyn. Fuck that borough.

The Great Wilderness – I’m not sure why I find this Costa Rican take on pummel post dream pop gaze so confusing but I’m willing to learn.

Greys – Wait, do I like Greys? Yes. YES! YES I VERY MUCH HATE FUCK THE AIR I BREATHE UNTIL MY JIT BECOMES NITROGEN FUCKING LIKE GREYS! I think?

Gringo Star – I snark now, but – one day – I’ll be bummed I didn’t buy the flexi.

Gripin – Turkish Flogging Molly or more like that song you hear at the diner somewhere between closing time and sunrise.

The Griswolds – Har.

GRMLN – Yep. Rawk fuzz chump.

Growl – Rock kills kids.

The Growl (solo acoustic) – This means something to someone.

Gruff Rhys – How long have I known this band? Have I ever said the name aloud? Do I say “aloud”? I don’t. WHO ARE YOU, FAKE CHARLES?!?!?!

Guantanamo Baywatch – I think this band is pretty rad and will make a concerted effort to see them this year because fun is fucking awesome.

Gungor – Music supervisors cream their billfolds for bands like this.

Gunplay – Pew. Pew.

H. Hawkline – Baritone Pavement once the decided to be The Shitty Beatles for real.

Ha Ha Tonka – That’s some down home shit right there.

Habibi – I miss Slumber Party, like, EVERYDAY.

The Haden Triplets – Why ARE triplets less creepy than twins? And don’t say jazz.

Haerts – I’m beginning to finally feel that all of this retrofitted electric waning is going to turn into a glorious (if reasonably effete) future.

HAPPY – Psychic pop strains the Wayne Coyne greys and Japan is one hell of a drug.
Happy Jawbone Family Band – Eat a dick.

Har Mar Superstar – Legends aren’t born. They’re forged in Hanes.

The Harpoonist & The Axe Murderer – The name is eye-rolling literate fey folk nu metal shame training but the sound is harmonica blues.

Harvey Sid Fisher – Brooklyn Vegan will argue that this shticky wonders placement (on what is, primarily) a punk bill is not in the slightest bit ironic. Jerks.

Hawk & Dove – Is this the Planes Mistaken for Stars dude? Because if it is, I’m in. If it’s not, fear suck.

Heathers – Eskimo.

Hector’s Pets – I think this band’s a “thing.”

Hellbenders – Beer sweat fire rock from Brazil.

Heymoonshaker – Parisian dust howl blues like a motherfucker

High Highs – Nope.

High Tension – Dance punk became this? There’s hope for DFA yet.

Highasakite – Pretty pretty.

Hikes – Skramz folk. Believe it or not that sentiment actually means something. I hate everything.

The Hold Steady – I am typically hesitant to encourage anyone to see a well-established artist at an event that is supposed to encourage musical discovery but fuckin’ a right, you should go see The Hold Steady. Get drunk and love yourself.

Holiday Mountain – I was with them until the funk. Motherfuck a bunch of funk.

Holy Esque – I (heart) Glasgow and young men whose hearts bleed desperate and able.

Honeyblood – MORE GLASGOW! This time girls and bashing detuned garage umph.

The Hood Internet – Uh…I…whatever. Go nuts.

Hospital Ships – Bedroom weirdos play big time mental folk implosions. I mean, duh.

Hospitality – Somebody kept trying to get me to like this band. I didn’t. I don’t. On Merge.

Howie Gelb – This is important.

Humboldt – That squid’s a bitch. This is low rent Epitaph.

Humming House – Hey…HEY! HEY LUMINEERS! FUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOUUU!!!!

Hundred Visions – Party rawk. Thank gawd.

Hundred Waters – When I get a certain kind of drunk, I believe that I can speak French.

Hunter Sharpe – Get a real habit.

Hurray for the Riff Raff – oh. OH! Yeah. I think. YEAH! Pretty sure this chick Alynda totally fucking roles in a roots folk, fuck all pretty gloom sneer way. HOORAY!

HyunA – Remember that crazy cute girl from “Gangnam Style”? Yeah. This is her.

IAMSU! – OKAY! OKAY! YOURESU!

IDIOTAPE – Shit. Clearly I need to get some speed and dance party maximum Korean.

Imagine Dragons – They’re huge and no one can tell me why.

In the Valley Below – “He’s from Memphis, equally steeped in Link Wray and Phil Collins.” There just aren’t enough fucks left in my bag for you, dude.

Infinity Shred – Exactly, only not…at all. Someone bring back The Fucking Champs, already. We’ve had our fill of Trans Am.

Ingrid Michaelson – I’m a little bit jealous that Ben got an autographed copy of Lisa Loeb’s new LP.

Inner Oceans – I like this. It’s moody but uplifting. Probably boring as sin on stage but I’d buy the 7”.

INVSN – Why is Dennis Lyxzén dressing like Blixa Bargeld? Who cares. Go see this band.

Iron Reagan – Yes, Virginia. They still make Reagan references.

Ishi – I’d like to think that Ishi’s name is a coy reference to the John Murray/Jennifer Tilly vehicle ‘Moving Violations’ and so I will.
J Fernandez – Stereolab for boy somnambulists.

J Stalin – (please have a moustache…please have a moustache…please have a moustache…DAMNIT!)

Jackie Chain – This is another hip hop artist that I know nothing about nor could I speak to even if I was familiar. Like the name, though. Alabama boy.

Jacques Greene – There is no such thing as enigmatic house.

Jambinai – Whoa! Hella post rock played on traditional instruments. WAY straight out of Korea. Killer.

Jamestown Revival – Fuck a bunch of hats.

Japanther – Have been so over this band for so goddamn long that it might just be time to see them again. Telephone art school rock duo. Loved them so hard, once. SO hard.

Jaw Jam – Is this, like, the awkward high school introduction to face fucking?

Jeff Black – All you young buck country winking shit could learn a lesson in humility and smoke.

Jeremy Messersmith – Love songs for fragile glasses.

Jerome LOL – Every year. Every goddamn year.

Jesse Malin – Jesse Malin mattered most when NYC was at the height of it’s last gasping zenith and kids could still afford creepers at Trash and Vaudeville but now? I don’t know, man. I just don’t know.

Jetta – Killer voice.

Jitterbug Vipers – I love you.

Joe Hertler & the Rainbow Seekers – Wait…what was “like a quilt”? You know what? Nevermind. I hate you.

John Doe – Duh.

John Fullbright – Country. Okie. Legit.

John Moreland – See above, only more so.

Johnny Winter – What?

John Langford & Skull Orchard – I guess John Langford is somebody but I’d WAY rather see a band just called Skull Orchard because I will forever be indebted to duct tape for reasons that need not be reconciled here.

Jonathan Toubin – He lives. He spins. Amen.

JoyCut – Electro vapor anthems. I could win the Olympics with this shit.

Joywave – I think this is anti Le Tigre which, when you consider how much I did not enjoy Le Tigre, should ring all sorts of glory bells for me but doesn’t. Just totally fucking doesn’t. Ugh. Shave.

JP5 – Sure?

Juan Maclean – DJ set which means you won’t get to see Viva slink. Sad face.

Juan Perro – That means John Dog. I prefer John Dog.

July Talk – Boy and girl sing rock songs for safety.

Jungles from Red Bacteria Vacuum – Maximum fuzz pop girl punk Japan. ALWAYS SEE THE JAPANESE BANDS!

Junius – Super serial.

Kabul Dreams – Afghan rock man. Dig it.

Kadavar – Was there this much hair last year?

Kayo Dot – Hipsters, metalheads, tech nerds and various intellects (of the insufferable set and otherwise) love the fuck out Kayo Dot. I keep trying but it’s a lot. Like, everything.

Keith Urban – Is he still married to Nicole Kidman? Remember that movie Birth where she fucked a child because he said he was her dead husband? Yeah, man. That happened.

Kelis – It’s been a long damn time since we lost ODB.

Kendrick Lamar – Have fun on line.

Kid Congo & The Pink Monkey Birds – Kid Congo Powers was in The Gun Club, The Cramps and The Bad Seeds (back before Cave got all…whatever he’s been recently) and if all three of those bands don’t fire your loins the fuck up to a frenzy, you’ve been dead to me since you were born.
Kid Ink – I like the name enough to spray paint it on a shirt. Won’t listen. Ruins it.

Kid Karate – Baby faced radio rock duo from Dublin. This shit’ll RULE late, drunk and lost.

Kiev – Crimea, man. Shit is bad.

King Parrot – Aussie grind goofs. I hope people take this shit seriously.

Kins – Your imaginary girlfriend totally loves this band.

Kishi Bashi – Violin plucking tenor swoon.

Knxwledge – There are real words, you know? So many real words in so many real languages that it is all but LITERALLY impossible to run out of cogent nom de plumes. You, however, have chose to replace an “o” with an “x” in a word used to define awareness and/or intelligence for the sake of…um…argument, I guess as a means of best defining who you are and what you do as an artist thereby rendering any coherent pronunciation impossible even in the deepest hamlets of voweless Wales. Dick.

Kodak to Graph – Your wool knit gives me a rash. Bloop.

The Kooks – Curiously inoffensive Brit pop and roll.

Kosha Dillz – It’s funny because it’s true.

Kraak & Smaak – Onomatopoeias forever!

The Krayolas – Political Chicano pop rock por vida.

Kristal and Jonny Boy – Abba, Mummenschanz and Stereo Total walk into a bar…

Kumbia Queers – Um…YEAH!

Kurt Vile – Sorry, Ben. I only liked that one song of his. I know everyone thinks he’s a genius and maybe – one day – I’ll get it but there are so many more inspiring weirdos, you know? Breatherholes, for one.

Kylesa – Double drum post crust metal monsters groove like whoa to their own hate funk.

L.A. – Here come the Spanish with the Big Chill jams.

La Femme – French panic attacks for cruiseliners.

La Luz – The Kap’n told you all about these garage rock chicas, like, two years ago. GET HIP!

La Snacks – Pretty sure they have a song about a doughnut. I fucking love doughnuts.

Landlady – Space psych edifice of a krautrock heart. Been told they’re mental live.

The Last Internationale – Do you ever wish Janis Ian were more decidedly steeped in politics? Of course you do.

The Launderettes – Norwegian girl garage with a retro futurist Palmer girl aesthetic.

Laura Cantrell – She’s a big deal, right? I don’t listen to a lot of country.

Lazer/Wulf – Pretty sure this name is ripped off from a geek team on Pat Kiernan’s short lived pop culture trivia show. Like Russian Circles swigging the Hotlanta funk.

Le Youth – Oh, LA.

League of Extraordinary Gz – I wish it was Hz. That’d be far doper, gentlemen.

Lee Fields & The Expressions – If you can’t get funky, you better get laid.

Leftover Cuties – Where?

Leif Vollebekk – Are you NPR?

Le Maitre – This may or may not be a danger party. Could be total bullshit. You can dance to it, though, so…why not, right?

Les Claypool’s Duo De Twang – Yep.

Liam Bailey – SOUL!

Like Swimming – This band, like many others, is not someone else.

Lily & The Parlour Tricks – Huh. I don’t know if I like this revival tent gloom electro Americana but it sure is fucking different and that is something, all right.

Lime Cordiale – JAN AND DEAN FOREVER AUSTRALIA!

Lincoln Durham – Bitches love Van Dykes.

Line & Circle – Are you being cryptic or retarded?

Liquor Store – You fucking know it, buddy.

Lisa Marie Presley – aha. ahahaha. AHAAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA!!!

Little Dragon – Press Junket.

Little Fyodor – Weirdo dummy punk. If they were only named Baby Igor.

Little Jesus – Who doesn’t want a pocket god? SMITE AWAY!

The Littlest Viking – Legit killer. Shred as fuck.

The Living Room Project – Jesus Christ, these are children, aren’t they? Ugh.

Liz – Well, that narrows it down.

Lochness Mobsters – I smell beer.

London Grammar – Hair.

Lord Buffalo – Creepy crawly death country. The sound of the old Bad Seeds with the voice of a whiskey trainer.

Los Encantandos – Mostly rock but kind of all over the place in a Brooklyn summer rooftop way without reminding me that I can never, ever afford that kind of luxury again.

Lost and Nameless Orchestra – You must understand that when I say “country” I say it with a veneration for the Appalachian traditions of country and heartache and sing song and blues traversing the Emerald outlaws.

Lost in the Trees – Tender. Moody. Curious.

Lost Tapes – Dreamy summer storms warm swollen waters off the coast of Spain somewhere were pop never succumbed to cynicism.

Love Inks – I always want to see this band. I never fucking see this band. I will seriously try and see this band but I probably won’t again.

Lovely Bad Things – This band put out one of my favorite records of last year. Goddamn right, I’ll be catching their Burger Pixies punk again.

Lucinda Williams – Legend.

Lucius – Another band with another album of the year from 2013. If I don’t catch them this year I will – literally – kill everyone.

LYS – My dearest friends are currently in France selling scarves to the immaculates. I am INSANELY jealous.

Madi Diaz – Guilty pleasure lens flares.

Madlib – Huh.

Magic Man – Thirty seconds of this band and I already have a Charlie Horse. Thanks, jerks.

The Magic Numbers – This is nice music for and (seemingly) by nice people. That is actually quite refreshing.

MAGIC! – LIES!

Major Major Major – THERE’S ONE MORE FUCKING “MAJOR” YOU TWATS!

Major Stars – This band’s been around since ’98? What the fuck have I been doing with my life?

Marcus Brown – The Marcus Brown I know would never stand for this shit. No offense.

Marijuana Deathsquads – This is some serious Midwestern freakout shit right here.

Mark Kozelek – Ben! This is the dude who is Sun Kil Moon. You’ll fucking love him.

Mark McGuire – I don’t care how ethereal your shit is, there is no excuse for naming a song “Dream Spa.”

Mars Argo – Pretty people can pretty much get away with everything. ESPECIALLY when their roots are showing.

Mary Lambert – This lady is the reason you like Macklemore and Lewis.

The Mary Onettes – Post…

Master Blaster Sound System – What the fuck is Cumbia Crunk?

Matisyahu – Any enemy of my enemy is eh.

Matrimony – Banality will be the death of me.

Matt the Electrician – Just a dude and a guitar and a throat full of earnest.

Max and The Moon – Olin and The Moon or bust.

Maya Vik – If you’re a drag queen, yes. If you’re a bio femme, no.

MC Lars – White boy nerd hop for, like, forever.

Me and the Bees – I applaud your use of handclaps. Supercute.

Mean Creek – Fine fuzz rock from Boston.

Meat Market – You know, after a while, it’s totally fine to play like you aren’t an 8 track stuck in a garage.

Melissa Etheridge – Wow.

Melt Yourself Down – Afropunk jazz yelp glitch funk? Help me out on this, Mike Patton.

Merchandise – Florida punks gone long-winded experiment and goth pop croon. I think 4AD just nabbed them. D. Vassalotti is a genius.

Merriment – Wes Anderson ruins everything.

Miami Horror – The fear is real.

Mike Peters and The Alarm – Wait. Why aren’t they just The Alarm?

Milezo – Enough, already with this garage shoe drug nap shit.

Milk Drive – Whoever wrote your bio should know better than to ever use the term “jazz grass” unless they happen to be an overworked and underpaid Editor spending his twelfth night in a row DESPERATELY trying to listen to and say something about the thousands of goddamn bands playing SXSW. Seriously. Terrible attribute.

Milo & Otis – Fuck you. Pay me.

Mimicking Birds – When I was a boy, I tried to talk to birds with a keytar. I also say aliens in the back of a Woody. Trues stories.

Miniature Tigers – Indie pop. Not bad at all, really. Not for me but a-okay for anybody else, I think.

Mire Kay – Creep post punk pretty chamber folk duo.

Misterwives – ACH! Oh. Okay. Sure.

MØ – Between Grimes and Ke$ha is a vacancy, evidently which is currently filling in Copenhagen.

Mobb Deep – Oh shit.

Mom Jeans – Punk sucks.

Money for Rope – Is it just me or is there something vaguely racist about this name? I’ve worked with skinheads too long, I guess.

Mono Inc. – Dude, what the fuck is even HAPPENING in this world?

Moodie Black – Some NEW new noise shit. Minneapolis is fucking back on the map this year, baby.

Moon Hooch – I love baritone saxophone. Secret’s out.

Moon Taxi – White boy bluesy folk country blues pop dudes.

Morgan O’Kane – Whatever, man. Banjo is fucking badass.

Moses Sumney – I think this man might be incredible.

Motel Beds – Fuck yeah, Dayton.

The Mothe & The Flame – There’s something entrancing in the falsetto and understated thumbkey experimental groove of this band. I would love to listen to their record but have no desire to see them.

Mother Falcon – There are, like, 30 of them. Horn-rimmed classical shout pop. Do it.

Mothercoat – In my mind The Mae Shi and Deerhoof made so many technotronic babies it’s a wonder the internet isn’t just the biggest, longest sore nipple ever. Japan.

Moving Units – Once the rabid dance punk expansion of the frantic fanatic Festival of Dead Dear the band is now a Blake Miller experience.

Mozes and the Firstborn – The more I listen, the more I think Burger might be a Dickhouse scam.

mr. Gnome – I forget…

MS MR – Power packing boy/girl synth belt dance cash punch.

Mujeres – This band fucking rules.

Mumiy Troll – The fuck?

Mutoid Man – I will see this band based on the radness of naming a song “Gnarcissist” even though I should just have an instant Hydrahead chubby for this band featuring dudes from Converge and Cave In.

My Gold Mask – I cringe for the future.

My Jerusalem – I’m open.

Nas – Um. Holy shit?

Natural Child – Is this the creepy dude with the harp or is that the other child?

The Neighbourhood – Thin ash R&B.

Neon Hitch – I fucking hate the lady baby voice so fucking much when I hear it my balls bleed black ire and my dick dies up into my spleen. I have a very complicated anatomy.

New Bums – Drag City acoustic lazy bones.

New Madrid – It’s like, every time I take a nap I have a crippling anxiety dream.

Nicholas David – Alt soul acoustical country as featured on The Voice.

Nicky Da B – BOUNCE, MOTHERFUCKERS!

Nicole Atkins – Every couple years, you need a new Stevie Nicks.

Night Drive – Glum pop for 80s disco.

Night Terrors of 1927 – Sun goths play fashionable “whoa” electro in a much less experimental way than their press liaison would attest.

Nightmare and the Cat – Shut up with this name.

Nightmare Boyzzz – Go back to bed.

Nina Nesbitt – I don’t believe that she exists.

NO – Yes (I mean it).

No Brain – K Pop Punk. Big fun.

No Joy – Pretty people playing ugly, bored and drugs.

No Regrets Coyote – Party RAWK free America punks.

No Sinner – This year’s Alabama Shakes except for that one dude’s hair. Is that a coon cap? What the shit…

North Americans – LA ambient glitch and bemoaning.

Not in the Face – If I had a garage, you can bet your sweet ass I’d have, at least, three kegerators going on any given day.

Nothing – Gaze metal, Philly.

NYMPH – The fine line between obtuse, obscure and idiotic.

O Conqueror – Easy listening for folksy adults.

Oberhofer – Clean guitars and searing solos. Dance tension for stadiums.

Obliteration – RAAAAAAARRRR!!!!

OBN III’s – Local bruise cruisers nut deep in the Blue Ribbon.

The Ocean – Epic instrumental metal. The name is no misnomer.

The Octopus Project – The most fun you’ll ever have dancing the Madison with an android.

Odonis Odonis – Post pleasure discordance for soiled reverbs.

OFF! – There is no anger quite like aging. Punk rock is lost on the young.

Oil Boom – Naked strip blues party Texas.

OK Sweetheart – Just as precious as you’d imagine. At least it’s not a Deschanel.

Okta Loge – I expected the rock and roll, I got the chill vibes bro.

Orchid – If it ain’t with Will Killingsworth it ain’t worth my time.

The Orwells – These teenage kicks will be the hot shit ticket for fashion punx on the bend.

Otis the Destroyer – This is some old school Richard Linklater jams.

Outer Minds – The Black Angels on goofballs and Grade C blotter.

Outernational – What?

Owl Eyes – Aussie light sleep young diva.

The Pack A.D. – Two broads, no bullshit. Drum and guitar without the lipstick faux pas. Killer.

Pack of Wolves – Thud groove death with two bassists, three guitars and two vocalists. Give me excess or give me death.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart – The name will always prevent me from giving this band the time of day.

Paint Fumes – 8mm nickelodeon scuzz stomp.

Painted Palms – I heard good things, ya know? Good things.

Palehound – My lady hates Liz Phair. I think “Fuck & Run” was a revelation.

Panama Wedding – Why do bands want to sound like this?

PAPA – You love them. We love them. Hugs and sex and drunk.

Paper Lions – Horn rim, cashmere and boys in tight stripes. Fine rock of the indie variety.

Parquet Courts – All the kids love this shit. Ms. Mitzi mentioned something about Television or The Modern Lovers. Rumored to SLAY live.

The Parrots – Who the fuck can even afford to live in a place where there’s a garage? Seriously. Can the shit.

Pattern Is Movement – Philly represent the experimental white soul but fucking good.

Paus – Did you know there was a NYC program for the youth called Peers Against Unsafe Sex? They start working with middle schoolers. Clearly, I was a late bloomer.

Peach Kelli Pop – Fuck it. I love you.

Peelander Z – Japanese rock madness from all sorts of outer space. Get readY for S-T-E-A-K!

Penny & Sparrow – Some dudes just like a soft heart and warm harmonies. The older I get, the better I dig that.

Perfect Pussy – Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. BUZZ LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER! Pop noise behind lady punk.

Perfume Genius – I don’t really listen to Perfume Genius but there’s something about the raw bravado of Mike Hadreas’ queer frailty that just speaks volumes to power.

Petite Noir – Just let me pretend it’s that French Nationalist Black Metal band for a second, okay? Can you just fucking give me that? Actually, Petite Noir’s probably much better than Peste. Goddamnit.

Petunia & The Vipers – Adults.

Phantogram – I have some Chromatics to listen to.

The Pharcyde – Will someone just fucking pay them already?

Pile – I will see this band and secret and shed many beer man tears with my fist raised like a talisman to all the hearts of lost in the ridiculous struggle of just trying to be me.

Pilgrim – “I think this weed is wet.” “What do you mean?” “You’ll see.”

Pinata Protest – Nuevo Voodoo Glow Skulls con acordeón.

Pink Nasty – You mean, pussy right? In an emphatic reappropriation from the grotesque patois of the patriarchal shame of this nation?

Pins – Everybody pout.

Pitbull – My mother loves this bald prick.

The Pizza Underground – We have reached a point in our cultural discourse where a shitty child actor’s limp-dicked grasp of postmodern detachment has created a band that turns a hallmark of wry innovation into fucking songs about pizza. Fuck everything.

Plastic Visions – Roll the chump fuzz over the alt nation and pretend Kurt really didn’t give a shit about fame.

Plastician – More nazi hair. More discoteca.

POC Nation – When Mexicano rock and roll comes through your ass best be ready to get fucked up like fucking crazy.

Polica – A lady and her electronic mans. More powerful than expected and that’s coming from a monsoon, baby.

Pompeii – Die bearded, stay pretty. I always wanted Explosions to sing just a little bit to break a hole in the epic manipulative bullshit (I miss the days, smoking cigarettes on the floor, when I could just listen to “Your Hand in Mine” and cry).

Pontiak – Swole ball grunt fuzz from a couple brothers. Thrill Jockey approved.

Pony Boy – Stay gold, swing bold.

Power Trip – Discharge sucks.

The Preatures – There’s a girl. You’ll just talk about her.

Primitive Man – Throatruiner does NOT fuck around. Behold the Promethean horror.

Problem – There was a German in Compton?

Protex – It must be strange to rally the anger and umph after 35 years of punk obscurity.

Psychic Teens – Pigfuck chinless end chump shoegaze bore hate.

Psychic Twin – I just can’t right now, Brooklyn. Move the fuckalong.

Public Service Broadcasting – Fuck that. Where’s my EBN?

Pujol – Ben wants me to give them another chance.

PUP – Toronto punks. Straight up. Sweat and sing and shout shit. Kill it.

Pure Bathing Culture – I could only hate this name more if it turned out to be a reference to Proust. Fuck that dude and his cookie.

Pyrrhon – Death metal skronk. What? I wish this were Burn the Priest too but it isn’t.



2 Responses about “SXSW 2014 (not so) Short List: G-P”

  • big ross says:

    “Max and The Moon – Olin and The Moon or bust.” haha. Yep!

  • George says:

    Hey Chuck,

    Listen you Christmas light-clad dweeb, this list of bands makes your writing so god damn obsolete I feel sorry just replying to your drab, uninspired and totally bitter prose. But I am. Oh you bet, Chuck. When you were in high school and couldn’t manage to play any sport, do anything creative or convince the kids–who are probably your boss now–who mattered that your opinion was “valid” they all shrugged and said “who the fuck is this guy?” This is good question Chuck. Who the fuck are you?