SXSW 2013 (not so) Short List: O-Z SXSW 2013 (not so) Short List: O-Z

BIG_sxsw_2013_logoHoly fucking hell in a bacon wrapped handbasket, I did it. I DID! I listened to close to 3,000 bands and did all I could to say something reasonably sensible (or incendiary) about them and now, today, this day of days I’M FUCKING DONE! Of course, I’ve barely scratched the surface of everything and everyone that’ll be happening in Austin when Pinpoint throws the shackles off and stares drunk deep into the abyss but that’s what we’re going in for…surprises, mistakes, the happiest of accidents and stories that, if we’re smart (we’re not) we’ll write down and burn the next morning. So, yeah. By the time you read this, I’ll have gone the way of the Lone Star for a good long while. Ben and I will do our hot Scout’s best to update you with photos and anecdotes posted on the regular right here on the site or on Facebook or Twitter or through furiously misguided smoke signals thrown up from the Lightsey House. Just know that, in all of this, we love you and appreciate your vicarious pleasure in the greatest of our adventures. Rockit.

O Conqueror – Tender, introspective and (unfortunately) not The National though this singer has much better range.

Obnox – Pig fuck blues. Yeah dude.

The Ocean Blue – Another 120 Minutes forever band but, like, for real.

Of Mice and Men – Metal should never look like Adam Levine.

Off With Their Heads – Gruff throats and baby faces. Once No Idea to the bone. Get drunk, sing long.

Oh No Oh My – Cute.

On An On – Holy shit, I love this. Electric ethereal sex pop and the pulsing basement party jams that remain understated despite the blown route paved by bloodied white Keds.


The Orwells – Teenaged half punks for the new surf set who’ll probably play like maniacs unless they’re Christian. Oh please JESUS don’t be Christian.

Ozomatli – I never knew. Did you?

Pacific Air – This is some slick, brotherly breezy shit so, of course, they look all grumpy.

Pageants – A rougher Best Coast stuck in midtempo. Sleepy time rock trio.

Pallbearer – DOOOOoooooooooommmmmmmzzzzzzzzz.

Palma Violets – This UK band tore through NYC a few weeks ago on some hot shit hype that was met with blogging drools. Their record is pretty damn all right.

Paloma Faith – Totally thought this was a drag queen vamping Lana del Rey.

Papa – No, Ben.

Paper Lions – This band actually sounds like they were once called the Chucky Danger Band if you think of glockenspiels instead of dickless major chords.

Paramore – Remember when the chick from Paramore accidentally tweeted her boobs? Mine were bigger freshman year.

Parenthetical Girls – Talented and reasonably authentic weirdos who play fucked up gloomy art synth and talked Giles Corey into opening up for them. It’s just a shame they’re not Glenn Branca.

Parquet Courts – People have been swelling up their affection for this band a good while now and I think it’s finally about to bust but you know what? No. This band sucks. Lazy Pavement punk. PTOOOEY!

Paul Oakenfeld – I’M ON DRUGS! SHOW YOUR TITS!

PAWS – Fuck yeah. Scotland popped the noise indie punks out of the garage and straight into my heart.

PC Worship – Bad drug ugly biker psych jams.

Peace – This is not the Peace I was looking for. The right one’s Canadian (duh).

Peelander Z – Where will they be without Red? WHERE?!?!

The People’s Temple – You’ve got to be a pretty ballsy band to name yourself after Jim Jones’ death cult. These kids lack in such sac.

Petite Noir – I will willingly admit that I’m an idiot for mistaking this African electronic man with the notoriously reclusive nationalist French black metal act.

The Pharcyde – Damn. They’re still alive?

Phosphorescent – I want this to be a John Belushi SNL sketch. Did I ever tell you I met his brother? I did. Sorta.

Pickwick – Remember what I said about Darryl Hall? Pickwick do.

Pictureplane – Grimes’ boyfriend. Sorry, Lemon.

Pink Nasty – Not nearly as badass as the name might suggest.

Pinkish Black – The new stoned doom for bypassed Argento films.


A Place to Bury Strangers – The new kings of Bauhausian amplifier noise worship.

The Polyphonic Spree – I still think they’re some sorta new age cargo cult.

Pompeii – Feelings.

Power Trip – YES! THRASH! YES!

Pretty Little Demons – Two girls, ages six and eleven. That is all.

The Protomen – I don’t…I don’t even know what to say…I think they listen to a lot of Queen on D&D.

Psychic Friend – Piano pop that thinks it’s smarter than you should.

Pujol – He’s a road warrior. I’ll give him that. BUT I AM THE HUMONGOUS!

Pumcayo – Mexican prog folk for the Fleet Fox set and yet I don’t hate it. Funny that.

Purple – This band is kinda fun. Someone needs to tell the singer she isn’t Gwen Stefani, though. It’s awkward.

Pusha T – Still can only think of Kanye when I think of Pusha T but that’s a damn fine association, I think.

Pyyramids – Do I pronounce the second “Y” like I do with Wavves?

Queen Kwong – Like the Kills only uninspiring.

Quiet Company – You know, this isn’t so bad. It’s rock with beards and suspenders and occasional piano and trombone. I bet they work their asses off.

Ra Ra Riot – Their bass player pisses me the fuck off.

Radiation City – Of course, they’re from Portland.

Rah Rah – They like the Mekons which is WAY cooler than liking the Decemberists. Ew.

Ratking – NYC is taking hip hop back from those skate brats. I wish the tales of the rat king were true.

RDGLDGRN – I pronounce it “fuck you.”

Residuels – Reverbed out garage punk that slips between the tin can and the howl. Philly represent.

Retox – I’ve had a secret crush on Justin Pearson since I first spoke Locust and now I’m FINALLY getting to see his new molar blasting fuck all punk band. Thank fucking fuck for that.

Rey Pila – Chilled out Mexicano super commercially viable jingle fucking jangle.

Richard Thompson – WOW!

Ringo Deathstarr – Aw. My second SXSW interview ever. Cutey Patooty shoegaze.

Rites Wild – Sexy sleepy gloomy electronic solo death moans. (swoon)

Rituals – The thing that we tend to forget about goth is that there’s a deep black pulsing punk rock heart defibrillating behind all those capes and lashes. A little psych even.

Roadkill Ghost Choir – I like your name a lot. Your tepid country, not so much.

Robert Delong – Crazy seamless one-man singer-songwriter percussionist synth pop dance your little white ass off band. I can’t even drive a fucking car.

Robert Randolph and the Family Band – The king of lap pedal steel.

Robyn Hitchcock – Holy fuck.

Rocky Votolato – I’ve seen him twice. Both times my girlfriend at the time cried and cried and cried and cried and yet we dated for years after that.

Ron Sexsmith – I should know who this is but I don’t.

Rosco Bandana – If Edward Sharpe were the…Wilco? No. I miss Uncle Tupelo.

Rough Francis – Punk as fuck.

Royal Bangs – Hate their name but they play the 70s Muse groove pretty good.

Royal Baths – Brooding bluesy bad kids ex the new white garage psych rage. I prefer the Black Snakes but I guess that was a different take on the bored sexy.

Royal Teeth – These kids are far too fresh-faced to have ever appeared on 90210. What the fuck? Oh, wait. Ra Ra Riot.

Royal Thunder – The band your metalhead friend is in with his girlfriend.

The Rubens – Good sammich, shitty white soul.

RUN DMT – Thank GAWD my bag of dicks is full again. Eat up.

RZA – Ha! Yeah. You have fun with that.

Sad Baby Wolf – Jerks.

Said the Whale – What? The fuck did he say? You speak whale, motherfuckers? Yeah. That’s what I though.

Salesman – Alternately awesome and exhaustive, this band’s pretenses far exceed their talents but fuck it, right? Go big or go to hell.

Savages – MON DIEU! Est-ce Siouxsie Sioux? Non? Bien, then.

Scanners – Your echo folk will not explode my skull but it is mighty pleasant to listen to.

Scott H. Biram – If I’m drunk (which I will be) then yeah. I’ll tip to a song.

Seams – Delightful electronic. No need for a live environment.

The Seedy Seeds – Electro/acoustic Wham City charmers that are WAAAAY too cute for their own good but dude, yeah…I give.

Semi Precious Weapons – Fuck you and the salon you skeeted out of.

Seryn – Big heart country folk.

Set It Off – What the fuck am I even doing with my life?

Asgeir Trausti – Iceland.

Shakey Graves – Straight loose old country blues. So refreshing. Just so GODDAMNED refreshing.

Shannon and the Clams – HOORAY!

Shark Week – Yeah. Why not? Sure. Fuck it.

Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings – SOOOOOOUL, BABY! It’s my favorite dish. (not really, though)

Shinobi Ninja – WHOAHOHO NO! Thanks. Seriously, though. No.

Shit and Shine – Fuck if I know. Could be some awesome buried underneath all that willful awful.

Shoes – You didn’t, did you? Oh, you did. You actually named your band Shoes. I bet there’s a story there, huh? Goddamnit it all to hell already.

Shooter Jennings – Bad boy country.

Shout Out Louds – My teeth hurt.

Shout Out Out Out – Why the fuck is your electronic act a sextet? WHY?!?!?

ShowYouSuck – AHAHAHAHA!

Shugo Tokumaru – YES! Japanese acoustic toy twee melodramatic dream journal madness that’s so catchy it just makes you want to light your Ruxpin on fire.

Sick/Sea – This would be totally acceptable female fronted 90s indie rock had the Arcade Fire not come along and convinced everyone that uncomplicated pop songs sucked.

A Silent Film – Heartfelt headnods from the Teens’ idea of what the 90s thought the 80s were. Follow? Fuck it.

Single Mothers – Fuck you, let’s (cocaine) rodeo.

SISU – Dum Dum’s drummer playing a grimmer dream of her more fashion retro happy day job.

The Skatalites – These dudes are too old to PICKITUPPICKITUP!

Skaters – Take the Strokes and give them youth, crass derision and an agitated sense of cool.

Skating Polly – I’m beginning to feel a little weird about how many underaged girl bands (this duo is 12 and 17, oddly, respectively) who’ll be playing the festival this year but these Shaggs v. Babes in Toyland are adored by Exene Cervenka so, shit. What do I care?

Skinny Lister – English pub folk.

SKREW – Every time I am reminded that SKREW is still a band a little piece of my misspent youth laughs, chokes and dies.

Sky Ferreira – See, now this is interesting. Sky Ferreira is a prefab artist who started her career through the internet and was initially sold as hackneyed electropop. That effort failing egregiously, she’s been refomrated to be a kind of blasé Blondie. I’m not buying it. I bet the industry will. Fashion certainly has her pegged as the next new soon dead siren.

SLDHMR – Seriously. Vowels are useful. They make the fucking Romance languages sing you fucking pricks.

Small Black – Aha! I get it. Steve Albini really ought to beat the snot out of you but he won’t because he’s too busy cooking for his wife and changing the world on drum mic at a time.

Snak the Ripper – The fuck does that even mean? Is that some BC street shit? Eat a dick.

Snoop Dogg aka Snoop Lion – Man, go take care of your fucking kids.

Snowblink – Huh. Um. Okay. It’s a little laissez fey for my tastes but it works in it’s own minimalist melodramatic way.

So Cow – Right. There is, indeed, a band named So Cow. I’d almost forgotten.

So Many Dynamos – Would you say there was a plethora of dynamos?

So Many Wizards – I mean, there certainly could never be a plethora of wizards. Could there? I don’t know. You tell me, Jefe. You tell me if there could be a plethora of wizards and perhaps I will not feed you to the perros.

The So So Glos – I find it very difficult to listen to overtly political punk no matter how ironically they call on jukebox swingers.

The Soft Moon – Maaaaaaybe my favorite new arty farty goth band. Maybe.

Sons of Fathers – This’d be some pretty decent country if the singer didn’t sound like such a pussy. Man up, dude.

SORNE – Ha. Oh yeah, no.

Soul Khan – Again, don’t know much about hip hop but this fucking spitting of the verse going into the whiney fat over-emotive chorus is some fucking punk ass bullshit that needs to fucking end right here and fucking now.

Sound City Players – OH, DUUUUUDE! I want to see the Dave Grohl super mega awesome everyone and their mother and Lee Ving and Rick fucking Springfield show but that’s got a fat fucking chance of happening.

The Sour Notes – This is not a clever moniker.

Speak – So I kinda fooled around a while with this goth girl way way back who chewed her lip ring in the shower, fully clothed when she did acid. We called her Speak after the mystery rat dog from The Tick who only spoke to the titular character once in the Amazon (I think) because Speak (the girl) didn’t believe in telephones but she did take me to see Moxy Fruvous (or however the fuck you spell that) once and gave me my first “successful” blowjob after a day in the hospital with food poisoning because I stayed by her side instead of going to wherever the fuck it was Justin and I were supposed to end up…maybe. Good times.

Speakerfoxxx – This shit’s gonna be dirty, huh?

The Specials – Legends.

Spider Bags – FUCK YEAH! The Modern Lovers of Chapel Hill.

Spindrift – The fuck is a “mellosonic”?

Spiritual Wives – A Texas band influenced by “Drive like Jehu, Pixies, Swervedriver, Fugazi, Swans” or so they claim. I’ll bite.

Squarehead – Unironic 50s love. I think?

St. Lucia – There are no urban wilds of Brooklyn left, Jean-Philip unless you count Brownsville and East New York and I’m willing to wager by your pallor and pompadour, you don’t.

Stagnant Pools – Propulsive post punk fuzz and hazy croons. That’ll do.

Stardeath & White Dwarfs – All I know is they did that Pink Floyd record with the Flaming Lips so, yeah…if you’re into that sort of thing…sure.

The Stargazer Lilies – Of all the shoegazing nonsense happening the last few years, this band ACTUALLY sounds like My Bloody Valentine.

Steve Earle – Bad fucking ASS!

Strange Names – Harmless.

Strangers – Kind of heavy as fuck, kind of nu metallish poofing, a little punk melodics thrown in. Eh. Depends on the time and my BAC.

Striking Matches – My mom really likes pop country now. I wonder if she watches Nashville.

Suburban Living – Why do kids thirteen years younger than me enjoy John Hughes soundtracks so goddamn bad? Actually, this is less John Hughes and more…um…Heaven 17?

SuiseiNoboAz – Yes, they’re Japanese.

Sun Araw – Fuck this shit.

Supreme Cuts – Electronic. A little dark but not nearly enough to make out to.

Surfer Blood – Do they have any song that’s better than their Brian Eno ripoff, “Swim” (which I fucking love)? This is a real question.

Suuns – Gloomy catchy dancey gothy let’s get weird and regret this artful sex.

Syd Arthur – I GET IT! (i hate it)

T.I. – Didn’t MTV give this dude a pre-sentencing sitcom?

Talib Kweli – Yeah, he was pretty good. Heard he’s a dick in the studio, though.

Tall Ships – Moody, skronky and (occasionally) spacious. Shit’s complex.

Tallows – You know that song in that commercial that you think is the Arcade Fire but it isn’t? Yeah. It isn’t Tallows either but it’s pretty close.

Tango in the Attic – Their record cover is sexy as fuck and their music is a pretty lovable mishmash of tropical doo daddling, far shore love and Dischord math. I dig the fuck out of this.

Tashaki Miyaki – I bet Slumber Party had the best fucking hangovers.

Team Spirit – Vice approved self-loathing surf music.

TEEN – Too cool for school hazy lady 60s electronic pop destruction. Love/Hate all the way.

Tegan and Sara – I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard them.

Telekinesis – Fuzzy pop. Merge guaranteed.

Tenlons Fort – Aw. This is really pretty.

Terakaft – Ex Tinariwen. Yeah.

The Terror Pigeon Dance Revolt! – Oh Jesus fucking seizure loving art school dropout Christ. This shit’ll blow your mind…maybe.

Texas Hippie Coalition – Terrified.

Thao and the Get Down Stay Down – Delightful. Why not?

Thee Oh Sees – I like this band so much more now that I know that he was Pink of Pink and Brown.

The Thermals – Honestly? I haven’t given a shit since Fuckin’ A!

Third Eye Blind – You have GOT to be fucking me.

Tiger! Tiger! – When did exclamation marks become tantamount to disappointment?

Tijuana Panthers – Pinpoint faves.

Timmy’s Organism – Well, this ought to be weird.

Today Is the Day – YES! YES! YES! So much hatefuck metal YES!

Toro Y Moi – Go on and pretend you’re grown up.

Total Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs – All disco dancing must end in broken bones.

TOY – This is kinda what I thought The Brian Jonestown Massacre would sound like instead of all those shitty Rolling Stones songs that weren’t on Hot Rocks.

Trash Talk – Yeah. Um. You really, really, REALLY need to see fucking Trash Talk live to understand the unbridled terror of Lee Spielman performing live. Dive.

The Trews – Oh god, no.

Tristen – Last year she was supposed to end up at the Pinpoint house but she didn’t which is just as well because I was in the tailspin of a mouthvomit breakdown that even Boobs Two couldn’t mend though Eric’s grilled cheese was pretty benevolent.

Trummors – Man, that Free Country commercial just makes me want to DIE!

Turbo Fruits – I don’t care if they’re really good. I refuse to see a band called Turbo Fruits.

Turtle Giant – I’ve totally had anxiety dreams that sounded exactly like this.

TV Ghost – Ooooooooh, shit! I’ve wanted to see TV Ghost for a while now. Bad, bad times. Like…the fucking WORST. I could have the best, weird sex to this.

Two Cow Garage – Damn, this band’s been around a minute. Poppish punkish Americana kinda eh.

Tying Tiffany – FASHION!


Ume – Max was raving about these kids last year during my aforementioned decline. Maximum rock and roll over shoegaze time and that chick can fuck SHRED!

Uncle Lucius – Country rawk.

Unknown Mortal Orchestra – They sounded really good when I was on a beer line for two hours but it was hot and sunny and I was chewing on cardboard to get the last bits of flavor from my friend’s wife’s French fries.

Useless Eaters – This kid plays the nasty garage pretty damn decently. That might not sound like much but compared to how many fucking people are ripping this retro fi, he’s a creamer.

Vacationer – Music for grown ups who refuse to acknowledge they’ve failed.

Valleys – Low gaze that occasionally gets noisy but mostly just lies there like a smoggy breeze.

Vampire – Yip music for Manhattan elitists.

Vance Joy – Lonely boy folk.

The Vespers – More mom music.

Vietnam – The funny thing about these Brooklyn kids all playing like they’re in the 70s is that anyone living in Brooklyn in the 70s (or the 80s or the 90s for that matter) would have eaten them alive.

Vimes – Emotive beats for luxury branding.

Vinyl Williams – Broody psych pop. Very thorough.

The Virginmarys – Fuck it, man. Let’s rock and roll.

Vockah Redu – Oh, FUCK yeah. Smoooking hot NoLa MC and bounce boy carnivale.

Wake Owl – Fuuuuuuck! I was supposed to review this record. Sorry, Vagrant. Your mellow longing is assured.

Walk Off the Earth – Percussive folk where everyone sings in big almost harmonies, like, ALL the time but I don’t know. It’s pretty all right.

Wallpaper – Vaguely rhymed half-idiocy over electron pop and beats.

Wampire – Kinda silly, pretty amazing electronic rock on Polyvinyl. They cover “The Model.”

War Party – Um…what?

The Warlocks – I think I actually prefer this band to The Black Angels. More drummers, harder drugs.

Warm Soda – This is what happened to Bare Wires after last year’s breakdown.

Wavves – Kwame tells me they’re loud as fuck. I hate them and all they’ve done to sink the promise of youth culture.

Waxahatchee – Why the fuck do I know the name Waxahatchee? I think it’s pretty good. A girl? Loose rocking of a demure sort. Probably wild and sloppy live.

The Weeks – For friends of Kings of Leon. Possibly twins. Twins give me the willies.


What Made Milwaukee Famous – I feel like this band’s kinda been around forever. Have they? Some 70s country soul shit.

Whirr – Kinda wild shoegaze that gets lumped with the punks more often than not. There are six of them. Maximus.

White Fang – Shirtless friends getting high, being loud, having fun.

White Lung – Sorry was the best punk record of last year. I MUST see them.

Why? – That’s a question you’re gonna have to ask yourselves.

Widowspeak – I think this might be the band Ray hates. I hate Brooklyn so bad these days.

Wild Belle – Electronic rhythm and pop soul with a pretty little blonde swooner.

Wild Child – People need to stop playing like it’s the motherfucking 1850s. The 19th century sucked dick.

The Wild Feathers – Big, bad blues alt country.

The Wilderness of Manitoba – I’m done. Fuck it.

Wildlife Control – Super enjoyable two-piece radio friendly unit shifters.

The Woggles – Serious fucking vintage here.

The Wolf – They sound like The Woggles hate production values.

Wolf + Lamb – When did Robert Palmer sign to DFA?

Xeno & Oaklander – They closed the last Wierd party here in NYC. Respect the hallowed electronics.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs – I like them more as the years go on since hating the fuck out of their set opening for Jon Spencer at the mid period Knit but seeing as they’re opening for Nick Cave at this gig…yeah…you’re probably not getting in.


Yellow Red Sparks – If only we could all be Wes Anderson movies.

Yip Deceiver – I ALWAYS know this isn’t Yip Yip but I’m still ALWAYS disappointed when I’m assured.

Yokozuna – Hey gringo! This is how you fucking RAWK!

You Me & Us – Oh yeah. Pop smoke from the old school indie pipe.

The Young – Gloomy and discordant Spaceman take on the old psych racket.

Young Dreams – They look like they’re having fun. Sound like it too. I fucking LOVE fun, dude.

Young Fathers – Deep soul over a cracked, scraggle beat. Different. Definitely different.

Young Girls – And now your beach rock sound has me on the CIA watchlist. Thanks, dicks.

Young Widows – Yeah, buddy. Bring the gnarl.

Youth Lagoon – Another band everybody likes.

The Zolas – I can’t drive and even if I could, I could never afford a Lexus.

The Zombies – No. Effin. WAY!

Zorch – I’m a little surprised to find myself enjoying a band that wraps a mangled psych pop emerald around the errant jams of “Sun” era Boredoms and glittery noodling of latter day The Flaming Lips but I kinda really do.

Comments are closed.