Now that it's been a week and then some, Saturday is faded in my mind. Not surprising--it kinda sucked. I'm having trouble thinking of anything specific that I saw, day or night.
The day shows got good once we hit Mother Egan's. Eric was hip to see Silversun Pickups, and we got there just in time. A trio from Cali, they put on a good show, some great songs nearly overshadowed by the lead singer's overexuberant feeling of the love. They were followed by a band I vaguely remember, not too bad but nothing to stick.
Then, Prescott Curlywolf. So glad we made it. They hit it hard and rocked out for their whole half hour, one after the other, no breaks, tight as ever. Baldachino, Mariposa, pow pow pow. It was so good to see them it redeemed the rest of the day.
Not so for the night, though. It's a bit of a blur at this point, but we were shut out of a few shows before finally perusing a handful of midgrade rock bands. The Pink Swords, from Austin, looked like they were having a ball, drunk as hell and thrashing about, bringing the punk rock straight and dirty. We also saw a two-piece called something something, I don't remember, but they've got a new record coming out on Self-Starter, maybe, or Merge. I don't remember. Memorable.
We bolted there and made our way to The Cribs at Club de Ville, and they were good. Too bad we didn't get there earlier--we made it just in time for the last song and a half and a nice rainshower.
We rode home through wet streets, mellow and tired and a bit sad at it all being pretty much over with. Anticlimactic, sort of a letdown, but after the whirlwind of the first two and a half days, a bit of a letdown isn't such a big deal.
I don't know if I'll go back. It was great fun, but losing over 5 days of vacation time is a big deal to me, and I think there are other ways I'd rather spend it. Besides, going to Austin when this isn't going on lets me do a lot more that I want to do.
But then, I've said that before.