Summer Already

It's in the 90s here in Boise, and it's been that way all week. This weekend will dip back toward normal and into the 80s, which will be much better. All this means that summer has hit our doorsteps with all the force of the Sunday Times.

It's good. Winter has ended with a bang. Last weekend I spent all day Saturday riding the IF in the Danskin Mountains, a tough and vertical trail system mainly used by dirt bikes and ATVs. It was fun and challenging and just damned hard. When 4.5 hours on the trail yield you about 18 miles of terrain covered you know it's either tough going or you're taking too many breaks. We did both, but mostly it was tough going.

On Sunday the wife and I floated the Snake River through the Birds of Prey area. The water was moving at a good clip, though about 3000cfs less than the previous evening. Still, the whole 10-miler took us about 2.5 hours. Saw a mess of falcons along with a handful of hawks and a load of turkey vultures and a good number of waterfowl. Very sunny and hot but the up-river breeze kept us pretty cool.

Change in seasons usually means a change in hours and habits for me, and unfortunately the blogging has suffered. I'm re-engaging once again, though, and will be more regular with this. Again.

Happy Spring.

Round 3

And just when you think you're out of the woods, that the dark and gloomy canopy crowding out the sun of total recovery is behind you, there it is--another goddam forest.

Tony Pozeck is currently at St. Alphonsus hospital here in Boise getting prepped for what will be his third surgical procedure. Over the last week and a half he's been dealing with swelling in his head that his docs attributed to accumulation of cerebral spinal fluid. The solution? Wrap it tighter and keep at least a 30 degree angle at all times. When these conservative measures didn't help, he went back to the hospital and they determined he had an infection.

Infection at a surgical site is never anything to be scoffed at. Infection at a surgical site following brain surgery--nevermind multiple brain surgeries--is worrisome. We're worried. Tony's strong like bull, but now he's contending with some nasty invasive shit, and he'll need all the help and discipline he can get to sail through this one.

Tony's at St. Al's in Boise, room 660. If you read this, give a call and see how he is. Or send flowers. Or a postcard. He's been a trooper and a rock so far. We saw him last night and he had a few visitors, so his spirits were up, though it was not difficult to tell that this shit is starting to get to him.

Here's to a successful surgery and a quick and FULL recovery. It's time.

Weird Music

This weekend marks the first annual Boise Experimental Music Festival. It's being put on mostly by local mad scientist Krispen Hartung, and RadioBoise is one of the sponsors.

The lineup is pretty interesting, and though I don't know jack about most of them, I'm looking forward to finding out. Hell, just the fact that something like this is going on here in so-NOT-experimental Boise, ID, has me pretty damned excited.

One performance of note will be Art Hodge. Art's a guy I've met through the radio project. He played a big part in helping the webcast get up and running and in helping some of us figure out the finer points of the technology side of webcasting. He gave me a tutorial on ProTools, too. He's got a show called Break Me Off Some, all breakbeats, and also, he's one of the four rotating hosts of the JazzJoint show that I put together for RadioBoise (which runs Wednesdays from 11 to 1, mountain time). I knew the dude knew music, but I had no idea how deeply. Check out his site: http://www.arthodge.com/ His creds are pretty amazing. He produced fucking Santana and got a grammy for it? And he lives in Boise?! Weird. I'm looking forward to what he puts together for the stage.

We'll be webcasting the whole thing, so check it out here. Tonight, Friday 4/28, 7 to 10p MT, and Saturday 4/29, noon to 10 MT.

HORNER!!!

This one's got to be soooo sweet.



In year 2 of his return trip to European road racing, Chris Horner of Bend, OR, has come up with a big one. He won stage 2 of the Tour de Romandie, and I can't think of anyone who deserves it more or who I'd rather have seen win. He gets the V, he gets the yellow jersey. Beautiful.

Back to Spring

The Yellowstone bike trip is now in the history books, and that, along with the sunny blue skies and blustery winds that have settled onto Boise, means that it is indeed springtime. Sure, there was frost all over the city this morning, and the ride in this morning was colder than it's been in weeks, but still. It's spring, and you can't tell me any different.

Riding in Yellowstone was fantastic as ever. Little chilly, little rain, little snow, little sunshine, and lots and lots of buffalo. On day 1 we made it to the Norris Geyser overlook, about a 60-miler round trip with backtracking. Great ride. Our man AP was able to ride about a half hour in and back, which, coming off what he's come off of, is no mean feat. Nice to see him on the bike again--and it'll be even nicer having him ride along for the long haul. (So start logging them miles, boyo.)

Sunday, which was meant to be ski day, was ride day #2. Too warm and too much rain for skiing. So, we made it a bit shorter and faster of a deal, and I made it out to the 2nd junction before turning around and beating it back for the gate. Nice to spring off on my own, iPod engaged, and really open it up. Felt great. On the way back in Tim and I heard an eagle's screeching, over and over, but couldn't see it--until it flew directly overhead and then perched in a tree about 30 meters away from us. Amazing.

Oh, and we heard wolves, too. First day out, within a mile of the park gate, rolling slowly, we heard a good half-dozen of them howling and howling. First time I've ever heard this, and what a sound it is. Unmistakable, and unforgettable.

So, today I've got the mountain bike at work. Out the window the sun is shining, and the flags are fluttering in the spring breeze. It'll be 50s today, and 70 by Friday. No rain in sight.

Yep, it's springtime. Welcome back.

Jellystone

Well, it's that time again. The annual cycling trip to Yellowstone starts this afternoon. This means spring is truly on the way.

The weather's looking like it did last year--chilly, windy, and some chance of rain or snow. But the roads are clear, the room is booked, the beer is chilling, and my butt is ready for some long miles on the Pinarello.

Let's hope the bison are feeling agreeable.

So exciting.

Tapes n Tapes

I know, me and everybody else, right? Or maybe not.

I caught this band down in Austin during the big SXSW, and they hit and sped right on past my high expectations. Why high? First time I heard them, echoes of Pavement, probably my fave band in the whole wide world okay, bounced throughout my head. That doesn't happen.

This is no Pavement ripoff. That would blow. This is a new band, a young and hungry band from Minneapolis-eh, making killer indie rock with its own voice, separate from the shiteload of Britpop stuff and retro rocking knockoffs cramming up the Bitchfork archives. If you have yet to hear this record, please do. Or first, go to the official website and have a listen. There are 3 tracks available, and if any one of them doesn't sell you, forget it. You're dead. Or deaf. Or, I guess, maybe you just don't like this band. Which would be weird.

Anyway. Diggity.

Via Chicago

I'm in Boise airport waiting to catch a plane to Denver, where I'll get on another plane to go to Chicago. Greg Lilley is getting married up in Wilmette this weekend, and I'm headed back for a long weekend. I'm really looking forward to this, as I expect to see a lot of people I haven't seen in years and years.

On the drive here this morning Cathy asked when the last time I'd been back in Chicago, and I was shocked to realize it was for Tony Kernagis' wedding, probably about 5 years ago now. Or maybe 6. Either way, it's been a while, and it's about time to get back there again.

Mostly I blame my parents. I mean, if they hadn't left there and moved to Alabama, I'd still go to Chicago to visit them and therefore everyone else--high school friends, college friends, family and family friends, everyone. Since they're not there any more, I just don't make it back often enough.

Anyway, here I go. Barry'll be picking me up, and I'll be staying with him most of not all of the time. Saturday night after the wedding I'll be staying in the hotel near the reception, and tomorrow night I may end up crashing at Macri's, as Shields and Mack are coming out to Oak Park for the evening. This oughtta be a highlight of the weekend, as I haven't seen or hung with these f'ers since my wedding. Friends from like 3rd grade and kindergarten, respectively. Craziness.

The food list is short but hefty: Italian beef sandwich, pizza, gyros, pizza, and pizza. I brought running clothes and shoes so I don't totally undo everything I've been able to do over the winter.

So, this time I'm bringing the laptp with me. We'll see if I regret it or not. I doubt it.

SXSW Saturday

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.

Our Man AP

There is good news out of Boise, ID.

Our man Tony Pozeck, who just two weeks ago went through his second brain surgery of the year, is well on his way to a full recovery. He's through the immediate post-surg tough time, has dealt with some severe swelling and the mental and motor repercussions of that, and is steadily improving day by day.

Of course, with something like this (I mean like having your head opened TWICE and having a schwannoma removed from next to a cranial nerve and a dermoid tumor pulled from under brain tissue), you have to continue to be careful and vigilant and CAREFUL, but it seems he is headed down the right path.

Just this morning I got an e-mail from him, articulate as ever, expressing interest in joining me, Tim, and John on our annual spring trek to Yellowstone for some road riding in the park before the cars are allowed. We've done it every year for the past 3 years, and it's a rite of spring that we all look forward to. It's a long drive, and he won't be able to ride, but he wants to go. That's a good sign.

Most importantly, when you talk to Tony, it's the exact same Tony that we knew before. It's all there--the memory, the humor, the amicable insults, all of it. To be back to himself so soon, after all this shit he's had to go through, is amazing and commendable.

I always knew the dude was tough, but this seals it. Good job AP. We'll celebrate in Yellowstone.

SXSW Friday

Friday started off so well.

We slept in, reeling from Thursday night, then got up and made breakfast of the infamous South Austin Speedball to prep ourselves for the long day ahead.

There was lots going on during the day on Friday, but we made the tough decision to forego everything else and camp out at Club deVille all day long, provided we could get in. This was the Insound party, $2 to everyone, badge or not. Very nice. The lineup was solid--it started out with Love is All, then The Boy Least Likely To, Pink Mountaintops, and Serena Maneesh. All bands on my list to see. Headlining, though, was Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, one of my top 3 for the weekend. So, we didn't think we'd get in, but we thought we'd hit the line early and see.

We got in line at 2, and we were in by 2:15 when the first band started. Sweet! And to make it sweeter, free beer and barbecue all day. Suffice to say I'll be supporting Insound, those wonderful people.

So we hung all day, staking out a primo corner with a chair and a place to rest beers. Love is All rocked, they were fantastic, powerful indie pop from Norway, I think. The Boy... was also a good show, very very happy and bouncy, the perfect thing for a 3pm beer buzz. Pink Mountaintops sounded great, a bunch of Canadians with a feel-good jam-out rock vibe, sort of like Broken Social Scene numbed down to Califone tones. Serena Maneesh rocked, also Scandinavian I think, just busting out tune after tune of hard moving indie rock.

Then came CYHSY. They came out and broke right into Heavy Metal, a great opener, and when the singer opened his mouth to sing, the squawk was even more pronounced than usual. It was painful just to watch him try to sing--apparently he had totally fried his voice and could only hit a certain slim range without going blank. Nevertheless, he kept at it like a trooper, the band pounding away behind him, working through a set as fun and wonderful as I could have expected. Great show. And a wise move.

Unfortunately, that's where the Friday fun ends.

We got out late, missed the 9:00 we wanted to see, then I for some reason abandoned my plans and decided to go to Stubb's and see the Subways. The line was a mile long. So we tried the Flamingo for Afrirampo--again shut down. Elysium for The Boy..., same thing.

My night was supposed to end at Animal Collective, but it was looking like everything was too packed, plus it was St. Patrick's Day and the idiot contingent was just too much to bear. So, rather than walk around all night, I thought I'd hang at Stubb's for the middling but interesting lineup of Metric, The Magic Numbers, and Snow Patrol. Seems solid, right?

Wrong.

We never made it in for Metric, as we watched the badge line swell and recede and we never moved. We made it in for The Magic Numbers, who bored me to lifelessness. No doubt my frame of mind influenced this, but still: boring, derivative, sappy crap. Hated it. Snow Patrol? Sucked. Arena rock garbage packaged as sensitive boy indie rock. Just an awful presentation of mediocre material, made all the worse by a total lack of effects or enhancements, which is what makes their records interesting.

So, great day, crap night. Saturday would make up for it, surely.

SXSW Thursday Night

The night began with a very bad decision. It was either chase a rumor and get in line at 6 to try to see a Beastie Boys show at 7, or get down to Auditorium Shores for VIP seating and free drinks for Spoon. We chose the latter, largely because it meant we could eat at Green Mesquite. Bad choice. Not the barbecue, but the rest of it. We couldn't get backstage, couldn't see well and missed a big chunk of it wandering around trying to find the person who would get us in to the big hookup. Oh well. We stood around with the families amid the blankets and day glo necklaces for a while and then made our way back to the bikes to roll downtown.

A quick trip across the bridge brought us to Jazz, or Parish II as it's called this week, where we had some time to kill before Detachment Kit. We went up and watched Jon Vanderslice for a little bit, then went back downstairs. As they came onstage, Eric turns to me and says, "Hold on to your ass." Glad he warned me. Them boys just laid it all out there, thrashing their way through a fierce set of Chicago rawk, intense and loud and relentless. Great great show.

We walked across the street to Buffalo Billiards for Earlimart, which was ok but sort of boring. Didn't really stack up to Detachment Kit, nor to the rest of the night. Rock was becoming the theme. Follow the rock.

The Fiery Furnaces brought it, transforming loads of songs off Blueberry Boat from orchestrated art rock to straight up rock rock, done four piece style with the focus on heavy guitars. Great set, not at all what I was expecting, but perhaps they've got sick of the freaky flitty stuff and want to get back to it. They did, Eleanor all in white and looking like a young and hungry Patty Smith.

After that we went to Emo's IV, where we saw Vietnam, who weren't so fun. Wandery jam rock, all teeth and hair, so we went down to check the line at Eternal for CYHSY. Huge, badges only, f' that. We went back to Emo's IV to see We Are Wolves. Good decision. Inspired, really. They were fantastic, way high energy hard ass guitar drum keys and synths, all screamy and fuzzed out and tremendous drum beats. Really fun show and a great way to move the night to the next pitch. Eric dug it too.

From there we made our way to Fox and Hound to see what the deal was for Brazilian Girls. We got in, but this band called Particle were still onstage, where they stayed for what seemed days, playing their hippie jam band crapola way beyond their allotted time. They even brought Jon Popper's fat stupid ass up on stage to sponge that godawful harmonica garbage all over a watery Once In a Lifetime. It was a travesty, a crime almost, and the kids ate it up. As a wise young South Park resident might say, Stupid hippies. Finally, about 1, me and Eric broke out of that mess and made our way back to Soho for Thunderbirds Are Now! Another great decision. We're on a roll. We got there as they started and they rocked it out for an hour solid, high speed spazzy punk like there will be no tomorrow. An amazing set, alongside We Are Wolves as the best moments yet.

Riding homeward, as we approached Fox and Hound, Cathy sent Eric a text saying the Braz Girls had just started. Friggin Bingo. We parked the bikes and ran in to the tented parking lot and caught much of the set, which didn't even start until just before 2. They were outrageous and fantastic, the singer the sexiest person I have ever seen on a stage anywhere. Amazing lithe Euro hottie just playing the crowd like a cheap flamenco guitar--hard and overtly sexual. Wonderful. We all loved it. We left at 3, and they were just starting into their encore, Lazy Lover.

A nice ride home, to bed at 4, and now we're heading out to do it again. We're trying to get into the Insound party for CYHSY, but we'll see if that'll be possible. Fingers crossed.

SXSW Thursday Daytime

Is it really only half over?

Tapes n Tapes started things off nicely on Thursday.

But let's back up.

Juan in a Million started things out wonderfully Thursday. Half a Don Juan (now a whopping $3.25) and a machacado taco with chiles and tomatoes with a pile of chips and salsa (not as blistering as usual) with coffee and a lot of water was exactly what this boy needed to get up and go.

From there we went to Austin Cycles, Eric's new shop, to check it out and say hey to Sol. Great place. A really nice setup with a long bar and the work space behind it, so that customers can sit on a stool and watch the work being done. I can see why Eric loves his new job so much.

Then came Tapes n Tapes out behind Yard Dog. Great show, really makes me want to see their showcase. Great blistering indie riffs with french horn, growly and melodic. The CD, The Loon, is really good, though I've only been through the whole thing once.

We headed home to clean up and grab the bikes, then headed downtown. Into Emo's Jr., where Dengue Fever had the room rapt and baffled. The Cambodian singer lady was belting it out to some groovy worldy stuff played by a tall trio behind her. In the main room some other band was playing, don't know who, seemed sort of like a demented Poi Dog crossed with Dexy's midnight Runners. Weird but hard to look away. We went out and across to Emo's IV to see Willowz, but they were screechy and awful and we broke the hell out.

From Emo's it was on to Room 710 where the schedule was off in our favor--so we caught WHY? again. Good show, though much the same as the night before and still without Gemini. After that Gogogo Airheart played, and they were fun to listen to. Not so great to watch, but they do rock it.

We walked from there to the Beauty Bar where we hoped to catch a set by Lady Soverign, but she was inside and invite only, so we went round back and listened to Cut Chemist spin for a while. He was good, great aftternoon music, not big dance but not downtempo. Then we walked over to the 18th floor hotel bar to see Editors, but Eric and I bolted for home instead. We were planning to see Spoon at 7 and wanted to eat and get ready.

Eat we did. The Green Mesquite. Fantastic. Bubba taco basket, one brisket one chicken, and a gallon of Dr. Pepper. A heavenly place to be on a Thursday afternoon with a slight beer buzz, sweaty from the bike ride home. Texas just like I remember it.

This is just Thursday day. The night hadn't even started. I'm writing this on Friday morning, and I'm in stunned disbelief that this is only half over.

SXSW Wednesday

Hell of a first day.

Me and Eric started it off by getting out of town with the mountain bikes, riding at Rocky Hill Ranch for a few great hours in the morning. My first time riding a 29-er, a Gunnar steel beauty, and I have to say I'm impressed. And buying one. But this is about music.

Our first couple shows were random and not great, as we stopped at the Guitar Town party just in time for all the filler. Just the Silos and some boring country stuff. Snoozola. The Gourds came on at about 7:30 or so and it just wasn't doing it for me. Packed in with a bad crowd. So we bolted. Time to get the Rock on.

We made our way to Stubb's for the New Pornographers, but got there early enough for Blacklight Morning something something. Slow and repetitive Califonish blues rawk that never really did anything but run through some nice grooves and loops. Good for background music at home, not so exciting live. But the New Pornos did not disappoint. Neko and AC were both in fine form, belting it out like pros, and by the time they hit set closer Spanish Techno they had the bass dialed in and sounded great.

From there we went to the Emo's Annex to see WHY?, but we were early and there was no line so we fast-walked it over to Fox and Hound to investigate a rumor. The rumor was true, as it turns out, and we got there just in time to stand in the alley in the rain and listen to The Flaming Lips do a dead-on and brilliant cover of Bohemian Rhapsody. What a moment. We stayed for a couple songs then headed back.

WHY? pulled off a really good set, mostly new stuff with a couple old tracks and some not yet heard new stuff. Waterfalls and Rubber Traits were fantastic, as was Crushed Bones. 3 of them, playing all manner of percussion and keys and a guitar, sounded awesome.

Cathy called as that set was winding down to let us know that she just walked right into the Parish for Art Brut, so we beat feet over there and got in just before the big line formed. They put on a great and hilarious rock show, very glad we caught them. They brought out the hits and the kids loved it.

Now it's Thursday, and we just left Yard Dog where we saw Tapes n Tapes, great show, maybe the best yet. We'll clean up and head out for the day--hopefully we'll see the Editors, Earlimart, Gogogo Airheart, Willowz, and a couple other shows, all before our dinner date with Spoon.

Here we go again.

Here It Comes

SXSW XX.

This special anniversary edition of the annual music festival that takes over Austin like an especially virulent strain of kudzu every March promises to be bigger, better, louder, and fatter than any seen previously. The band list is sick, the schedule frenetic, and the day parties are absolutely bat-shit crazy.

After missing out on the madness the last two years in a row, I'm heading to Austin tomorrow to take part in the 20th version of SXSW. The scale of this year's gathering predictably brings to mind memories of past years, but I won't delve too deeply into that now. Suffice to say that, back somewhere around 96 or so I considered myself lucky as hell to see the Poster Children, Archers of Loaf, and Red Red Meat in the same place in the same weekend. Things certainly have changed.

This year, for the first time in many visits, I'll be making the rounds purely for pleasure. While the lack of deadlines and the total freedom are no doubt appealing, I'll certainly miss the benefits of the badge. Getting into the big shows with a wristband has been getting progressively more difficult, and now I have a feeling it's damn near impossible. Like you can just show up a half hour early and get in to see Art Brut or Clap Your Hands Say Yeah or We Are Wolves--or, hell, The Flaming Lips or WHY? for that matter. I'm a bit worried, but with every act popping up at least 2 or three times around town during the week, there's got to be some way to see these folks. I'll be trying, that's for sure.

I also hope to blog the whole while, but we'll see how much time and energy I end up with. After all, outside the clock-filling music schedule (seriously, day parties all day every day, showcases every night from 7 to 2am, then late-night parties every night until dawn), there's lots of mountain biking and eating to do, too. One week just isn't enough.

Wish me luck!

Good Energy

Our man Anthony Pozeck undergoes brain surgery #2 tomorrow, Tuesday, March 14th, 2006. This is a big bad one--as if any brain surgery can be anything but--and we all will be sending our best energy toward Tony for this.

Tony's a great friend to a lot of people. And we all know the man's strength. So, by the time I get back from Austin, surgery will be done, recovery will be well underway, and Tony will be on the road back to being the person he is now--less one big ugly mass of tissue underneath the left side of his brain, that is.

Good luck Tony. We're with you. Be talking to you very soon.

Funeral

Richard Patrick Terra, a co-worker, father, and nice fellow, was celebrated and laid to rest today. I didn't know him well, though I worked with him every day and talked to him fairly often.

I don't really know that I have anything else to say about it, except that he will be missed, that he was obviously a smart man and a great father, and that funerals are horribly depressing things. Gimme a bar full of loud drunk friends and family laughing and fighting about me. Or gimme a quiet exit, unnoticed, barely remarked upon. Just don't give me a Catholic funeral in a sterile funeral home conducted by a priest who didn't even know me or my family.

If it seems tacky or out of line to be critical of something like this, sorry. It's not so much criticism as it is the inevitable reflection and projection you go through during and after attending a funeral.

The Floyd

Our man Floyd Landis, mountain biker gone pro roadie, is now in the lead in the Paris-Nice race. Good to see a fat tire kid kickin ass on the skinny tire set. In France, even.










Check out coverage: http://www.velonews.com/

Free Jazz

Stay with me here.

Ken Vandermark is amazing. He's a sax player based in Chicago and is one of the driving forces in improvised music today. I'm sure most people shut down entirely when the words free jazz flash through their mind like a signpost for a road that you never ever want to end up on, but if you can deal with a bit of discomfort, if you can pay close attention and open your mind to identify and connect influences and avenues, then there's a lot to love in this music.

When I was in Portugal, in Lisbon, the proprietor of what would become my favorite bar--a place called Bar Lisboa--turned me on to a Vandermark project called Tripleplay. It's a trio, improvised music, very powerful stuff and very connected to Portugal. (Funny that there's such a strong following for this music there--back to the Euro support of jazz in the absence of it in its birthplace.)

I recently came across a review for a record Vandermark put out last year, called Elements of Style, Exercises in Surprise. All it took was a single listen to the muscular movement, the solid riff that anchors the opening track, and I was hooked. Check the link, you can listen. Give it a shot. The whole thing is up for download on emusic--grab the track called Knock Yourself Out and see if you don't agree.

SXSW Blog

My man Oko in Austin has set up a new blog. He's working for THE man, Sr. Raoul Hernandez, laying down the info for the Chronicle's coverage of the big SXSW, and has parlayed his knowledge overflow into a blog to benefit the rest of us.

Check it out, and check back often. It's growing rapidly. Like a weed. Or a virus. Or a suburb. *shudder*