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The Cansecos [Habana Calle 6 Patio; 9 p.m.]

When the Cansecos took the stage, it was a pleasant surprise to see the Canadian quartet made up of dudes who didn't look like they were in a band, the drummer's bolo tie aside. They kicked things off with an astral, Daft Punk-y tune before settling into their own danceable groove; unfortunately, their singing was hit-or-miss during the entire set, but the bass player was working overtime with a constant accompaniment of bubbling lines. Overall, they were at their best when they kept things tight and not, as they proclaimed themselves before their multi-part closing song, "epic."

Peter and the Wolf [Central Presbyterian Church; 10 p.m.]


There's something about churches. Peter and the Wolf played Central Presbyterian, and the minute I walked into the sanctuary, everything just felt calmer. While a space can determine the tone of a performance, Red Hunter and his chorus of note-perfect backing vocalists did a damn fine job of establishing a mood themselves. Hunter was relaxed and conversational, repeatedly referring to the choir as his friends and practically including the audience in that designation.

For the most part, the songs went by so quickly that I felt like I missed one if I spent too much time breathing. The biggest exception was a rousing, fleshed-out version of "Safe Travels"-- the group took their time building it, and the result actually swung. Like "Safe Travels", quite a few Peter and the Wolf songs have themes of movement and/or city-dwelling, so as Hunter sang about the fast pace and isolation of modern life, the delicateness of the performance provided a lovely counterpoint.

R.E.M. [Stubb's; 12 a.m.]

There was no way people weren't going to love R.E.M. Their set was one of this week's Big Shows, and I was honestly expecting not to get in. An hour beforehand, Stubb's was surprisingly easy to enter, but it was plenty packed once I got inside.

Michael Stipe opened by saying, "Children of South by Southwest, come to me," and he followed that with plenty of stares, smiles, and open-armed gestures throughout the night. R.E.M. are professional entertainers, in the best way, but the amount of energy they put into their performance was inspiring for a band that's going on three decades (!) of existence.

The flipside of being around for so long is that you amass a catalog so big you can't possibly please all your fans with a single SXSW set. This show consisted of an unfortunately small number of the band's biggest classics (though superfan favorite "Fall on Me" made an appearance), but people ate it up anyway. My favorite moment of the set, however, occurred when Stipe explained, "That was a new song" and a fellow show-goer responded with, "Now play an old song."

The Lemonheads [Emo's Annex; 1 a.m.]

The Lemonheads, on the other hand, celebrated the old songs, playing the entirety of their underrated 1992 album It's a Shame About Ray in order. The record's a small-scale affair, a compact set of tunes about things like getting high, liking girls, being (drug) buddies, and eating cereal (at least I think that's what "Ceiling Fan in My Spoon" is about, unless it's about drugs). And for this show, Evan Dando and co. left the record pretty much intact; he freely added falsetto throughout, changing things up just a bit, but songs this good didn't need anything extra.