Pitchfork

Peter Morén [The Parish; 10 p.m.]

Sure, I'm as sick of "Young Folks" as the next guy, but I don't hate on Peter Bjorn & John. Writer's Block is a pleasant enough album, and I feel like any sort of overly strong negative emotion towards these guys is kind of like getting mad about those Once people winning an Oscar. What's the point? They mean you no harm, and you can bring them home to Mom.

Peter Morén opened his set completely solo, singing along with a Magnetic Fields-like backing track. It was cute and catchy, exactly the kind of hooky indie pop PB&J specialize in.

After that, things went downhill, slowly and gently. Most of the material Morén played, accompanied by a keyboardist and string trio, lilted along like a summer breeze. Lovely and refreshing at first, but then just kind of there. Nothing to get worked up about (either positively or negatively), but nothing to get excited about either.

Morén is quite a charming character, though, which might end up being the saving grace of his forthcoming solo album, The Last Tycoon. His banter about faking a hearing problem to avoid serving in the Swedish army (before "Reel Too Real") and how students are more well-behaved than teachers ("Social Competence") provided minor blushes and giggles, and it's possible there's a lot of wit in his solo songs' lyrics that I just wasn't able to make out in the live setting. So I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

After announcing that he would be playing a different cover at each of his SXSW performances, Morén brought out Adam Olenius of Shout Out Louds for a duet on A-Ha's "Take on Me". Their voices harmonized perfectly together. Peter Bjorn John & Adam anybody?

The Mae Shi [Mohawk Inside Stage; 11 p.m.]

Like Dan Deacon, the Mae Shi squeeze every last drop of joy from the marriage of spazz-punk and kiddie pop. On the tiny Mohawk stage, surrounded by amped-up fans who seemed to be soaking in Red Bull from the atmosphere, the Los Angeles band exploded with good cheer. They've got the energy, sure, and the stage moves (audience invasions, guitar hero poses, gimmicks like spreading a sheet out above everybody's heads), but unlike so many noise bands that are all about confrontation, the Mae Shi have the songs to back it up. Their latest album, HLLYH, is one of the most enjoyable listens of recent months, its hooks hitting pleasure centers deep in the brain, and its vibe one of boundless creativity. And like the album, their SXSW set (the first of many they are scheduled to play before the festival is over) was short and sweet, refusing to overstay its welcome.

Frightened Rabbit [Maggie Mae's Rooftop; 12 a.m.]

Over the past few weeks, I've become perhaps unhealthily obsessed with Frightened Rabbit's forthcoming second album The Midnight Organ Fight (out April 15 in the U.S. on FatCat). I can't explain why this band's jangly, anthemic indie pop hits me harder than everybody else's jangly, anthemic indie pop, or why such terrible-on-paper lyrics as "you're the shit and I'm knee-deep in it" and "it takes more than fucking someone you don't know to keep warm," sung by a guy who sounds like the twee Scottish version of Adam Duritz, come across as so profound. I just don't know. But it works. I can't stop listening to this album.

Maggie Mae's Rooftop is not an ideal music venue by any stretch of the imagination. The "stage" is situated on a patio in front of the bathrooms, resulting in a steady stream of people walking right in front of the band in order to go do their business. And as is typical of most SXSW venues, which aren't usually devoted to live music performances, the sound was shite, all overdriven feedback and static hum.

But Frightened Rabbit were so wrapped up in their own little sound-world, they didn't seem to care. Singer/guitarist Scott Rabbit's outbursts and convulsions were all the more dramatic in contrast to the overwhelming averageness of the band's appearance. You just don't expect such emotion from a guy who looks like he should be playing Scrabble down at the local coffee shop.

Have I mentioned how much I love this band? I love this band.

The Tough Alliance [Karma Lounge; 1:15 a.m.]

If you've read our past Tough Alliance coverage, you know that Eric Berglund and Henning Fürst are just as interested in the theories behind the performer/audience dynamic as they are in the show itself. But never mind that. These guys put on a hell of a mindfuck, whether you knew what was going on or not.

The pair took the stage enveloped in fog and strobe lights, bearing nothing more than a video projection screen, a pair of maracas, two microphone stands, and seriously determined expressions on their faces. The screen intercut scenes from blinged-out hip-hop videos with idyllic images of dolphins and beaches. The maracas were quickly tossed aside. The mic stands were wielded like baseball bats, guitars, batons, and various other phallic symbols/weapons, much to the chagrin of the Karma Lounge staff. Very rarely were they used as things to actually sing, or even lip-sync, into.

The seriously determined expressions never wavered, though, with the guys staring off into the middle distance, fixated on a point just above the small but enthusiastic crowd's heads. They looked as if they'd ingested a potent cocktail of ecstasy and steroids, blissed out but ready to punch in the face anybody who didn't share their happiness.

The glistening synth-pop of songs like "Silly Crimes" and "First Class Riot" sounded great blasting from the club's sound system, all pre-recorded and unencumbered by any live embellishments. Did two baby-faced Swedish boys just completely destroy the entire concept of the live musical performance? Maybe.

It was all over in less than 20 minutes.