Pitchfork

The South by Southwest festival is an indispensable annual event for music industry folk to discover new artists and network with fellow-- aw, who am I kidding? We all know there's one reason you wish you had been here: The place is one big fucking party. And no parties are bigger than the show-stopping Saturday extravaganzas that close out the week's showcases. For my last day in Austin, I went on a celeb-o-rific tour of the most Hollywood-approved soirees, beginning with the one date we've all had marked on our calendars for weeks: Rachael Ray's Feedback Showcase.

Feedback Showcase With Rachael Ray [Beauty Bar; 12 p.m.]



The Beauty Bar is another multi-room venue, with an unfortunately slanted back patio, a nicely shaded front porch, and a bar with a step-down lounge and a row of vintage hairdryer seats. I'm told that when SXSW crowds aren't descending on the city, Beauty Bar is a gay-friendly spot, and the pink walls and glittery decor certainly testify to this. What more perfect place for that bubbly, bright, and dictionary-definiton "gay" (adj. happily excited : merry: keenly alive and exuberant) Rachael Ray to bless us with her populist cuisine and surprisingly hip musical tastes.





DJ Efren "Vote for Pedro" Ramirez was the afternoon's centerpiece, keeping the mojito-loaded crowd shaking their asses to a pleasantly diverse selection of tunes from Simian Mobile Disco to "Sweet Child O' Mine" to "Sensual Seduction".



On the back patio, one of Rachael's favorite bands, Denmark's Raveonettes, performed a set from this year's Lust Lust Lust. Sune Rose Wagner and crew tore threw a set of their fuzzy pop tunes while Ms. Ray stood sidestage looking to be having the time of her life. Later, her husband's band Cringe took the stage with a guest appearance by ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons. At an already odd SXSW party hosted by a cable TV chef and featuring an also-ran indie movie star, Gibbons' presence threw the WTF factor way over the roof.

















Oh, yeah, and then there was the food. This, I admit, is the reason I volunteered to cover this showcase in the first place, and I wasn't disappointed. The menu was a southwestern-themed smorgasbord featuring some bite-sized "Seven Layer Sliders", ribs, macaroni and cheese suiza, and of course, chips and dip. With plentiful pitchers of mojitos to wash it all down, Rachael kept her fans happily stuffed and peppy enough to keep dancing through the afternoon.





Kevin Barnes [Club DeVille; 3 p.m.]


Of Montreal's Kevin Barnes played an impromptu acoustic set at Club DeVille on Saturday, in between sets by Bodies of Water and the White Rabbits. The often flamboyant frontman kept it simple-- when his guitar was untuned, he simply grabbed another one of the band's from the stage, and began strumming.





Barnes opened the set with a rather morose, short new song, before launching into a cover of M.I.A.'s cover of Parvati Khan's "Jimmy". It was a breathtaking, stripped-down take on an erstwhile over-the-top jam; once the crowd got past their initial amusement, everyone was singing along to the chorus "Jimmy! Aja!" while Barnes hummed along with the original string arrangement.

Next was a slow-paced version of "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse", with Barnes again interpreting the synth lines with some casual la las. A quick Grateful Dead cover ("Shakedown Street") and a song (jokingly) attributed to Dylan later, the brief gig was over. The crowd, delighted by this unexpected addition to the bill, realized it was time to return to regularly scheduled programming.











Perez Hilton's One Night in Austin [Palm Door; 10 p.m.]


Say what you will about Perez Hilton's encouragement of the feeding frenzy that is modern, web-based paparazzism, but dude knows how to throw a party. From the moment I got through the door and was awash in the smell of vanilla scented candles and pink spotlights, mountains of Cafe Bustelo espresso, and gratis Fuze drinks (not to mention gratis anything drinks), I knew I was in the right place. The Palm Door has a huge back patio overlooking a creek, with giant oak trees towering overhead. On the wooden deck was a complimentary hair styling station, for those lucky enough to sneak a spot in line before the gig started.

Yeah, and there's the gig, too: Robyn, not exactly your first choice to bottom out a bill, nonetheless kicked off the evening pretty early around 10:30. She ran through a set of what may as well be her Greatest Hits: "Konichiwa Bitches", "Who's That Girl", and Prince's "Jack U Off", just to get things started. An adoring Perez stood stageside, shouting and clapping with the rest of the audience, who included a few other SXSW buzz acts: I spotted at least one member of Vampire Weekend and Robyn's countrywoman Lykke Li mulling about.























The Tough Alliance [Beauty Bar; 1 a.m.]


It's not always the best judge, but sometimes you can determine the right act to see by noting which other artists are hanging around waiting for a gig to start. Late, late on Saturday night, I found myself back at the Beauty Bar's front patio, waiting with Jens Lekman for his fellow Swedes the Tough Alliance to take the stage for the night's final show. I don't mind admitting I'd been waiting all week for this set.



This festival being the first time the Tough Alliance played the U.S., I had to be among the first Americans to get a glimpse of this genre-"redifining" live show. I asked Henning Fürst beforehand how he was feeling about their gigs; he dismissed nearly everything else at SXSW as "experimental" and "groundbreaking," promising me that I was in for "the most ordinary show you've ever seen." Well, once he pulled his tongue out of his cheek, he and Eric Burgland took to the pitch dark stage, music from last year's A New Chance pumping over the PA and a bizarre video projecting behind them.



Alternately shouting and leaping like chimps around the lighting rigs, swinging their mic stands (no mics, of course, necessary for lip-synching) like baseball bats, they shouted back and forth with the crowd for what felt like about five minutes. I'm told it was somewhere between 15 and 20, but regardless, it was far too short a blast of dancing and screaming and laughing. Redefine the live show? Yeah, maybe, in the same way that Girl Talk redefined the DJ set. Whatever exultant verbiage you want to use to describe it, the Tough Alliance were by far the least ordinary thing I saw all week.