The beating heart of SXSW music festival
CRITIC'S NOTEBOOK
Austin's South by Southwest sings. And it whispers of industry fears, Next Big Thing dreams and the solid comfort of music's dogged middle class.
AUSTIN, Texas -- At times, this year's South by Southwest Music Conference felt like Rome burning. Sometimes it felt like something being born. And much of the time, it felt like pop music culture as usual -- striving artists, supportive or indifferent listeners, and plenty of talk about cash and creativity, everything blurring within the sound bleed of an unabsorbable number of performances.
More than 1,700 acts tried to get noticed over five days -- and that's just what was happening on the 80 participating stages. A whole second festival of unofficial, semiprivate parties gave several of the long weekend's most anticipated acts a chance to impress crowds several times, ultimately taking much of the buzz out of any one performance. SXSW (as the fest is known) has broken many acts since its inception in 1987, but this year it offered hot new flavors that most attendees had already sampled via the Internet, enhancing young reputations rather than cementing them.
A couple of new artists got tongues wagging. She & Him, the urbane retro-pop band featuring actress-singer Zooey Deschanel and troubadour M. Ward, endeared itself to many at its various gigs. Young Welsh soul belter Duffy made her first U.S. appearances, charming many with her bedroom-mirror moves and bold, brassy voice.
Swedish dance-pop auteur Robyn covered Prince and shone on her own new songs at Perez Hilton's fancy party. Peace Corps preppies Vampire Weekend played too, though the band's recent "Saturday Night Live" appearance had already put it past the point of Next Big Thing.
There is no one Next Big Thing in pop right now, and that's a little confusing. The dissolution of major label and corporate radio-based models is in full swing. The doomsaying at many of SXSW's business-oriented panels felt almost habitual after several years of industry unraveling.
Distractions
More interesting was the contradictory sense of celebration, even hope, that attended the anguish. The underlying question of how anyone (musicians as well as record executives) can make money as old structures tumble became a hum beneath the 10,000 voices busily promoting new businesses or artistic projects. The presence of branded sponsors also distracted. How bad could things be if you could get a free Fuze vitamin drink in the morning and a 10 Cane Rum shot at night?
