March was a mad, mad month in all of its sweat-soaked, cuckoo competitive, my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours glory–and no, the madness to which we’re referring does not involve that whole college basketball playoff thing. It’s SXSW mania, bitches! The 23-year-old Austin festival has ripened from a wee little anonymous Texas toddler to a full-grown star in the pop-cultural firmament whose sultry glory and ever-extending influence can only be ignored by card-carrying members of the AARP.
But like the best celebrities, SXSW seems impervious to all of the attention, and has managed to maintain the spirit of a cool little indie fest, while simultaneously attracting every expense-account touting suit in the industry, tout le musical monde spanning every conceivable genre (everyone from Metallica to Erykah Badu to Micachu and the Shapes staged a show) and, of course, thousands of rabid fans.
The lovely economic slump we’re ensconced in and the general “Uh-oh WTF is going on now that the Internets are here?” vibe the industry’s been dealing with left the artists and fans as ready to chillax as the party’s hosts.
Below, five clips of artists dispensing tips to achieve tranquility now (no prescriptions or dudes who know dudes who can get you this stuff required).
5. Amazing Baby: Just Cinch It
Unlike, say, Vanilla Ice, The Goo Goo Dolls or Hootie and the Blowfish, folktronica punkers Amazing Baby actually deliver what they’re nominally sellin’. Lush, epic, hybridized and glamorama without needing eyeliner, Amazing Baby dishes out the kind of incandescent tunes that would make any momma proud.
And they’re all about the ladies–in a totally non-creepy way–which is something a gal likes to see. Let’s hire some fancy scientists to analyze the substance in those little bottles they’re drinking, because I can’t remember the last time I saw, heard about, read about or even dared to imagine five hot young men–accomplished artistes who live in Brooklyn, no less–sensitively discussing the importance of comfort for recently pregnant women.
Their sage advice? “Get a belt and cinch it.” It being a mumu, caftan, smock or adult onesie. After all, it’s what Santa wears. Check out their wisdom, prudence and panache below.
4. Thunderheist: Mom Boobs
Dance-rap funsters Thunderheist stormed SXSW with their infectious, sexy, electro-disco-drama and wicked funk stiletto-tapping beats. On their MySpace page the duo claims their influences include Red Bull vodka, French boys, dirty dirty synths and Asian chicks…with bangs! And you can totally hear it in their joyful sonic exploitation of good old fashioned hedonistic fun.
Despite their laissez-faire approach to life and love, they have their limits, dammit! And as self-proclaimed professional thunder-stealers, I’m guessing they’re a force to be reckoned with. I pity the fool who–uninvited–unveils her boobies in front of these two. Check out the two kicking back, soaking up some Austin sun and laying down some ground rules re: mom boobage.
3. Little Boots: Stress Relief
A good bartender always has a theory on which forms of hooch will mesh best with whichever personality disorder you appear to be suffering from on that particular night–or day. (Depressed? Vermouth with an orange twist! Heartbroken? Double shot of tequila! Anxious? Irish car bomb!) Evidently there are more constructive forms of stress relief out there, however.
And while SXSWers apparently weren’t in need, maybe now that everyone’s home again Little Boots’ tips will help. According to the chipper, pixie-ish electro pop Dr. Boots, if you’re totally pissed off, bang it out with some tizzy-friendly Beethoven. Merely angsty? Go with the semi-harrowed Chopin. Generally okay but in need of a little soothing topper? The debonair Debussy’s your man. Check out the method to her madness.
2. Operahouse: SXSW is as American as it Gets
London-dwellers the Operahouse–and yes, like the place for which they’re named, they, too, feature soaring choruses, sweeping music, emotive lyrics, et al–are in many ways as British as it gets. They’re all pale, dark-haired, vaguely androgynous, cynical, charmingly befuddled, street smart but polite and would look really quite charming dressed in women’s clothes (just ask Mick Jagger, it’s totally a British thing).
But they seem to be getting a solid handle on what it takes to make for a laid-back afternoon in the U.S. of A. Get some pals, pile into an enclosed little space (preferably outfitted with exposed brick), grab some brews and plot an outing involving the desert, ribs, chickens, the blues, lots of bands and shooting a bunch of crap with guns.
1. An Horse: When Animals Attack
Any master of relaxation knows that part of the high art being comfortable is knowing how to accurately avoid, stymie and dispel any sources of distress, the top offender generally being…fear. What’s more loathsome and unpleasant than pointless trepidation?
The cute (almost) to a fault Australian power pop duo with a grimy, grunge underbelly An Horse had quite a debut. Their album is comfort itself, without being boring and passé, like your ex. Reminiscent of alt-coffee shop ’90s vulnerability but looking forward with a smirk and just a hint of snarl, these two know succor when they see it, and they know how to stare down a decidedly un-SXSWy case of the heebie-jeebies.
Take sharks and crocodiles. Enough with this shark-fear bullcrap they say–if you’re going to spend you’re spare time, palms a-sweat, skin be-goose-bumped and tummy a-flutter over an animal attack, you may as well kvetch over crocodiles, who, btw, will totally suffocate and squeeze you until you’re immobile but still alive (keeps the meat fresh!), stash you in a mangrove, go off and shed a few croc tears before returning to finish you off.
But you know what? Really? You should just fucking chillax.
TOPICS: Queequeg