Tampa Calling

It took me a minute to readjust to driving on once-familiar roads and to which drawer the silverware was in, but I’m home. It’s my first day back at work, and I’ve re-told the stories countless times and am looking forward to doing it again next year. Plus, who knows, there’s always CMJ in October.

If you haven’t been following along, I suggest you read these posts in reverse order (1 – 9) and I’ll also be spending this week editing a ton of video from the bands and from Quincy Jones’ emotional keynote address. One especially tender moment I did not capture was a video tribute to Jones’ good friend Ray Charles that forced the legendary producer to turn away from the podium in tears. 

If there’s anything I learned from covering the entire week of South by, it’s a sentiment that was expressed by Mr. Jones (”Q” to his friends) and that is, “You’ve gotta go to know.”

I used to scoff at industry panels and workshops, but I’ve learned (and forgive me if I’m a little late to this party) that if you open yourself and participate, it’s not the panel that presents any new idea, it’s that you can have new ideas by participating in focused and elevated dialogue. Innovation is not handed to you at an industry conference, but it is born there.     

The 2009 Interactive Keynote with Virginia Heffernan and James Powderly.

And to the detractors at the NY Times that implied that marketing competed for attention with the music, I say, “that’s the point.” The parties would not exist without them. The bands themselves will soon be indebted to individual sponsors and be forced to sell ads around their liner notes.

And, finally, a shout out to all my new friends that I made in Austin: Travis McGuire (T. McG), Dave Schacherl, Monica Armmendariz, Sheppa, Iggy, Starsailor, Hannah (Montana), Logan Youree and Michael Bartnett at the Austin Chronicle, Amy Wanke at SXSW and to my old friends Chris Ledwith and Brian Austin (of Ivison). Thanks for everything guys. See you next time!

Around 3 p.m. yesterday, I caught Rec Center and King of Spain at the New Granada showcase at Ginger Man Pub. I grabbed a bite with Flee, Laura, John McNicholas as well as Scott Harrell and Mike Delach from the REAX crew. So awesome that the conference was bookended by Tampa-centric showcases. Maybe we can add a Mohawk Bomb showcase to the roster next year?

Unfortunately, I had to jet before Hankshaw took the stage in order to catch Flatstock by 6 p.m. Flatstock is a quarterly exhibit that features artists, concert posters and prints for sale. I got to meet Jared from Mexican Chocolate. I’m a big fan of this guy’s work for the Mars Volta and I picked up a couple more prints for my collection.

Now here’s where my heart starts beating. I left an hour early to ensure I got a good spot for PJ Harvey and John Parrish’s set at Stubbs. I got there in plenty of time - the Indigo Girls and Third Eye Blind fans had no interest whatsoever, so I was able to wriggle my way down front. The only downside – enduring an entire set by Razorlight. Wow.

PJ Harvey on stage at Stubb’s. Photo courtesy of Carol Copfer.

In a rare US appearance, Polly Jean Harvey took the stage looking like a straight-jacketed geisha, and delivered a set of mostly new material - at turns crying, laughing and screaming - one minute delivering lines like “there’s no more laughter in the garden,” with a tiny, childlike voice and the next, snarling “stick it up your fucking ass,” with an empowered roar. The crowd responded with riotous screams and applause, and she humbly, quietly thanked them each time. When she announced that the next song would be their last, the audience loudly protested, and she tried to explain that everyone was being kept to strict time slots. To the chants of “come back soon,” she had no reply.

Afterward, I ran into John Barker and Jennie from MerchGirl. They were headed down an alleyway to catch the DJ duo L.A. Riots. They asked if I’d like to tag along, but I was still a bit shellshocked from the whole PJ Harvey thing and needed to walk it off in the night air for a bit.

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“What a diff’rence a day makes” – María Méndez Grever

The music portion of SXSW has begun and Austin is infested with indie rockers, scenesters, hipsters and musicians from all over the world. The snarky t-shirts and iPhones of the interactive and film portion have been replaced with leather, tight pants and guitar cases. And they’re everywhere.

Try to imagine if every bar, club and art gallery in Tampa and St. Pete tented their parking lots and had full concert lineups on indoor and outdoor stages for 6 straight days. It’s a lot to take in. Not to mention, the stimulation of the local economy here – from stage and equipment rental to groceries and clothing – is staggering.

These Arms Are Snakes at Red Eye Fly. More photos after the jump.

There are many methods of navigating the music portion of “South by.” You can meticulously plot your path, you can wander from bar to bar (if you have a wristband or a badge) or you can do a combination of both. Modes of transport can include car (shout out to Monica Armendazzle), cab, bus, shuttle, bike (they ought to rent these), rickshaw, horse-and-buggy, and finally your own two feet. 

Ivan is in town now, as well as some folks from Creative Loafing Atlanta, so we’ve been coordinating via text. This has worked to avoid overlap and to catch wind of “secret” parties such as last night’s Playboy Party held in a warehouse on E. 12th in which Jane’s Addiction played a surprise hour-long set. Word on the street is that Metallica will be doing a similar stunt tonight to promote their new Guitar Hero game. We’ll see.

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