South by Southwest is both every music fans wet dream and living nightmare. The dream? 900 bands over four days in venues stretching the length and breadth of sunny Austin, here to showcase themselves, to impress the hundreds of labels, publishers, punters, managers and media that descend on the town, to try blow away the inevitable gig fatigue that sets in on the observers and to prove themselves worthy of the extra attention and push. And the nightmare? To try fit them all in.

The first highlight of the festival comes in the form of a truly special Frames showcase. The setting, the Scottish Rite Theatre, is a freemason hall complete with a tuxed-up gent and ball-gowned lady to greet the attendees as they enter. For 30 minutes – on a souped-up town hall stage and under a pair of golden eagles – Hansard and Co enthral, entertain and enchant. Kicking off with Plateau, the 7 song set is long enough to give the audience an inkling of the power, the charm and the skill of the band but short enough to be a blunt attack that leaves them curious for more. Austin doesn’t so much buzz about the gig on subsequent days as reverberate. “A band to watch” I keep overhearing…

From the Frames it’s a quick sprint to La Privilege, where Belfast’s Spree and Roo Nation are spearheading the drum’n’bass assault on the traditionally more rock dominated SXSW. Having put the work in beforehand promoting the gig, the bands’ reward is a respectable turnout largely composed of Austin’s local (and considerably excited) d’n’b heads. More than upping the ante for the occasion, Spree are on storming form. A delightfully up set, the funkiest bass and sweetest soulful vocals leave more than a few converts in their wake. Truthfully Roo Nation’s less hectic set would’ve worked better before Spree. Not as conducive to mass dancing action, their more chilled take doesn’t appear to incite the same level of response. An unfortunate case of “how do you follow that?”

Juliet Turner isn’t having an easy time convincing the crowd of her charms in Mother Egans. The unavoidable situation in a showcasing scenario like SXSW, is that bands get minimal turnaround time to sort out gear and sound is borne good naturedly by most artists. Turner however can’t seem to let this go and during her set constantly labours the soundman with various niggles. This irritating between-and-during-song wrangling, which serves only to disrupt the flow of the set, is only surpassed in the upsetting stakes by her insistence at reminding the audience at every opportunity that her name is Juliet Turner and that she has a double platinum album in Ireland.

As for the music, Turner’s performance is undoubtedly slick and professional yet ultimately uninspirational. On a baltic evening with a evil wind blowing through the outdoor venue the heart is left unwarmed. In spite of her spectacular success at home, Turner needs to remember the work that went into building that fan base and cannot assume it will be easily transplanted overseas – especially to Austin where female songstresses are two a penny.

Ash on the other hand are in the US for the duration – likely dedicating the remainder of the year to winning over the yanks. They may be chalking up awards and hits at an alarming rate one side of the pond but in the States they’ve yet to even release Free All Angels.

Taking in Texas as part of a four night jaunt that includes a sold out Bowery Ballroom show in NY, they’re a band that have quite dramatically refound their form. Never the most technically perfect live band, what they lack in steadiness they make up for with bucketloads of balls, songs and sheer sexiness. Tim Wheeler – looking more like Trent Reznor with every passing week – executes a 40-minute set with extreme prejudice. Numbskull and Lose control run alongside bona fide pop gems Shining Light and Burn Baby Burn. Genuinely smile inducing proof – if it was ever needed – that great songs can still be written around 3 chords.