Into The SXSW

Normally before one visits the USA it is essential to gird one's loins in preparation for the relentless talking-up of everything and everyone (except Saddam Hussein). It's the American way and it can become wearisome after a few hours. But this year the Irish contingent for the 13th annual SXSW convention flew into an Austin, Texas to be met with an uncharacteristic dose of local negativity that must have made them feel as if they'd mistakenly arrived back in Temple Bar.

Seemingly it's been a poor year for Austin, and many seemed less interested in partying like it's 1999 than in brooding over the recent setbacks to the local music scene. Nowhere was this morose attitude more evident than when talking to the local media. Nobody told the whole sad tale more graphically than Chris Riemenschneider, a staff writer with the Austin American-Statesman. One of the city's main venues, the legendary Liberty Lunch, is being bulldozed out of existence to make way for some corporate development. Clifford Antone, who gives his name to the even more legendary Antone's venue and record label, is about to be banged up in the slammer for trafficking tons of marijuana. When Afghan Whigs played in Austin, Greg Dulli was done over by a local bouncer, leading to the cancellation of the band's tour and bringing opprobrium on the heads of all Austinites.

There's worse. One of the mainstays of the Texan country rock scene, Joe Ely, lost his MCA record deal and nobody was trampled in the rush for his signature. Local heroes like Willie Nelson and Jimmie Dale Gilmore are failing to make themselves relevant to a younger generation for the first time ever. Spoon and Sixteen Deluxe, highly-regarded pop-rock bands with many local hopes riding on them, were signed by Warners and Elektra and dropped within months (Sound familiar?).

Then came the Fastball catastrophe. These local stars enjoyed a platinum-selling album and much exposure on all the key television shows. But their much-heralded homecoming gig attracted a less than triumphant attendance of only 400. Meanwhile Arista Records closed its local operation, as did several other local indie labels. It was such a sorry saga it made me feel quite at home.

So maybe that's why the Irish contingent made an even bigger impression than last year.

The Irish band showcase night at the Copper Tank attracted a substantial crowd who lapped up the music on offer with even more relish than they applied to the bar's own brews. Blink, Beach and Brilliant Trees made the keenest impression, and it can have been no coincidence that they were also the bands who worked their collective asses off on the IMRO-sponsored stand in the main exhibition hall. That this gig should have attracted a full house is all the more remarkable given that Beth Orton, Leon Russell, Willie Nelson and the Doug Sahm Band were playing just a short walk away.

Beach were as crisp and clean as a new shirt, and proved they can be two fine bands in one, either when they play their "Misunderstood"-brand of Britpop or when they go all Kula Shaker on songs like 'Black Out'.

Blink are now exemplars of the indie route. Eschewing all truck with major labels after their experiences with EMI, they are far too busy getting on with the business of touring around the US and recording their third album. When they rampaged through such stage-killers as "Would You Kill For Love" and "Fundamentally Loveable Creature" they even tempted locals away from a crucial basketball match on the telly in the front lounge. In "Baby You Broke My Heart" they make falling in love seem as attractive as wearing a vest made from barbed wire, while on "Planet Made of Rain" vocalist Dermot Lambert comes on like a Dylan on helium and drummer Barry Campbell muppets furiously behind his drum kit like a demented Kermit. Blink prove that gigging, writing, working and recording are where it's at, not plotting deal scams with labels who 'll drop you as fast as you can blink (doh!).

Brilliant Trees also took their particular brand of strident pop-rock to the people and the people said "yes". They were consequently the subject of much fevered inquiries at the IMRO Stand the following day. Meanwhile Medium Wave, who opened the showcase, seemed sadly lost amid it all, delivering a set that comprised of ordinary, pedestrian, loud rock saying little of interest that Power Of Dreams hadn't said ten years ago, and had many folks wondering why they bothered.

Meanwhile the showcase for Irish solo acts (all female as it happened) was as joyful as the bands' night out. Nina Hynes created the biggest rumbling with her fey Sinéad O'Connor vocals and songs that reach the parts Enya doesn't even know exist. Leslie Dowdall, after a shaky start soundwise, effortlessly won the crowd over and even had them singing along to such instant poptastic originals as "Freedom" and "Wonderful Thing". As soon as she finished, the enthusiastic local sharing the bar with me promptly headed stagewards to buy any recordings Dowdall had with her.

Later came Limerick's Siobhan O'Brien who scored big with her intelligent songs, despite underusing her skills on the harmonica. O'Brien had been equally impressive on the acoustic soundstage the previous day where Kevin Doherty also put his name on a ticket for future big-time status.

Visitors to the IMRO stand included the Phoenix, Arizona rock band Six-Point Restraint and Mike Harding, former hitmaker with "Rochdale Cowboy" in 1975, who was there to record a two-hour radio special on SXSW for BBC Radio 2. His visit reminded us that none of our four national radio stations were represented at what is a major international showcase for contemporary Irish talent. Did they even know the event was taking place? Luckily, however, St Patrick's Day junkets elsewhere meant we were spared the presence of some government minister on the make for a photo-op.

Meanwhile, you could stroll around Austin and bump into Kieran Goss, there to chase up deals rather than to perform, or country guitarist Stephen Bruton, who had fond memories of playing Dublin in 1972 with Kris Kristofferson. You could relax to a lounge jazz trio here or a death metal outfit two doors away.

A trip to SXSW serves as a reminder of the sheer vastness of the music industry and the number of acts out there looking for deals of one kind or another. If SXSW presents any problem for its 10,000 visitors it's deciding who not to see. There are about 800 acts in town and some play up to four gigs over the five days, so it's usually only possible to sample a few. How much of your life can you sacrifice, say, for those mad Japanese metal bands who seem to treat music as a weapon of mass destruction?

But there would be no organised Irish invasion without the organisational skills and effort beyond the call of duty put in by Una Johnston and Lisa Tinley from Carpe Diem Productions and without the financial support of IMRO, ably represented again this year by Eoin Colley. IMRO, along with Hot Press, made possible the 16-track CD sampler of new Irish talent which was quite clearly the equal of anything on offer from any other stand.

As for my own personal memories, there was the magnificent Tom Waits gig at the Paramount Theatre, with the man quite clearly revelling in his return to good health and live performance. There was also that morning spent sipping coffee through a straw with Mojo Nixon after too many margaritas. He also introduced a band called Flock U'll Hillbillies who then proceeded to apply a glorious punk strategy to such classics as "Stepping Stone" and whose basic philosophy seemed to be that turning up was far more important than tuning up.

And then it was home, to hear more of the local whinging I'd heard too much of in Austin.