SXSW 2008: Waiting for My Man Man

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Express contributor Katherine Silkaitis is blogging from the SXSW Music Festival; this is her third posting, and she'll wrap up her stay in Austin on Monday.

THERE'S A BIT OF AWE associated with being in the presence of Lou Reed.

Watching him at Thursday's keynote address, it was hard to get over the fact that this is a man who helped change rock 'n' roll the world over. Hell, he has an ol' adage associated with him: Not many people bought Velvet Underground records way back when, but every single person who did formed a band.

But Lou Reed is a crotchety old man.

The hour-long session, which was an interview Q&A with record producer Hal Wilner, was worth attending because Reed, of course, had a few interesting stories to tell, and hearing him recite a verse of "Rock Minuet" was surreal.

But he was also really unhappy with someone whose cell phone went off. (Paraphrased: "Don't people know how to turn off their cell phones? How do you say that in Texan: 'Howdy? Please shove it up a cow's ass?'") And the rapport with the Wilner was just plain awkward, with long pauses between statements and questions as though neither one knew if the other was done speaking.

However, given the outright mutiny that occurred during the SXSW Interactive Festival's keynote evening with Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg, SXSW Music organizers were probably pretty pleased with Reed's performance.

After the early-morning headbutt from Reed, the rest of my day was a blur of concerts and parties.

A number of D.C. bands congregated in Austin for a "D.C. Does Texas" showcase; unfortunately, the venue was two miles from everything else so the crowd was mostly people from D.C. Traveling to Texas to see bands from the District — good times. But I did see Georgie James and Le Loup play, and both were impressive.

On Thursday I also saw Portugal. The Man again, and enjoyed it every bit as much as before. Then I headed over to see Man Man. And man, oh, man: I was shocked at the crowd size. I didn't think anyone besides Philly peeps really knew or cared about their hometown Man Man, but I was wrong. The audience was big and going nuts for the group. After managing to steal a spot with a tiny view of the stage, I was waiting to be wowed by the group's theatrical spazz rock. But after an interminable while, I had to admit: I don't really get the group. So I jetted.

Next stop: Jay Reatard, on the advice of a friend. For some reason, I had it in my mind Reatard, a recent signee to Matador Records, would be a U.S. Maple-type experimental art-rock artist. Or, you know, like Man Man. I have no idea why I had that impression, especially because Reatard played straight-up punk, with two-minute songs, unintelligible lyrics and long, long hair. Locks of Love would love to get their hands on these kids.

We stayed for the next band, Dark Meat — mmmm, KFC ... sorry, happens every time — and what a sight it was to see. The Athen, Ga., group's shtick was pure spectacle, as musicians in the many-personed band wore Indian costumes, a marching band outfit, a fur vest, face paint and God knows what else. They threw out bouncy balls, glow sticks and confetti to the crowd, too.

Luckily, Dark Meat was also pretty good. The group's psychedelic Southern rock was fast and energetic — and any band that uses two trumpets is good in my book.

Last up for me was Jens Lekman, the adorable Swedish indie popper. As with Man Man's gig, this was a packed show — though this time it was entirely justified. He's so endearing and twee, without any negative connotations those words might conjure. Lekman sang crowd-pleasing songs of romance and melancholy while his band provided the strings and samples.

Notice that I did not get to see my beloved Del tha Funky Homosapien, or N.E.R.D., or the Lou Reed tribute concert, all of which were in my original plans for the day. But it's OK: sometimes you got to take a walk on the wild side, man.

Lou Reed photo by Getty Images; Le Loup (middle) and Dark Meat photos by Katherine Silkaitis