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Live @ SXSW: Ghosthustler, The Slits, Bun B… Or Not. March 13, 2008

Posted by Natalia Ciolko in Concert, Hip-hop, Indie Rock, Photo, SXSW, Uncategorized.
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The Gorilla vs. Booze party was at the Peacock, an east 6th venue with a nice turquoise décor theme and a tiny ballroom for the cramming of bodies. As mortals are doomed to err, the 2:30 Ghosthustler performance didn’t take off until near 4 p.m. The band was plagued with technical difficulties both before and during the performance but the lead singer seemed to be having no technical difficulty in leading his one-man army of booty shake. Video would not kill this radio star, ladies, he’s pretty foxy but he doesn’t look old enough to be legal. Ghosthustler’s unglamorous Denton roots are thoroughly shed by their convincing moog wizardry and sly facial hair, but I think this group still has some tightening up to do before we can call them fully baked.

Here is a fable about what happens to spoiled young rabbits who sleep on couches: they get free drinks.

After the Cool Kids performance, I felt pretty sapped of the energy that lots of sips from the flask will give you and I was feeling nappy. I ambled down sixth street, looking for refuge when I received a digital telegram offering drinks and food at no charge at Union Park. It was easy enough to get in, the drinks truly were free, free, free and so was the calamari… However, the most alluring aspect of the set-up was neither of the former but rather the fine Italian leather sofas calling out to the weary body. I set up shop on a vacant, full-length affair and before I knew it, I was cruising into R.E.M. territory. (Don’t wake me up for their performance tomorrow, please.) After only a few cloudy moments of bliss I was being tapped, tapped, tapped on the shoulder, ma’am please get up I, we, we can’t have this going on in here. You would have thought I was up to something more sinister with the type of language they were using but either way the dream was over. I hit up another free drink, a quesadilla and then I was out, off to see… Kidz in the Hall.

–Kidz in the hall— Look for it from Reggie.

Percee P, I just don’t know what went wrong but I just couldn’t get into it… About 15 minutes into the act I went off in search of the Killer Slits, who were up to no good, as usual. I wasn’t in Beerland for 10 minutes before I saw Ari Up moon the crowd! Her hair was like the opera diva’s in the Fifth Element, holla back if you love that movie like I do. It looks like the new band members have gotten more comfortable since the last time they played in Austin, and that little drummer girl is seriously sick.

Rejoined my fellow blogger Reggie at Habana Annex and saw a few moments of Sean Price whose performance looked promising. (Sean, I’m diggin the hat)

We had to leave that show pretty early to go try and catch Bun B, which turned out to be a fiasco in and of itself. Basically, the front door was crowded from either side by Sharks on one side, Jets on the other. The Sharks had been patient—some even standing on the sidewalk waiting to get in since 10 p.m. for a 1 a.m. show, but they were working with a lost cause from the start. The Jets, much fewer in number, were either generally disgruntled or actively making a scene about their press credential/badge/wristbander rights. The doorman was steadfastly denying access to any and all people waiting at the door, and that no-go status was only further confirmed when a rowdy fight broke out inside. Doubly so when the cops, six deep, showed up and scattered both the Sharks and the Jets. Sorry folks no access tonight.

 

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