Hey nowwwwww! How’s my peeps? Huh? What’s that? Who am I? Well, um, I’m Jon. I’m the guy who built this place. You know, the hip, cool, oh-so-talented writer dude who, uh, never writes anything? Why, you were expecting someone else? You’ve been what? Sleeping here? Yeah, I suppose it has been pretty quiet. Well, I hate to disturb you, but, uh, it’s time for you to shove off. Sorry ’bout that. You could always shuffle on over to my friend Tara’s blog. Check out those entry dates; chances are, you won’t be bothered until after the next presidential election!

Tara, by the way, is an Austin, Texas-based writer, and one of my cohorts at LiveDaily. I had no idea when I started this entry that I’d be using her as my segue into a long-overdue rundown of this year’s South by Southwest trip, but I recently discovered that she had linked her blog to mine, and just now, on a whim, decided to repay that favor by publicly taunting her for posting with even less frequency than I do. You’re welcome!

So, anyhoo, yes, the LiveDaily gang made its annual, mid-March pilgrimage to Austin for this year’s SXSW music conference, which I was going to blog about while in Austin, but didn’t, and was going to blog about on the plane ride back to Boston, but didn’t, and then figured I’d blog about within the first couple of days after I returned home, but didn’t. And so on and so forth, and a few other things I’ll write about in a separate entry, and here we are.

This year’s SXSW? Big improvement over last year’s experience. Firstly, we booked our hotel far enough in advance that, instead of ending up at a rundown Holiday Inn a mile outside of town alongside a highway, we were back at the lovely Omni Downtown Austin. The Four Diamond accomodations were definitely a change for the better.

Also, after years of flying Continental Airlines to Austin, which requires a plane change in Houston, I went with JetBlue—which, I was thrilled to discover, flies nonstop to Austin from Boston. Since I’m a control freak who hates having to rely on someone else to safely transport me from one place to another by way of a giant, aluminum tube traveling at 450-miles-per-hour five miles above the earth’s surface, the less taking off and landing I have to do, the better. The only drawback was that I kinda figured I’d be getting a little breakfast on a four-hour, 6 a.m. flight, but was only offered a “snack.” I scanned their snack list for something breakfasty, and settled on the almond biscotti (I have no idea what almond biscotti is, but I pictured it to be a sort of coffeecake-like substance—and, hey, who doesn’t like coffeecake?). Here’s how that went:

Flight attendant: Would you like a snack?

Me: Yes, the almond biscotti, please.

Flight attendant: I’m sorry, we have a peanut allergy on board, so we only have chips or snack mix.

Me: Wait a second. Lemme make sure I understand you: There’s one person on this packed flight who is allergic to peanuts (which, by the way, aren’t almonds), so we all have to have potato chips for breakfast? Are you shitting me? Tell you what: how ’bout this instead? How ’bout that one person makes sure he or she doesn’t eat anything with peanuts in it, and the rest of us will go ahead and get on with our snack-of-choice lives?

OK, so, that last passage of dialogue attributed to me? That never happened. What I actually did was think all of that stuff, grimace and say, “I guess I’ll just have the chips.” I then begrudgingly consumed a baggy of what turned out to be blue potato chips (JetBlue, see? Get it?) for breakfast! And then I died.

Fortunately, I arrived at the Omni early enough to consume what would be the first of many delicious breakfasts they would serve me, and all was right in the world.

Equally as nice as the upgrade from last year’s accommodations was the fact that we were again staying in the middle of the downtown area, so most of the shows I covered were just a short distance from the hotel.

And among those shows were [click on artist names to read my review of each show]:

• The Hourly Radio, a group I hadn’t heard of until I found them on the SXSW website while trying to decide which shows to hit. The MP3 sample that they’d posted at the site sounded good to me, so I took a chance. I’m glad I did. They are fanflippingtastic.
• The Blacklist and Sissy Wish. The former didn’t leave much of an impression, but the latter is probably worth another look.
• Thomas Dolby—yes, that Thomas Dolby. The “Blinded Me With Science” dude. You see, SXSW is predominantly a place for acts most people have never heard of before to ply their wares. Me? I’m mostly a “Hey, I know that one!” kind of guy, so I decided to check in on Mr. Dolby primarily due to the name recognition, and also because I am a tech geek who was interested in seeing what a fellow tech geek—who also happens to be rich, famous and talented—does on stage. Surprisingly fun.
• Public Enemy … as in, Public motherfucking Enemy. Chuck D, Flavor Flav, live, outside, in the capital of the state of Texas, leading a crowd of thousands in a chant of “Fuck George Bush,” and playing some positively head-bobbing, ass-shaking, fist-pumping, hip-hop classics. Throw in a pair of 48-ounce Foster’s oil cans, and you know this was a trip highlight. Yeeeahhhhh, boy-eeeee.
• Satellite Party, the new group featuring Jane’s Addiction frontman Perry Farrell, who I originally was to have interviewed in person prior to the show, but who one day earlier decided to cancel all interviews. Damn. (I did, however, have a telephone interview with Mr. Farrell last week, which I’ll be posting in podcast form sometime in the next few weeks. Stay tuned.) Nonetheless, the show—which took place at the ever-awesome Stubb’s BBQ, site of last year’s “secret” Beastie Boys show—rocked. [The show also provided this year’s second annual “Jon’s SXSW Starfucker Moment™”: In addition to Perry Farrell, Satellite Party also features former Extreme guitarist extraordinaire Nuno Bettencourt. I am a fan of Mr. Bettencourt’s work, and friends with former Extreme/former Van Halen singer Gary Cherone. Those two facts, coupled with the aforementioned pair of 48-ounce Foster’s oil cans I consumed during Public Enemy’s performance—as well as the Jack Daniel’s on the rocks and Dos Equis brewski I consumed during Satellite Party’s performance—somehow compelled me to say “Hello” to Nuno outside Stubb’s after the show.
  

  Me: Hey, Nuno, my name’s Jon Zahlaway. I’m a friend of Gary’s. I write for LiveDaily.com.

  Nuno: Hey, cool. Nice to meet you, Jon.

  Me: Thanks. Great set. It was cool to see you playing your old G4. [Editor’s note: Nuno, during the Satellite Party show, was playing a Washburn guitar that he has been playing since his days with Extreme. The guitar is identifiable because of a pair of large metallic stickers on its face that read “N4.”]

  Nuno: Yeah, uh, N4, actually. G4 is a computer.

  Me: Did I say G4? Ha ha. Well, I am an Apple guy. Yeah, N4. Well, it was nice to meet you. I’d stay and chat, but I have a Douchebags Anonymous meeting to get to.

  Alright, so I didn’t actually say the “Douchebags Anonymous” part, but it was implied. Anyway …

• The Nightwatchman, a.k.a. former (current?) Rage Against the Machine/former Audioslave guitarist Tom Morello, who put on a particularly enjoyable solo-acoustic performance in a church, of all places. The best part? The church was practically attached to my hotel. Gotta love a commute like that. [Incidentally, Mr. Morello was almost the target of another “Jon’s SXSW Starfucker Moment™” when I noticed that he and I were standing in parallel lines waiting for breakfast at an airport fast-food joint the morning after his show. I decided to let him eat the most important meal of the day in peace.]

In addition to hitting some great shows, one of this year’s biggest SXSW highlights was the LiveDaily co-sponsored party at Antone’s. There were some excellent bands playing (including rocking Swedish act Mando Diao), a huge crowd—and, for us LiveDaily folks, free drink tickets. Good times.

Here’s a shot of me at the party with my longtime LiveDaily partners-in-crime, Rob and Richard (l. to r.), both of whom live and work on the West Coast.

After seven years of working together, I believe it is the only photographic proof that the three of us have ever been in the same place at the same time.

As if all of that wasn’t enough to rock my socks off, Rob treated Tara and I to a SXSW-finale dinner at the ever-posh-and-delicious Roy’s, where I ordered far too much sushi, and ended up donating much of it to a wayward band and their crew, who returned the favor by treating us to a round of some delicious Patron tequila. That, my friends, is the loving spirit of SXSW.

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