The hoarseness of my voice and the sniffles in my nose mean I've done it again: four consecutive days and nights of drinking and smoking, while watching 35 or so bands, and shouting while doing said drinking and smoking.Yes, they call it SXSW.
Let's examine the links, shall we? The overview; the Spit Brothers; The DreadBass Soundsystem; Eprom; more photos; Rogue Wave; The Mother Hips; The Heavenly States; Mistah F.A.B., the Jacka and The Pack; Speedwolf; Serengeti; Tamaryn; plus the unstoppable Smoky Robinson opening for Sharon Jones (pictured, above) and that's just the stuff I've already written about. Not bad, eh?
You'd be amazed how many music writers and editors weren't there, though. Major names for major publications couldn't make it, ostensibly because their publisher has no dough. A mass culling is upon music journalism. Those that made it to Austin this year were the survivors, the scrappers, the independent operators like me: who do it on the cheap, and with the help of Craigslist. Thanks to the East Bay Express for fronting some dough for this project and Hummingbird Ink for the hospitality. More post-SXSW news to come.
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Wired ran a profile this month on Scott Weaver, penned by me. I'm stoked to be able to tell this story for the mag, and the photos and video are simply incredible. I smile every time I see Weaver's work.
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Plentii ran my piece on How Gen Y is the next great Civic Generation. Optimistic stuff.
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The first doctor in California to lose his license for recommending cannabis earned himself a feature by me. Turns out he was a perv to boot.
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And I report on how the UC Berkeley Art Museum planned to spend $200 million demolishing an historic landmark, only to reconsider the plan when funding never showed up. A Great Recession sparing a Depression-era building from the wrecking ball? That's called poetry, people.
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It's the second day of Spring in San Francisco, which is the best time of the year here. The flowers are blooming. The days are long again. And I hope all ya'll are feeling less congested than I am.
