Emo's is a large venue. So large, it has three entrances and four separate stages inside. The "Main Stage," where we entered to see Wolf & Cub, Emma Pollock, Beirut & The Mountain Goats is under a kind of lean-to roof; it's partially in and partially outside. Which is great when the heat of a thousand bodies mounts around you -- but kind of sucks when you can hear the noise of another show next door overlapping the show you're trying to see. But so it was, as the crowd began to swell and Aussie rockers Wolf & Club took the stage. Kerry and I stood back -- we actually found a seat -- and tried to preserve our energy.
Wolf & Cub
Part of a large contingent of Australian bands at SXSW this year, Wolf & Cub are a paired down, straight-up, rock 'n roll trio. Their stage show was simple: they buckled down, long hair swinging in their eyes, legs and arms swaying behind their instruments, and hit hard and thick power chords. Their music wasn't much different: each song was straightforward rock -- looping (and sometimes repetitive) vocal lines sung from the gut and sung loud. Not the most original sound or set, but one planted on solid musical ground. If drone rock is your thing, these guys make it in a fine manner. If it ain't, they won't be converting you any time soon.
Emma Pollock
When fellow Aussie, Emma Pollock, took the stage with her four-piece band, Emo's was full. Yet somehow, during her set, they fit even more people in. If there hadn't been loud music playing, surely the floors would have creaked.
However, such staggering capacity did not mean Emo's was prepared to put on a great rock show. Pollock played solid -- and at times phenomenally catchy -- rock tunes, but her stage presence was as dry as a bone. Throughout the entire set, she bickered with the sound technicians at the back of the house. More guitar, less keyboard, more vocals, less vocals, scowl, grimace, pout (such was her dance). If you closed your eyes and listened to her sultry singing, her slick backing band or the well-constructed tunes they were playing, you could enjoy the music. But if you looked up (as we often do while at live music performances) you would have seen a scowling lead singer with a hesitant band. They looked burdened. They looked bored. And it didn't make for the most compelling show. Which is really too bad; I very much liked her songs in spite of it all.
Beirut
When Emma Pollock left the stage, Kerry and I pushed ourselves as far forward and inward as we could. Shoulder to shoulder with what was becoming an increasingly smelly crowd (Beer, B.O. and Cigarette Smoke: the official scent of SXSW), we waited for 13 months for Beirut and his unruly band of boys to load their minimal equipment. Once on stage, the band that was 2006's Toast of the Music Blogs played a mostly cohesive 15 minute set. And then ran out of steam.
Opening with a wonderfully sweet ukulele and vocal solo piece, Beirut frontman Zach Condon announced he had just turned 21 and then proceeded to put on a childish show. Don't get me wrong, Beirut plays a fun style of music -- Old World, Eastern European sounds pushed through a hip indie filter -- but, as one member of the crowd mumbled during a pause in the set, watching them put on a show was like "attending band practise." Only some attendees had paid $600 to be there. And we weren't in a neighbors garage.
The heart of Beirut's music was good: the warbley, sometimes French vocals were in tune and heartfelt, the horn arrangements were spunky and catchy, the songs were inventive and fun. But the boys (and two girls) on stage didn't play as a cohesive group; they didn't seem to know who was leading the band. And as they jumped from one song to the next (they were surprised to discover they had more than 15 minutes to play -- oops!), they lost their focus and they got sloppy. One thing they did have was enthusiasm -- but good cheer alone does not make for great music. Their set just seemed unprofessional.
The Mountain Goats
Another few years later, and with an even more sore and decrepit body, we saw the The Mountain Goats take the stage. Led by the prolific singer-songwriter John Darnielle, The Mountain Goats are made up of just three men (drums and bass round out the trio). But you wouldn't know it by how full they sound. From the first chord forward, Darnielle had command both of his own instrument, his band and the crowd. His songs, which are a kind of rag-tag indie folk, are most impressive when they tell stories -- and he sang with enough clarity that you could follow along with most of the narratives he spun. Half the set was played on acoustic and the other half on electric -- but he swung his grinning head around and played with his thumping heart on his black-suited sleeve throughout. The Goats were, with ease, the strongest act that played Emo's that night -- and their tunes, arguably, were the most simple. While the crowd bucked and bleated along, Darnielle strummed and sung through a solid set and when their last note was struck, we were done for the evening. Such a solid offering could not not topped. Except by bed.