popwreckoning

Our entire day at Warped Tour could be summed up quite simply: tons of circle pits and really fucking HOT.

But before we move further, we would like to send our condolences to the friends and family of the 26 year old who passed away at Warped Tour that day. We are very shocked and saddened by this heartbreaking news.

We arrived at Sandstone around 11 a.m.; for the next few hours, we were spoiled with air conditioning in the press area.

We had confirmed interviews with a few bands prior to the show but ended up talking with many more, so the majority of what you’ll hear on PodWreck is us winging it – it made things interesting to say the least.

The bands we were lucky enough to talk to: Andrew W.K., Four Year Strong, Every Time I Die, the Dillinger Escape Plan, Closure in Moscow, After Midnight Project, Disco Curtis, Vanna and Of Mice and Men.

We caught some of Closure in Moscow’s performance on the Ernie Ball Stage. Chris (vocals) promised to be dressed in costume, despite the 100 degree weather – he was not lying. With black makeup covering his eyes and a metallic gold cape, he hit the high notes while dancing around stage – and the fans loved it.

But we had to make our way over to the Teggart Stage because Dillinger was also playing during that time and we’ve heard shit gets crazy.

Some people were dancing and the band was precise, but the heat seemed to be affecting most of the crowd, not just for Dillinger but for almost every performance we watched.

Andrew W.K. was up next and since we’ve never seen him before, we were pumped and ready. He brought a lot of energy and of course, the party. He announced Cherie Lily, his wife, as a new singer in his band. When Andrew was busy pounding away on the piano, she kept the party going with fist pumps and “hey’s.” The crowd loved it and pumped their fists back to the stage.

They also gave away free “merch” – the t-shirt off of Cherie’s back, the t-shirt off of Andrew’s back, and an Andrew W.K. air freshener and lighter. One person got on a friends’ shoulders and Andrew said that’s why they deserved free gifts; soon, there were people on shoulders everywhere.

It was everything a rock show should be: energetic, over the top, crowd-moving fun.

We decided to take a rest in order to keep going – did we mention it was fucking HOT?

We waited in the shade until Set Your Goals started their set at the Altec Stage. It seemed they warmed the crowd up for Four Year Strong, who played right after them.

The crowd was huge for FYS, by far the biggest we had seen that day and probably the most active. There was an abundance of crowd surfing, dancing and circle pits, and they never slowed down.

They played a mixture of songs from their first and latest record, plus a few covers (one from their second CD, Explains It All).

Since it was their last day on tour, FYS and the crowd seemed to give it all they had.

Many of the other bands also showed their love for FYS by coming on stage to help sing the chorus to “Wasting Time (Eternal Summer).”

We really wanted to stay and watch Every Time I Die but frankly, we were tired and over it.

As we walked back toward the car, past all the merch tents, the trash covering the ground and the kids packed together under what shade they could find, we couldn’t help but feel like… well, we’re too old for this.

Don’t get us wrong – Warped Tour is great and they always have bands we enjoy; plus it gives the audience the opportunity to see bands we normally wouldn’t/don’t know of prior to the show. But Kansas City Warped Tour is also always in August, the hottest month of the year, and it seems we just don’t have the excitement or tenacity we did when we were 16 to deal with the heat.

We’re sure Warped Tour will continue to be a huge, truly wonderful event that will bring kids out and expose them to great musicians. While we had fun interviewing the bands and watching some of our favorites; we may have hit our Warped Tour peak with this one.

Photos by Todd Zimmer. Writing by Melissa Cowan.

One of my favorite things about music is that it has this ability to sneak up on you when you lose all respect for it. Just when you think you’ve heard everything or discovered the best of the best, something creeps in from the background and punches you in the lip. I walked into the Bottleneck-Lawrence, Kansas’ version of CBGBs-at 9:20 p.m., just in time to grab the tail end of New York City’s Harper Blynn. Having never stumbled across this band (or having lost them somewhere in a monsoon of emails and awful press packs) I couldn’t really gauge what to expect. Turns out they were the perfect answer for the a hardcore case of feeling the ‘music journalism burnout.’

Though I only managed to see one-fourth of their set, the energy packed into that four songs was enough to leave me Googling, Wikipediaing and Myspacing the band before they left the stage. Watching them scream the lyrics “stand up,” ironically, as three hipster girls sat in the floor in front of the stage, brought a smile to my face. While their epic cover of ” Halo” by Beyonce highlighted their great use of blended vocals as an instrument.

Thankfully, I’d get to catch them displaying their talent as the house band for both Cary Brothers and Greg Laswell.

Brothers, best known for his work with the Garden State Soundtrack, which featured “Blue Eyes,” started the set discussing his reputation for making his fans “sit in their house alone listening to his albums because they’re so depressing.” He then addressed how he approached the new album with a desire to write happier songs.

Playing several tracks off the new album, it would seem those goals were reached. With poppy, upbeat structures and lyrics reaching for the positives in life, the contrasts between Who You Are and Under Control were apparently obvious.

However, the most impressive aspects of Cary Brothers lay in the fact that unlike most artists, he can successfully balance both the upbeat and the depressing. This ability to keep his career out of the annoying pigeonholes that most artists fall into (i.e. Bright Eyes) seems to open a door for him to reach and influence an impressive spectrum of people. In an industry cluttered and watered down by photocopied and cookie cutter musicians, Cary Brother’s versatility is a breath of fresh air. He’s calm in the right places, allowing his beautiful stories to speak for themselves, while complimenting them flawlessly with just the right amount of musicality and hooks to keep them stuck in your head. It is almost blasphemy for him to waste his craft on a half empty room, if not only because they missed a pretty killer cover of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World.”

Having seen Greg Laswell a number of times following the release of his previous album, Three Flights From Alto Nido,  it was rather refreshing to catch him on tour in support of new material.  With the release of Take a Bow, comes new songs and fresh stories for Lawrence, Kansas.

Backed by Harper Blynn, Laswell sounds alive and upbeat. Even “Sing Teresa Says,” a song about his deceased grandmother, seemed to grasp a bit of happiness and power that I’ve never heard. His voice seems to reach further than usual, casting shades of the possibility of bigger venues and fuller rooms in the near future. His upcoming tour with Sara Bareilles seems to scream this fluently.

Furthermore, this night Greg seems to be leading the tightest set I’ve ever seen. Now, don’t read this wrong; I’m not trying to indicate that in previous sets that Laswell has been sloppy. Hell, I honestly think anything but that. I mean, he stole the show away from Ingrid Michaelson at The Beaumont and managed to get me to catch his set 3 or 4 times at the 2009 South by Southwest. However, this time Greg just seems completely collected. This could be nothing more than the comfort of sharing the stage with friends or as complex as penning an album of material he’s proud of. But whatever it is, it has Laswell on his game and at his best. I’ve never seen him better.

Mixing older material like “Comes and Goes (In Waves)”  and ” How The Day Sounds” with newer cuts from Take A Bow, Greg covers all his bases, pleasing his returning fans in the crowd while building on new ones. While the bar still seems half full at the evenings close, those in attendance seem pleased with the events of the evening moving their bodies and mouthing the lyrics to the songs they paid to see.

For those of you who skipped the show, you missed three singer-songwriters at their best.

Usually, Mondays are the worst day of the week. But the sun was shining and by some last minute graces, my schedule cleared just in time to check out the bands playing at one of the most beautiful venues in Lawrence. For once, this was my favorite weekday.

The venue, Liberty Hall, doubles as a movie theatre and because of that construction, it promotes great visibility of the entire stage no matter where you’re located. This attribute would actually be very handy for what was lined up for the stage on this particular evening, one of Canada’s many overly-talented collectives: The New Pornographers.

I arrived just after the start of Imaad Wasif.  I had seen Wasif tour with Yeah Yeah Yeahs way back in the day, but this was my first experience with his solo work. I had been told to expect folk rock, but while I braced for a Dylanesque sound, I think the time with Karen O had pushed Wasif more to just a rock sound. Sure, the guy was on an acoustic guitar, but as he thrashed his wild mane around, and bursted out his raw, edgy vocals, there was no way I could call that anything, but rock. But even that isn’t quite the right genre. Wasif sometimes incorporates nontraditional tunings and tonations, which is cool, but since it isn’t what most ears are used to, it is a bit hard to access at times.

The next act also incorporated some nontraditional sounds, but in contrast to the Wasif, this music was incredibly accessible whether you like rock, classical, pop or some other genre. The trio is riding on that wave of popular NW US, sunshine indie sound with big percussive elements and lots of harmonies that’s making acts like Local Natives garner buzz. And when I say big percussive elements, I mean BIG. Did you know it was possible to bow a vibraphone? Because apparently it is and when you do that, it sounds like playing the glass harmonica. Nearly every song featured some sort of syncopation between the percussionist and the drummer, resulting in every song being upbeat with not much downtown to lose interest. Then the icing of all this was that they actually used dynamics. Like real dynamics! A lot of times, I see a band and they have loud and one louder, but the use of crescendo and decrescendo in a rock band is something I rarely hear. After seeing them live, I think I might have a new CD to take over the car stereo.

Boston‘s “Foreplay” heralded the entrance of our Canadian superstars in the New Pornographers: Dan Bejar (Destroyer and Swan Lake), Kathryn Calder(Immaculate Machine), John Collins (The Evaporators),  Kurt Dahle (Limblifter), Todd Fancey (Fancey), Carl Newman (A.C. Newman), Blaine Thurier, and finally perhaps the most recognizable member, Neko Case. It’s almost unfair to the rest of the bands in the world that that much talent can be in one band together. Almost. I’m just glad I got to see all eight members together on a stage, which has become harder and harder to achieve as each continues to gain individual success (I’m looking at you Neko). As can be expected when you have 8 members on a stage, the show was like a party. With so many people, I was glad to see them keep the stage set up simple; they were accompanied by ‘The New Pornographers’ in dangling lights as the backdrop. The next hour and a half of music was filled with hit after hit song, smiles, alternating group vocals between the three primary singers and occasional fourth and lots of tambourine. One of my favorite moments of the night was when Newman and Case bantered about an upcoming waltz number.

“This might be the greatest waltz time ballad we ever wrote,” said Newman.

“It’s the only waltz time ballad we ever wrote,” retorted Case.

Newman smiled: “So we’re in agreement?”

“That a passive hint that you should waltz. Make love to the dance floor,” said Case.

And as the band began their greatest waltz, sure enough, people coupled up and began dancing. I couldn’t believe how many couples were at this show and the wide variety of them. Apparently, the New Pornographers equals a love fest. I really enjoyed one couple, probably in their 50s, down in the front row take up the band on the waltzing suggestion. It was a lot more tasteful than the significantly younger couple directly in front of me that took the band up on the “make love to the dance floor,” suggestion instead.

Aside from that one disgusting PDA couple threatening to damper my show experience, I couldn’t have asked for a better night. If you want an evening of carefree, happy, indie pop music, this tour is the perfect night out.

The New Pornographers Set List:
Sing Me Spanish Techno
Up in the Dark
Myriad Harbour
Crash Years
The Laws Have Changed
Jackie Dressed in Cobras
Adventures in Solitude
Twin Cinema
Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk
Go Places
Jackie
My Rights Versus Yours
Moves
Your Hands (Together)
Use It
Silver Jenny Dollar
Mass Romantic
Bleeding Heart Show
Challengers
Testament to Youth in Verse

Good things come to those who wait. So for those who have been waiting the very long, seven-year wait for a new release from Manhattan, Kansas’ Ultimate Fakebook, expect very good things. Heck, even if you’ve never heard of the band before this post, you can expect very good things.

After a seven-year hiatus, the power pop group is issuing a new full-length, Daydream Radio Is Smiling Static.  The album is a collection of lost recordings from 2000-2003: 16 originals and a Guided By Voices cover. You can stream it in its entirety below or at ufbrocks.com. Then, if you like what you hear (which we’re betting you will), you can download the album for free just by exchanging your email address for the album.

“Half of these songs were written and recorded to be a follow up to Laughing Week and the
other half were written after 2003’s Open Up and Say Awesome, which was our last album
as a band,” says vocalist Bill McShane of Daydream Radio. “This is 100% a gift to our fans, and we hope that we can gain some new fans as well. Sometimes it just takes awhile for the stars to align.”

July also commemorates the 10th anniversary of the band’s This Will Be Laughing Week, a record that gained the outfit some mainstream success with its Sony/Epic Records release thanks to its catchy hooks, which helped earn the band a loyal fan base.

We’re devious at PopWreckoning and somehow we managed to convince one of our favorite Kansas City bands that we had the prime performance opportunity for them. In exchange for beer and our undying gratitude, we convinced the boys in The Cherry Tree Parade to play in the beautiful, prestigious Lawrence venue known as…my house. That’s right, somehow we convinced the boys in the indie pop rock trio to bring all their own sound equipment and set up on a back porch in the middle of a heat advisory. Suckas…er…I mean, thank you, amazingly awesome gents!

If you haven’t heard of these guys, they really are amazing. They manage to deliver some fantastic harmonies and alliterative lyrics through their shifting tempos and genres. I must admit that I’m pretty envious of the vocabulary they whip out on half these songs. So whether they’re talking about death or sex, they somehow manage to make it sound beautiful.

Of course, I’m a little biased (considering I recruited them to play at my house). So I recommend you take a look/listen for yourself. PopWreckoning managed to catch a majority of the set on tape and we’ve uploaded it for your enjoyment.* There were a few technical difficulties, which should be expected in the unconventional environment, but it didn’t stop the guys from delivering a fun set that was a perfect celebration of summer.

*Click on the little box icon that looks like it has a hot dog in it that’s to the right of the play button to see the full play list.

Lawrence rockers The Dactyls are in the studio, but you don’t have to wait until a new album is released to hear the new material.

That’s because the boys are livestreaming and chatting from the studio. They’re pretty funny guys, so you’ll get a lot more than just musical treats.

Check out the stream below:

Mastodon, a metal band from Atlanta, GA, are working their way around the country on tour alongside Between The Buried And Me, Baroness and Valient Thorr.

PopWreckoning is giving tickets to the Mastodon show on May 16 at Liberty Hall in Lawrence, KS. There are two pairs of tickets up for grabs, and the contest will end at 4:30 p.m. the day of show. Winners’ tickets will be at the door when you arrive at the show. Please also include your full name and email in the comment so that I can get in touch with the winners of the contest.

Winning is easy, simply complete the following steps:

1. Comment in this article with the answer to this question: Which popular clothing manufacturer is sponsoring Mastodon’s North American tour? PopWreckoning staff will read your answers and choose from the correct ones the day of show.

2. Repost this article on either your facebook, twitter, myspace, blog, website or other social media tool. Spread the wealth, then send us the link (by posting it in your comment).

Then, best (and easiest) of all, show up at the venue and enjoy the show, compliments of PopWreckoning. Good luck!

Once upon a time, the Flaming Lips brought a mystical show to the small town in northeastern Kansas and Jack White’s the Dead Weather opened along with Minus the Bear, White Rabbits, the Ettes and Stardeath & the White Dwarfs. Yes, this is the line-up that both dreams and fairytales are made of, but like all good stories, there was the threat of a villain. The villain attempting to thwart our plot was the severe tornado watch blanketing the county, but fairy godmothers must have heard prayers, and sunny skies beat down on concertgoers: the rain held off until after the show.

Yet, this did not make all perfect. Unfortunately, there was a subplot with its own villain. The set times were unclear and due to this, those of us following the venue’s listed 5 p.m. showtime, missed the first two bands–The Ettes and Stardeath & the White Dwarfs–who opened the show at 4:15 p.m. Doors had only opened at 4 p.m., so fans really had to scramble to make that. I, unfortunately, was still at work, so I’ll have to catch these bands at a later date to give them a worthy review.

Instead, my first opener was White Rabbits. White Rabbits, despite their Columbia, Missouri, ties were welcomed warmly in Jayhawk country. The six-piece band’s bombastic drum heavy set and easy-to-sing along with vocals held attention easily. They were dynamic enough to draw people away from lengthy merch lines to see who was pounding on the keyboards. Popular tune, “Percussion Gun” got people moving and despite three huge acts following them, this song was what remained stuck in my mind well after the show was over.

I know for a fact that many had turned up for buzz indie band Minus the Bear. Seattle’s rockers are gearing up for their fourth studio release, Omni, but as excited as I was for the ambient rockers, their set was almost too mellow for an amphitheatre platform and it didn’t help that they had to deal with complete sunlight during their set so no fog or lights could help give them atmosphere. This isn’t to say they were bad. Their songs were tight and they played diverse selections from their catalog. However, the environment for that type of music is better set in a late night club.

It’s weird to think the next act was just an opener. The Dead Weather played like they were they headliner and with the added attraction of Jack White, some in the crowd might have thought that they were. The southern rock they played was fun and even featured a Pentagram cover. The Kills‘ Allison Mosshart fully embraced her role as southern rock queen and held the crowd in the palm of her hand as the chain smoker gripped a cigarette in one hand and the mic in the other, while walking the length of the stage and striking dramatic poses. She wore a leopard-print jacket: fitting attire for a woman who looked like a cat on the prowl. She’s far more entertaining in this setting than she ever was in her previous bands. Dare I say the same of Jack White or is that blasphemy? I never had the privilege of catching him with the White Stripes (I bought tickets to a Lincoln, Nebraska show, but then they announced their “hiatus”), but I did see him with the Raconteurs. With the Dead Weather, Jack White, or Jackie White as he introduced himself, seemed to be having a sort of fun that was absent in his other projects. He remained behind his drum set for a majority of the Dead Weather songs, letting Mosshart lead, but when he sang or came out front to play guitar (heck in some songs, he did all three: sing, guitar and drum), it was clear he was the star. Yet, as the star of the show, he was still humble. Though a super group of this stature needs no introductions, he introduced his band mates: “Dean Fertita: so Italian you could order a pizza off him…Jack Lawrence: you might have seen him before as he’s no stranger to Kansas City. Call him up and take him out sometime…This little dark-haired queen is Allison Mosshart…and I’m Jackie White.” Even their roadies got into the strange character of the band: they all wore matching suits and blue ties. It’s weird to think anyone could top a set with as strong of personality as that, but the headliners, the Flaming Lips, were ready to embrace the challenge.

This was my first experience seeing the Flaming Lips and from the Youtube videos that I watched in preparation, the band brought out both old and new tricks. Leading up to their set, front man Wayne Coyne had appeared on the side stage for all the openers, both to check the other bands out, but to also greet the crowd and accept their warm applause.

Strobing lights and trippy yellow woman appeared on the screen for the lips grand entrance during “Worm Mountain.” This projected woman then “birthed” each of the band members before Coyne got his special birthing treatment and appeared and his infamous plastic ball. He rolled over fans before rolling back on stage. Confetti and balloons continuously poured on the audience causing further eruptions of cheers and applause. The band seems to live and thrive off of applause. Coyne constantly raised his hands towards the sky to encourage more applause and the band was flanked on either side by orange cheerleaders/dancers (as well as the later addition of a caterpillar and a catfish).

For some one who had never experienced this band before, I had a hard time deciding what to make of them. The theatrics were a bit through the roof: bubble over the guitar? Inflatables? Waaaay too much confetti? But then again, they’re supposed to be at a Flaming Lips performance. So when drummer Kliph Scurlock (who happens to live 30 minutes away from the venue in Lawrence) led the crowd in acting like monkeys and croaking like frogs during “I Can Be a Frog,” you really just had to chuckle and go with it, whereas any other band trying to pull that off would have had you going, “What the Fuck?” The only point where the Lips did push me to the edge of my comfort zone, was during one of the pieces where Coyne placed giant hands on his knelt in a prayer position and opened the hands up with green lasers stretching out of the palms like stigmata, while the crowd responded like he was their personal god. But again, it’s the Lips and you just go with the flow. And for some, I guess this is the closest they get to a religious experience.

Stardeath & the White Dwarfs (and even more confetti) joined the Lips for an encore of “Brain Damage” and “Eclipse” off their Dark Side of the Moon compilation. The anthem “Do You Realize” rounded it in a literally explosive finale (did I mention more confetti?) before the show ended. The crowd begged for more, but the Lips settled on just returning for bows, leaving people with just enough time for people to make it to their cars before it rained.

This was the first outdoor show of Kansas City’s season at Sandstone and what a way to kick things off. Here’s hoping the rest of the summer lives up to this.

The Flaming Lips Set List:
Worm Mountain
Silver Trembling Hands
Yeah Yeah Yeah Song
In The Morning of the Magicians
She Don’t Use Jelly
I Can Be A Frog
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robits, Pt. 1
See the Leaves
Powerless
Pompeii Am Gotterdamerung
Taps
The W.A.N.D.
Convinced of the Hex
///
Brain Damage
Eclipse (with Stardeath & White Dwarfs)
Do You Realize?

Monday 4:37 p.m.
I know I’m going to forget something. I always do. Regardless of the fact that I’ve managed to fill the entire backseat and trunk of the beat up mercury cougar waiting in the driveway, I’m certain that once I get past that “Welcome to Texas” sign, something will dawn on me. I’ll have 15 different vintage shirts, but no laptop cord. Ugh.

It’s not as though I haven’t made checklists. Hell, I have been waist deep in South by Southwest– planning and reevaluating with Dayna, president of Big Picture Media, since mid-December. The festival itself is still more than 24 hours from reality for me, but I couldn’t be more ready for it to be over. Well, in theory at least.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. Well, I’m not complaining much.

I understand that I’m blessed to be in the position I am. As a music journalist, I get to see the industry in a way many casual fans never will. I’m lucky to do so and am certainly not implying I’d rather be staying home in Kansas City. However, I am ready for the prep work to end. I’m whole-heartedly looking forward to moving past the rsvping, showcase planning and alignment, beyond the backlining and sound check arrangements, to the moment where the lights go down at the PureVolume House and seeing Neko Case and Jakob Dylan remind me there is a reason I jump through these hoops.

Super early Tuesday 12:43 a.m.
I can’t begin to imagine how bands do this for a living. I’m two hours and three red bulls into my tri-state venture to Austin, Texas, home of South by Southwest and boredom has already begun to settle in. Southeast Kansas is truly the epitome of nothingness.

I can’t believe that I came from here. Tulsa, Oklahoma: 88 miles.

Tuesday 4:50 a.m.
Upon the realization that I have to pay a two dollar toll to get off Highway 75 to pee, resulting in my paying a seventy-five cent toll to get back on, I stop downing Red Bull like it’s water. While this stops the endless nagging need to find the nearest Kum and Go gas station restroom, it also results in my body’s realization that it desires sleep. After forty-five minutes of questioning its decision-making processes, I concede.

Tuesday 11:00 a.m.
As I wander around McAlester, Oklahoma in search of a mocha that hasn’t be created by running hot water through processed powder, the realization dawns on me that almost every Oklahoma town looks alarmingly similar. It almost seems like there is a unified checklist required to become a township, similar to the way that Johnson County communities in Kansas require your grass remain at a certain length or your house a certain color. Here however, the rules seem drastically different. For example, every town seems required to have at least one casino and bingo hall. Secondly, every town must have a parking lot full of vintage mustangs. The places provided to eat also all to be very sneaky. The Whataburger we thought we’d located turned out to be a Watsonburger. Must be a fluke, right? Nope. The corner Waffle House was a Waffle Shoppe. No deal. I’ll wait until Dallas.

Tuesday 12:23 p.m.
Oops. 67 in a 55. Hello 145 dollar speeding ticket. Goodbye coffee fund.

Tuesday 2:36 p.m.
After watching cars zoom past me in excess of 200 miles per hour in the Diamond Lane to my left, I come to the realization that there are enough persons in my car to drive in that lane. I had previous thought I needed three bodies, when I in fact needed only two. Huzzah! In hopes that this will answer my prayers for an end to the Dallas gridlock traffic, I weave around the cones and step on the gas hitting 75 for the first time in two hours. This lasts roughly, 45 seconds before the carpool lane also comes to a dead stop, where we’ll sit for another 25 minutes.

Tuesday 5:40 p.m.
Hello, Austin!

Tuesday 6:10 p.m.
I check into the studio apartment that will be my home for the next 7 days. I must confess, I’m almost willing to not leave. The couch in the living room is rather comfy and will serve as a nice late night resting place to write reviews from. There is also a nice balcony overlooking I-35 South, which has now become cluttered with future concert goers.

However, half begrudgingly, I grab a quick shower and a plate of tortilla soup before joining them on the road to downtown.

Tuesday 8:12 p.m.
I arrive at the Austin Convention Center to grab my press credentials to the surprise of no line. I’m kind of okay with this considering the previous year’s wait of four hours to get our badges. A quick shift to the left got me to the camera check in, where my Nikon D90 found itself tagged and cleared for venue use. With that, we’re all set. Sxsw 2010 is go.

I cross Trinity Street and walk toward 6th, making my way to the PureVolume House. Here, I catch Joshua James, Johnny Flynn and Jakob Dylan and Three Legs (which consists of Neko Case). Before pushing my way through roughly 500 people to an area accessible to the stage for cameras, I grabbed one of my free complimentary drink.

Wednesday 12:30 a.m.
After grabbing some Toni’s Pizza and Boone’s Farm wine from the Walgreens down the street, I headed back towards my hotel room to crank out the reviews from the prior day.

Look for Part 2 of Joshua’s SXSW blog soon…

We Were Promised Jetpacks‘ headlining tour was hitting Lawrence, Kan. the same night as the Oscars, which would have hurt the turnout at a lot of other band’s shows, but WWPJ are not your ordinary run-of-of the-mill rock group. This was the band’s first time to Lawrence and considering they’re from Scotland, fans know what a special treat it is for this band to make the trek here at all. The show was abetted that both tour mates of WWPJ, Bear Hands and the Lonely Forest, have been picking up a lot of buzz lately.

Fans of Brooklyn’s Bear Hands can rejoice that they can see the fresh act in less than a month when they return to Kansas City with Passion Pit on April 5. Don’t delay buying a ticket. That show is sure to sell out.

It’s near impossible to not fall in love with every aspect Seattle’s the Lonely Forest.

The guys tried to encourage the timid crowd closer to the stage before they began with a dedication to the fellow Seattle band, The Lonely H, whom had just played in Lawrence the night before. Since I could easily predict what followed “And the Oscar goes to…” from watching the show before coming to this concert, I expected I was going to be able to do a similar thing with the music at this show. There’s only so many ways to follow-up a C major chord after all. Yet somehow, the Lonely Forest managed to completely surprise with their unpredictable key and tempo changes—and to think that they executed these changes with seamless transitions. The only cue that they really even gave that the songs were about to take an unexpected turn was that the singer would rock back on his left heel or slightly bend his knees to spring out into a big jump despite the stage being extremely close to the ceiling.

What really hooks one on the Lonely Forest are their lyrics. The punky singer (personality-wise, not in looks, which were more akin to Rivers Cuomo), had a voice that seemed to blend that of the Mountain Goats with that of Noah and the Whale (sans accent). The lyrics he sang teetered between a sentimental, Seattle, Washington loving ballad to the quirky set closer “We Sing In Time.” Of their eight song set, I especially loved “Coyote,” which was complete with howls.

These guys live up to their hype. They just became the first signing to Chris Walla‘s record label, so expect a fantastic release from them soon.

I caught We Were Promised Jetpacks before in a cave and while they were good, it seemed like everything that could go wrong, went wrong. It was a fest, so there a strict timetable they had adhere and it seems like half their set was lost to a broken string that resulted in the singer awkwardly saying random words in his thick accent for the very, very American audience’s amusement.

Still a little bit awkward when speaking with the crowd – he was quite surprised when “sweat out a burrito got a laugh,” he definitely was more at ease with his performance this go around and their slight awkwardness and modest demeanor between songs is part of their charm.

When WWPJ actually starts playing songs, that shyness goes out the window and they are just a giant ball of energy. If it wasn’t for the accent, it’d be easy to think they were a completely different band from how they play compared to how they speak in between songs. Cymbal and guitar heavy indie rock tunes drew the crowd closer to the stage and it seemed that the music not only washed away the band’s shyness with time, but also that of the crowd.

“Roll Up Your Sleeves”

I did my best to keep track of the set list and I apologize for a few gaps in my memory:

1. Keeping Warm
2. ???
3. Roll up Your Sleeves
4. It’s Thunder and It’s Lightning
5. ???
6. This Is My House, This Is My Home
7. ???
8. Ships with Holes Will Sink
9. Short Bursts