Drive By Truckers at Opera House, March 19

The Drive By Truckers played Toronto's Opera House last night. I've seen them a number of times before, dating back to probably 2000 or 2001, but I haven't seen them in at least a few years and perhaps longer.

I was never a huge fan -- I think they are okay but find that after 20-25 minutes their songs all start to sound the same and I get a little bored. Still, it had been a few years and they have had some lineup changes so it seemed worth trying them out again. Plus, the Whigs, who I saw at SXSW and quite liked, were opening.

I got there in time to see four songs of the Whigs set, though I missed one while I was being frisked as part of TOH's ridiculous entry procedure. They (the Whigs, not the entry procedures) were as I remembered them in Austin: loud, fun and fairly melodic, with a killer drummer.

DBTs came on and I stuck around for about an hour, but still had the same impression I usually do. They are a good band, though on this night I thought the pedal steel/slide guitar player was way too loud in the mix. One of the last songs they played before I left I thought was excellent -- I was told by a friend it is on their new record. Maybe I need to check out that one.

SXSW'08: Saturday

I blew off most of the day out of mental and physical fatigue, and went on a BBQ run to Spicewood, TX, about 30 miles NW of the city. The place was called Opie's, we bought about $140 worth of various meats, and had a big old feast with about ten of us there. It was good times.

We then made a pit stop at the Outside Records party at the Saxon Pub, where I saw both Jill and Matthew Barber, though I have to confess I wasn't really paying attention to either. Their songs seemed nice enough but I was busy digesting.

From there, Flatstock was next, and I picked up five posters to add to my collection, featuring The Pernice Brothers, the Weakerthans, Centro-Matic, Okkervil River and the New Pornographers.

I then went back to the hotel and started trying to track down several of my friends who I had barely seen all week, and got a response from one that led me to hop into a cab and head to the French Legation Museum, which was hosting a daytime party that day. I "saw" She & Him, a new duo featuring folky M. Ward but mostly concentrating on the songs of the her, Zooey Deschanel. I liked them, though I couldn't actually see them because of the tent and sun in my eyes.

They were followed by the thing that lured me, another set by Okkervil River, who brought the, um, tent down with their eight-song set. Will Sheff has found his mojo and had one of my favourite lines of the festival when he was encouraging the crowd to clap along and said "C'mon, put down your iPhones and clap your hands!"

I went from there to see Welsh soul-pop chanteuse Duffy, who was nice enough though not anything I would rave about. I left the venue even though the mighty Okkervil River were the next band on, deciding that no matter how good they were I couldn't justify seeing them twice in four hours when I had only a few hours of festival left at all. So I walked over to another venue and saw Chicago's The Redwalls, a retro pop-rock band that has a big ole crush on the Beatles, which is alright by me. They were really good, and featured easily the best vocal harmonies I heard all week, which given that two of them are brothers isn't all that surprising.

I then decided to check out Justin Townes Earle -- no pressure there, your dad is Steve Earle and he named you after Townes Van Zandt, arguably the greatest songwriter country music has ever known -- and his five-man country ensemble. I enjoyed him well enough, and found the debate going on around the room about whether or not he looked like his daddy or not was amusing. (I swear I heard at least four different conversations about this in under 40 minutes.) Next up were Chicago's The Deadstring Brothers, a band I first discovered at SXSW in 2006. They were once again excellent, bringing their worship ofExile on Main St.-era Rolling Stones back to Austin yet again.

I was thinking about going to see the Slits after that, but was worried that the late start of their set, 12:15, might cause me to miss what I knew would be a great ending to the festival, British Sea Power's official showcase, at 1 a.m. So I decided to take my chances with the Autumns, from Los Angeles, who were playing before BSP, and while I didn't hate them, I didn't love them either. They were basically a shoegazer band with a Thom Yorke-wannabe singing, and their low point was certainly the song that I wrongly assumed was the end of their set which ended with all three guitar players and the bass player on their knees or lying on their backs noodling away. Tedious.

British Sea Power came on a bit late (as they had on Friday, again with the British tardiness!) but it was well worth the wait. They were absolutely off the hook, and the 20 or more other people I knew at the show, including quite a few jaded music-industry types who don't get excited about anything, all agreed it was one of the best things they saw all week. The crowd chanting "Easy! Easy! Easy!" along withHamilton on "No Lucifer" was exhilirating, and the freakout at the end while everyone wondered where guitarist Noble was going to end up was rock bliss, and a fabulous way to end a great week of rock music. Here's how that show, and my SXSW, ended on Saturday night. I think you can see my head in this shot, I must have been a few people in front of the cameraman.

That's it. I'm happy to entertain questions about any bands, and I can't guarantee I didn't miss anything in this writeup as it's all pretty jumbled still. Can't wait until March 2009 to do it all over again.

SXSW'08: Friday

The first order of the day was to see Nicole Atkins & the Sea, featuring a good friend of mine, Dave Hollinghurst, on lead guitar. I've seen them 2-3 times before, and enjoyed them, and once again Nicole's songs and voice didn't disappoint, nor did Dave's guitar playing and rock posing. He wins the award for coolest-looking-guitar-player-that-has-ever-hung-out-with-me-at-a-sake-bar-until-4-a.m., that's for sure.

I went up the street to see the U.K.'s The Duke Spirit, and caught three songs only because the singer said her voice was shot (which it was.) I wasn't too disappointed, however, because it was 27 degrees and the venue had no shade, whatsoever. My Irish ancestors didn't equip me for this weather, I tell you. So I was glad to get inside for a few minutes and catch the end of Winnipeg's the Weakerthans' set. (I generally avoid Canadian bands I've seen a lot atSXSW, but I do love the Weakerthans...)

After that, I spent an hour or so at the Convention Centre cooling off and checking out Flatstock, the annual rock poster sale that has yielded much of the art some of you have seen hanging in my house. I picked out a few to come back and buy the next day, but made no purchases other than a few t-shirts.

I left Flatstock, and my roommate, who decided to compete in the ultimate Rock Trivia quiz they were holding (he finished 5th with 70%of the questions correct - he's even more of a music geek than me) andwent to see The Golden Dogs, to show some support for the Toronto band that I think might deserve the title of the city's best band right now. They were fantastic, and the crowd really responded to them. My friend Dave (Nicole Atkins' guitar player) showed up here because a former bandmate of his was playing drums for the next act, Heloise & the Savoir Faire. They dug the Golden Dogs, unfortunately I can't really say the same for Heloise, it just wasn't my thing. I left to see Darondo.

Darondo is a soul singer who used to run with James Brown and the like, and released three 7" singles in the 60s or 70s, and then disappeared for 30+ years. Well, he's back, and he was fantastic, although the band that backed him were a bit too clinical, I felt, to really do his songs justice. After his short set was over, I ventured around the corner and caught about five songs by New Zealand's Liam Finn (who is the son of one of the Split Enz/Crowded House Finn brothers, though I don't recall which one.) He writes and sings songs in the same vein as his father and uncle, though perhaps with a little more youthful energy and angst (he's 24.) He played both guitar and drums, often using a guitar loop to free him up to get behind the traps. I liked him enough that I bought his disc as well.

Next up was another set, this time at 5 p.m., by Brighton's British Sea Power, and they topped their day-earlier set. I was in heaven.

I took my daily rest back at the hotel for a couple of hours, and then decided to check out New York's The Virgins at 8 p.m. They were okay, but reminded me a little too much of Phantom Planet and Better Than Ezra and not enough of the Strokes to really hold my interest for 45 minutes, so I walked up the street to catch Superchunk lead singer MacMcCaughan's solo alter-ego, Portastatic, and his acoustic pop songs. It was pretty nice.

One of my favourite random albums of the past 20 years was Cotton Mather's "Kontiki" a power-pop gem that I discovered out of nowhere. Cotton Mather disbanded a while ago, but Robert Harrison has a new band called Future Clouds & Radar who I thought worth checking out. I didn't really dig them -- they were alright but maybe just a little too precious at times, making me wonder if a 12" Stonehenge monument might be lowered to the stage at some point amidst much dry ice and a frantic light show. I wanted to see X across town at 10 anyway, so I took off, though I found time to stop in and see ex-Chicago singer Chris Mills play two songs on the way, and enjoyed his always catchy if sometimes a bit too earnest pop rock.

I then saw X in a live taping for DirecTV which was a bit annoying, but it was cool to get to see one of those seminal bands that I was far too young to appreciate in their prime. After X, I went and saw Earlimart, who much like the last time I saw them three or four years ago at exactly the same venue, played some nice, laid back pop that is reminiscent of Elliott Smith's later work, and was good enough.

I then went to see a Manchester band, The Whip, who started half an hour late (what is it with British bands not being on time?) and did nothing for me. Dancey, forgettable Brit pop. I left after two songs and wandered over to see Magic Christian, a "supergroup" side project of sorts featuring Cyril Jordan of the Flamin' Groovies and Clem Burke of Blondie fame. They were a terrific power-pop band, and ended my night with a note perfect version of "Shake Some Action" which is about as good a way to end a night as there can be.