Universe Contest at The Waiting Room, May 9, 2012.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

Maybe 40 on hand for last night’s Omaha debut of Universe Contest, which is either evidence of how hard it is to get people out on a Wednesday night or the dominance of this week’s Big Omaha event (though I doubt any of those techno-nerds would have come to this show anyway).

By 10 first opener Ideal Cleaners already had cleaned house. Second opener Dim Light came on next and blazed through a set of minor key tribal rock dirges sung in a style that got my mojo risin’ (Get it?). One of Omaha’s most magnetic (and cool) frontmen, Cooper Moon laid down his vocals with dollops of delay like a 10-foot-tall biker vampire performing an exorcism on an abandoned Stuckey’s. His guitar was bright and bluesy, but it’s the rhythm section of bassman Tom Barrett drum legend Boz Hicks that cannot/will not be ignored.

Next, Universe Contest. The Lincoln five-piece (two guitars, bass, keyboards and drums) has had comparisons to early Modest Mouse hung around their necks thanks to their recordings. The resemblance is hard to ignore, but on stage, the Modest Mouse comparisons don’t wash. UC is more calculated. More backwoods. More proggy. And, yeah, more tuneful.

The Modest Mouse thing comes from the wonky, scratchy vocals a la Isaac Brock, who (regretfully) smoothed it out on MM’s more recent records. Take away the Modest Mouse overhang and they’re harder to pin down. As the name implies, they’re spacey, but not shoegaze spacey or Bowie spacey. Spacey like a group of Midwestern hillbillies who got ahold of a stack of Popular Science

magazines and figured out how to build their own spaceship from abandoned grain silos, Case tractors parts and the cockpit from a hollowed-out ’73 Maverick. I can see them now sitting on the launchpad in their overalls, their hippie hair sticking out of their gold-painted football helmets. 10.9.8.7…

Best moment of the night was the set closer with the almost whispered line “…breaks my heart.” It sounded like a weird, spacey, bluesy combination of Uriah Heep and Soundgarden, and nothing at all like Modest Mouse. They finished their short set by midnight to cries for more. If they can get past the Modest Mouse thing, watch out.

* * *

In this world of instant media; does it really matter who says what first? Who has the scoop? Who tweets it first? Or rather, does it matter who says it better? That’s the essence of this week’s column in The Reader, which you can read online right here. I’ve been trying to find a better name for the column than “Beyond Lazy-i,” which was the publisher’s idea. So I’m trying a different name every week until something sticks. This week it’s called The Moleskin Diaries. Who knows what it’ll be called next week. I’m open to your suggestions.

* * *

Tonight at Slowdown Jr. it’s the psychobilly sounds of Koffin Kats with The Hooten Hallers, The Blacktop Ramblers and Video Ranger. Early 8 p.m. start time. $12.

Also tonight, Skypiper plays at The Waiting Room with Betsy Wells and I Heard a Lion. $7, 9 p.m.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

The Drums at The Waiting Room, May 1, 2012.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

Just how big was Record Store Day last weekend for Homer’s. Let’s just say sales were at “historic” levels, said Homer’s General Manager Mike Fratt. “We are extremely thankful for all the customer support and all the excitement they create,” he said. “It’s very enjoyable to see fans come out in such large numbers.”

RSD has become a marketing phenomenon of unequaled proportions. The only thing you can compare it to is, say, Black Friday or when Apple launches a new iPhone. It’s huge, not only for Homer’s but for every independent record store in the country. “But with that comes considerable risk as purchases of RSD exclusive product can amount to tens of thousands of dollars, and it’s all sold one way. No returns,” Fratt said. “It is amazing how big an event Record Store Day has become, and it continues to spread internationally. Europe, Asia, South America, Australia. And the indies did this. It dominates Google trends in the week prior, is covered by all major media, and generates positive karma for music and the music business.”

To give you an idea of the enormity for Homer’s: “We brought in more product this year than the last three years combined,” Fratt said. “(It) freaked us out how much we bought, but it turned out well. We sold 66 percent of what we brought in, and have been able to reload on some titles we sold out of since then.”

Among the huge sellers was The Flaming Lips’ Heady LP, which Fratt said not only sold out quickly in Omaha, but sold enough copies that it would have charted in the top 40 on the Billboard charts, and we’re talking about a vinyl release. The key phrase in the last sentence is “would have,” because Fratt said Soundscan somehow didn’t properly report sales on RSD.

“Soundscan showed many cities reported none (of the Lips record) sold (including in Omaha), although we sold all 30 of ours,” Fratt said. “In LA, Soundscan showed just 183 sold when all stores there reported selling all they had, which would have sent the number into the hundreds. Soundscan showed sales in Detroit of negative 400.” Yeah, you read that right.

“Not only did it damage reporting on the three or four titles that would have hit the charts, it also ends up unreporting total impact of RSD, by probably enough to push overall weekly sales up another percent or two — a significant achievement on the part of the indie sector.”

It’s a fuck-up literally of national proportions at a time when the record industry — and indie music stores — can ill afford one. But was Soundscan’s misreporting just a one-time thing or a symptom of a systemic problem? Fratt said the indie music coalition is meeting in LA next week to address the problem. “We are not only concerned about RSD, but ongoing reporting errors,” Fratt said. “Could this loss of reporting move the total national year to date sales up 1 or 2 percent? That is significant if true. No one really knows yet.”

Regardless, there’s no denying that last weekend was wildly successful. Cold hard cash does not lie. “The Indie Retail community saw a 40% increase from last week,” Fratt said. “The overall business conditions were up 3% from last week – which is cool because mass merchants were about even and digital scans were down about 4%.” If that isn’t proof that vinyl is making an impact, nothing is.

While I have your attention, Fratt wanted to pass along some upcoming special events at his store, including in-store performances by My Darkest Days on May 22 and Tech n9ne on May 27, along with listening parties for Beach House and Best Coast May 14 and Sigor Ros May 28.

* * *

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Craft Spells at The Waiting Room, May 1, 2012.

Briefly… I am a sucker for ’80s electronic music a la Factory Records bands such as Joy Division and New Order. So last night’s show at The Waiting Room clearly was right up my alley.

Opening band Part Time set the mood with a micro-set that lasted less than a half hour. So shortcthat it was hard to absorb what they were doing on stage. Add to that the fact that they seemed to just want to get it over with didn’t help matters.

They were followed by Craft Spells, who sounded like, well, a cross between New Order and Joy Division. It was all there in the oh so familiar guitar lines, synth parts and up-tempo rhythm section that was straight off of Brotherhood. It’s one thing to be derivative of a style, it’s another to wholly embody it. There’s no question what these guys were trying to do, and they did it well, though I couldn’t tell you a word of what the frontman was mumbling into the microphone during their short set. I can tell you they were the best band on stage last night.

Here I was thinking I might get home by 11, but The Drums put on a long, if not adventureless, performance. With a sound that undoubtedly has its origins in the ’80s, it hinted at something slightly more modern (as in The Strokes). Blond frontman Jonny Pierce spent most of the set sashaying around the darkened stage vocally emulating Bono. In fact, their music tried to harken back to very early U2, but lacked that band’s anthemic hubris.

Watching Pierce skip and sway through his set without engaging the audience made me remember what made Bono such an incredible frontman back in U2’s glory days — he brought his audience along with him on every song. He was mesmerizing, nearly confrontational, determined to make everyone in the audience care about what he was singing about. Pierce could have been singing words out of a telephone book, which is a shame because The Drums lyrics deserve more effort than that.

* * *

Snake Island headlines a show tonight at The Waiting Room with Lightning Bug, Dim Light and  Swamp Walk. $5, 9 p.m.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

Lambchop at Slowdown Jr., April 27, 2012.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

Another “sit-down” show at Slowdown? This is becoming a habit. A couple weeks ago it was Cowboy Junkies in the big room. Friday night it was Lambchop in the front room for a crowd that looked to be around 100, maybe more, half of whom were seated on folding chairs set up in a space between the stage and pushed-back tables. Obviously it has something to do with either the laid-back music or the mature age of the crowd, or both. And in both cases, the chairs were oddly appropriate, especially since the people fronting both bands also spent the the evening seated.

So-So Sailors at Slowdown Jr., April 27, 2012.

For opening band So-So Sailors Friday night, it was seated frontman Chris Machmuller behind a keyboard, though Mach also stood with a guitar slung over his shoulder. Maybe it was the room’s dark ambiance but this was the most relaxed, most un-rushed set I’ve heard the Sailors play, and also the finest. No one was trying to blow the roof off of anything, instead Mach and his band of merry men provided subtle, complete interpretations of songs off their recently released EP along with a few new songs that will fill out an LP one of these days.

Next was Lambchop, and as expected, seated directly in the center of the stage was Omaha guitarist/musician Alex McManus, a Lambchop veteran back in the fold if only for one night. Judging by the smile on frontman Kurt Wagner’s face, he couldn’t have been more proud. Wagner lead the band seated with an acoustic guitar and his dry, folky mumble, backed by two keyboardists (one occasionally switching to guitar), bass and drums, and McManus adding tasty fills and leads on electric guitar.

Their sound was warm and subtle like sipping a glass of fine old scotch. There was no resemblance to “alt country” at all. In fact, their music has more in common with intimate club jazz, with Wagner’s mid-range voice bordering on rhythmic spoken word, though he showed his range at times. Some really beautiful stuff.

The band played for well over an hour and not only came back for the usual three-song encore but also for a couple more after that. Wagner said they were doing something out of the usual because he loves playing with McManus, who he called “his secret weapon.” A modest McManus merely smiled and waved without looking up at the crowd.

* * *

It’s a sort of busy week for shows. Tomorrow night is The Drums at The Waiting Room; Dim Light and Snake Island at TWR Wednesday; and then The Pines Thursday night at Slowdown Jr. and Love Drunk’s tour fund raiser also Thursday night at The Sydney with Honeybee & Hers and Bazooka Shootout, and then Icky Blossoms returns to Slowdown Jr. on Friday (speaking of Icky, they just dropped their video for “Babes” this morning. Check it here). Get your shows in during the week, because the weekend ain’t looking good (so far).

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

Icky Blossoms at Earth Day in Elmwood Park, April 21, 2012.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

By now you’ve heard the news about this year’s MAHA Music Festival. Four bands were announced last night, with more to come.

The bands: Garbage, Desaparecidos, Josh Rouse and Icky Blossoms.

Garbage is quite a catch. Other than a handful of U.S. dates this month and into early May, the band will tour primarily in Europe throughout the summer, sneaking in the MAHA appearance Aug. 11 just prior to heading to Japan. In other words, as of now Garbage is skipping the entire summer U.S. festival season, giving MAHA something of an exclusive.

If you’re too young to remember Garbage, the band scored a couple hits in the mid-’90s with “Stupid Girl” and “Only Happy When It Rains,” which still get airplay on the better radio stations throughout the country. Their last album was ’05’s Bleed Like Me. Now they’re back with a new album, Not Your Kind of People, which comes out May 14 on STUNVOLUME, their own label. The first single, “Blood for Poppies,” leaked about a month ago, continues the band’s brash alt rock sound. Check it out below:

Garbage, “Blood for Poppies”:

Desaparecidos is the mysterious band referenced in my last blog entry (As Desaparepussies). The guys played at Conor Oberst’s Concert for Equality in Benson in 2010, so this isn’t exactly a bolt-out-of-the-blue reunion. Regardless, as of now, MAHA is the only scheduled date for the band, and that alone makes it special. I’m highly doubtful this will be the only Desa show. There’s never been a better time for Oberst and Co. to reform as we enter a rather important political cycle. Are there any other significant political bands out there these days?

Josh Rouse is a singer/songwriter born in Paxton, NE, who now lives in Tennessee. He’s sort of a poor man’s Freedy Johnston, but certainly has his followers, especially in Europe.

Then there’s Icky Blossoms, who is being billed as “headlining the local stage,” which I guess means they play last on the small stage prior to the big stage headliners. I practically begged MAHA to book Icky Blossoms last year and (of course) they ignored me. I can’t say’s I blame them. MAHA is paying more attention to the band now that they’re signed to Saddle Creek. Funny how that happens.

MAHA has at least two more main stage bands to announce May 6. If you’re scratching your head wondering where the “new bands” are (Because let’s face it, all three bands announced yesterday had their heydays at least a decade ago), I have a suspicion the next announcement will fill that void. We’ll all just have to wait and see. As it stands, it’s not a bad start. Red Sky would have been lucky to get either Garbage or Desa (or Icky Blossoms). Instead, Red Sky confirmed that it’s cutting back its festival from 6 to 4 days this year. There are rumors that Red Sky’s local and smaller-band day stages in the parking lot also may be nixed this year as the “festival” continues to devolve into a country-music/hair metal concert series that competes with, what, county fairs?

More MAHA info at their website.

* * *

Speaking of Icky Blossoms, I caught their set at Earth Day Saturday afternoon in Elmwood Park. The band gets better every time I see them play. Imagine what they’ll sound like when they become road-hardened? Sarah Bohling continues to become more confident handling the vocals. Someone pointed out that she has a “tonal” voice — a mid-range mumble that cuts through the chaos, a grounding contrast to the pulsing rhythm section and grinding, squealing guitars. The added jet fuel of bassist Saber Blazek and drummer Clark Baechle now ratchet everything past 11. Prepare for liftoff, MAHA. The band has evolved to a perfect unit, though recent news that The Faint are reforming brings up obvious questions about how Baechle can be active in both bands. He’s the best drummer in the area, and is irreplaceable in both projects.

Bohling’s vocals are especially prime on Icky’s new single, “Babes” b/w “Chicas,” released Saturday as part of national Record Store Day. Between the two sides, I’ll take “Chicas” every time. There’s just something about the Spanish-language version that makes the song more lurid. The production by David Sitek throbs like a sweaty after-hours dance floor in Miami by way of Los Angeles (where it was recorded). Based on just this single, Icky Blossoms could be Saddle Creek’s biggest new signing since Tokyo Police Club. It comes down to how the label promotes the album, and, of course, touring, which is the biggest question mark about the band. Derek Pressnall, Nik Fackler and Baechle all are involved in two bands (Pressnall has Tilly and the Wall, Facker has InDreama and Baechle, The Faint). Not to mention Pressnall’s family obligations (he and wife wife Jamie (formerly of Tilly and the Wall) just had their second child) and Fackler’s film making career, which could reignite at any moment. Something tells me they’ll figure it all out.

* * *

My only other Record Store Day purchases were copies of The Mynabirds’ “Generals” single and the new PUJOL single “Reverse Vampire.” The PUJOL song is better than anything off their Creek debut EP; I’m looking forward to their upcoming full length. I also picked up a copy of the Bright Eyes/Super Furry Animals 7-inch remixed by Danger Mouse that was offered at the Saddle Creek Shop. To my knowledge, this single was never released, and is quite a find.

* * *

Tonight at The Waiting Room it’s Interscope pop band Imagine Dragons with local boys Skypiper. $12, 8 p.m.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

I feel an obligation to explain the cryptic message at the end of yesterday’s blog. The message: “One more thing: Omaha peeps keep a close eye on the various and sundry social media sites late today and into the early evening. More than that, I cannot say…

”

A few days ago I received an email notifying me of a secret show that was to take place at O’Leaver’s last night. The catch: If too many people find out before-hand, the band will cancel the gig, so don’t tell anyone until the night of the performance. Then yesterday at around 6, I got a text that said the show was off. Too many people had heard about it, so the band canceled.

I can’t tell you who the band is because doing so could jeopardize other future shows by this unsaid band. Of course, most people who live in Omaha and read this blog regularly know exactly who I’m talking about, and understand why this band lives under a paranoid veil of secrecy. Or maybe they don’t. I certainly don’t. What is the point of telling people that you’re doing a secret show, and then canceling the show because too many people know about it? And how many, exactly, is “too many people”? And how do you figure out that people are talking? Was a secret poll conducted of people huddled around Smoke Genies throughout the Dundee/Benson bar district?

“The numbers are in, boss. Thirty people confirmed knowledge of the show, with a high concentration located around Jake’s.”

“Fuck it, the show’s off. They knew the rules. I will not be defied.”

The whole sitch was the cause of much mirth at O’Leaver’s last night, where we came up with a new name for the band which combines the first eight letters of the band’s name followed by the word “pussies.” You do the math. I suggested that all this secrecy could hamper the band’s upcoming tour of national secret shows.

“Guys, I just cancelled Chicago. Way too much chitter-chat. And Minneapolis is in jeopardy. When I say ‘No talking,’ I mean no talking. They better learn: I WILL CANCEL EVERY SECRET SHOW ON THIS TOUR IF THEY KEEP IT UP. Now someone go text that…”

It sounds like I was one of the few people that got the 6 p.m. text saying that the show was canceled. I talked to a number of people in the large crowd at O’Leaver’s last night that didn’t find out until after they arrived. Well, at least they were treated to a fine set by McCarthy Trenching.

* * *

Speaking of secrets. A couple weeks ago someone tipped me off that Conor Oberst and Phil Schaffart were planning on opening a bar at 5004 Dodge Street in the old Pageturners storefront. Like the dutiful journalist I am, I emailed Phil and asked if it was true.

His response. “Yes, Conor and I are opening a lounge in the old Pageturners bookstore on Dodge st. We’re still in the planning stage but we hope to be open by mid summer. I appreciate your interest but was hoping you could please refrain from mentioning this in print for the time being? We have yet to be granted our Liquor License and we’d rather not draw any extra attention. Once all the dust has settled, I’d be happy to give you the details on the space and and what we’re planning for it.”

So what do you do? I could easily have ran with my information without contacting Phil. I already verified it via public filings. But I thought it would be better to get it from the horse’s mouth. And once I got Phil’s email, I felt obligated to sit on it until Phil said it was OK to run. I didn’t want to fuck up their plans.

Well, last night city councilman Pete Festerson tweeted about the bar, including its location. Moments later I got an email from Phil saying that The Omaha World-Herald

was about to publish a story confirming the information. “I apologize if the OWH is able to print this info before you as you were indeed the first to inquire.”

Oh well.

So here’s what I know. The place will be called Pageturners Lounge and will open in late summer. And that’s about it. I haven’t been able to talk to Phil, who is on tour right now with M. Ward. But when I get details, I’ll pass them along.

Again, this wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. Someone else had told me about it earlier yesterday evening, and I just nodded my head, knowingly. That person asked if Conor and Phil plan on doing live music at their new bar. I said I did not know. Having looked at the space myself, I could tell him that it’s a long, narrow room with a full basement.  Coffee-shop style performances might work; but I couldn’t imagine seeing a band there, but who knows (other than Phil and Conor, who presumably is sequestered inside a bunker deep within his Fairacres mansion)? I said I had a feeling that they may follow the Krug Park model, which so far seems to have been wildly successful at drawing a crowd by simply serving fantastic beer. Time will tell.

This morning’s OWH article

seems to confirm my assumptions. I think you can tell by its tone that Phil wasn’t too eager to talk about the project.

* * *

Cowboy Junkies at The Slowdown, April 19, 2012.

There were around 200 on hand for last night’s Cowboy Junkies show at The Slowdown, which turned out to be a “sit-down” affair. Rows of folding chairs were placed in the area in front of the stage, apparently to appease an older crowd. And I do mean older; I practically felt like a spring chicken. But in their defense, old people know what’s good and definitely know what they like, and there was a lot to like about last night’s performance.

Margo Timmons and the band came on at 8 and preceded to play two one-hour sets and an encore. The stage felt intimate in the dim light, with Margo seated out front next to a vase filled with red roses. If you’re a fan of this band and were there, you very likely were entranced. At times their set had that same hushed, haunted feel heard on their early records; at other times, they pulled back the lid and rocked. Timmons has a fantastic, even, ethereal voice on haunted songs about haunted lives. To their credit, their new album contains some of the best material of their career.

Chatting with a couple who drove in from Lincoln for the show, I guessed that the band wait until the encore to play their famous cover of Velvet Underground’s “Sweet Jane.” Instead, they launched into it as the first song of their second set, as gorgeous as ever.

I didn’t stay for the whole show, since I wanted to see McCarthy Trenching at O’Leaver’s. Opening was James Maakestad of Gus & Call, who played a set of rustic acoustic jams that highlighted his amazing voice. How would these sound with a full band? Do they even need to be fleshed out with anything beyond his voice and guitar? Maakestad stayed on stage to back Dan McCarthy on stand-up bass. McCarthy is Omaha’s Randy Newman — a musical genius who has a unique, funny and touching way with words. He sang a number of songs from his new album, along with “The Ballad of Dorothy Lynch,” which is bound to be an instant classic.

* * *

Briefly (because this is running long) here’s a recap of some of the better shows this weekend:

Back at O’Leaver’s tonight it’s Back When with Ketchup and Mustard Gas and New Lungs. Bring your earplugs, it gonna be loud. $5, 9:30 p.m.

Tomorrow at Elmwood Park it’s Earth Day. The full schedule of events is right here, but the highlight from a performance standpoint is Icky Blossoms, who play from 3:40 to 4:25. Should be a blast, and it’s free. More info here.

If you’re in Lincoln tomorrow, Duffy’s is hosting a benefit show for KRNU. The lineup: Great American Desert, AZP, Manny Coon, Shipbuilding Co., Good Show Great Show, Pharmacy Spirits, Sun Settings and Machete Archive. Show starts at 5 p.m. and suggested donation is $5. More info here. I only wish we had a KRNU here in Omaha…

And don’t forget that tomorrow is Record Store Day. Get out to The Antiquarium (check out all their cool-ass promotions), Homer’s and the Shop at Saddle Creek and buy some vinyl.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

Howard at The Slowdown, April 13, 2012.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

There was a respectable crowd of nearly 200 on hand for last Friday night’s Omaha Girls Rock (OGR) benefit at Slowdown, performed on the club’s “big stage.” When I arrived, most of the stage floor was filled for Howard. The most notable thing about the trio is frontwoman Anna McClellan, a little pixie with an ’80s bowl cut, oval glasses last seen in the movie “Tootsie,” and a big voice that’s a cross between Ethel Merman and Morrissey. With keyboards, guitar and drums, you could argue the arrangements were a bit spare, but McClellan filled the void with that booming voice of hers. Howard is getting people’s attention. From what I was told, the crowd was at its zenith during their set.

Gus & Call at The Slowdown, April 13, 2012.

The numbers waned slightly before Gus & Call went on stage, a pity since the band sounded like it was playing mostly new material — I didn’t recognize any of the songs. The set reflects a change in course for a band that used to be characterized by its slow, droning, electric-prairie style (call it boot-gaze). Friday night the songs were all upbeat and roaring and steps away from the the rural/roots style they’d been known for. The extended jams bordered on psychedelic, even prog, though G&C doesn’t play around with awkward time or key changes (thank god). G&C is one of the most promising acts from the area and deserves national attention. So how do they get it?

BTW, as noted, Friday’s OGR event also was a contest among all four performing bands (Sun Settings and The Betties played first). Each act had a week to write an original song based on the theme “superstition.” The crowd was polled for the best, and the winning band was Sun Settings. Their prize — they get to send one lucky girl to OGR camp. Congrats, SS. Too bad I wasn’t there in time to catch your set…

* * *

The MAHA Music Festival folks began selling $20 discount tickets to the Aug. 11 event this morning, and though they haven’t even announced a line-up, they sold out by noon. $35 ticket/t-shirt/poster combos are still available. Go to mahamusicfestival.com or their Facebook page for more info and check out their sweet new logo via Oxide Design. Look for a MAHA lineup announcement Sunday.

* * *

Tonight at The Waiting Room it’s NYC band Caveman, whose new record, CoCo Beware, was released this year on Fat Possum. With Betsy Wells. $10, 9 p.m.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

Well-Aimed Arrows at The Barley Street Tavern, April 7, 2012

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

No photos from Saturdays show because my Mac’s OS is being rebuilt again. What a pain in my ass. Maybe it’s time to get a new computer? I was way in back of a crowded Barley Street Tavern anyway and the photos weren’t exactly primo, as you can see by the crappy, off-kilter pic of Well-Aimed Arrows, above. WAA followed the very good six-piece known as We Live In Sod Houses, who opened the show, a rousing Americana punk band, sort of Decemberists meets Neil Young meets ’90s indie rock from somewhere in southwest Iowa. I only caught their last four songs, and was told that they’d been on for about 45 minutes before I got there — super long set. Sorry I missed the first part.

Well-Aimed Arrows’ set was the usual 30 minutes of angular post-punk that harkens back to greats such as Gang of Four/Wire/Minutemen/Fugazi. I love this band (as you know), whose members include Clayton Petersen and Koly Walters of The Protoculture (Erica Hanton of Kite Pilot, then Erica Petersen, also was in the band). Their album, Adult Entertainment, reviewed last July, will be the subject of a vinyl-release show May 25 with Millions of Boys and Dads at Slowdown Jr. Mark your calendars.

Finally, it was Kite Pilot reborn as a power trio featuring Todd and Erica Hanton and drummer Jeremy Stanoschek. Their new sound is much more post-punk and less poppy than the old version that was kicking around last decade. Todd’s trumpet is gone. Instead, he’s busy on keyboards and the occasional bass and providing very tasty vocal harmonies, while Erica’s bass and guitar work never sounded better. Performing all new material, their finest moments were ripping full-bore into blistering rockers that were among the best things I’ve ever heard them play, but they floundered when they tried their hand at arty, experimental prog, which suffered from awkward time changes and poor arrangements. As a whole, the trio has entered into an exciting new stage in their career despite the fact that they’re still trying to define this new sound.

* * *

Tonight at The Waiting Room it’s Americana rockers Good Old War with The Belle Brigade and Family of the Year. $12, early 8 p.m. start.

Also tonight at fabulous O’Leaver’s it’s Tucson band Seashell Radio with The Debts. $5, 9:30 p.m.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

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Get ready for Contextual Doom.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

It is with utter dissapointment that I fell asleep before heading out to The Waiting Room last night for the Antiquarium Subversion Showcase and seeing Capgun Coup. Though I can’t comment on their performance, I will say this about CC’s new album, Contextual Doom: It sounds like frontman/CC mastermind Sam Martin had an epiphany involving early Velvet Underground. The album, slated for release next month by ORG Music, has the same looking-through-a-dirty-window-on-the-Lower-East-Side feeling associated with, say, the VU & Nico album.

Half of the record involves laid-back “Sunday Morning” guitar riffs, tom-and-tambourine percussion and Martin’s own flat, seen-it-all-before vicodine-infused vocal delivery. It doesn’t get more slacker than on “My Bordumb Is Bored,” where Martin mumbles, seemingly with half-closed eyes, “I’m high as the ocean and my mind is commotion all my thoughts are unspoken and my heart it is broken…” The other half is garage ravers like “Claire Doesn’t Care,” which props up Martin’s lethargy like a dancing, twitching corpse. But even pumped up mothers like “Laugh/Cry” have a Velvet overlap — if you slowed the song by about 50 bpm you’d get something akin to “Heroin,” but with the lyrics, “Don’t it feel so good inside to have a good reason to cry? All your tears will dry.”

Martin is a musical enigma. He’s not so much Omaha’s version of Lou Reed as much as Omaha’s own Anton Newcombe — as unpredictable as he is talented, out there as much as out of control. And Capgun Coup is one of those bands that has a different life on vinyl than it has on stage. Their recordings (and no more than this one) are showcases for intelligent garage rock songwriting that nods knowingly toward the past while defining a better, if not slumped-shouldered, future. On stage, Capgun Coup is unpredictable — you never know what you’re going to get from gig to gig, which can vary from a taut, high-energy rock show to an extended, off-kilter caterwaul careening out of control. Whether triumphant or disappointing, they’re never boring. And neither is Martin, or for that matter, this album.

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For those keeping score at home, my latest column is in print and online right here at thereader.com and centers on the life and death disappointments of Game of Thrones. Check it.

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Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

The Mynabirds at The Waiting Room, March 23, 2012.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a fox or a coyote or a wolf plopped upon Laura Burhenn’s lovely head. For you vegans in the audience wondering, it’s not real, though the spirit of it is (However, it would have been even more effective had it been a griz head, just like ol’ Bear Claw’s in Jeremiah Johnson

). Everywhere she goes these days, Burhenn is photographed with that stuffed animal on her noggin, representing, what… rebellion? or the death of it, because nothing says futility more than the head of a dead animal balanced on your head, even if it resembles a plush toy.

Still, the crowd loves it, and when Burhenn put it on again at the end of the show, they went nuts, so I guess we all better get used to seeing it. If anything, it represents Burhenn’s new music, or her departure from the old(er) stuff from her debut. Friday night at The Waiting Room was the first time I’d heard any of it, and my impression is that she’s taken a hard right turn toward drama — even stoicism — on stage. All those months backing Conor on last year’s Bright Eyes tour pumped up the “importance” of her approach, as evidenced by her announcement about three songs into her set that her new album, Generals, is a a protest album with “a lot of anger.” She seems to have volunteered to take on the role as front piece for a movement that isn’t terribly well defined, but that she’s very serious about, and you should be too, even though a lot of what I heard Friday night sounded like love songs.

According to the press release, the forthcoming album, which arrives in June, “is both a protest record and concept album. It’s fueled by a full decade of Burhenn’s political frustration and aimed at finding a revolutionary yet pacifist way in a world where, these days, it seems warring comes quick.” The record is “filled with armies of stomps and claps, sweeping full spectrum orchestrations, and moments that range from intensely personal pleas to shout-out-loud protests with teeth.” For me, the best protest music is more subtle than that. Dylan’s best moments are met through metaphor. And some of the best ’60s political commentary is outlined in humor. Even Conor’s best political statements are draped in clever irony (“When the President Talks to God,” is an obvious example). Go too far with it, and you risk sounding too self-serious or preachy. Whether Burhenn suffers that pitfall, I’ll withhold judgement until I hear the record.

That said, such earnestness was marked as much by Burhenn’s between-song patter as the songs themselves, which you couldn’t really absorb from the stage Friday night. At one point, Burhenn congratulated the crowd for their support in getting the LGBT ordinance passed by the City Council, but added that the fight isn’t over yet, and that we’ll all be hearing more about it in the future. Yes, indeed. Despite the politics, most of the evening was dedicated to music and Burhenn’s new band. Gone are all the original members that hailed from Omaha — Johnny Kotchian, Dan McCarthy, Pearl Lovejoy Boyd, Ben Brodin and Alex McManus. I don’t know the story behind their departure, but have been told it had to do with touring availability. I can’t seem to find a listing of the new band members anywhere, but will say they all had the tact and talent of veteran support folks or session players. None of them stood out, but all were competent. This galvanizes the idea that The Mynabirds is fully a Laura Burhenn project. If so, why not just go by the name “Laura Burhenn,” especially if you intend to put your politics out front?

Look, I realize I’m asking more questions than providing a review. Musically, it all sounded fine. The new stuff  seemed less orchestrated and more poppy than the songs heard on the first album (which as a result, is a record I’ve come to appreciate even more). It’s too early to say if there will be a song on the new album as gorgeous as “Right Place” or as sing-along fun as “Numbers Don’t Lie.” Burhenn seems destined to be compared to Jenny Lewis, whose own music feels less constrained and more easy-going than Burhenn’s. But then again, Lewis isn’t a self-proclaimed writer of protest songs.

Opening band Big Harp continued on the hard(er) electric path that I briefly heard unveiled in Austin at SXSW. If you liked the simple acoustic two-step of songs like “Goodbye Crazy City,” you might be disappointed with the new blues explosion approach that recalls The Black Keys more than, say, Justin Townes Earle or Willie Nelson. Luckily, frontman/guitarist Chris Senseney has more than enough guitar and vocal prowess to pull it off and give Dan Auerbach a run for his money.

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Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

The enormous crowd at Stubb's watching Fiona Apple during SXSW 2012.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

Below is my full coverage of last week’s trip to Austin for the South By Southwest Music Festival. All of this content first appeared at thereader.com last week, so if you’ve been clicking over to that site daily, you’ve read this already. For those who didn’t click over, here it is in its entirety. Sit back with a sandwich and enjoy all 5,000 words of it.

A 1,000-word wrap-up also will be printed in this week’s issue of The Reader, along with my weekly column that looks at an alarming new trend at rock shows. The new issue will be on news stands Thursday.

Day 1: Wednesday, March 14, 2012.

I promised myself that I wasn’t going to kill myself this year at SXSW, but the way I felt this morning, I think I’m doing a pretty good job of it.

We got into Austin early yesterday afternoon, which I figured would mean an abbreviated show schedule. But no. We still had time to see nine bands. That’s the amazing thing about this festival and why I keep coming back year after year despite the obvious toll it’s taking on my body — you can see the hottest, most talked-about bands the same day as you get to see some all-time classics, sometimes in clubs literally next door to each other.

Onward.

After a lightning fast registration process (SXSW has figured out how to get you in and out of their convention center with a badge around your neck in less than 15 minutes) it was off to the first band: Nashville garage trio The Ettes at The Ginger Man, a dark, cozy out of the way club on 3rd Street that opens to a sweet hidden patio performance area in the back. People were lined up along benches facing the stage waiting for the overcast 3 o’clock sky to burn off whatever cloud cover had hung around from the morning. We wisely had “blocked up” before leaving the Hyatt Regency — overcast skies can be deceiving, and misreading them can mean a week of skin-peeling pain.

Despite having a tough(er) garage punk sound, The Ettes will never be able to shake their “cute factor” with adorable little Lindsay “Coco” Hames at the lead, with a sassy voice bordering on boopsy at times (but more Patsy at most), as well as her stage mannerisms, which are just plain endearing, even when she’s calling out someone in the crowd from Boston with “I’ll tell you about it after the set.” Countering her cuteness was the vicious cool of drummer Maria “Poni” Silver, who looked like she could take you AND your buddy in a fight, and look damn good doing it. Rounded out by red pants wearing bassist Jeremy “Jem” Cohen, they were one snarling unit, as Hames sweetly barked “I’m not not not not not going to break your heart.” What a way to kick things off.

Next on the list was Thee Oh Sees at Red Eyed Fly, one of a batch of clubs that sit about a block north of 6th Street along Red River, where arguably all the best clubs are situated. I saw the line snaking from the door into the street and asked fellow Omahan Mike Tulis (you’ll always run into a lot of local folks at SXSW) ‘what was the deal?’ He said it was the holdout line for a reunion performance from the classic ’90s band The Wedding Present.

Glancing at my watch, I knew we’d never make it inside in time for Thee Oh Sees, so we walked down the street to Austin favorite Mohawk Patio not knowing who was playing. Look, you can’t schedule every move of your SXSW experience or you’ll miss most of it. Go with the flow, baby. Have fun, that’s what this is all about.

On stage was a tall black guy standing alone torturing an electric guitar Prince-style backed by prerecorded tracks — your typical one-man band shtick. The Xeroxed band list next to the beer cabana said the band was Blood Orange — never heard of them. But a quick google later and I recognized who I was looking at. It was Dev Hynes of Lightspeed Champion, all growed up. I’d interviewed Dev for my column in The Reader way back in 2007 when he was in town recording a Lightspeed album with Mike Mogis at ARC Studio. Our interview back then concluded with a trip to Crossroads Mall, which was in the same state of decay as it is today.

Now here was Dev, easily a foot taller and looking like a college fullback despite wearing the same geeky round glasses that he wore while shopping in Target all those years ago. He apparently had turned his back on Lightspeed’s chamber pop for something more rock, soul and funk based that could turn into an astringent guitar solo at the turn of a dime. Despite his appearance, his high croon hadn’t changed. The packed crowd on the patio ate it up, grooving to his pre-recorded beats.

About halfway through the set and in the middle of a song, Hynes stopped. “I’m sorry, I know I’m just one guy on stage, but do you think you could wait until after I’m through with my set before you start loading in?” he said to either the stage grips or the band guys who had been fumbling around on stage behind him while he played. “I mean, what the f***? I’ll be done in 20 minutes.” The crowd applauded in approval, while the grips slunk off stage and Dev started back up again, finishing the song by jumping off stage and playing a solo in the middle of the crowd.

It was after his set that we got our first celebrity sighting. While sitting on a retaining wall that surrounds the patio, a small crowd formed around Dev, literally at our feet. Running up and giving him a big hug and a hello in her pseudo British accent was none other than fashion model Alexa Chung host of 24 Hour Catwalk, another in a long series of Project Runway-style reality shows. Okay, okay, maybe I should have said it was a “Lifetime TV celebrity” sighting.

We made our way back down Red River, past the still snaking line in front of Red Eyed Fly and stumbled into the darkness that is Beerland, a club that doesn’t “participate” in SXSW, instead hosting free shows all week long. On stage was the band with the festival’s possibly most offensive name, Puffy Aureoles, a HoZak Records punk band that in addition to sporting a hard garage sound also sports a saxophone. Frontman Teets took a moment between a couple rumbling songs to say something like “You’re gonna get a better show in here than in there,” referencing the Wedding Party show next door at Red Eyed Fly.

He was wrong. When we got out of Beerland we noticed that the line had shrunk to maybe a half-dozen people being let into the Wedding Present show on a one-in one-out basis. Thinking it may be the only time that I’ll get to see this amazing band, we took a chance and got in line and were rewarded with some witty-ness by the doorman, who looked like a ginger Scotsman. As we got closer and closer to finally getting inside, a guy in his 40s walked up to complain. At first I thought he was the doorman’s mate, but then he started getting in his face about how “he was from Austin, man, and I work in television and I know what you’re doing. I can see that there’s plenty of room in there. You’re on some sort of power trip. If you don’t let me in I’m going to post about this on my Facebook page.” We all busted out laughing as the doorman told the guy to f*** off and leave. The small crowd began to clap, and the doorman said “Dude, they’re clapping for me, not you.” The whiney Austin TV man scowled and eventually slunk away.

We got in seconds later, in time to catch most of The Wedding Present‘s set, and it was as if time had stood still for British frontman David Gedge. He looked and sounded as he did in the ’90s, despite being in his early 50s. I only own one Wedding Present album, 1994’s Watusi, but loved it then and love this band now. If you’re going to do a reunion, you best do it like this, without missing a single, stripped down, bass-fueled, cocksure, angular beat.  Someone bring them to Omaha, please.

Looking at the schedule, the next natural stop was Fiona Apple at Stubb’s, the huge outdoor stage just a street away from where we were. Though the set wasn’t supposed to start until 7:45, there already was a huge line for badge holders at 6, waiting to get in. But seeing as my back and feet were already killing me, it gave us a chance to sit down on the curb and recover while waiting in line. Within a half hour, the line was literally a half-mile long, stretching three blocks behind us cross a street and up and over a hill. Meanwhile, a second line almost a long stretched down the street — this one for people with wrist bands, not badges. People’s oh-shit reactions when they turned the corner and saw the huge lines were priceless.

Well, they began letting us in at 7 and we were in the door by 7:10 and so was everyone else. Stubb’s must hold more than 2,000 people, judging by the size of the crowd. At 7:45 she came on stage backed by about 5 people, including a keyboard player, and began braying through her set. I’ve never been a Fiona fan, but she plays so rarely I figured I’d be crazy not to catch her set, and besides, I really wanted to see the band that followed her.

It was the same flaccid Fiona I remember from the ’90s, a woman who I always thought got by more on her looks than her talent. Her music had more in common with wonky Broadway show tunes than rock, fueled by awkward arrangements and her own awkward stage presence, though the crowd absolutely loved her.

The second she got off stage there was a mass pilgrimage to the door, which was fine by me. I walked right down by the stage and got ready for Sharon Van Etten, who I’d really came to see. Backed by a small four-piece band and with guitar in hand, she performed a stunning set of indie folk reminiscent of Chan Marshall (Cat Power), but with better melodies. When I turned around after the first couple songs, I noticed that the place had filled back up to capacity, this time for an artist that deserved the attention.

Getting near 10 p.m. the streets were beginning to fill with the crazies. I took a quick stroll to nearby Elysium to try to beat the crowd for Zola Jesus, and got right in to see Philly drone band Amen Dunes, whose sound can best be described as Lithium-fueled underwater buzzcore rock sung by a team of tribal shamen. Actually, not bad if you’re into Nyquil rock.

But nothing compared to Zola Jesus, perhaps the most hyped indie band since, well, Lana Del Ray, though LDR has managed to leverage her hypeness into international fame. Zola Jesus is merely creating a rather massive cult of followers who view her as a second coming, and after last night’s gig, may be onto something.

Frontwoman Rosa Danilova is an indie Gaga — slight and almost fragile, wearing a ghost-white silky one-piece translucent draped dress, the tiny woman explodes into stage calisthenics the minute her band breaks into their dreamy, almost spiritual post-ambient rock that features synths, guitar and fantastic drums, while Danilova croons and prances on stage. I’ve heard her and her music compared to Cocteau Twins, and that did come to mind, though sonically there really is no similarity. Danilova, however, is amazing to see and hear on haunting songs that have a tendency to blend together, though it only makes the songs that stray from the formula shine even more.

I talked with fellow Reader music writer Chris Aponick during her set, asking how he thought she’d draw in Omaha. He thought she’d never sell out The Waiting Room, and pointed out there’s a reason why she’s only played down in Lawrence. He was right. As amazing as Zola Jesus is, the band is a hidden commodity in Omaha except for diehard indie fans, record store geeks and music writers. At least she is right now. I have no doubt that she could blow up as big as LDR if she ever got her break on SNL.

Finally at midnight, I made my way up to the 18th Floor of the Hilton Garden Inn and caught a solo acoustic set by ’90s indie rock legend Freedy Johnston. Freedy used to be one of my favorites, and his albums from the ’90s are still heard often in my car and earbuds. Despite my love for his music, I’ve never had a chance to see the former Lawrence-native play live, until last night.

There he was in the corner of the hotel’s sky lounge surrounded by rows of chairs and a crowd of 50 that was a mix of older people and a handful of young hipsters who knew a good thing when they heard it. Johnston complained of a rough throat and apologized for his voice throughout the set, but he sounded just fine to me as he played through the favorites including “Evie’s Tears” “Bad Reputation” and one of my all time faves, “Trying to Tell You I Don’t Know,” from his breakout album Can You Fly. It was a sweet way to end a sweet day in Austin. Check out the photos from Day 1.

Day 2, Thursday, March 15, 2012.

Another day of bands, but better weather at South By Southwest 2012. Let’s get right into it.

Typically, covering SXSW means a lot of walking around. There’s this falsity that all the venues are located along 6th Street aligned one right next to the other like a perfect string of pearls. In reality, SXSW venues are scattered across 100 square blocks in downtown Austin, with a few located even further away, including across Town Lake and on the east side of I-35. We’re talking miles and miles of walking.

But sometimes (if you’re lucky) you can cut down on the legwork if one, two or three bands are scheduled back to back at the same venue. Sponsors know this, which is why they schedule as many top acts as possible for their “day parties,” figuring you’ll say “fuck it, let’s just stay here,” when the band you came to see finishes their set.

For example, I kicked off yesterday afternoon by going to the Pandora day party at Antone’s, where I hoped to catch a set by Neon Trees. Since I knew that NT is currently trending, I got there early not knowing who was on the schedule. The name Incan Abraham didn’t ring a bell. The LA-based 5-piece (which appears to genuinely be unsigned) is one of the many new bands that have decided it would make good business sense to sound like Vampire Weekend. At one point during their set I wanted to yell, “Play something off Contra,” but that wouldn’t have been nice. Besides, no one was there to see them, anyway.

Half the crowd was there to see the next band, Neon Trees. This Provo-based band of Mormons (all are LDS members, according to Wiki) has the distinction of having one of the best frontmen in the business — the amazing Tyler Glenn. The second this guy takes the stage in his faux hawk and gold leather pants you know he meant business, and if you don’t, he’s going to let you know right to your face. Rarely has a frontman tried so hard to make a connection with his audience doing everything except pulling them on stage with him. He’s an in-your-face rock version of American Idol with a wicked sense of humor that will help him immensely when he reaches his final destination in Las Vegas. Pure showman.

As for the music, well, it sounded like someone grew up listening to The Cars, along with more modern pop like The Killers, a band who helped Neon Trees get signed to Mercury. You might have heard their music on Buick commercials, and something tells me they’ll be selling a lot of other stuff in the future. They’re a good time band that demands audience reaction, even if it’s 2:30 in the afternoon. Some did. Most did the ol’ standing-hump dance. Of note, Omahan Neal Duffy runs their sound. It was nice to see a friendly face behind the sound board. By the time you read this, Duffy will be headed back home, his tour of SXSW over, for now.

I said half the crowd was there to see Neon Trees. The other half was there for Glen Hansard of The Frames, The Swell Season, and the hunky leading man and Oscar winner for the music in the 2007 film Once. I didn’t know Hansard was on the slate at Antone’s, and was pleasantly surprised. He did about a half hour of fantastic personal folk, including the song “Gold” from Once, just him and his worn-to-shit acoustic guitar.

Hansard’s between-song patter is good enough for the stand-up circuit. He used it to coax Tom Meny onto stage, a YouTube musician who has covered one of Hansard’s songs online, which Hansard said was better than his version. He wanted him to sing it, but before he started, Meny whispered into Hansard’s ear that he’d forgotten the words! Instead, Meny added some tasty harmonies and told the crowd before he left the stage, “You’ve all experienced the best day of my life” — a touching moment.

Well, I couldn’t hang out at Antone’s all day, could I? Next it was off to the Mess With Texas party at the 1100 Warehouse, located on the east side of I-35 on 5th St. Getting there was an adventure involving crossing many lanes of live traffic with no stoplights (though a friendly cop helped us at one intersection). This event used to be held in a park just north of 6th St., but somehow they lost the rights to use the property. Unfortunate, because to say the airplane-hangar-sized metal-roofed warehouse had poor acoustics would be showering it with praise.

We waited about 10 minutes in the sweltering tin can for Cults to take the stage, and when they did, we held on for about three songs. Worst acoustics I’ve ever heard at SXSW; a waste of time for the bands and its fans. If that’s the best place Mess With Texas could find to host their day party, they’re better off not hosting one.

After the long hike back to 6th Street we set the bands aside and splurged on a sit-down meal at Annie’s on Congress Ave. and then went back to the hotel to watch some March Madness. Look, my non-stop days are over, folks, I’s gots to get some rest. And the way my night ended up, I’m glad I did.

I headed back out at around 9 to catch Secretly Canadian band Gardens & Villa at Mohawk Patio. The Santa Barbara band’s standout quality is a frontman that plays a variety of bamboo flutes (but not exactly in a Jethro Tull sort of way). With a regular drummer and a guy on an electronic drum kit, the band has more than a passing resemblance to Yeasayer, though not nearly as hippy-ish (even with the flutes).

From there, I figured I could sneak in a set from Grimes at the Central Presbyterian Church — yes, you read that right, it’s a big frickin’ church a block off of 6th Street that hosts shows for SXSW. Once inside, the kind-faced volunteers — obviously members of the church’s congregation — were selling coffee, scones and bottled water. They shepherded us into the main church and told us to take a pew. I wandered up to the balcony instead, and moments later (and what was 10 minutes ahead of schedule) a woman on stage asked to kill all the lights. The band that I thought was Grimes was, in fact, electronic duo Purity Ring who played a haunting set lit only by colored electric lanterns made all the more dramatic from the church’s spooky confines (which, btw, had remarkably good acoustics).

So apparently the church’s schedule was way behind, and there was no way I was going to be able to stick it out for Grimes because I had to get in line if I wanted to see The Jesus and Mary Chain at The Belmont at midnight.

I’m happy I got there when I did, at around 11, because I only had to wait in line for about five minutes. Once inside, it was a crush mob that would only become more crushing as the night went on. So packed were we that I could not raise my hand to scratch my nose without hitting the guy or woman standing next to me. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to hold this sardine pose for a full hour, not knowing that I’d have to do it for two-and-a-half hours. Good thing I took a leak at the church.

Before Jesus and Mary Chain it was a set by Titus Andronicus, who I didn’t recognize because frontman Pat Stickles had shaved off his wilderness beard, making him now look like Matt Whipkey’s long lost twin brother. I’ve seen Titus a number of times. They’re known (and proud) of their marathon-length songs, some of which are more than 10 minutes long and just seem to stretch on pointlessly forever, especially last night. No one wants to hear a 15-minute song about your eating disorder, Patrick, especially one with a repeating chorus that goes “Spit it out.” I will say this, it took cajones the size of melons to take a gig where everyone in the audience just wants you get off stage as fast as possible, and instead play these long, boring songs.

Finally, at around 12:30, Jesus and Mary Chain took the stage and played a ton of my favorite songs and a few I never heard of, one after another for over an hour. The Reid Brothers may be older, but they haven’t really lost any of their style. Jim’s voice is distinctively lower and grainier, but still has that thing that makes it unique. Meanwhile, brother William slouched off to the side with his axe and blew us all away with the shear volume of it all. As it stands, that was the highlight of my SXSW…. so far. Check out the photos from Day 2.

Day 3: Friday, March 16, 2012.

I’m writing this at 30,000 feet above some place between Austin and Omaha where dinosaurs once roamed the earth before the great Ice Age wiped it all away, long before anyone cared about weeklong music festivals in Austin, TX.

I recently had a conversation with another Omaha music critic who was giving me grief for skipping the last day of SXSW. “Why would you want to miss Saturday? I don’t get it.” Look, I said, I’ve never stayed in Austin for more than three days, ever. After three days of running around from 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. listening to bands, I’ve had more than my fill, thank you very much. I see between 25 to 30 bands over those three days. If you haven’t gotten what you need from the festival by then, you’re not trying. But that’s just me.

Day 3 started with a show sponsored by The Google on top of a parking garage just north of 6th St., providing gorgeous views of the chaos down below. The wind it did blow, and the sun it did scorch as Saddle Creek band Two Gallants took the stage sounding just like they did the last time I saw them a few years ago, before the duo went on hiatus, released their respective solo albums (to crickets) only to get back together again. Nothing had changed with their old-time ship-shanty folk rock sound. As always, when you hear one of their familiar tunes, you nod and say, “Aw right,” but if it’s a new song, well, you just want to get through it, especially after the 6-minute mark. Here’s yet another band that would improve immensely if they shaved three minutes off each song.

Like yesterday, I had no clue who else was playing the Google stage, and was pleasantly surprised to discover next up was Grimes, the “band” I went to see at the Presbyterian church the day before, but missed due to scheduling issues. On stage was pixie-ish DJ/vocalist Claire Boucher, working electronic backing tracks and singing one-woman-band style. Grimes’ music is brittle electronic dance stuff cast with a gothy Japanese sheen, thick deep beats balanced by her cooing voice. Later in the set a guy/person added even more percussion, but despite the head-bouncing beat, few (if any) were dancing. By the time I left, the half empty parking lot was really beginning to fill in, ballooning for day-party headliner The Shins, who would play in a few hours. Ah, The Shins. No thanks (though I liked them the first time ’round).

Instead it was across town to the coolest bike store I’ve ever seen — Mellow Johnny’s. In addition to having a gigantic selection of bikes, Johnny’s boasts a ton of apparel, a coffee shop, and for this week, a stage, where red hot Brooklyn punk band The Men (not to be confused with androgynous dance band MEN) played an afternoon show for about 50 fans and bike enthusiasts. The band is riding a wave of rave reviews, including a Pitchfork “recommended selection.” And I would add my name to that list for those of you into chunky Bad Religion-style rock. They’re loud and fast and raw, with dueling guitar riffs and a couple solid vocalists/screamers. But like a lot of bands in this genre, it all begins to sound the same after three songs.

The first part of my last evening in Austin was dedicated to the Saddle Creek showcase, held at a 2nd St. BBQ restaurant called Lambert’s. Whenever I tell someone I’m headed to SXSW, they always say, “Man, you’ve got to check out the Omaha bands and see how well they translate to an out-of-town crowd.” That would be a good idea, except every time I’ve seen an Omaha band in Austin, the crowd consisted mostly of Omaha people who made the trip. Such was the case last night for Icky Blossoms. I looked around and felt like I was watching a show in O’Leaver’s or The Waiting Room. There even was some guy I didn’t recognize wearing a Waiting Room T-shirt. Needless to say, the audience of 50 or so was gracious with its applause, and, in fact, IB put on a sterling set, especially for playing at a rib joint.

We left a couple songs into Big Harp’s surprisingly loud and rowdy set so we could get in line to see Eleanor Friedberger at the Merge showcase just a couple blocks away at a hot dog joint called Frank. I figured we’d have a hard time getting in, especially since their showcase capper was Bob Mould performing Sugar’s Copper Blue album, so I was surprised when they waved us in with our badges — no line at all. The cool little restaurant (everything is cool in Austin) never got crush-mob crowded, which is either a testament to the current state of Merge Records or the fact that Snoop Dog was performing across the street.

After a day of ear-bleeding noise, it was a treat to hear Friedberger do an intimate solo acoustic set. She’s a modern-day Joni or Janis (or Bowie), but with a self-assured lyrical voice that’s never cloying. This night she seemed distracted and slightly annoyed, and inasmuch said so during her set, telling the crowd that she’d been complaining just a little earlier, but that she was over that now. Her songs can be sad, but are sung with a voice laced in persistence, sounding not so much an optimist but rather a survivor. And I was literally standing right next to her.

So here was the sitch — Friedberger sang at around 8:45. Mould wasn’t scheduled to perform until 12:30. I could either leave and try to get back in and also risk being stuck way behind a roomful of pumpkin heads, or I could just hang out at Frank all night and soak in the other Merge artists. Easy choice.

I missed The Love Language to go upstairs for a chili dog and basket of waffle fries, but came back down for Crooked Fingers. In addition to once releasing a solo album on Saddle Creek, frontman Eric Bachmann has the distinction of (at times) having a voice that’s a dead ringer for Neil Diamond. Another distinction is his hulking 6-foot-8 frame that makes him resemble a Viking farmer in a trucker cap. With a solid backing band and a rack filled with guitars, Bachmann and Co. ripped through a set of folk rockers that at its finest moments recalled Richard Thompson. Again, I was literally right in front of the stage, and did my best to slump down so as to not block the people behind me.

I moved back a couple rows for the next act — Imperial Teen, a band that’s been around literally forever, and by that, I mean since the ’90s. Despite that, I knew virtually nothing, which resembled a group of schoolteachers (I would later find out that one of the guys was former Faith No More keyboardist Roddy Bottum). Don’t let appearances fool you — they rocked like The Pixies but without the pretention. I will now be searching out their catalog.

Finally, it was time for Bob Mould. He was preceded on stage by a crew of grips rolling in a stacks and stacks of Marshall and Orange gear, piled along the rear of the stage. Mould strode in with his classic blue Fender and began plugging in the pedals. The last time I saw him perform he was strapping young, clean shaven rocker. These days he looks like a wizened college professor or scientist, sporting a gray beard and extra pounds around the middle. With no fanfare, he looked over at bassist Jason Narducy (Telekinesis, ex-Verbow) and drummer Jon Wurster (Superchunk) and said, “I guess let’s just go” and tore into the opening chords of “The Act We Act,” the first song on Copper Blue. The crowd, of course, exploded. Mould sounded fantastic, his guitar work as lethal as ever, his voice achingly familiar. From there it was right into “A Good Idea,” “Changes” and “Helpless,” one after another. Unreal. Every one a heartbreaking anthem. And being performed about 10 feet in front of me.

After “Hoover Dam,” he stopped to explain how the show was a last-minute thing, how he’d just signed a deal with Merge the week before, and how the only thing left to do on the new album (slated for release this fall) was to record the vocals. With that, the band played what I assume were a couple new songs from that album, which were stunning. So no, this was not a performance of Copper Blue in its entirety (merely side one). However, after the last song, Mould came back out for an encore of “I Can’t Change Your Mind” that blew the place away. Mould clearly was having the time of his life, and so was the crowd, making it the high point of my SXSW 2012 experience.

It was well past 1:30 when I left the club. When I walked out, there was no less than 50 uniformed police officers in what looked like riot formation standing in the middle of Colorado Street, cop cars with lights flashing bordering either intersection. The moment felt tenuous and chaotic. I asked a guy what was going on, but all he said was, “Man, this is typical South By.” And with that, I headed back to Congress Ave. and my hotel, keeping my head on a swivel for whatever was going to happen next. Nothing did.

So much for South By Southwest for 2012. The old guys — Jesus and Mary Chain and Mould — were the standouts this year, though performances by Sharon Van Ette, Zola Jesus, Neon Trees, Eleanor Friedberger, Grimes and our very own Icky Blossoms were also on top of my list.  And you’re goddamn right that I’m coming back next year. Check out the photos from Day 3.

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Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2012 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.