After missing out on a couple of Waterloo Records in-store performances the past two days, I longed to spend the afternoon combing through their bins today, drinking beer (inside the store, wha, what?!?!), and watching a few buzz bands in the unconventional and really bright playing space. Free in-stores always attract a decent crowd of penny-pinchers who want to see a lineup of diverse acts within a few-hours span and spend-thrifts who can see those same diverse artists but also spend buckets of cash on Waterloo's mass amounts of books, DVDs, toys, shirts, CDs, and vinyl, be they of the Handsome Furs or Dan Fogelberg variety.
I did not make it to who was probably the busiest band at SXSW, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, earlier in the day (nothing personal; I woke up late and was en route during their set), but I spied their frequent gig partners {caUSE co-MOTION!} (pictured) at the record store mecca. No worries; I would rather be on site to see Brooklyn's masters of reverbed jangle anyway. It is easy to see why people are warming up the foursome's forms: short song stabs of DIY indie mayhem delivered with a complete lack of pretense. What's not to like? Maybe everyone in attendance felt a tiny bit sad for Arno when he sang, "Which way is up? 'Cause I'm feeling so down," but we couldn't echo his sentimental predicament; we were too busy basking in the undertow of his band's overjoyed pop.
What would a hip-hop show be without technical difficulties? I don't really have any snappy comeback for that ominous question. I assume it would be a hip hop show without technical difficulties? But it would be rare for this reviewer. Despite the numerous snafus that happened during {The Knux}'s show (mic and turntable cut-outs, a stealth helicopter blindsiding the building, etc.) the Lindsey brothers, Krispy Kream and Rah Al Millio, never once batted an eye and soldiered on wowing the crowd with their personable wordy rhymes. Actually, they may have batted an eye, but it was only during a wink and a smile. Vowing to turn the store into a club, the duo-plus-live-crew damned near accomplished that, as they ran through (broken or unexpectedly a capella) versions of their most popular cuts: "Bang! Bang!," "Fire," and, of course, "Cappucino." The latter even had people claiming to be there "only for the records" bouncing. It is hard to hate something for being commercial viable when it is delivered with such positivity. Krispy Kreme demanded that people buy Knux t-shirts after their set, but I think I may have been the only one who saw that as optional salesman stage banter. I've never see a band sell so many shirts after their show. The power of positive suggestion, I guess.
{The Bird and the Bee} closed out the record store shows for the day, and they couldn't have drawn a bigger crowd if they had played nude. Nekkid or fully clothed, 99% of the audience was already in love or falling in love with the lovely songbird Inara George, who got both the boys and the girls schweaty with her wispy vocals and cute patter. The duo of George and Greg Kurstin predictably played their barca-lounge hits like newbie "Love Letter to Japan" or "Fucking Boyfriend" to the audience of between-song mellow yellers, but they also took a stab at Hall & Oates' "I Can't Go for That (No Can Do)." When George claimed the version was going to be on an album of covers the band were recording, a guy next to me shouted, "THAT IS A TERRIBLE IDEA!" which drew the ire of the crowd who shot daggers at him the rest of the show. I am not sure if he was right or wrong, but his rebel yell had me in giddy hysterics for the rest of the day.
