OUR FIRST SXSW, WITHOUT GUITARS

Our first hint that South by Southwest was going to be different from anywhere we’d been was the way people on our plane were dressed. Usually when we fly, most people don’t look like us. They carry babies instead of instruments, read Forbes instead of Spin, and actually look like they’ve washed their hair in the last week. The plane to Austin via Houston, however, was full of people who looked, well, familiar.

As usual, the travel itself was a bit of an adventure. Our plane was diverted to San Antonio because of fog in Houston, so that when we finally landed in Houston at noon we found, predictably, an airport full of frantic bands trying to get to Austin, not to mention trying to retrieve their instruments from Southwest. The next open flight wasn’t for six hours and even that wasn’t guaranteed. Austin was only 3 hours away by car—I called two car rental places, but they were already out of cars. Finally Annette called Hertz, who had one car, and she, Aaron and I grabbed our luggage and walked out into the Texas sun.

Three hours and one Velveeta-laden “Mexican” meal later, we pulled into Austin. We unloaded at the hotel and ran downtown to register—met our label at the Convention Center, got our orange wristbands, and were set loose into the cacophony of almost 2,000 bands playing one after the other in the space of about six blocks. 6th St was closed off to cars, and packed with musicians and industry people wearing badges, wristbands, and full hipster regalia.

You’d think living in New York City would inure me to noise and crowds, but I was overwhelmed almost immediately (I live in Park Slope after all), which made it hard for me to take advantage of being surrounded by free music. But I did get to see some amazing shows, most notably The Walkmen, and Old Time Relijun, both of whom I adore. Then I snuck off with a friend to the westernmost venue on 6th Street, past all the indie rock, to a second floor club with a wooden floor for dancing, where fiddler Elana James and the Continental Two were playing blistering Western Swing music. There I was in Austin, drinking a Tecate and swaying to fiddle waltzes. Not the usual SXSW experience, but sweet nonetheless.

After a day there, I couldn’t hear any more noise without making some of my own, so I finally just took out my fiddle and started busking in the middle of it all, on 6th St. I’ve never been filmed and photographed so much in my life, although I doubt anyone could actually hear me. So when it finally came time for Golem to play (plugged in and turned way up), it was a relief. We had no idea to expect, being rather different from the other bands—few violins were in attendance, not to mention accordions. But the audiences were amazing and seemed to really get us. Almost everyone in the crowd did the School of Dance dance (if you’ve seen Golem you know what I mean). And my personal favorite comment, overheard by Jacob from our record label, while waiting in line for the bathroom: “Man, you gotta check out that band over there. They DON’T HAVE ANY GUITARS!”

Never have I felt so normal, and so freakish, at the same time.