[Los Angeles, CA] I was in Austin for 24 hours and
I was DAMN WELL GOING TO SEE LIVE MUSIC. That’s not true – I was in Austin for
an unprecedented number of days but this was my one evening where I didn’t have
to negotiate what/when/where with a blessed soul, or, worse, convince a friend
that my what/when/where would be fun for them. Loving live music as a young
person in Austin, a young person with many female friends (male friends weren’t
all that much better), may have
been a key contributor to my comfort in doing things by myself so I could do
exactly what I want. When I was on the cusp of adulthood and had oh so many
ideals and goals, one of them was that I would move very single year, so I
could experience as much as possible. As of 2010, sixteen years out of my
family home, I’d lived in southern California, Las Vegas, and Austin –
California was my soul but Austin was my mind and heart. When my life of moving
started in earnest (every six months for multiple years) because of my career
path, my romantic path, I realized that I had changed or that I had been a fool
(more likely). Because I was bereft at leaving the community I’d built in
Austin over ten years. I survived, prospered in many ways, but Austin will
always call to me. And although a lot of my Austin people also no longer live
in Austin, other important people from my past live in Texas so this was a mini
epic road tour to see Everyone. Hurst, Denton, Anna (all Dallas/Forth Worth
adjacent) and finally it was time to head *home*. I gritted my teeth through
the quick mean bends of inner-Dallas, stopped at an epic Buc-ee’s. My heart
quickened when long stretches of little scrubby bushes appeared– they call it ‘the
hill country.’ I crested one of those hills to land directly on Mopac the
freeway, to a brighter sun, drivers waving
at each other, and music pouring even from gas stations. I stopped for a snack
and a little look over my favorite old alt-weekly, The Austin Chronicle.
I jabbed my fist in the air when my argument that the music scene is better in
Austin than Portland was proven straightaway, with ten viable (i.e., not cover
bands, not singer/songwriters) options with start times of 8p or earlier listed
on this day, a Tuesday. I met my cousin for dinner (with the restaurant being
christened by a Michelin star to cheers as we sat there) and walked along Manor
to the scents of weed and patchouli. Cousin had briefly tried to persuade me to
go to a more amenable show such that she might join me – I held steadfast,
trying to explain to her the magnitude of my evening. She was more relieved
than disappointed and I headed downtown. It was a dank warehouse with disco
ball and plants. This pleased me. I swore this was where CameraSmoothie and I
met up for a SXSW but google says it used to be a lesbian bar and now is a
place under a lot of financial and legal scrutiny (multiple guests ‘passing
out’ for unknown reasons) which doesn’t track with the low-key riverside leafy
place I remember. The artist was a beefy attractive man, dark-complected
because of his skin, his beard shadow, or the low lights. He had faded arm
tatoos and a t-shirt that said ‘SOCKM.’ Google won’t tell me what ‘SOCKM’ means.
Google tells me he is a Lebanese-American. There were seizure strobe lights
happening which I didn’t support. There was a screen behind him streaming ‘God
is War / War is God’ which I did support. Despite the artist’s ominous hot
presence, the crowd was real nerdy. It reminded me that Austin has become a
tech hub – little sister to San Francisco. There was one guy – oversized hoody
and ill-fitting pants, like the rest of the crowd - nodding his head along to
the music and throwing fingers, like he actually knew the artist – he got a
selfie with the artist after. I liked the booty bass industrial bits the best.
There was a lot of discordance, chaos, and repetition. I swore I heard a melodic
“Fuck the Police” but probably just dreams and goals. It was perfect ear- and
eye-candy for that evening but ultimately not impressed with his sound. I was
all about industrial music as a teen – I listened to Skinny Puppy to frighten
my mom – I listened to Ministry because they filled me with a dark joy (just as
they do to this very day) – and I listened to Nitzer Ebb because “Violent Playground”’s
an excellent song – but his music is boring – case in point, I relistened on
YouTube to write this and the YouTube algorithm took me into ambient nature
music.
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