South By South West - A Retrospective pt 1

Our time in Austin, Texas - the week long home to a whirlwind of musicians, managers, producers, labels, fans and so on - is best summarised by this text I got off Johnny one balmy evening: 'Still driving. Don't know where we are. On the back of a pick-up. Fucking cold.'

To leave it at that though would be a crime. So here for your eyes only is a little verbal taste of our most recent adventures in the US of A.

TUESDAY - Day One

The flight over was a strange one. Anyone on the plane who wasn't hideously fat was obviously in a band and was obviously trying to make it look like they were not in a band, such are the constraints of the United States' Visa System. Still, even OX.EAGLE.LION.MAN who dress like four identical followers of an amateur undertakers got past the toughest immigration system on earth with ease. God Bless America. The air is hot here, sweet and full of bird song, and the moon is rather bizarrely upside down - it looks much like the smile of a cartoon cat. Both Johnny and I laughed when we saw it. Maybe, just maybe, it was because we were too tired to cry. No, actually, probably not.

WEDNESDAY - Day Two

Today saw enrolment in the huge 'convention centre' (two words I associate with Hurricane Katrina and which thus make me nervy), and our first gig. We arrived at the BMI party at the Mohawk by foot, passing Texan men who looked like Johnny Flynn (I have the photos) and a healthy mix of both American and British industry wankers. On stage before us were an odd band who wailed. They resembled one's dad, and have probably put on an ale festival sometime in the last year. Unfortunately they also left the club with their drum kit, leaving us without and in the lurch. To our musical rescue came Ryan Hadlock - the producer of our record who we haven't seen for months. He rounded up the necessaries quickly and with Seattle Panache, allowing us to play. Relieved, we went on, terrible on-stage sound and the breaking of many, many guitar strings not stopping us from playing a rousing set to a good crowd (execs and US fans included). Today's set included an acapella ending of Tickle Me Pink, the guitar had by then refused to play.

After some well earned grub and beer in the VIP area, we went our separate ways - me catching RA RA RIOT (ok), Akron Family (intriguing) and Saul Williams (a green suited poet whose songs were no where near the greatness of his spoken word), before meeting up again, along with Ryan's lot and our Label men, for a dinner bought for us by Universal. Can't complain. Except about the food and the company. I'm kidding.

The day wasn't done. We headed to a car lot and a solar panelled stage to watch Langhorn Slim and then (after failing to get into the REM show) took a cab to the other side of town to see Okerville River play with Roky Erikson. The story was amazing, a cool band playing with a Texan hero, a man who survived the wreckage of drugs and was once again back to his melodic best. But the gig was awful and we left to get drunk.