My annual relationship with South By Southwest goes through phases. There’s the (1) initial sensory overload after the lineup announcement (imagine finding an efficient way to filter an alphabetical list of 2,000 bands), the (2) curmudgeon phase when I feel like “sitting this one out”, which is overcome by (3) my friends buzzing about hot shows, and finally (4) my submission to the tornado that is the 10 day festival. March is about the time that I emerge like a grumpy bear from the mild but dreary Texas winters. After months of cold and house-bound dormancy, months spent in scratchy sweaters dreaming of swimming and pints of beer on downtown patios, I forget how generous Austin is with warm weather and good times. Every year, I take to the budding spring city anew for SXSW without any expectations, and I have an amazing time reconnecting with its streets, its natural spaces, and with its weird and wonderful people. I’ll remember my SXSW experience this year for the spontaneity of incredible street art and fireworks, visceral performances from hungry artists on the come-up, seeing old friends and meeting new people.

But bad vibes were in the air for this year’s festival before it even began. Is SXSW too big, too dangerous, too corporate, too far up its own ass with “innovation”, overreaching for the millennial buck? These questions hung in the air for weeks and were blogged to death. I was skeptical.

Patricia and I begin our adventure at the parking garage of Brackenridge Hospital on 15th St. (file under work perk, not pro tip). While walking south on Red River towards the masses, we were caught off guard by a wall of fresh paint behind the Brick Oven pizzeria on 12th.

The street images evoked the themes of the festival: the coupling of technology and life, public perception, food, creativity, transformation. I suspect the second image was inspired by Austin artist Tim Doyle, whose knack for creating massive, comic book creatures earned him a memorable cover on a special edition Austin Chronicle a few years ago. The image of a bionic, sickly whale, branded “SXSW” and struggling in chains against an anchor, was a foreboding start to the day. It was a clear reference to the swirl of public doubt about the viability of the festival. But it’s amazing how the world can prove you wrong when you’re pessimistic. We walked the last few blocks, through the containment barricades and into a sea of people.

We burned the afternoon at Red 7: The Brooklyn Vegan showcase, reluctantly plunking down fivers for cans of Lone Star and moving in and out of doors for the two different stages. We arrived in time to see a few songs by Basecamp, an electronic music trio from Nashville. The singer’s clean R&B vocals were pushed far forward in the mix, accompanied by soft synth loops and crisp beats pounded out on a tabletop electronic drum kit. They had a nice radio sound that had heads bobbing in the dark bar.

We moved outside after they finished up and camped out beneath a huge canvas tarp strung up for shade. Women in short skirts and glittering tops floated by, handing out free samples of Swisher Sweet cigarillos and branded koozies. Between performances, we moved to sideline benches and watched the crowd thin and swell with punks and industry types, old hippies and nervous kids, international travelers. People-watching during SXSW is literally a world-class activity.

A group out of Dublin called Girl Band took the stage and unpacked their gear, looking like kids who skipped class to be there on time. I don’t think anybody could have anticipated the chaos that they wrought on the crowd of 50+ people. The bassist and drummer conjured up a doomsday thunderhead of noise, and the front man, a blonde haired J.Bieber doppelganger named Dara Kiely, began to scream as if he was burning alive. The bassist played like he was trying to destroy the instrument, bending strings and violently sliding a beer bottle up and down the neck. The melodies were patterned with the bass, giving the guitar player free range for his glitchy riffs, or shrill, almost violent tension-building, reminiscent of Daughters or early Dillinger Escape Plan. He had a pedal set on the ground that looked like a Boeing control panel, and his chords were filthy with distortion. Girl Band pulls together elements of noise rock, no wave, even the buzzy bass of dubstep; but with its nice pop structure, it’s like Diet Brutality.

They punched out a few 30-second songs between the longer tunes, and ended with one that had the singer drowsily intoning a nihilism of “I could but I won’t” over and over again. Kiely’s vocal dynamic shifts from Fugazi meets Pissed Jeans-style mumbling and wide-eyed heaving screams that seemed to exhaust him. I recall one lyric in which he calls out some asshole who “starts every sentence with ‘I know I’m not a racist, but…” It was really good fun to see such young lads put on an explosive and downright killer rock ‘n roll show. Check out the VHS throwback music video for their 2014 single Lawman here. I know I’m keeping an eye out for a full-length release from them.

The next band on our list was Broncho, a garage rock band out of Oklahoma and a bit of a darling of local radio. The group played a loud, sweaty set under red lights which ended with their single “Class Historian” to the delight of the crowd.

At 5:00 PM, Red River Street, the unofficial Music Row of Austin, was packed and the air was rich was with the smell of smoked BBQ and fried noodles. With the addition of over 100,000 customers into the local scene, trailer food is a profitable enterprise and a big hit every year. But we skipped the line of food trucks and opted for BestWurst, a local favorite and what could be called an institution of sausage. They make a mean two-handed bratwurst with fried onions, sauerkraut and spicy mustard. It’s so good that you don’t even mind wearing it on your clothes when it inevitably slides out the back of the bun.

With full stomachs, we headed east on 6th Street, past the ever-changing rows of bars, past the artists hawking CDs on the corners, the stern crossed-arm officers on horseback, the hobo playing Dylan covers on an acoustic guitar, a percussion group in African tribal digs, a man in a wolf’s mask playing violin and collecting tips in a plastic jack o’lantern. Sixth Street is a kaleidoscope of human spectacle.

Beer bottles, plastic wrappers and discarded swag had accumulated along the gutters of the street. The air is supercharged with the energy of thousands of people already drunk, stoned or just happy to be off work in the capital city. If the dollar collapsed and society crumbled, downtown Austin would look about the same as it does every year during SXSW. Our destination was further south – the Lady Bird Lake stage at Auditorium Shores – for the long-standing consolation show intended for native Austinites. This year’s lineup featured Charles Bradley, Ryan Bingham and Spoon.

We stopped at a Congress Avenue liquor store for some sodas. The clerk, a quick-talker with a ponytail, chatted us up and revealed that he had been attending SXSW for over 20 years. He even let us in on a “secret” website showlistaustin.com, which is a no-fuss user friendly way to filter upcoming shows. He spun the monitor of his computer around for a demonstration. Neither of us had heard of it. In Austin, it’s best practice to talk to everyone you can. The city is full of great stories, and the people who are mixing your drinks, manning the pedicabs, or even asking for change outside the Driskill almost always have something to say that’s worth hearing, even if it’s a tall tale from the glory days of the Armadillo World Headquarters.

With renovation complete on a $3.5 million dollar improvement project, Auditorium Shores looked fresh and ready for visitors when we arrived before sundown on Thursday. The 17 acre park is a frequent host to public events, and the music is staged in the foreground of a big photo-op view of the skyline. The renovation project was enabled by a donation from the Austin based event group C3 Presents, which puts on the annual ACL music festival in Zilker Park. This partnership has been a controversial one, but it was refreshing to see bright green Bermuda turf in a city park that had endured constant abuse before the renovation. We met up with some friends in time for Charles Bradley who, at 66 years old, looked as rowdy as ever. As the drums crashed and the guitars shrieked a final crescendo, he ran out into the crowd, slapping hands and wrapping his arms around his fans. It was pure magic.

Austin’s own Spoon were the final act of the night. The group has been crafting thoughtful, consistent rock albums for over 20 years, seemingly unaffected by the ups and downs of a music industry in crisis. Singer Britt Daniel opened things up by saying he was proud to play a show that was free for the people, “as it should be during SXSW” to thunderous applause. The group worked through their hits, “Do You,” “Inside Out” and “Rent I Pay” from their 8th and latest album, They Want My Soul, the unofficial Austin summer soundtrack of 2014. They reached into the past for fan favorites “I Turn My Camera On,” “The Way We Get By,” and “You Got Yr Cherry Bomb.” As the construction cranes disappeared in the darkness, the city lights came on, and Austin’s iconic indie rockers had a crowd of 50,000 on their feet and dancing, everything was as it should be.

The last surprise of the night was a long and fantastic fireworks display dedicated to the memory of Brent Grulke, the first production manager for SXSW and the festival’s creative director for 20 years. His two rules are the backbone of the festival: music for all, and all are welcome.

Is SXSW big, bad and dangerous? I don’t think so. Although there were noticeably less superstar acts this year, I think the real festival spotlight has always been independent artists on the come-up. Dangerous? In my opinion, last year’s tragedy was not an symptom of SXSW over-indulgence, but rather an isolated incident that coincided with the festival.
Is SXSW too corporate? Probably. But corporate presence is not unlike a highway billboard; it disrupts the big view but everybody keeps on driving. Besides, big companies are what make the festival happen. Period.
Most importantly, is it a hell of a lot of fun? Absolutely.