Pitchfork

Shout Out Louds [Team Clermont/Under the Radar party; Flamingo Cantina; 5:00 pm]

The Shout Out Louds are one of the hardest-working bands at SXSW, playing countless day parties and showcases. So I expected this early evening set at a college radio party (taking place at a bar painted with murals of flamingos, no less) would be kinda blah, a tossed-off gig that wouldn't be very enjoyable for band or audience alike.

Instead, I was pleasantly surprised by a top notch professional performance. The dapper Swedes of the Shout Out Louds were full of energy, sweeping through gems like "Tonight I Have to Leave It" and "Impossible" like they were playing a sold out headlining show at the Bowery Ballroom.

I honestly don't understand why the Shout Out Louds aren't more popular. They are impossibly good looking, are signed to a big label (Merge), and write songs with mile-wide hooks that make for delicious earworms. Why haven't major sports teams adopted "The Comeback" for rally time? Why isn't "Tonight I Have to Leave It" in, like, every romantic comedy movie farewell scene?

Tribute to Lou Reed [The Fader Fort; 6:00-8:00 p.m.]

For some reason, the Fader Fort decided to stage an elaborate Lou Reed tribute concert right in the middle of the day, in between sets from Saul Williams and N.E.R.D. Why? Because he was the SXSW keynote speaker? Because Lou Reed is awesome and always worth paying tribute to? Because Lou Reed only wanted to be celebrated in front of people who RSVPed to an invite-only private party, rather than the general public? I have no idea.

Lou Reed (taking a picture of Yo La Tengo)

As is the case with pretty much any tribute concert or compilation album, there was much separating the wheat from the chaff. We sat patiently through mercifully brief two-song sets from Oh No! Oh My!, Joseph Arthur, Dr. Dog, and Ezra Furman and the Harpoons in order to get to the good stuff. And there was quite a lot of good stuff.

Yo La Tengo

Yo La Tengo tackled "She's My Best Friend" (with James McNew handling lead vocals) and "I Heard Her Call My Name (with Ira Kaplan on lead vocals and searing guitar solo), as Lou himself stood off to the side snapping photos.

Mark Kozelek

Poor Mark Kozelek, alone with an acoustic guitar, battled a crowd more interested in drinking nuclear bright blue Southern Comfort concoctions than listening to his lovely takes on "Stephanie Says" and "The Kids".

My Morning Jacket

My Morning Jacket blazed through "Head Held High".

Thurston Moore and the New Wave Bandits

Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore, accompanied by a band that included Samara Lubelski and Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley, absolutely murdered (in the best possible way) the rarity "I'm Not a Young Man Anymore". Moore channeled Iggy Pop, crawling and rolling around the stage, diving into the crowd, seething with punk energy. It was the wildest performance I've ever seen him give. It was the ultimate fuck you to people who think rock'n'roll is strictly a young person's game.

Moby and Laura Dawn

Moby closed the show. First, he played a note-perfect cover of "Femme Fatale", featuring vocals by singer Laura Dawn, who did such an accurate Nico impression, folks around me kept asking each other if the infamous German chanteuse was really dead.

Moby and Lou Reed

Then, Moby had the honor of sharing the stage with the man of the hour himself. And you would never guess what they played! (Kidding.) "Walk on the Wild Side", OMG! Their version was actually quite lovely, a subdued take featuring only lightly strummed guitar and vocals, with drums coming in at the end to add heft. Sure, it was weird watching Lou Reed trade verses and guitar licks with Moby, but you know what? The little guy held his own.

The tribute ended in the most appropriate way possible, with Lou Reed stroking his own giant ego. His arms raised in the air like a victorious prizefighter, Reed barked, "I love punk rock! And I was the first one!"

Bellafea [12 a.m.; Habana Calle 6]

North Carolina punk band Bellafea are most likely best experienced in their natural habitat: the grimy basement of a squat in an abandoned loft, or some such DIY space. They are most definitely not best experienced in the immaculately clean lower level of an expensive Cuban restaurant, on a stage festooned with lights and greenery. The awkwardness of the setting sapped a bit of momentum from the trio's old school emo/math rock interplay, and frontwoman Heather McEntire's bottomless howls were a bit muffled compared to the explosiveness of their excellent debut album, Cavalcade. Nonetheless, for people who just can't stop craving the sound of early Rainer Maria (c'mon, it can't just be me and Matthew Solarski, right?), I can't recommend Bellafea enough.

The Wombats [1 a.m.; Maggie Mae's Rooftop]

The charmingly nerdy boys of Liverpool's the Wombats are big stars in England, but here in America, I usually can't bring them up without getting mocked. First of all, they call themselves the Wombats, and even have a stuffed toy wombat they carry on tour with them. Second, they sound like a less macho, more indie influenced Weezer. (Yes, it is possible for a less macho Weezer to exist.) Third, their singer/guitarist has a receding hairline and bald spot which he tries to hide with floppy, curly hair.

Since I am a complete and total cheeseball, I love this band. Their pop-punk ditties sparkled and popped live, played with sugar high intensity and utmost professionalism. I totally want to go to the mall with these guys.

Justice [3 a.m.; Playboy party]

Photo by Beth Martinez

If you ever get the chance to see Moby and/or Justice DJ at a warehouse party, do it. Seriously. Even if said warehouse party is being thrown by Playboy, and there are Playboy Bunnies there, and the place is crawling with the kind of guys who hang around Playboy Bunnies. It's worth it, I'm telling you.

Think what you will about Moby, but dude knows how to rock a dancefloor. I don't know how he managed to make stuff like Basement Jaxx's "Where's Your Head At" and Guns n' Roses' "Paradise City" sound fresh and exciting, but he did. Maybe I was just delirious with exhaustion?

As for Justice, they stood there smoking cigarettes, looking impossibly hip, spinning the hits. Just being in the same room as those guys made me feel like a sleek, sexy VIP who was totally used to hanging out with Playboy Bunnies, whatever, no big deal. And hey, isn't that what the transformative power of live music is all about? Making you feel really, really cool?