mariachi with kilts

the best band you've never heard of led off the show at the Easy Tiger, a plum outdoor venue right on Waller Creek, a stream tamed by concrete in downtown austin.

The Scottish Music Industry Association's showcase featured the cream of the Scottish crop (would that be oats?) in rock/pop/DJs right now, and Woodenbox kicked the "arses" of the other lads and lassies that followed. It was like The Clash was born in the Mississippi Delta,  went to Chicago, found some horns, and headed south to Tijuana. I am not making this up.

Paleo conference--more tomorrow.  Turns out gluten is bad for you...shhhhhh...

And SXSW? Well, I met an artist, a couple of musicians, and someone whose card reads "Director of Interactive Marketing." And there was a twentysomething staggering about loudly quoting Gwendolyn Brooks--"We Sing Sin/ We Thin Gin," and I stopped him--"You're a writer," I said. "Ain't nobody else would know that poem." "Yeah, man!" "What are you writing?" "Rock and roll songs," he laughed.

THOUSANDS of people on the street at midnight. The men, however, do not look well kept. As if liquor and weed might wear on one after awhile, even at twentysomething. They are, however, keeping Austin weird.

Tonight? A movie, I think--I will have to sleep sometime, though.
"Hey!" I said to my new writer pal. "Go write novels. That's what we need. Novelists."
"Thanks brother!" he shouted as I made my way back up Congress Street in poorly chosen footwear.
Indeed.

The links: Scottish Music and Woodenbox
               "We Real Cool"