You Missed It: The Monster Children SXSW Official Showcase Presented By Sonny’s Porch
all photography by the one and only, the glorious and INDELIBLE, Dougal Gorman.
Last Wednesday, we and six of our favorite bands descended on Austin, Texas, and delivered a show unlike any other.
To get it going, we partnered with Sonny’s Porch (the music program from our best friends in the whole world, Sun Bum), and brought down bar italia (London), Automatic (Los Angeles), Deeper (Chicago), Psymon Spine (New York City), dust, and The Belair Lip Bombs (Australia), and put on a showcase that not only showed off our taste, but the ability of our audience to stay awake and present and dancing from 8pm until 2am.
To start the night we had Psymon Spine, a band from New York City that is as much about composition and technicality as it is beating the fucking shit out of a guitar. Their combination of catchy riffs, electronic simmering, and ability to make my foot tap uncontrollably and my arms oscillate wildly made for an excellent begin to the night, as the crowd began to fill and lose themselves in Channels (this is a pun and an inside joke only for people who know the song Channels by Psymon Spine) of ecstasy.
Next up were The Belair Lip Bombs, a band from Australia that I admittedly was not very familiar with until the day of this show. Actually, no, that’s not true. I had heard their music when we were deciding who to book for this show some months back and thought, ‘oh, fuck yeah, easy choice,’ and then put my phone down and went to sleep. I became reacquainted with them the day before the show at Terry Black’s BBQ at which point I recalled thinking, ‘fuck yeah’. The next day, at this show, I was mesmerized.
Automatic followed The Belair Lip Bombs in a way that only three very intimidating and very talented musicians could: overcoming technical difficulties so strongly that they initiated a small upheaval in the front left side of the crowd. The delay in their set seemed to only build tension within the crowd who knew them by name, the tension finally released to the sound of Too Much Money and bass riffs that were both acute and infectious (hi, Halle :) you’re so good at guitar I think your band is great we are all big fans).
Trust the bum.
It’s hard to get a good crowd shot, especially from behind. To try and capture the size and scope of attendance from the back - which often is the only strategy through which one may be able to - is usually undercut by the fact that the back of the crowd never moves, is full of very tall, half-engaged people, most of whom are more concerned about where the next Modelo will come from than the band on stage. Still though, there were some bobbing heads in the back row during Automatic’s set. That one balding head, especially.
bar italia took the stage promptly and gracefully and produced the sludgy sort of melodic music that the crowd had gathered for. In fact, during their set, most onlookers simply stopped speaking, doing, or breathing. They couldn’t take their eyes off of bar italia, and I don’t blame them. Good folks, them. ADHD comrades. NA drinkers. Elegant smokers. Good folks, them.
Deeper and deeper and deeper.
Deeper took the stage and gave it away simultaneously. They are incredible in their ability to remain on stage while seemingly inside the hearts and minds and bleeding eardrums of the crowds they perform in front of. They are a relentless bunch, and we love them for it. Also, side note: Happy Birthday, Shiraz! We put it in the calendar to get you a cake but then we forgot to check the calendar. It’s the thought that counts, right?
dust - the good fellows that they are - waited from 8pm until 1am to play their set - the final set of the night - and it was a wait worth waiting for. Their performance absolutely blew the door down on us, the rest of the bands, and the several hundred nighthawk music fans who lurked about the venue. Their soaring and tightly-arranged melodies came down like beautifully raucous hammers on our unwitting heads. There is something to be admired and adored about a band that fully commits to the bit that is built into the very fact that they exist as a band and are performing on a stage, and dust fully commits to the bit. They kick and lunge and intimidate and don’t so much begin as much as they unleash themselves upon you for up to 45 minutes, and every minute is a joy. Well worth the late night.
All in, it was a great time. The bands were happy (their pockets and purses and gig bags stuffed with free sun cream), the crowd was happy (same for them), Naz was only slightly panicked throughout, and I heard someone got caught having sex in the mens toilets only two bands into the night, which is a good sign in our book. Thank you enormously to all those who came, all those who played, and of course, our illustrious and musically-oriented daddy’s, Sonny’s Porch.
