Another SXSW has come and gone in a mind-addled, Sparks-fueled hurry, and just like every other virtual self-professed music lover, Austinist is taking a moment to reflect. You'll no doubt get your fill of commentary on the business of SXSW, the delicate balance between branding and community, our city's perceptions about the music industry and its impact on them as music lovers elsewhere. There are no doubt oodles of performance reviews as well (follow this post's jump for a handful of those), but the most impressive (and arguably vexing) facet of this year's SXSW for me was the always astounding dedication of the musicians who make it down here each year.

Impressive because of what an ordeal it can be for some of these groups to come down. The artists plan tours, fill out piles of paperwork if coming from overseas, find a place to stay, lug their equipment around all week, play as many shows as possible for free, and at the end of it all, hope against hope that someone influential on the web or in print (or who is named Matt Pinfield) feels moved by it. Even those groups that are courted into coming down feel the strain after a few days of furious loading, unloading, walking, loading, and hand-shaking. One of my favorite moments all weekend was Shining's performance at Emo's on Saturday night, mostly because the music is incredible live, but also because this group spent an incredible amount of money to play here and dealt with an awful lot of hassle with work visas simply because they love to play, and they hope that Americans end up liking it. In storms the vexing aspect: this party is a whole lot of work, and after the confetti settles, the organizers pack up, and that guy on the igloo-as-tricycle at the Blender party passes out under the fake red carpet photo booth of shame, some of these folks are trying to play music as their job, and deserve our respect and admiration. I've started a list of bands that I've seen mentioned frequently in the aftermath, and I've made a pact with myself to go buy a few records based on nothing but enthusiastic referrals (for once) to redeem myself for enjoying so much free joy.

I heard Phosphorescent's Matthew Houck joke about not feeling stressed during SXSW, saying something about how it was just great fun to see friends, play music and be included. I can only hope that other groups fly home from Texas with similar thoughts, we'd hate to miss them next year. -Paige Maguire

Reminiscing With Fucked Up

It's no secret that SXSW is a monstrous corporate monolith and has been for years and years now--that's part of it's charm, and anybody complaining about that fact might as well be whining about not being able to smoke in church. Still, the greatest memories to come out of the conference are bound to be off-the-cuff, sweat-and-beer-soaked affairs that occur in the shadow of all the bizmongering. Nowhere was that more the case than Wednesday night's Fucked Up show at Trailer Space Records. For many young folks, myself included, F*d up are rapidly becoming the main attraction at SXSW--their show at the Town Lake pedestrian bridge last year was a marvel of uncontrolled mayhem, and 300-lb lead singer Pink Eyes, whose wardrobe appears to be going through a mid-'80s b-boy phase, projects as much effortless charisma into the 1200-ft retail space as he does at Emo's or Waterloo Park. Locals Branch Davidian and Total Abuse brought local flavor, F*d Up tourmates The Tack In Black reclaimed '90s emo from MySpace hair bands, and Olympia, WA's Flipper acolytes Sex Vid provided the head-bobbingest moment of the whole festival when they opened their set with a surreal tape loop of what sounded like 1960s Mexican dance music. Time between sets was passed by flipping through Trailer Space's excellent vinyl selection--luckily the place doesn't accept credit cards, it wouldn't be difficult to go eyeball-deep in debt in a place like that. -Matt DeWitt

SXSW Recap: Orange Twin Showcase at Spiro's

One of this writer’s SXSW highlights was the Orange Twin records showcase on Wednesday night at Spiros. The band Nana Grizol impressed the small but enthusiastic crowd with bountiful energy and bouncy song structures, while also featuring the skills of horn player Laura Carter (Elf Power) and Madeline Adams on bass, who had played a solo set earlier in the evening. Elf Power ripped it up next, previewing songs from their new In a Cave record while also trotting out some old favorites like “We Dream In Sound” and closed their set with the raucous guitar duel of “Skeleton.” As loud and in our face that performance was, it was nothing compared to the set to follow. Prior to Dark Meat’s arrival on stage, a rumor had begun to circulate that the band were all dropping acid, and their set erased whatever doubt may have lingered. Ostensibly playing The Stooges’ Fun House in its entirety, the pure noise (four guitars!), drawn-out songs, and lead singer Jim McHughes’ unhinged anger made a fantastic if frightening impression. -Adam Schragin