I kept hearing about them during the first two days of SXSW - Cool Kids this… Cool Kids that - it really seemed like they were the buzz artist to see at this year’s SXSW. Once they went onstage at Emo’s I instantly knew why. Overall it was just an incredible lineup between Kid Sister, A-Trak & Clipse (photo’s from The Clipse portion of the show are here) taking over Emo’s main room and the Cool Kids fit right in and without question played an amazing set that the crowd was completely feeling. Cool Kids also played the Red Bull Moontower - video footage from that will be up pretty quick…

Chiodos performing “Bulls Make Money, Bears Make Money, Pigs Get Slaughtered” Live at the La Zona Rosa at South By Southwest 2008 in Austin:

For the second year in a row, Playboy and C3 put on a late night party at SXSW, and for the second year in a row, I was lucky enough to attend.

While last year, the party was housed in a giant warehouse-type thing in the middle of nowhere, this year’s event was right downtown at a giant warehouse-type thing at the corner of 3rd and San Jacinto. The line circled the block and even the media entrance was swarmed by 11 PM.

Inside, there seemed to be a new adventure tucked into every corner: free barbecue; free drinks; a room full of Port-A-Potties that also housed a Rock Band hooked up to a television the the back of a car and a well lit area with a backdrop for crucial drunken photo seshes. The people were fascinating to watch:

• There was a surly red-headed bartender. She admonished people for taking too long to order their drinks; allowed her “regulars” to skip in head of the line; and when a particularly douche-y party goer knocked over her stack of plastic cups, she fixed him with a steely glare and lectured, “Really dude? Really?” Yeah, dude. Really? One day I’m going to marry that girl.
• There was a couple–or just two like souls who found each other in an instance of pure serendipity–who boogied toward the back entrance. He was dressed in a low-cut, V-neck, red velour with white racing stripes. His humongous, curly hair was accented by a white headband, and his face wore one of the sweeter ironic moustaches I’ve seen during the trip. She was wearing skin-tight striped hot pants that could barely contain her luscious booty. Their choreography consisted of moves that my have been stolen from the Torrance Community Dance Group, and they were pretty darn fabulous.
• And I think I saw Elijah Wood.

There were bands, too. The Heavy played some songs, and they were kind of whatever. MGMT gave me a headache, but not in an awesome High on Fire sort of way. Justice started off at a throbbing cacophony and just started cranking shit louder and louder until brains started frying. That’s when shit really started going off. Moby played a DJ set, but I missed it (I’m kind of bummed about it now since we’re totally bros now), and by the time I got back (around 3:45 AM), the venue (slowly clearing out) was pumped so thick full of smoke (and I was so pumped thick full of whiskey) that my eyes started tearing. Cutting through the haze was difficult, but there were a ton of people on stage, how many, and who was actually DJing, I couldn’t tell. It looked like a lot, and they were back lit, which made it kind of creepy.

Luckily, they were still serving whiskey, and back by the photo sesh area, a woman with sweet guns (in addition to other things) interviewed Spencer. Swag included: a wristband, guitar pick, free magazine and a couple other things I’m not allowed to mention because they may be incriminating. Good time had? Oh yeah.

“My balls bring people to a magical happy place.” Whether from just the pure joy of being in the proximity of my balls (as in the case of a few lucky ladies with low standards) or in the case of James Barone, out of pure shock (recoiling into his safe dreamworld of elfin maidens and harmonized guitar leads to preserve his last bits of sanity). Last night, passed out on our floor, a certain Synthesis contributer and current CMJ/Spin cog got the real goods when my family jewels dangled over his forehead. My first teabag experience, one that was preordained by various intermittent text messages of “Balls” over the last year. No skin-to-skin contact was made, but it’s the thought that counts. And for the record, I think it was a certainpublisher who put the idea into my head.

“Spencer! Put your balls on MK’s head.”

“aiight.”

So I think I brought the room to a new low…but with hilarious consequences.

This hotel room smells like balls and sadness, and despite having a well-put-together female room mate, there is only so much manstink a girl can absorb. But anyway, my balls are Sunday’s band of the day.

Also, I;m pretty much sure that I am now a Member of Soundtrack of Our Lives.

Jim Ward of Sparta and At The Drive-In fame showcased his new side project Sleepercar at the Belmont last night. My associate James Barone and I sauntered down just in time to grab a quick video interview with Jim (check out Synthesis‘ YouTube channel for the goods very soon) and to check out the show. Unfortunately for Sleepercar, the venue they were playing was cast in the shadows of both the Chase Tower and the Comerica Bank building, which we should have known would be a sure sign that no one who frequents this bar, SXSW patron or not, was going to pay attention to anything but Red Bull vodkas and looking slick. And I feel bad for them.

Sleepercar is a much more subdued side of Jim Ward’s potent songwriting. Speckled with bits of Americana, roots, folk and country, Ward augmented his usually edgy rock experiments with bits of harmonica, and beautiful melodies. Maybe it was just that nobody knew who they were, or that the guy with the nautical tattoos on his hands singing and playing guitar was a part of one of the most influential bands of all time, and is currently in another highly esteemed band. Or maybe free drinks in the financial district just brings out the lame in everyone.

The album drops on April 22nd. Learn about it.

Kudos to you, Sleepercar!

Just kidding. I got nothing.