Reports from Saturday, March 18

Oh, Saturday. Pouring rain and fatigue are the themes of the morning, but they merely serve as prelude to the full-blown exhaustion that will take hold before the night is over. Actually, the night is well over and the morning has broken before I reach my bed at 6:30 a.m. I'm trying to retrace my steps. I think it goes something like this:

A day's worth of interviews for MSN Music: First up is Britain's cheeky Guillemots, who are a splash of cold water on my weary face. They're funny, charming and cute together, falling all over each other on the interview couch and generally reminding me of how fun it is to be in a band (and their album is fantastically inventive). Up next are Sabina and Didi from Brazilian Girls, two genial Europeans to offset the swarm of American humanity Texas has been hosting for the past few days. The legendary Ramblin' Jack Elliott follows, granting me an hour of his time (they don't call him Ramblin' Jack for nothing, friends) and favoring us with three private performances, including my request, "San Francisco Bay Blues," which, he informs me, will cost "15 cents extree." Tim Burgess from the Charlatans UK, one of my favorite British bands of the '90s, is next, followed by the capper, Lady Sovereign, who provides a functional definition of the word spitfire. She's obviously a star.

With work completed, I rush to the unlikely environs of McCormick and Schmick's, the seafood chain restaurant, where Filter magazine is hosting a showcase of stripped-down performances by British songwriters. The unquestionable star of this show is Jim Noir, whom I'd been hearing about all weekend. Now I understand why. The math on Noir is like this: He looks like Gary Oldman, and he sounds like the Byrds, the Flying Burrito Brothers, the Band and the Beatles, all wrapped into one. With his three-piece band, Noir stacks layers of complicated harmony around some of the craftiest pop songs imaginable. I have no doubt he's going to be massively successful.

-- Sean Nelson, MSN Music Editor

SXSW is a lot like running a marathon -- or so I imagine. You need to have a game plan before heading into the festival so as not to burn out too soon. I woke up Saturday morning feeling that I might have misjudged my stamina. My feet will need replacing, as will my ears. I think I've grown a nice smoke ring under my skin from all the barbecue I've eaten so far. But there's still more food to eat and more music to hear, so I rally and head into a rainy Saturday.

Lunch at nearby local treasure, El Sol y La Luna, found Alejandro Escovedo coming in for the weekend special, pozole. Escovedo, perhaps Austin's favorite hometown singer-songwriter, makes his annual appearance Sunday night at the Continental Club. This legendary show has repeatedly eluded many, as us out-of-towners make their way back home on Sunday. I like to think of it as a special thank you to Austin for putting up with us for the week.

The rain tapers off enough to make it over to Barsuk Records' party at Pok-E-Joe's BBQ. Luckily, the earlier rain has kept many weary travelers in their hotel rooms and not here for the Long Winters' fun set of giddy indie pop. Frontman John Roderick joked earlier in the day that he doesn't have to do a lick of work for the Long Winters. You'd almost believe him. The band crafts perfect pop songs that seem so unbelievably effortless. Look out for their new full length disc, which comes out in July.

Roderick also made note of the number of beards in the audience today. The beard is the man statement of the week. For our younger rockers, it adds five years of credibility to their songs, whereas for our, shall we say, more veteran songwriters, it hides enough wrinkles to make them still appear credible. I almost feel like I'm at a Springsteen concert, circa 1978.

It's now Saturday night, and I'm missing a few staples of my SXSW experience. With no plan for the night, I head downtown and can now cross the first staple off the list: Mary Lou Lord is busking '60s songs in the doorway of a building on 6th Street -- seeing her is a SXSW treat year in and year out.

Not long after, I wind up at Emo's, which is less a club than a compound of clubs -- the small room, the big outdoor stage, the alley annex, Emo's IV across the street and Emo's Jr. It positively has the worst toilets on the planet. Here, I'm met by the Datsuns and their Ted Nugent-minus-the-loin-cloth rock and roll. This is definitely not what my body was telling me to do tonight, but I can't help jumping around just a little bit. Beatle Bob jumps up during the next set by the Riverboat Gamblers. Though I'm not into the antics of their lead singer, I find myself smiling while watching him dance on stage to the Gamblers' madness. Bob loves his rock and roll.

I realize during Seattle's Esther Dang's set that it even hurts to sit, so I decide head back to the hotel. I hit Hoek's Pizza, with its death metal blasting onto the street, for a slice before making the final long walk back, saying goodbye to another incredible four days of music.

-- Scott Balikian, MSN Entertainment

It's a quarter till 9 on Saturday night. With six shows I really want to see, a couple of great afterparty invites and a flight shortly after noon the next day, I thought it best to take an early swing at this daily round-up to ensure I have enough time to sneak in everything that's been on my mind. The fact of the matter is this Austin trip has been a whirlwind: 19- to 21-hour days, little food and a million things to wrangle daily. I've been running at full throttle since stepping off the plane Thursday afternoon.

This is my first year at SXSW, my first trip to Austin and my first time in Texas, the Lone Star State. Though, I must admit, with so many people converging on Austin during this festival, my perspective of the city is skewed. That said, however, every person I have met who is actually from Austin is genuinely sweet.

I enjoyed my first non-T.G.I. Friday's meal last night, and it was superb. Guero's on South Congress can grill up a vicious veggie alambre, and it was just what I needed to fuel my night.

I began Saturday's festivities by catching Columbus, Ohio's Times New Viking on the Velvet Spade patio. This young three-piece was fierce and filled with conviction -- it didn't matter that their arrangements teetered on the brink of disaster a few times throughout their set. Frankly, it was endearing. Blazing guitar, piercing electric organ and trashcan drums were held together with female and male vox singing harmoniously about socialist manifestos. I dug it. I bought a CD from the merch table but passed on their handmade cassettes, not out of disinterest but out of necessity -- it would be tough enough carting a CD around for the next 5 hours.

Next I was off to La Zona Rosa across town for the official Lady Sovereign party. After seeing her "not-so-secret" show Friday night and interviewing her Saturday, I was anxious to catch her in a bigger venue. When I interviewed her Saturday evening, she seemed exhausted. Granted, she had just eaten her first full meal in a day, and we all know that can make you a little lethargic. Hunger and exhaustion are common themes at SXSW. Exhaustion or no exhaustion, she rocked it. After resolving some monitor issues during the first song, she was absolutely ablaze. All that said, however, the smaller venue the night before was a better show. She seemed more comfortable in a more intimate setting, though her between-tune banter Saturday night was unmatched.

The special treat was that her DJ -- with whom I spoke the night before, but for the life of me couldn't hear what he said his name was (it's rude to ask more than twice, even if the sound system is blaring!) -- laid down a vicious set of grime and dubstep before Sov took the stage.

After Sov ended, I headed out to hear Wolfmother and the Stills play at the Vice Records' party. It was way across town, and as I walked in search of a cab, I stumbled upon a surprise performance by San Francisco's Kid Beyond. He's a human beat box who samples himself live on stage to created looped rhythms over which he rhymes. The spectacle was really cool live. I don't want to hear it on a record, though.

After a few tunes, my search for an available cab continued. Without an empty cab in sight, I contemplated hoofing it. I quickly asked a local how far it was. The answer was, "That's not the friendliest part of town." Though I was lukewarm on hearing Wolfmother, that answer solidified the deal! I jumped in a cab and headed to "Deep East" Austin in search of Wolfmother.

The Stills and Wolfmother were all right. It was great to see a lot of friends with whom I hadn't had a chance to connect earlier in the trip. It seemed nearly everyone had secured an invite to the Vice party, so the warehouse was rammed with enthusiastic music lovers. Though the Vice party was just all right, the vibe and the people were great.

That's the extent of the evening.

-- Kyle Hopkins, MSN Music