See photo gallery at www.startribune.com/sxsw 

Fridays are the worst day at SXSW stamina-wise. With Saturday, the final day, comes a second-wind, but the third day is when the wear-and-tear takes over and everything genuinely becomes a blur.

For the sake of sanity, I’m just gonna go ahead and regurgitate whatever I wrote down in my notebook verbatim and get some rest. It ain’t eloquent, but it’s a quick way of doing it.

MGMT (New Yorkers playing outside at Stubb’s): Alternated between Ziggy Stardust-like psychedelic rock and Syd Barret-trippy folk… one of the many bands I heard at SXSW doing psychedelic, freaky jams, after My Morning Jacket, Howlin’ Rain, Yeasayer, First Communion Afterparty and ??.

Liam Finn (son of Crowded House’s Tim Finn who uses loops to play guitar and drums at same time; played a packed back-alley club called the Ale House): Songs started as poppy, sing-songy, but then he’d sit down at the drums and build them up to big, rocking finishes. Cool how he does opposite of most loop-using songwriters, who usually start off with recorded drum beats and play over that. Songs stand up without the loop gimmick.

Cool Kids (Chicago hip-hop trio now seen in Rhapsody TV commercial, inside Emo’s): Love the lines “We’re the new black version of the Beastie Boys” and “I guess it comes full circle like a Cheerio.” Kind of a dark, warped, grime-meets-DJ Screw sound but playful too.

My Brightest Diamond (Quirky and always colorfully dressed New York songwriter Shara Warden, playing with a four-piece string section inside Central Presbyterian Church … SXSW uses every downtown venue it can): Looks and talks like Glenda the Good Witch. Kept calling crowd “dahlings.” Gorgeous voice, deep poetic songs and the string section was magical sounding.

DeVotchka (Colorado’s worldy, eclectic ensemble, performed at Antone’s with Austin’s Tosca Strings section): Strings made their mariachi-style songs soar. Beautifully orchestrated. Mariachi stuff is better than gypsy-rock stuff, like “Such a Lovely Thing.”

The Constantines (Toronto band on the verge after signing to Arts & Craft label, also at Antone’s): Singer sort of Stephen Malkmus-ish coy and clever, but less of a mutterer and more of a chanter/spaz. Band: stormy, moody, climactic, nontraditional two-guitar attack. *** [stars indicate my favorite of the night].

Here’s hoping for that second wind.

For complete SXSW coverage, go to www.startribune.com/sxsw.

At long last, the big buzz band of the fest showed itself… in daylight, no less, which might have not been the best place for them considering the bandmembers’ pasty-white skin. I’m talking of course about Vampire Weekend, the blogger-buoyed quartet of recent Columbia University grads, who were the main attraction at the annual Spin magazine party at Stubb’s six days after they played “Saturday Night Live.”

I admit I was already lukewarm on VW’s much-ballyhooed eponymous CD, but I thought the live set might win me over. Not so. In fact, it was pretty much a spot-on recreation of the album, as it opened with “Mansard Roof” and varied little musically. The band’s bouncy ska-meets-New Wave rhythms were good enough to get the crowd’s heads mildly bobbing, but the set never rose in energy beyond that, even when “A-Punk” was played near the end of 45 minutes (which I’m guessing is about all the band has anyway). Frontman Ezra Koening showed the band’s age when he made a comment that the Stubb’s stage looked like “something out of ‘Jurassic Park,’ “and then apologized for the “old-school reference.” Huh?!

Speaking of old-school, X headlined the Spin party, which was a pretty cool choice. I didn’t stick around, though, since the band will be at the Cabooze in Minneapolis next weekend.

Instead, I went to catch the Whigs, who performed earlier at the Spin party but then went straight into an indoor party for Paste and Stereogum three hours later. The Georgia trio looked undaunted by the back-to-back gigs and the heat inside the nondescript Sixth Street venue, tearing through “Right Hand on My Heart” and showing a little elegant, sunny, organ-fueled psychedelia in “I Never Want to Go Home.” If you ask me, these are the guys that should be the darling new band of the fest.

For complete SXSW coverage, go to www.startribune.com/sxsw.

Once the regular showcases wound down in the wee hours of Friday morning, the organizers of the Playboy/C3 party lifted the veil on their invite-only warehouse party. Of course, I didn’t expect there to be a makeshift pool grotto or Bunnies playing volleyball in bikinis at the much-ballyhooed event (OK, maybe I thought just maybe they’d have stuff like that), but I went to raves in the ’90s that had better production value and a sexier vibe. About the only scintillating activity here was people could get their photo taken with a Playmate, or at least some woman who fit the build.

I hung around a bit to hear Moby spin a DJ set — something he doesn’t do often enough these days, because it was quite a bombastic set — but decided I couldn’t stay up for the hot French electronic duo Justice. The only reasons to stay out past 3 a.m. listening to French electronica are either you’re tripping on something or you’re hoping to trip over someone to take home with you, and I’ve long since bowed out of both those games. Which reminds me: Honey, if you’re reading this, please remember I’m a serious journalist and I only attended for the news value.

Many more of Tony Nelson’s shots are up at our SXSW photo gallery (click here).

Here’s a quick blow-by-blow of all the other acts I caught on the second night of the fest (and amazingly, not a single act I saw did blow):

*Howlin’ Rain: Let me go ahead and call them my favorite new act of SXSW so far. But then, I have a soft spot for Derek & the Dominos, which is who this new quintet — led by Comets on Fire frontman Ethan Miller — most reminded me of, with a little bit of British soul-rocker Terry Reid. The group sounds tailor-made for the Bonnaroo festival, with a tinge of hip psychedelica, a little tasteful jam-band flavor and some loose Southern boogie.

*My Morning Jacket. The well-established Kentucky rockers started out a little tepid and awkward inside the mammoth Austin Music Hall, playing a couple of new songs that found frontman Jim James singing a weird falsetto. A MN music nut I ran into told me he “didn’t get” these guys and soon left, and I couldn’t blame him. That is, until about 45-minutes into the set. James (pictured below) led his group through two stellar new songs that are among the band’s most high-charged, chariot-race-like, epic pieces, with three guitars blazing. They were followed by the only old MMJ song that matches that level of intensity, “One Big Holiday.” I’ll go ahead and call that my most titillating moment of SXSW so far (that’s before heading to the Playboy party, of course).

*Carbon/Silicon. OK, so I guess I’m not the only big Clash fan at SXSW. The line led down the street for the SXSW debut of the new band led by former Clashman (and Big Audio Dynamiter) Mick Jones and Generation X guitarist Tony James. Fortunately, they were at a Sixth Street bar with giant windows that open up to the street right behind the stage, so I watched the band from the backside view as they bounced through “The News” and a few more tracks from its new album. It wasn’t the best place to hear the music, but the vantage point did allow me a candid view of Jones, who smiled broadly to his bandmates everytime he turned around. Here’s hoping he has as much fun when C/S plays to the Varsity Theatre on March 30.

*Trombone Shorty. Maybe the hottest new act out of New Orleans since Katrina, he performed outside the Irish bar Fodo. And I really mean he “performed,” doing a James Brown-ian showman thing throught his set, which melded the hard-blowing energy of NOLA brass bands with a sped-up update of the Meters’ funk. He also refreshingly avoided tradition, like when he spiked a cover of “St. James Infirmary” with lyrics about his Playstation and Nike shoes.

*Billy Bragg. The Irish folk-rock legend (fresh from the earilier Body of War all-star set) stuck mostly to older tunes at his 1 a.m. solo acoustic set, despite having a strong buzz generating on his upcoming album. The set favorites included “Little Time Bomb” and “Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key.” He also did this hilarious bit — based on his old street-busking days — where he asked the crowd if they wanted to hear a Dylan cover or a Carpenters tune. “I know in America only half of you vote,” he quipped. Then he went onto compare the yelps for the Carpenters to the votes George Bush got: “You’ve made a mockery of the democratic system.”

 For complete SXSW coverage go here.

Here’s my most quintessential South by Southwest moment so far in the fest:

I’m walking up Red River St. toward Stubb’s to check in on Mason Jennings’ set, and out of the corner of my not-so-attuned-anymore ear I hear the sound of a band of college-age Minnesota kids getting off like they’re San Francisco acid-freaks circa 1968. That’s right, I had unknowingly run into First Communion Afterparty, who were playing a party on the patio of Jaimie’s Mexican restaurant for a U.K. psychedelic collective called Dream Machine.

So if you’re keeping score at home, I traveled 1,200 miles to see a band from my S. Mpls. hood play for a British party at a Mexican joint. The band had another SXSW party to play sometime on Fri., but the best info that singer/guitarist Liam Watkins could muster up was, “We’re playing somewhere, sometime” (I could relate to the blur).

I caught three other Twin Cities acts on Thu night:

*Young metalcore newcomers Four Letter Lie, who were one of the local bands I admitted not knowing anything about going into SXSW. That’s clearly my bad. The quintet looked young enough to be in high school but sounded tight enough to have been rocking out together since they were in diapers. They were the opening band on the Victory Records showcase, their new Chicago-based label, which also helped birth Atreyu and Hawthorne Heights. Their growling thrash/punk-infused metal songs like “Cowboys & Indians” were refreshingly emo-less and just plain banging.

*Mason Jennings. He went on after the all-star Body of War showcase, and only about half the capacity crowd stuck around. That was still a thousand or so watchers, many of whom cheered when he played “Be Here Now” and “Butterfly.” That made me wonder if Jennings really even needs SXSW-style exposure before his new album comes out. 

*The Pines. They were part of the Red House Records showcase, held in a surprisingly posh corner bar of the historic Driskill Hotel off Sixth Street. It was probably the only venue in town clean enough for fans to sit on the carpet while the Iowa transplants and their tight rhythm section (JT Bates and James Buckley) delved into their infectious rambling-groove sound and well-deep lyrics. The crowd included three well-known Minneapolis rockers, all Hopefuls present and past: Darren Jackson, John Hermanson and Erik Appelwick, the latter of whom swore his high school band from South Dakota played the same hotel bar the same night in the late ’90s when Iggy Pop played a giant outdoor stage just 100 feet away.

For complete SXSW coverage and photos, go here.

Two years ago, Tapes ‘N Tapes made their big splash at SXSW, playing eight shows and earning about a thousand blogger raves. Last year, Cloud Cult also made a strong impression at such high-profile gigs as the Levi’s/Fader party.

Both these Minnesotan bands have returned to Austin to plug their follow-up albums, and lo and behold they practically played across the street from each other Thursday afternoon (especially odd since former Tapes bassist Shawn Neary now plays in Cloud Cult).

Any worries that the 2006 buzz over TNT has turned to backlash seemed to vanish here by the second day of the fest, when the band packed the Gilley’s-sized punk club Emo’s to headline a day party there. The crowd ate up the few oldies played, especially “Cowbell,” but new gems like “Conquest” and especially “Headshock” went over almost as well.

Cloud Cult’s outdoor set on the Current’s broadcast stage was short and definitely not sweet. The band played several stormy numbers off its new album, “Feel Good Ghosts,” including a mostly instrumental freak-out jam called “Tornado Lessons” that sounded wicked live. They did offer some sweet and impressively layered vocal harmonies in another, poppier new one called “No One Said It Would Be Easy.” It all sounded great down here… did anybody hear it up there?

I also liked host Mary Lucia’s quip about their eco-friendly practices, someting along the lines of: “Do you ever accidentally litter and freak out about it?”

Also Thursday afternoon: The long line outside the Motorhead gig at Stubb’s was more of a turnoff than Lemme’s facial wart, so I went across the street to Club DeVille for the New West Records party. Funny thing about that shindig: It used to be one of the hottest tickets in town, back when SXSW was smaller and alt-country was one of its mainstays. Not so anymore, but there was still a nice, friendly turnout, including New West v.p. Peter Jesperson — I forgot to ask him about the ‘Mats reissues he just put together. And then there was an always-sweet performance by Dallas twangers the Old 97s, who – unlike the fest that made them big – haven’t changed much in 10 years.

 Go here for complete SXSW coverage, including Tony Nelson’s photos.