It's March madness for the music industry, too. |

For the thirteenth straight year, hundreds of brazenly optimistic upstart bands, cell-phone wielding industry types and expectant music fans from across the country have rolled into the gleaming little metropolis of Austin, Texas, like a leather 'n' Levi's-covered tumbleweed. The increasingly high-profile hoedown known as South By Southwest may be miles aboveground by now (Entertainment Weekly and VH-1 are sponsoring a party here on Saturday), but there's still plenty of grassroots excitement to go around. And who can knock any opportunity to see a warhorse like Jeff Beck flex his muscles on the late Stevie Ray Vaughan's stomping ground -- even if the original Beckster didn't have to risk his life criss-crossing the country in an oil-burning '76 Dodge van to get here.

Here's the first in three reports from the southwestern front, covering day one, Wednesday, March 17:

Kelly Willis may be racking up national kudos for her latest album, the aptly titled What I Deserve, but nobody loves the brassy-voiced roots-pop artist as much as the folks here in her adopted hometown. Willis only played two songs at the Seventeenth Annual Austin Music Awards, but the mostly local crowd packing the cavernous Austin Music Hall gave her a reception worthy of a queen. Bad sound and audience noise squashed legendary hipster Kinky Friedman's acoustic set, but Willis' husband Bruce Robison and his brother Charlie both closed the show with a rousing hoot and holler. Also bringing down the house were Best Roots-Rock winners Reckless Kelly, who sat down and rocked like an unplugged, honky-tonk Led Zeppelin before being joined by Texan legend Joe Ely for a mighty fine run through Dylan's "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere." Notable AMA winners this year were platinum-selling popsters Fastball, who shared Band of the Year honors with Storyville, Musician of the Year David Garza, Best New Band/Artist Terri Hendrix and Best Alternative Band Spoon . . .

Following his brief appearance with Reckless Kelly at the Music Awards, Ely made a mad dash down the block to join axeman Jimmie Vaughan at Antone's for a private party celebrating the Austin premiere of Texan Matthew McConaughey's new flick Edtv. Celebs in town for the party and premiere included McConaughey, Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Hurley, Lauren Holly, Anne Heche and, by extension, Ellen DeGeneres . . .

It's been nine years since former Yardbird Jeff Beck last toured as a solo artist in the States, and his show Wednesday night at La Zona Rosa was clearly one of SXSW's most anticipated opening salvos. The diminutive guitar god and his band (MIDI guitarist Jennifer Batten, bassist Randy Hope-Taylor and drummer Steve Alexander) took the stage to wild shouts of approval ("You're unbelievable!") from a packed house that'd just been treated to an opening set of trance-y electronica by DJ K-Hole. Would the segue work? You bet. Beck's new effort, Who Else!, is a club-worthy affair (he's even gone on record saying it's inspired by -- cue sounds of purists gulping -- Prodigy). The opener, new track "What Mama Said," featured a pre-programmed backing track and chunky fast riffing from Beck's trademark Stratocaster hurled forth from three Marshall cabinets. Not quite mathematically precise, but pretty convincing, torso-shuddering stuff nonetheless. "Brush With the Blues," another new song, found the guitarist coaxing out more trad sounds -- shimmering, jazz-coated blues and squealing high-altitude bends. In his black muscle shirt and black jeans, hair over his ears, Beck was a spidery vision from another time even as he channeled his version of the future. The crowd ate it up: the new tunes, the old favorites ("Freeway Jam," Stevie Wonder's "Cause We've Ended As Friends"), the scorching cover of the Beatles' "A Day in the Life," even the requisite drum solo. After ninety minutes, the legend's endurance -- both on stage and in pop history at large -- was unquestionable. He even outlasted a good number of his ardent fans. But then, Beck's got a lot to say after all these years . . .
And while much of SXSW's opening night provided some good libations and vibrations, plenty was just plain weird. While all the hipsters were blissing out to the wicked noodlings of guitar legend Jeff Beck, those off the beaten path scratched their brows to Klezmer-punk outfit Rubinchik's Orkestyr, which one could bet was the only tuba-toting act this year. One-hit-wonder the Toadies managed to pack the outdoor sandpit at Stubb's, San Antonio alt-rockers Bedwetter kept the beat as rainfall forced beer-swilling listeners to race to the indoor bar, and the three-chord angst-pop of Doe Nuts had the audience at the SoHo Lounge pouring out onto Sixth Street. Truly, the best show of the night was right there -- the street theater of Austin on the kick-off to a week's worth of music, BBQs and boos issued enough drama, in the form of bad pick-up lines, hideous St. Paddy's Day Styrofoam hats and general tomfoolery, to make leaving the hotel worthwhile -- even if the only real act one caught was the rage-fueled gimmick-band the Fuck Emos . . .
On tap for tomorrow's Day Two report: Built to Spill, Old '97s, and honky tonk hero Billy Joe Shaver. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

JOE ROSENTHAL, HEIDI SHERMAN and RICHARD SKANSE
(March 18, 1999)