Little-Known Artists Get SXSW’s Spotlight

Though industry insiders spent each day of the 16th annual South by Southwest Music Conference “crying doom and gloom,” as keynote speaker Robbie Robertson had predicted would happen, the thousand or so bands that performed Wednesday through Sunday told a different, happier story.

Not since the early ‘90s, when SXSW was still largely an indies-only convention, did so much attention get paid to bands about which people know so little.

The event’s nighttime showcases of rock, hip-hop, blues, Latin and country came off as cures, or at least treatments, for the daily diagnoses of what’s ailing the slumping record industry. Whatever is wrong, SXSW--which originated as a showcase for new bands and evolved into a schmoozathon that was used even by veteran acts to hype new product--proved that it’s not due to any lack of young, meaningful talent.

New names such as Norah Jones, Clinic, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Starsailor and Tift Merritt grabbed a big chunk of the buzz, which was no small feat considering that queen attention-grabber Courtney Love also came to town.

“The music industry is utterly failing,” the singer said during a panel discussion in which she dished dirt on top record-label executives and defended her multimillion-dollar lawsuit against Universal Music Group.

Like keynote speaker Robertson, she did not perform in Austin, but did go out to the clubs. Robertson was among the many who took in the conference’s undeniable It Girl, jazz-pop balladeer Jones. A dark-haired beauty raised in the Dallas area, the singer-pianist was stuck in an undersized venue above an Indian restaurant for her sanctioned showcase. Demand was such that she played five other sets throughout the conference at places including coffeehouses and record shops, somehow creating a laid-back, comfortable vibe at each of them with songs from her Blue Note debut, “Come Away With Me.”

Liverpool’s Clinic (which plays the Troubadour in West Hollywood on Tuesday) performed in surgical masks and scrubs, which was only a distraction to their retro art-rock sound.

Brooklyn’s Yeah Yeah Yeahs were led by an outlandishly dressed Karen O. Sporting and featured a lineup of guitar and drums but no bass--only one reason their stomping, blues-punk sound earned comparisons to current indie darlings the White Stripes.

Along with many “the next Strokes” buzzes (New York’s the Walkmen seemed to come closest), there was also a sea of “next Radiohead” entries. Starsailor (which comes to the El Rey Theatre in L.A. on Tuesday) earned the nod mostly because they’re British, but their packed showcase at the Austin Music Hall showed more of a sweet, dreamy take on Anglo pop.

Equally radio-friendly but also a stellar live act was Merritt, whose debut on the “O Brother”-blessed Lost Highway label is due out in June. The North Carolina singer-guitarist came off as a Sheryl Crow for the Americana music crowd.

The conference was almost devoid of big-name performers, a sharp contrast to past years when acts such as Johnny Cash, Tom Waits, Patti Smith and the Black Crowes used SXSW to promote new albums.

The most familiar acts--Jonny Lang, Neil Finn, Marcy Playground, Luna, They Might Be Giants--all seemed to be ones that got lost in the major record-label downsizing of recent years. Their prime-time sets were pretty much ignored, like used cars parked at the front of a dealer’s lot.

One mid-’90s holdover that did generate a buzz was L.A.’s Eels. Led by bearded, shrouded frontman E, the sonically languid folk-pop act opened its set with a truly freakish version of Missy Elliott’s “Get Ur Freak On” that stole the show, and perhaps the whole conference.

About 6,000 registered participants attended this year, down 15% from 2001. That’s the first decrease ever, and the business side of SXSW maintained a glum atmosphere.

Panelists debated the reasons why record contracts and radio airplay are all so terrible, the only general agreement being that indeed they are terrible. Even Love joked about the serious tone among the business types at the conference.

“And I had always heard that SXSW was where you guys all came to cheat on your husbands and wives,” she quipped.

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Chris Riemenschneider is a music critic at the Star Tribune in Minneapolis.