One thing I love about metalheads is their undying love for the music and its culture. They wear old band T-shirts from twenty years ago like a talisman against the world, they tattoo band logos on themselves to show devotion, rock patch-covered battle vests, and will stand in the middle of a rainstorm without considering moving because the band is about to go on. That’s serious commitment.
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And at the altar of groove, with her candles burning bright, is Frankie G, Austin’s Grand Madame of the Night. She’s a little bit Elysium — our beloved goth institution — but also lurid, international, mysterious, and a girl’s girl who wants to upend the system. Her parties go viral because she curates them for energy, for women to feel like goddesses and the algorithm is noticing. Monday’s upcoming Fairy Fest at Pease Park is a good example. The 420 themed party has this description on their ticketing page:
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One of the greatest joys of live music is when you can tell the band is having a blast. There’s an explosive connection when the music and the people collide. And for Touché Amoré, they came out swinging at the Mohawk, celebrating their masterpiece Stage Four turning ten.
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This SXSW was the year of the Lime scooter for me. I also took a driverless Waymo and saw a robot bartender at Faregrounds on Congress Avenue. Kicking off SXSW this year, I was not optimistic about what the festival had become in its ever-quaking need to feed the techno-masses. I did not enjoy being waved at by a clanker. Nor did I love taking a driverless car. Seeing so many robots delivering food, taking people to and from, it was not for me. Big no.
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I think when a person passes, how those in their wake tell their stories is an important, but telling way to show how much that person impacted their lives. Recently, Adam Morehead, one of the owners of The Cavalier, moved onto the next dimension and that’s one that stings. The Cavalier has served as the unofficial headquarters of The Cosmic Clash and anyone who’s snapped a photo, written a word, or had a quick meeting likely did so sitting out on the Webberville patio.
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Theater is my hell. Musical theater? I would rather swim through raw sewage, hitting sawed-off corpse dicks to the face. Honorable mentions include karaoke and improv. Back to the theater… it’s not fun for me. I enjoy reading plays by the greats; August Wilson, Tennessee Williams, and Arthur Miller. But when it comes to sitting in an audience, it just ain’t for me. There was the time I was taken to see Monty Python’s “Spam-a-Lot,” and while I wanted to see it, once I saw it, I hated it.
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Every time Dave Mustaine has something to say about Metallica, it’s like Al Bundy talking about his big game for Polk High. Not because he brings it up once in a while, but because he never stops. How does someone who hasn’t been in a band for forty years keep talking about a band he hasn’t been in for forty years?
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Just for clarification, as I write this, my girlfriend, who is a massive Deadhead, is appalled.
With the announcement of the passing of Bob Weir on January 10, the future of The Grateful Dead Empire is now in question. Whereas most bands stop when one of the OG’s pass on, the Dead are a different animal. It’s part of their credo to celebrate the music, to cherish the culture created not only by the band and the fans but also with people in general. The Dead became an integral part of our musical culture a long time ago. There’s nothing like it, an ongoing celebration in different forms that’s been going since Jerry Garcia passed back in 1995.
Because it’s the beginning of the year, I wanted to try something new. I’m going to make some predictions about things I think will happen over the next twelve months. I’m not a swami. This is just my best shot as someone who’s stood next to enough sweaty, drunk guys with bad opinions at countless shows for over thirty years. I can’t do worse than them. Jesus. I feel old just typing that
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It was a rough year for the service industry and the Austin music scene. We lost plenty of global legends, but also some of the folks who make this city special — the ones who make Austin… Austin. On the bigger stage, we lost Joe Ely and Garth Hudson, Roberta Flack, Sly Stone, and the eternally cool Ozzy Osbourne. We also lost Kiss member, Ace Frehley and Brian Wilson. The Mavericks singer Raul Malo passed on to the next plane, which hit hard.
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As an official Old Head, it’s an experiment in time for me: I got into punk in the early ’90s, and now that it’s 2025, I’m somehow in my fourth decade of this thing. The people we looked up to — and the kids I was crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with at basement shows — are now comparing cholesterol scores and scheduling their first colonoscopy. So when The Bouncing Souls and H2O rolled into town on Sunday, I got off my Rascal scooter and made my way down to enjoy the cool sounds of bands who’ve been around for thirty years, joining the rest of the AARPunks at Empire Control Room.
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