Here's my Village Voice Motley Crue piece, covering the MSG show. I had twenty small, scrawled pages of notes about the show, mostly with things like "nikki - secret brain trust, boxy dude, how come he's so glam still?' and 'trapeze girls in flesh-colored body suits, more athletic than curvy, the Crue gets fitter, happier?" Also, I ran into a dude in a one-piece mechanics outfit buying shots of whisky in the lobby and he was going around making everyone touch his little swatch of Christo fabric. Highly weird.

So...SXSW. Day one/two.

Came in. We're staying at this frightening Days Inn direclty under the I-35 overpass. Caleb said, "if you think about it, it sort of sounds like the sea." The pool is opaque, we are next door to the 24-hour drunk indie rock diner. There are rock stars in our hotel and other people seemed to have been bumped to the airport, so I guess all is okay.

Did the badge thing, minor drama, and saw Tim Quirk talking about 'how to sell your music online.' He's a dear friend, and a hilarious speaker who uses the mic to school everyone about how punk bands should do things in the 21st century.

We started off the night seeing British-hype bandSelfish Cunt, who did this mix of gutter-punk improv and Wayne County provocation while the lead singer gesticulated in a boyish clown suit a la scrubby David Bowie. Best part = they had a video man who moved in time to the music, capturing the audience, if he was taping at all, is spastic bursts while he skipped around Club DeVille.

Twenty minutes in to Les Georges Leningrad, who had Weimar Rep. style dear antler cut outs on stage and some Providence-style masking, I knew I had to get out, before their awesome but totally repetititve no-wave dance rock started sucking me dry. Friend Tim had spotted Dr. Dog earlier in the day, and liked them, so we went over and watched their corny indie pop with glee. The one guitarist was wearing those funny 80s sunglasses with the neon sides and looked like Dave Pirner, but it was still good. All night Tim kept telling people 'ya, Dr. Dog, they have this song that goes ...do do do. do do do, do waaaa.' That is what SXSW seems to be about to me. I'm sure 20 more Dr. Dog fans were made by Tim's efforts.

I ran into my friend Paul who does Hockey Night who told me the excellent news that they signed to Lookout! Hockey Night sounds like a cross between Modest Mouse and Thin Lizzy, in all the best ways. Paul is going to rule the indie pop/rock crossover world like no one has.

Saw Caleb's old pals The Motey Lemon who should, in Sandy Pearlman's words, 'name that last song 'pygmie slaying music' because it is just total destruction, like the UN is going to come in and finish the job. mass graves,' which is just about the best endorsement possible. Tim said they had the best bass sound he'd ever heard. I liked the dude in the sweater vest.

I ran out of steam after that. It's 10:47am, I missed Robert Plant's lecture. What the hell is he doing up so early anyway...