Jaime’s Spanish Village de Queso Alright, this is the last one, I

Jaime’s Spanish Village de Queso Alright, this is the last one, I promise. I know you’re all sick to death of hearing about this monstrous indie rock Mardi Gras/industry circle jerk by now. Ok!So, post Brooklyn Vegan party, we headed out in search of a quiet-ish place to administer some shots of alcohol (a word to the wise re: Austin survival during the long days and nights is limiting booze intake before 5pm) and stumbled in to the cool, dark and completely empty Velveeta Room (perhaps named for the region’s pervasive Velveeta-like “queso”). After some tequila and whiskey, we felt well armed against the madness of the streets, and hit the pavement in search of food.En route to Iron Works BBQ, we passed a less-crazed looking Sia (with no magic marker scrawled across her face) just around the corner from the Ice Cream Man’s minions (who hand out free ice cream at rock festivals all over the country- what kind of business model is that?? Not that I’m complaining.), who were distributing free popsicles (watermelon, cantelople, coconut, strawberry, pistaccio!) which were just enough, coupled with the shots to send us all into a sugar induced frenzy that didn’t involve waiting in the gigantic line that was snaking out from the BBQ spot. We headed down Red River, until we got to Jaime’s Spanish Village- and skirted past a few members of the Black Angels before snagging a table, chips and salsa and some unidentifiable queso-covered deliciousness. Vera Project mavens Kate Becker and Shannon Stewart were simultaneously enjoying some queso lumps along with their new Program Director, Joshua Powell. A quick trip over to the Wave post queso fest, I caught the delightfully hilarious antics of a character (who’s name sadly escapes me at this point) who thrashed around onstage while wearing a very classy piano keyboard tie as TV screens all over the bar played surfing videos, which served an odd contrast. Then over to the Habana Calle Patio for the Undertow showcase, well populated with Seattle folks (Sera Cahoone, Bazan) as well as Texas (Centro-matic’s Will Johnson) for-conflict alert- (my boyfriend) J. Tillman’s stark, but warm set of well-worn favorites like “Crooked Roof”, coupled with a few newer jams like “Steel on Steel” and a family time guest appearance by my brother Robin signing harmonies on “When I Light Your Darkened Door”. End scene. DAY 3Lord, this is getting long. Ok- kicked the day off at Mas Mamitas on Congress, a delicious, gigantic Mexican joint that seemed as though they kept getting more popular, and had to add on more square footage in a hodge podge kind of way- patrons have to walk through the bustling kitchen to get to the enclosed, brightly colored back patio that seems to have been tacked onto a few times. Out front, at a sidewalk table, LA pop music critic (and former Seattleite) Anne Powers was in the process of conducting an interview with the subject of the to-be-released documentary Body Of War, 25 year old Thomas Young, who was paralyzed by a bullet in Iraq after being there for less than a week. He found a friend in Eddie Veddder, who contributed two original songs to the film. I waited in line behind Jim James, who was washing his hands at the communal kitchen sink near the restrooms, which is nothing compared to 230 Publicity’s Eli Anderson who took a leak at a urinal next to Michael StipeThis is turning out to be more about food and artist sightings than actual music- but I supposed that’s reflective of how tough it is to actually get in to see live music during this thing. I promised this would be the last one, but there’s going to have to be one more installment after this. Stay tuned for the Sub Pop party (which will actually include some music reporting!), and Torchy’s tacos at the Hot Freaks bash and Feral Children’s bloody knuckles at the SXSeattle Party. . .