don't cry i'll bring this home to you

los abandoned have this smoking hot lead singer. look at her, playing her cute little mexican mandolin. she's like a spanish erin fein. delicious.

anyway. so i'm my on way from seeing los abandoned and tapes n tapes at the smokehouse bar and grill, carrying one of the bottles of juice sxsw has stocked in coolers at venues all over downtown austin. i'm on my way to see clap your hands say yeah at the club deville, crossing red river, when the driver of this suv yells out at me to come over. i'm in the middle of the crosswalk but traffic isn't moving so i oblige. he holds up a five dollar bill, says he'll give it to me for my bottle. i look at the juice speculatively, then back at him, and say, "but man, i've already drank out of it!" he points to his buddy in the back seat and says the guy has to piss so badly he's willing to give me five dollars for my bottle. hell, i shrug, take it. five bucks! there's definitely something crazy in the air today...

but the deville place is packed, its line stretching out to the nearest street corner. there's no way, badge or no badge, i'm getting into this show. the place is small, and it looks like there's just as many people in line as there are inside. but the stage is actually outside, under a big awning, and as i stretch to look at exactly how long the line is, i see some people above the venue, walking down this cliff (a small cliff, but yes, definitely a cliff) and sitting down to watch the show from up there. i decide these people are brilliant and take off around the street corner and up the sloping sidewalk and approach a smaller wall of this... cliff (yes, a goddamn cliff)! i grab hold and step up, and what do you know, i'm standing on top of this cliff, overlooking the club deville and the stage. these are the new coolest people i've met this week.



but our glory was short-lived, when one of the club's staff walked out and yelled at us to get off the cliff, that it was private property and we had to leave. we did, reluctantly, all of us cursing the guy for being such an asshole. he's got a job to do, i understand, but he really was being a dick. oh well. bygones, you know?

but anyway, we all just moved over to the side of the cliff, outside the markers keeping us out in the first place, and now we're in some private driveway watching the show from here. the sound isn't that great, but it's no worse than it would be if we were still standing out in line. the vantage point makes me feel just like spider jerusalem, above the crowd at the transient riots, no obstacle in his way of delivering the truth to the people of the city. rock on, champaign! rock on, taylorville! rock on, saara and elizabeth in boston! heed no warning, and rock on!!

aaahh... i've also found no end to amusing myself. i'm so winning this game.

so climb on up here and listen to clap your hands with me!