Looking for some international flavour, I checked out the Sounds of Spain showcase happening just across from the Convention Center. The first band was called We Are the Standard, whose lead singer looked a bit like a Spanish Rivers Cuomo.
Their sound, a bit of Hot Hot Heat jerky new wave mixed with an industrial edge, was unfortunately ignored by the crowd in favour of the free sangria and paella table.
Over at Beauty Bar, a retrofitted hair salon remade to look like a bar John Waters cooked up, San Francisco kraut rockers 60-Watt Kid were tweaking knobs and stomping pedals to a small but interested-looking crowd.
There’s something inherently problematic about playing psychedelic German noise rock under the blistering sun. If we’re supposed to zone out on experimental sounds you need a little ambience, something Beauty Bar in the light of day is scarce of.
Not to make sweeping generalizations or anything, but Motorhead fans act like total idiots. While watching the ancient metal lords at Stubbs a guy next to us threw a tallcan of Lone Star in the face of another guy, covering him with suds. Here’s come the brew ha-ha we’re thinking, but no. The victim raises his devil horns and they embrace like brothers. Huh? Even Lemmy must be tired of being around these dolts.