Iann Robinson in Austin, TX
Photo: MTV News

Austin just smells different.

That was the first thing I noticed when I stepped out into the Texas night, bags in tow, to begin the three-day quest that is the South By Southwest Music Festival. My biggest fear for the week was that I would find out SXSW (the "hip" way to write South By Southwest) was an industry schmoozefest and my high idea of bearing witness to the future of music would turn out to be nothing more than a high idea.

Thursday was bright — a little too bright, and a little too hot — but as soon as I stepped out onto Sixth Street, Austin's main drag, things seemed to come to life. People swarmed the streets, even at an early hour, talking about music, bands they were going to see, wanted to see and maybe were pissed they couldn't see. (That was one drawback: There were over 1,000 bands playing SXSW, all of them concentrated in the three days of the festival.) (Click for photos from the event.)

As the day pressed on, I hooked up with the Riddlin' Kids, the Feds, Ed Harcourt, OK GO and the X-ecutioners. I saw everything from rock to soul to indie to hip-hop and it was all good, it was all honest music. I began to wonder if the search for the next big thing was the wrong way to go. Maybe the future of music was in having many different genres all leading the charge. Instead of everything being tagged this and that, it would all just be great music. Duke Ellington once said there's only two kinds of music: good and bad. Point taken.

Friday night lived up to everything that I'd hoped for. Imagine an anthill at the height of the ants' workday, then add loud music and the smell of great BBQ and there you have it. I walked down Sixth Street trying to take it all in. I'd spent the morning with the Mooney Suzuki, and now I was on my way to see the Brought Low, a great band from New York that drew a more rock-oriented crowd. After the Brought Low I headed over to another club to check out metal/hardcore bands Shadows Fall and Killswitch Engage. Talking to kids on the street, they confirmed my earlier suspicion: The next big thing wasn't in the vibe. People didn't care what you were doing as long as it was good. No more slick-produced megabucks templates — only honest music, no matter what genre it was.

I stumbled around Saturday in an exhausted state, talking to kids, seeing more bands, freaking out over the rebirth of true punk rock I saw with L.A.'s own Icarus Line. I found out that on Friday night their guitar player, Aaron, had smashed a glass case at the Hard Rock Café (Click to see the case get smashed), removing the Stevie Ray Vaughan guitar that was in it and trying to play it (see "Long Lines For Clinic, Lynch Mob For Icarus Line At SXSW"). That's punk, that's badass. As the day drew to a close I felt very satisfied, topping the evening off watching High on Fire and hanging out with some friends.

I wasn't wrong when I landed in Austin. The future of music was in these streets, just not in plain view. The next big thing, from what I saw, was not a genre but a quality. If you were making music that mattered, music that spoke to things people could relate to and blend into their own lives, then your genre didn't matter — people wanted to hear it. So the industry slips a little. Maybe it'll use this time to learn how to build a band and make a legend again. That hope eased me into a sound and blissful sleep on my way home.

For more sights and stories from concerts around the country, check out MTV News Tour Reports

• The Feds
• Ed Harcourt
• The X-Ecutioners
• The Icarus Line

Jerry Cantrell performs at SXSW 2002
Photo: MTV News

The 16th annual South by Southwest music conference drew to a close Sunday, and the only thing that lasts longer than the seemingly perpetual hangover that results from four debauched days of a music industry on spring break is the buzz emanating from the bands and key moments that defined this year's festival.

Of the more than 1,000 bands showcasing their chops before press, radio programmers, managers, lawyers, label execs and promoters in 48 venues strewn throughout Austin, Texas, a handful traditionally rise above the chaff to become the targets of hype hucksters and topics of critical discussion for weeks following the conference

Of the more than 1,000 bands showcasing their chops before press, radio programmers, managers, lawyers, label execs and promoters in 48 venues strewn throughout Austin, Texas, a handful traditionally rise above the chaff to become the targets of hype hucksters and topics of critical discussion for weeks following the conference (Read Iann Robinson's take on SXSW here, or check out photos from the event here).

Liverpool's Clinic, who kicked off their latest tour two days before their Friday SXSW showcase, were one of this year's must-see performances. The hype surrounding this synth-punk quartet was so intense that the line wrapped around the block and even Courtney Love, who was scheduled to speak at the conference the next day, was denied backstage access.

Newly signed Roadrunner Records artist Jerry Cantrell's gig attracted all those who would gleefully trade the twang that pervaded much of the conference for something a little heavier. Among those who came to support the Alice in Chains guitarist were Pantera's Vinnie Paul and Dimebag Darrell, who made the drive from their hometown Dallas and joined Cantrell onstage toward the end of his set.

The country-fried Drive-By Truckers turned more than a few heads of label A&R scouts with fired-up selections from Southern Rock Opera, the Athens, Georgia, band's ambitious double concept album about the history of Dixie-rock legends Lynyrd Skynyrd. It's safe to say that discussions with labels larger than their current indie are eminent.

The Shins, with a style equally linked to the Kinks and Beach Boys — that is, if Brian Wilson reinvented himself as the original emo survivor and Ray Davies never made it out of the garage — provided some decent audio buzz to accompany the alcoholic kind that surrounded their afternoon party as well as their 1 a.m. showcase. Following a similar though definitely rockier road, the neo-garage scene made it's presence felt this year, led by New Yorkers the Mooney Suzuki and Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.

An annual SXSW staple, the Columbia Records showcase displayed the label's hopefuls with a night that included pop-punkers the Ataris, the aggro-fueled Riddlin' Kids, Icelandic beat-conscious rap-rockers Quarashi, turntablists X-ecutioners and big-beat electronic conductors Lo Fidelity Allstars. Prior to their exhilarating exhibition, the Kids served as the house band for a karaoke tribute to the Ramones during the label's pre-showcase soiree.

Meanwhile, a separate bash sponsored by Capitol Records and MTV2 featured sets from the Feds, OK GO, Ed Harcourt and Starsailor.

More than just four days of concerts, SXSW is double-billed as an industry schmooze-fest and workshop promoting the exchange of ideas and advice. Besides the required entry-level how-to classes, most panel discussions reflected the industry's current state of affairs. Gone are the throngs of dot-com diatribes — both the "next big thing" and "why they fell" discussions — that pervaded years past, replaced by debates on copyright ownership, digital downloads and artist contract reform.

The hour-plus speech/rant/discussion by self-described expert on almost everything industry-related, Courtney Love (her pending lawsuit against Universal Music Group provides some actual validity) repeatedly strayed off-course and started fashionably late, of course. While reiterating claims about contract limitations and unfair business practices made in her suit, Love, complete with dangling cigarette, name-dropped (Bono, Gwen Stefani, Sheryl Crow) and trash-talked ("... and I saw you doing an 8-ball off the back of the Limp Bizkit record!").

But the real rock and roll mayhem was provided by Aaron North, guitarist for the Icarus Line. Near the end of the band's set at the Hard Rock Cafe, which followed a blistering performance by At the Drive-In offshoot Sparta, North broke a display case containing a guitar that once belonged to the late Stevie Ray Vaughan and attempted to plug in and play (Click to see the case get smashed). Considering that the name Stevie Ray Vaughan is spoken with the same reverence as God in Austin, the crowd didn't take too kindly to the blasphemous act, and North and singer Joe Cardamone were chased from the stage by security.

Read about all of the shows we've recently covered in Tour Reports.

• Clinic
• The Icarus Line
• Jerry Cantrell
• Drive-By Truckers
• Stevie Ray Vaughan