Editor's Note: For five days, Senior Editor Matt Melucci and Senior Writer Gil Kaufman are soaking in the sites and sounds of the 12th annual South By Southwest music conference in Austin, Texas, held from March 18-22. This year's event has brought some 6,000 visitors from around the world to see more than 800 bands of every musical persuasion perform at clubs throughout Austin. In addition to the music, there are panel discussions featuring artists and industry professionals at the Convention Center and all sorts of strange happenings in and around the downtown. The following are excerpts from their running diaries:

Thursday, March 19

Noon -- It's not as hot as when we arrived Wednesday afternoon. But for us, the day has just begun and from what I hear, night is when the ultraviolets really kick in. The place is filling up now. Bodies move in and out of the Convention Center. Some are still registering and picking up their goodie bags of worthless paraphernalia. Others, their plastic badges draped around their necks, sip coffee and mark their schedule booklets, preparing for the first full day of activities. They stream into an out of the exhibitor's ballroom. Sonic Youth is in town. Gil spotted Thurston Moore, the band's guitarist, last night at Emo's and chatted it up for a while as the two had absorbed the blows from Royal Trux's rock attack. I, on the other hand, took in Apples in Stereo over at Liberty Lunch and sneaked to the foot of the stage for lead Apple Robert Schneider's concert-ending axe attack, as he smashed a little, red, one- stringed guitar into pieces. It was quite a site, this baby-faced rocker launching his guitar at the ground and then hopping on it relentlessly until it splintered into many sharp fragments, and all this to the sizeable crowd's amusement. Realize, this is no Pete Townshend I'm talking about. Rather, he is somewhat the anti-rock star, in his Brian Wilson frames and Charlie Brown-like T-shirt. And they love him for it. -- Melucci

1:45 p.m. -- OK, so now I know why the turnover at the exhibitor's ballroom was so high. Did you say, "Boring?" Still, I'm lucky enough to get a seat for the panel discussion "If I Knew Then What I Know Now," probably the most solid lineup of the five days, nonmusical that is. Psychedelic pop troubadour Robyn Hitchcock, political rocker Billy Bragg and Atlanta folkie Amy Ray of Indigo Girls join an eclectic group on the panel. I'm furiously scribbling notes on some of the humorous and insightful things they say about their careers and how they could have done it better. When asked what got him into playing to begin with, Bragg says, "There was this woman who was a great inspiration to me. If not for her, I wouldn't be here. Her name is [former British Prime Minister] Margaret Thatcher." After everyone has a good chuckle, there seems to be some debate as to whether becoming an artist is a matter of ambition or happenstance. Hitchcock, while not necessarily denying that persistence has something to do with it, argues for the latter. His point: "Imagine if [John] Lennon and [Paul] McCartney had been born 20 years apart." -- Melucci

2:05 When asked about the "sleaze factor" in rock during the "If I Knew Then What I Know Now" panel discussion, Hitchcock replied: "I was ripped off early, then fucked over, then I pretty much alienated some people, pissed some people off, then I was on MTV and it was alright." -- Kaufman

5 p.m. --Soul Asylum singer Dave Pirner and his band are doing a sound check at Stubb's, as curious spectators such as myself -- people who listened to them before they fell into a career tailspin -- look on from behind the stage atop a highway overpass. Pirner, his cigarette-stained voice still intact, and guitarist Dan Murphy, looking a little heavier these days, seem tired and bored. I am growing restless. I have an interview with Olivia Tremor Control in an hour across town. -- Melucci

7:30 p.m. -- Luckily for me, this year's defining moment came relatively early. It didn't have anything to do with music, though. It was Kim Gordon's shoes. The Sonic Youth guitarist/bassist was confidently planted on top of these five-inch we're-not-in-Kansas-anymore red spangly platform shoes that seemed perfectly at odds with the dirty slush pile of guitar squall that she and co-guitarists Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo were pumping out effortlessly on La Zona Rosa's stage. I was as mesmerized by the shoes as I was by the hypnotic tunes from their new album. They were like two red disco balls thrusting up and back in time with Moore's almost imperceptible, indie-rock, James Brown musical cues. I sort-of got over the shoes, though, during "Heather Angel," when she kept screaming "Good-Bye" and "Here We Go!" over and over. -- Kaufman

10:10 p.m. -- Joe Pernice, ex-leader of the slow-core country outfit the Scud Mountain Boys, looks sad. I feel bad for the guy. Sitting up there with his bassist and guitarist, Pernice still looks like the loneliest guy in the crowded room of the Coppertank bar/brewery. He squeezes out the lyrics to the title track of the upcoming Pernice Bros. debut, "Overcome by Happiness," a beautifully melancholy ballad with touches of Beach Boys sunshine withering on the vine of his depression. By the time he winds out of "Ferris Wheel," alone on his acoustic guitar and his high, sweet voice, I almost can't bear to watch anymore. Then he smiles and says, "Thanks." I always tell myself I'll go see bands I've never heard of here, or wander from bar-to-bar learning new things, but it's always a lie. You see the same faces at most of the same shows. Problem is, it starts to make you wonder if that means you're doing it all right or all wrong. I feel pretty good so far. -- Kaufman

12 a.m. -- It's not easy to get your sound down without a sound check, and so Olivia Tremor Control spend the first three songs searching for their harmony. When they finally hit it, the sound is explosive, psychedelic, hypnotizing, energizing, trippy fantastic, all those things. The Electric Lounge is packed. I'm standing on someone's heels, trying to keep from bouncing and injuring someone nearby. The group at the front of the stage is not as contained. Lead singers/guitarists Bill Doss and Will Hart are trading tunes, including Doss' new one, "A Peculiar Noise Called (Train Director)." There's a horn section blowing Beatlesque melodies into the mic, and at some point in the show, Apples In Stereo make an appearance for a song off Olivia's last album, Dusk at Cubist Castle. I'm amazed by how many people you can fit on one small stage and how they can all come together to make one great sound. I'm trying to think of how to describe this night to friends at home and that's when I see the neon sign hanging over the stage. It reads "Electric." -- Melucci

1:38 a.m -- Junkie XL rapper Rude Boy just hocked a loogie on the glass of Maggie Mae's. It was aimed at Melucci and me. Except we're on the other side of the glass, because the Amsterdam rap-rock-techno act's packed SXSW debut is over-sold and the fire marshal is "biting our ass," says the door guy. Rude Boy, a stocky rapper/dancer who does double duty with his other band, Urban Dance Squad, smiles and winks after the spit wad flies, likely laughing about how earlier in the day he said he was excited for me to come see his band play. Mastermind Tom Holkenborg jumps up on his mini-Moog keyboard and flies into the air during the guitars-and-beats anthem "Metrolife," bouncing up and down in unison with Rude Boy, the band's over-excited DJ and their grungy-looking guitarist. The glass between us is rattling from the intense drum loops, and Holkenberg, a blur of red curls and soccer gear, can hardly contain himself behind his bank of keyboards. From Royal Trux to Sonic Youth to Junkie XL, noise to noise toother noise. I'm definitely doing it right. -- Kaufman