[Lake Charles, LA]: 2 guitars, accordion, drum, and a washboard (that is, a metal vest with ridges hanging from a guy’s neck). They were zydeco with rap and rock stylings. Intent on keeping the crowd hyped. And I guess it worked, because an old white guy near us was doing air-washboard.

[Atlanta, GA] Two or three boys – I was on the side and couldn’t quite see. The first song was basically variations of “bitch I am god.” The second song was about how they’re teenage Jesuses. Their sound wasn’t bad, but the lyrics were really annoying.

[Bronx] Three shorties (if ‘shorties’ means short women who rap, like I imagine it does) with hot pants, long hair, and tons of attitude. Two were from the Bronx and the more mild-mannered one from Houston seemed like she was filling in as a backup. They worked the mostly male crowd and had them whispering about the merits of the group before the music even started. It was stoned bootie rap – long deep bass – Tigra & Bunny voices. They would rap dirty mean lyrics, the song would end, and then they’d collapse into girly giggles. It was a put on – they were tough. Some of their stuff had a Latina tinge – they may have been Puerto Rican. In some songs, they’d repeated the same word hypnotically, reminded me of Southern rap. They were fantastic.

Two young, potentially very young, boys with man-size attitudes. Skinny baggy jeans (an amazing conquest of the modern day). One had a Puerto Rican flag draped over the front of his jeans- it was a little too flag-as-penis for me, but the mix of nationalism and machismo definitely worked for him. They bounded on stage yelling “Grito!” and laughed at themselves a little when they saw the tiny audience of parents and little kids (it was still early in the day). They rapped (in Spanish mostly) but with dance-melodic flow – there was most definitely some auto-tune in there, and what sounded to me like video game sounds. My 13-year-old niece could explain it better. They knew how to put on a show, backed by a girl in a net shirt half dancing/half stroking herself, and two somewhat awkward boys fly dancing. One tall slim dark woman with bleached hair danced the entire set with her Puerto Rican flag flying in the style of a high school drill team. It was entertaining and heartening.

[Brentwood, NY] highest quality rap show I’ve ever seen, especially at SXSW – VegasFashionisto recommended them and I happened to walk by – two MCs and 1 DJ – kind of a Wu Tang sound but maybe more clubby – the crowd was live

[New Orleans, LA] this group threw me off with their look (don’t quite fit any place or decade that I know of) but their sound was all booty rap and bass, kind of old school – per his/her myspace, the appropriate description is ‘bounce rap’ – I stand by my name, though, because the band members spent a lot of time doing fancy booty moves in swirly underpants – their myspace also makes them out to be a gay/cross-gender, but from I was standing, this wasn’t clear – people were helplessly drifting to this show – it was irresistible – but when the line of people waiting to get in or gawking over the fence started booty dancing too, it was hilarious, especially the pale little hipsters – one drunk party girl was trying to get in with her smooth booty moves, it didn’t work – and the best best part was the sullen and uncomfortable long-haired old rocker monitoring the line – oh, I love it when cultures collide

[France] “Those, those beautiful boys / Those, those beautiful boys / Born illegitimately / To a whore, most likely / He became an orphan / Oh what a lovely orphan he was / Sent to the reformatory / Ten years old, was his first glory / Got caught stealing from a nun / Now his love story had begun” – those lyrics are pretty much why I went to this show – and because I think their general sound is pretty remarkable – [on a side note, you've got to hear how they sing the song to really appreciate it, and, as usual for me, it was not played at their live show which I sadly realized was because it features Antony from Antony and the Johnsons who was not touring with them] – it ends up I may have been more enthused about the crowd than the band, but the band deserves a lot of credit for the crowd – so the crowd was fantastic – some mix of neo psych hippies, ravers, plain old burners, steam punks, and some unfortunate ones in renaissance garb – the common theme was iridescent eye paint or painted-on pencil moustaches on girls, which I came to find out was part of the whole CocoRosie cult I didn’t know existed – surprisingly, at least to me, there were also lots and lots of lesbians – I’m always confused as to how the lesbians unite and figure out which bands they love but turns out one of the sisters is a lesbian plus the band promotes drag, androgyny, etc. – there were also an awful lot of young females falling out, e.g., being carried out because of excess consumption – not sure if it’s because the crowd was pretty young or if the band attracts a druggier crowd – anyway, the band is comprised of 2 sisters who are artistes in every sense of the word – one had long romantic hair and sang in an operatic voice (properly trained) and plucked a harp – the other one with the squeaky baby voice that defines CocoRosie (at least to me) strutted around with male attitude and had a baseball cap on top of a feminine doo-rag on top of long brown hair – I much preferred her – there was a keyboardist guy and then a little unassuming guy who did a human beat box solo that was amazing and referenced actual American hip-hop songs – their music is a lot more diverse than I was aware of before the show – they manage to incorporate electronic, hip-hop, classical, and pop into a sound that ends up being pretty distinctly theirs – many bizarre instruments come into play – I think the thing I liked most about their sound is that they play childhood innocence off of the dark realizations of growing up and seeing stuff – especially with the two sisters interplaying their vastly different attitudes and sounds (think Enya intermixed with ghetto dance rap), it’s a bizarre but beautiful marriage of cultures (which I am always a fan of) – so I thought they were from France and assumed their inclusion of rap and the bad sister’s headdress was a nod to the French Muslim outcasts – I also assumed their air of hipster superiority was a product of general French superiority, but turns out, they’re American, and the superiority is a product of New York – the good sister moved to France early on to study opera but the bad sister moved to Brooklyn to party at Kill Whitie parties – those parties are a whole other conversation, but the sisters are worth looking up in general because of their interesting backgrounds – other notes of interest: 1) Rockboy overheard a couple mating in the outhouse bathrooms, 2) the most shocking girl was the one in a modest dress with granny panties that clearly shone through (a lesson to the young girls) , 3) the bad sister moistened her clarinet in her beer like the bad ass she is, 4) Rockboy happily gave up all claims of being a hipster once he realized that hipsters are now parting at the back of their skull and combing their hair forward, and 5) there is a series of really interesting photos of the sisters that do a nice job of expressing their artistic vision

[Baltimore, MD] I wanted to see her badly because she\”s 1) a female rapper, 2) from Baltimore, home to Spank Rock and The Wire (I know), and 3) features M.I.A. in several songs – the last reason was the only one that convinced Rockboy to join me – so her DJ was too repetitive and simple to compare her to M.I.A. but she was fast and cute – hard dance rap as you\”d expect from Baltimore – best part was the two matching MALE dancers flanking her all elbows out and knees up, seemed more inspired by traditional African dancing (super sped up) than hip-hop dancing – really liked the dancing – the 2nd floor bar was filled to capacity but with everybody crowded into 1/2 of the bar to see the 2nd stage – when the floor started bending and shaking, Rockboy and I made plans to save ourselves by jumping on the bar when the floor collapsed

[Auckland, New Zealand] after being rejected from the Band of Horses show, I wandered off into stranger lands where New Zealanders are gangster and hard – so Mr. Sicc is a rosy cheeked rotund boy in a baggy clothes, tattooes and cap – his rapping was spot on hardcore except for when he’d break to blush and talk to the crowd – when the crowd (of 20) didn’t pick up on chanting “Mr. Sicc” quickly enough, he took a break to explain, kindly, that in his country he is actually one of the top 3 rappers – I heard once that people who don’t ride horses or herd cows ought not sing country and maybe people who aren’t growing up in American ghettoes ought not sing hardcore rap. but I guess these terms have been violated across all realms of music

[Colorado] best rap show I saw – a tall lanky black guy with a bowtie tattooed around his neck – incredible dynamism and demand of the crowd, coming right to the end of the stage with a habit of bending from the waist to sing in two halves – he charmed me by switching off the intensity to smile uncertainly and kind of giggle or to lean down and ask the white punk in the front if the sound was okay – brought two pals up to do a hardcore number and then went solo to do a booty-shaking dance rap number “for the ladies” – it was clear he was odd in a very intelligent way – lots of diversity, lots of intensity, and lots of quality

[San Francisco, CA] recommended by my sister\”s VegasFashionisto who knows these things – I thought it was going to be mellow alt-rap, which I like ok, but it was much harder, which I like even better – three guys waving their arms up and down, taking turns as front man, and backed by a DJ who played dark hard beats – they said they had literally just driven in, only having had time to brush their teeth before arriving – they also said two members hadn\”t made it because one was locked up and one was in Fresno – being in Fresno seemed a really odd place to be… until I found out that\”s where they\”re originally from

[Kansas City] I\”m guessing this wasn\”t a SXSW-ordained show but they were good in their wacky way – one had a helmet on with blinking lights strung around it and another word a huge furry animal mask the entire show – bizarreo alt-rap – slow understated flow that sounds soothing and cool at the same time – I\”m guessing the guy in the audience (1 of about 10) pressed against the stage singing along was a manager/friend

[Philadelphia, PA] – two white guys with a very East coast working class look – I thought that they were going to be rappers but ended up being some weird amalgam of punk, electronica and hip-hop – the frenzied audience seemed to already know them – didn\”t quite like them but they were interesting

after Ghostface Killah, found their new upbeat rap appalling and boring – but they quickly shifted “back to the 90s” and I was in heaven again: droning bass-heavy rap – I realize that my taste remains the same across genres: the dark and droning, whether metal, ambient or rap, will always captivate this girl

seemed to focus more on Wu-Tang stuff than his solo material – his voice is appealing, more boyish and winsome than other members – my memory of his set is unfortunately overshadowed by the silly 20-somethings next to us who were dying to start a fight with any willing fellow audience member – I pulled out my old teacher face and down-eyebrowed them – Wu-Tang’s still the only cult I’d willingly join

Detroit MI – I was very disturbed by this show – it was a white female in a boy haircut, baseball cap and baggy clothes – the point is, of the few showcases that highlighted genuine rap, all the SXSW officials could come up with was some little white girl????… reeks of racism to me – not to downplay her – she could flow, as they say, and had intricate lyrics – far more political than the act before her – similar hardcore but minimalist style – but in reality, her voice was pretty weak – she also had a lot of technical difficulties with her CD/DJ which probably wasn’t her fault – I enjoyed her more when she was joined by a black guy with a resounding voice – was really at this showcase to see Pigeon John but they were running late and I had places to be : (

Ann Arbor MI – yummy! – totally different crowd and totally different sound – young black boy with arm extended pumping and stage roaming – had a sidekick rapper and a DJ – it was intelligent/political hardcore rap but minimalist/old-school style – he was good but the sound in the venue didn\”t allow him to shine as he might have elsewhere

she was the rapper I’d come to see (part of the British grime scene) and she wasn’t quite what I expected – I pictured a wannabe type gangster girl, more pretty than tough, but she was far more “legit” than the two female rappers before her: small intense-looking white girl in baggy clothes, baseball cap, snarly rapping, etc. – you can’t help but be totally sucked into her world: Eminem-like phrasing and attitude, cockney accent, and total stage dynamism and mastery – lots of silly posturing but I loved her – she could rap fast and plays in interesting twists with her words and her voice – her DJ samples a lot, including American music, and can go from kooky noises to harder synth walls – am currently considering my rapper potential

all-class sultry deep-voiced black girl rapping over groovy electronic big-bass DJ tracks – another bad ass – her music was harder and she was better than Amanda Blank – girl power begins to surge in the room

swanky white city girl who raps like a bad-ass boy – she was all swishy smooth black hair with a pretty girl gold necklace – she held her microphone close to her mouth with forearm extended straight and covered in a mass of tiny gold bracelets – she had a DJ backing her with hardcore party rap – big crowd – I quite enjoyed her oooh, just looked her up and she’s associated with a party rap band from Baltimore whom I have really been liking: Spank Rock! even better and she’s apparently “dirty rap” though I totally missed that

We’re all bickering on a hot street: WomanInCharge on crutches and no cabs in sight. Two of us head off towards busier corners to find a taxi when what to our wondering eyes should appear, but an oddly shaped taxicab coming so near. We whooped, climbed in and shortly realized that this was no normal taxi. It was shaped like a big box, had a stripper’s pole and fluorescent lighting. Even better, there was an interactive jukebox-style touch screen with a wealth of music videos from the 70s to 00s to choose from. 3 to 4 TV screens allowed a clear view for every passenger. The kind of random magic that only happens during SXSW or anytime of the year for the lucky few who know to call 512-626-TAXI.

with the DJ still in place, Kool Keith suddenly materialized with an average-joe-rapper sidekick in tow (fast, upbeat, clean-cut) – sidekick seemed to be there to keep the show moving, keep Kool Keith in touch with the crowd, and monitor Kool Keith in general – perhaps I was biased by reports that Kool Keith has schizophrenia but he definitely didn’t dissuade me of his insanity – his head and most of his face was shrouded in a silver be-glittered wrap and he had on a plush velour-like jacket – the show wasn’t what I expected – I was only familiar with the Black Elvis incarnation of Kool Keith and it was too spacey and freaky for me – the nerdy rapper notion I had of him was entirely off – he’s from the Bronx and the huge range of his sound always had a menacing undertone – the beats ranged from gangsta rap to party/dance rap to intelligent hip-hop to quirky nerd rap to nasty freak rap – his voice was good, smooth and calm and low – the lyrics were complicated but then full of silly rhymes – roller-derby-looking girl had warned me that Kool Keith typically plays 30 seconds of each song before switching which she found upsetting but was all right by me – seemed like the only songs they finished were the explicitly sexual ones – they did invite girls up from the crowd and one drunk one is embarrassed today at the spectacle she made of herself – the sidekick did the “hoo hoo” that the Wu-Tang does and I want to know what it means – the sidekick handled most of the crowd pumping and interaction but Kool Keith went off on a monologue at one point that was so nonsensical it was hilarious (Who likes sandwiches? Who likes Super 8s? Who likes the roach that crawls across your hotel window?…) – in then end, the music was really good and the two rappers were endearing – Kool Keith seemed an insane genius, still a child though, and his sidekick is the supportive vehicle through which he can communicate with the world

I liked this guy a lot but I’m not positive that’s his name – I thought he was calling himself Rick Undercut! he came out in a stupid fake long clumpy beard but he worked the crowd (unlike last guy), he moved quickly through his songs (which always pleases my quick-process style) and played a diverse mix of soul, hardcore rap, and sleazy 70s funk, he did a little bit of scratching but mostly was attentive and interactive, he had an unfortunately drab voice but it didn’t hurt him too much

Kool Keith deserves all of this intro crap since I was waiting for him but the DJ who annoyed me is going to get it all instead! I, like an old unhip girl, believed the hype that the Mohawk was obeying noise ordinances and running shows early. So I showed up at 9pm on the dot and waited for, count them, 2 ½ hours – I was counting them. The crowd stopped being interesting after about 17 minutes. The crowd was diverse – there were actually black people at a Red River show – there’s hope for Austin yet – otherwise there were hipsters, kickers, frat boys and a ton of stoners. As I sat there, I thought, I love the Austin music scen and it has a smell. Then I met a girl who looked like a roller derby girl but wasn’t, but she was friends with one. She’d been beat up by her best girl friend of 25 years and had a broken foot. I knew she wasn’t Texan because she was at this show (San Diego) and she guessed my height exactly (9′ ½). As I waited longer, I figured out the smell: fresh humid air, cigarette smoke (mild b/c smoking’s generally banned), the sweet sweet smell of pot (if you’re at a hip-hop show), stale alcohol (I’m only saying that because I feel like I should – the music scene smell is in reality too good to include this), and MALE PHEROMONE. So, anyway, we all sat or stood politely while good club/hip-hop music played. And then finally, there was somebody on stage. Apparently a “DJ,” he played music of the same sort that had been playing over the speakers while we waited but with more frequent segueways. I have a minor fascination with DJs but I either want to be backstage to see the technical action or be totally impressed by the mixing, scratching, etc. Although his music was very good, it wasn’t his, and he didn’t have the fancy tricks to redeem him. I can’t even remember what he looked like.

I’ll try not to gush but this was one of my top shows ever along with the likes of The Slits and Cracker in a state of delight throughout, though it’s in part because this band and I are simpatico it’s also because they are so thoroughly authentic unlike Kanye West or Johnny Cash for example, they simply satisfy every hip-hop need I have and repeatedly, so The RZA was the mastermind behind the Wu-Tang Clan, he did some of his solo stuff and some but not enough Wu-Tang stuff, the latter drove the crowd into a frenzy but the former was not bad either, they have the straightline rapping and quick turnaround beats that make hip hop good but are gorgeous because of their orchestral backdrops, most songs have a booming underrun of dark drone which reminded me of Flatlinerz though the Wu-Tang is 1000 times better, the Kung Fu movie references are silly and endearing to me but not sure that’s the intention, some of it is so raw that it’s noticeably under-produced but that’s kind of the point for me, anyway back to the show, he was backed by a keyboard, DJ, bass guitarist, some female vocalists and a whole cadre of foolish up and comers and groupies from the audience – he even looked annoyed by one of his boys who had drank/done too much, it was like being at a cult meeting what with the upraised hands in W position but a cult I actually wanted to join which is atypical for me, there’s an eerie owl hoot that recurs in their songs and this fool white beanie-and-bizarre-glasses-wearing boy behind me kept screaming it to the point of hilarity for me

really not good, sounded canned, little guy with tons of energy was cute, were trying so hard to be hard but really only had one decent song

he was fine, sounds similar to The RZA, got angry with the DJ periodically

good white boy hip-hop DJ with a nervous lack of stage presence, supposedly the local opener for many hip-hop shows according to the fool young one who hit on me and then asked me to buy him a drink

unimpressive rap/funk outfit at first – first rapper was too Tribe but the second rapper (he walked in late through a side door in his sweat suit and gut) was a little dirtier and much smoother – very interesting concoction of a band: keyboard, two guitarists, drummer, sax, trumpet, trombone and two rappers – though Mr. Rapper was good I think I enjoyed their departure into salsa the most – they did get people dancing in an unreceptive bar

I knew of one song he did with Beck (‘Pullin’ Up Roots’), we decided to go because description of him was wicked and evil, he was a good DJ “Metallica, new wave” and it turned out he was an even better rapper, gothic men with black fingernails should not rap, show was entertaining for its uniquity, ended up being disturbing because he was clearly mentally unstable (thus genius) or at least horribly miserable, and though he clearly hated us (the crowd) he seemed slavishly hungry for our worship or was trying really hard to promote his albums by throwing them into the crowd, and pouring beer from a pitcher into upturned mouths

oh my god they sucked ass, interesting concept-three prog guitarists with a cheerleader hip-hop girl and a gawky girl, high energy and no grab, they had their 70s moments I guess and the prog without hip-hop girl was fine but overall just CRAP

five guys rapping over the same beat looping again and again, unfortunate for that to be Rockboy’s first exposure to hip-hop