Kid Canaveral at SxSW: How the West was won and where it got us

Well, that was quite something. I’ve now got a proper-sized keyboard, so hopefully there’ll be less typos in this one [I’ve just read it back. I am aware that the tense is probably all over the shop. I don’t care. I have The Jetlag.]. After our 3 shows and lots of sun adventures, we had our last bit of filming with the BBC. Folko takes this opportunity to repeatedly rib me about my ‘big red face’. I remember liking Folko. It’s not my fault that my skin is still vulnerable to UV despite repeated applications of factor 30. Anyway, we’re given the photograph of us with Edinburgh Castle as a backdrop during the ‘before’ interview we filmed, to hold in the new shot. None of us can remember looking so serious. Rose looks slightly cheery, but Kate looks like she’s actually kicking someone on the ground in front of her, just out of shot. I’m smouldering. Ashen and hairy, not in a sexy way. Like the remains of a campfire that a beard has fallen on. Scott is just his usual ‘dangerous’ self. This means that we all look slightly manic for the ‘during/after’ shot whilst holding the 'before' picture, to make up for it.

We head back to the house, dump our stuff and I try and tame my crimson flesh with some after sun. Most of the Aloe Gel turns to steam upon contact. We all take five and Scott heads into town slightly before us to see The Twilight Sad. As much as I would have liked to catch them again, I need to sit in the dark and drink a lot of water for about an hour. Kate, Rose and I headed into join Scott and find that he and Vic Galloway have led each other astray with some Margarita action. We all congregate on Maggie Mae's to catch The Jezabels and do some chatting to folk about 'music things', whilst deflecting comments about sunburn. Right OK, that was just me. The Jezabels are good, but the stage isn't so hot. To get to the toilet, punters have to cross it at the side. Frontwoman Hayley Mary has some set of lungs on her and recalls The Mighty (Kate) Bush at points. 
 
We all decamp to the British Music Embassy at Latitude 30 and catch the end of the Wichita Showcase. Clock Opera are on, and they serve as a bloody brilliant last band to see at SxSW 2011. The drink is in full flow now and Vic is being quite the raconteur, with stories that would make you mother drag you from the room by your ear. I'm introduced to one of the organisers and somehow get involved in a round of strange whisky based shooters. It's nice. I can feel the calluses on my hands soften and my aching muscles stop throbbing. Hello drunkeness, my old friend. There is talk of a lock-in which is most appealing, but when the time comes we decide it would be better to head back to our digs due to the fact that Scott wants to catch the Scottish League Cup Final (10am TX time Kick Off) and that we have a photo shoot for a book about Rock and Roll (or something) tomorrow. And that Scott is blootered. Laugh Out Loud.

The next morning arrives and Scott stoats off to the Cup Final, which is being shown at Fado's Irish Pub, still half-cut. The rest of us get there in time for extra time. Scott has topped up his alcohol level. We have a couple of breakfast pints and then head off to Waterloo Records with some of the Twilight Sad. Andy and Scott have a competition to see who is the drunkest. They don't know about it though, as it's only in my head. I mentally pin the 1^st place rosette on Andy. Tam (Coyle, DJ and Tartan Army-er extraordinaire) 'entertains' us all with some howlin' jokes. We make it to the street of Waterloo Records and the giant, flagship Whole Foods Store. There is a split between those hungry for vinyl and those hungry for, well, food. I manage to fall into the nerdier former category and end up splurging $127 dollars on vinyl in half an hour. 
 
After Waterloo’s excesses, we head to Whole Foods and get sandwiches the size of our heads, and salad, as we're in dire need of some fruit/veg, that isn't lime in a drink. There is more beer. Scott has a power nap on the table. Kate and Rose head off to find some shoes to replace Kate’s dilapidated and uncomfortable trainers, leaving me, Shannon and Lauree to drink up and make sure no one steals Scott. Nick (Giudici) from Popup leans out of a car window and shouts something unintelligible at us. I’m beginning to feel pretty ropey after all the sun yesterday, all the drink yesterday and the no-fluid-apart-from-beer today. We finish our drinks and the four of us begin to head along West 6^th Street toward East 6^th Street where Kate and Rose have arrived. We’ve got a photoshoot, you see. It’s for a book on Rock n Roll and the life of bands on the road. About how it isn’t all drugs, erotic dalliances with women/men/both, partying, refilling the miniatures in the hotel minibar with water and/or urine, but actually a lot of hard work when you’re still humping your own gear about etc. The photographer is an incredibly tall chap called Sully Sullivan. He assures us that this is his real name. I didn’t even raise an eyebrow. The photoshoot goes well? Scott and I wear sunglasses. Why not? I’ve managed not to take myself seriously thus far. Plus, they draw focus from my “big, red coupon”. Scott indulges in some ‘Monkees’ style antics. We write a wee bit around our photo detailing the band's story. I manage to summarise it into four lines. Job done, we head over to the nearest bar that doesn’t look like the proprietor will harvest our organs, and get a seat and a drink while we wait for a cab.
 
Our last night in Austin is spent having dinner with Michael, whom we stayed with, in a microbrewery. Rose absolutely pumps Scott at darts, leaving him somewhat bewildered and Rose somewhat surprised. A visit to a bowling alley in South Austin allows us to say our goodbyes and thank yous to the various members of the BBC, Detour and Creative Scotland teams and we head back for 4 hours of shut-eye before the drive to George Bush Intercontinental Airport (!) in Houston.
 
Rose and Scott get flights back to commitments in Edinburgh and Glasgow, respectively, and Kate and I fly to another Republican President (Ronald Reagan National Airport in DC) before heading to a friends beach house on the Outer Banks in North Carolina (thanks, Kristine!). We spend the next few days cycling, wandering about, eating seafood and coming up with drinking game rules to make the March Madness College Basketball interesting. At all. The few days off is a real welcome break. It’s been a mad 12 months, from finishing the album to releasing and promoting it. Numerous shows, interviews, practices, long drives, form-filling, hair-tearing, radio sessions and day jobs. They have taken their toll. It’s been amazing but we were exhausted. Looking back at our New York and SxSW adventures, they seem like a strange dream. It was a huge effort to get out there and it certainly wasn’t cheap, but we’d already started to see the benefits before we went. We met some very interesting folk, made some super-fans, and we’ve got a number of e-mails to respond to, and things to talk about. I won’t bore you with/ be unprofessional with the details ;)

I’d insist we did it again in a heartbeat.