(Posted by Kate Mackley in Austin)

Thursday 3 p.m.

Wednesday is a thing of the past. Thursday hasn't even begun yet.

People packed 6th Street by noon on Wednesday. As I walked by bar after bar, just south of the downtown business section and the University on 6th Street, Deep Ellum paled in comparison. 6th Street isn't the other side of the tracks, it's part of the life of Austin. Banks and corporate offices weren't under a bridge, over the highway way, they are interspersed with the bars, clubs, and restaurants. Scary little bars were only a block or so away from Irish pubs, granite corporate buildings, and upscale shopping. 6th Street is for the most part clean, well lit, ungraffitied. This week it's full of every indie rocker, music power broker, and poser in Texas.

The rush of hearing "Soft Radio" by Airline floating out of the open windows of BD Riley's was incredible. I sang loudly as I crossed the street and got a few looks on the way to Airline, Sorta, and Johnny Lloyd Rollin's first unofficial show. As a friend said, "everywhere we go, we look for home," and that's exactly how I felt. It was a homecoming to be back with everyone from Dallas in the excitement of the start of SxSW. Airline rocked the set, with a crowd that looked to have a significant number of over-35 badge holders, always a good sign at the festival. I have my fingers crossed Someone heard them. Sorta followed, with their consistent set of the new songs. Cindy and I had to scoot out before Johnny though because we got the call from Midlake and I finally finally got the call from someone who knew someone who could actually tell me that if you go with a badge holder they can buy a wristband for you at registration. It's not hard, and I'm not sure why it was a top-secret deal, but that's the scoop. Find a badge holder, and they may buy ONE wristband for you (at a reasonable price) and the only catch is you have to be there when they buy it so it can be put on your wrist, and that wristbands aren't sold out. No problem. Thanks Cindy!! End of stress.

We hoofed it over to the Midlake interview and I watched Flaming Lips soundcheck after. Photos to follow, but technical difficulties are preventing uploading today. Check back tomorrow for those. As for the Lips, I give kudos to any drummer who can play a neon pink kit and rock the house. Wayne Coyen and crew ran into a snag when load in took a little longer and the sound left before they could play half a song. What was that guy, a union member? This was the Flaming Lips, asking quite nicely to be allowed to play half a song, and he left? Um, ok.

The rest of the night was running from one venue to another. First dinner over at the New Mexico tourism showcase. The Land of Enchantment brought in their own fruity wine in generic bottles and beer, and gave it away. Nice that. They also bought dinner. Las Manitas is a little Mexican place and to get to the stage – yes, they had an actual stage, as apparently does every little hole-in-the-wall downtown – you had to walk through the kitchen. As is normal during the festival, the band announced the start of their party, and not the time they played, so I was there two hours too soon to see them. I chatted and got chatted up, drank a pretty reasonable amount of the grape juice, and headed out to catch– The Zutons! Yes, it was a private party, and no, I wasn't invited, but that little press pass on my camera was more golden than a badge and I wasn't just admitted, I was escorted to the front of the stage. Ah, the perks of blogging for TexasGigs. This is the best most amazing part of the festival- getting to see not one great band, but four, or five in a night. True, you don't get much of them, but it's more like an aural expander than a total experience. I go home knowing a little about a lot more bands I had only ever heard rumors of. Garrison, you'd be proud of me. I caught Crushed Stars lazing through their jam set of atmospheric pop, then saw the end of the New Pornographers, and Belle & Sebastian at Stubbs after, both amazing. "Sonic candy" as roots rocker Jayson Bales tagged B&S. Sweet and light, B&S immediately quieted the crowd and couples all around swayed. They are a happy band, kind of a Happy Bullets without the Monty Python influence. No hard edges to Belle & Sebastian.

The best (and worst) of the night came with the Secret Machines. First, there was no line to get in, no one was there. Then the set began an hour late, a bit unlike the schedule the festival normally keeps, and then the band was in a pissed-off mood. Guitars had problems and the keyboard buzzed and popped and got kicked over in frustration at the end of the set (no one came out for an encore, hardly surprising) but the Secret Machines have "it." Whatever it is for a band to be more than a blip on the radar, more than DIYer's, less than rock stars, Secret Machines have it. Rabid fans crowded up to the barricade, knew every word and clambered over to pick up sticks afterwards. These three guys made La Zona Rosa rock like an arena. It was two, I had been going since 5AM, and I couldn't have cared less. I wanted to stay. I wanted to hear "Nowhere Again", I wanted to see Ben Curtis' agony as he sang it, I wanted to feel Josh Garza's drums rip through my chest as he pummeled his kit. He doesn't use sticks, he pounds using tree trunks with grips, which he breaks cleanly in half (and then throws at photographers). Despite their frustration at the bad beginning, the rough middle, and the angry end, Secret Machines gave a Performance. They have "it."

Today, I woke up and realized in my tired stupor of running around last night, I missed the Echo and the Bunnymen, Spoon, and Tapes and Tapes after party. Damn. Well, that's SxSW. You gotta sleep sometime