THS III: PUSSYVIOLENCE, MUGWUMP

That's all folks. The House Show III, your favorite show that isn't a show and hasn't been at a house in 5 months, is done. We've got the always excellent Pussyviolence and the always on The House Show Mugwump playing a full set at Beerland from a month back. No one fights a bull but it's pretty good. If you don't like us on Facebook already do it here.

We're Back

God spited and smited us two weeks ago when he took Andie's mac book from this plane of plain existence. With Final Cut blue balls Acolyte is back to cutting with a new machine funded by the entertainment industrial complex and we promise to annoy the shit out of you with annoying and shitty music. First up, the first half of The House Show III.

35 DENTON: AFTER ACTION REPORT

Thursdays blitz into Denton and Fridays absence of constant stimulation and surplus of bad news prepared us well enough for the highs and lows of Saturday. Rain materialized once we hit the road and didn't let up for more than an occasional drizzle the entire evening. The 'Chain seemed to making an appearance in spirit, if not body, by forcing everyone to wear ponchos, the closest thing the western world still has to a hair shirt. Higher forms of assholes brought umbrellas, the best thing to block a stage with, compounding the collective misery.

We set through half of Devin the Dudes set. We may of felt more inclined to stick around if it was a sunny day and we had a 'rillo a piece, but the dude didn't have the energy to shake off the rain and cold, despite his perma-baked affability. We ran into a local friend and reconvened at The Love Shack for food, booze, and shelter.




We walked back into the wet while Best Coast signed off from one of the main stages. That we missed her by seconds seemed to signal a positive change in our luck. With higher expectations and cholesterol levels courtesy of ribs and hotdogs we waited for the serious half of the late UGK to take stage. Bun B was exactly what we expected. Dude walked up to the edge of the stage and let it be known that he did not give a fuck about the rain. He played the hits, all of them, and finished in an hour. Maybe in twenty more years he'll have a two hour show of choice verses if he's not running a record label off a moon base or doing whatever the fuck else the trillest does on retirement in 2032. The only problem with an hour of bars is that songs with other rappers get chopped in half or a third, even with Pimp's lines ghosted by his surviving partner. The whole presentation had a sawed-off staccato feel kept afloat by the sheer weight of Bun's charisma and word play.



We made a vain attempt to balance out the day with a few rock shows at JJ's Pizza, but the show was at capacity only minutes after the headlining acts had finished. We booked it to Hailey's, knowing that any chance of seeing Main Attrakionz would take the brute force of speed and press passes to get ahead of the poor kids lined around the block with wristbands. We jumped the line, dropped a few dollars at the bar, and settled into some seats while water evaporated off our clothing and we waited through a couple of promising local rap crews(-topic, Brain Gang). The two kids from Cali we'd been expecting hit the stage with their entourage and quickly started sucking most of Denton's fairer sex onto stage. By the end of the set they had countless girls with black square frames and nautical themed ink busting it wide open to some of the finer hip hop to come out this year. The kids dissolved the boundary of the stage and turned Hailey's into a youthful clusterfuck of energy, all while giving banter no play where a banger would suffice, making the set a total inverse of Bun's more statesman like approach.




Main Attrakionz departed off the stage and a well placed hand shake with Jack's right hand and a HD camera in his left were enough for us to score our first interview. We set up in the green room where Squadda Bambino, Mondre Man, and the rest of their clique held court. We talked briefly, surprised by their mutual appreciation for Salem and Cash Money and certain of their confidence and drive. That interview and a video of their set will be coming out soon.


We walked back into the rain mildly euphoric and headed to a home away from home that some close friends had provided for us in Dallas. We informed them of our decision to cut our coverage a day short, scorned by a line-up that looked piss poor without the Reid brothers at the helm. We slept late and made our way back to Austin, equally elated and jaded.

35 DENTON: BUMMER DAZE

The second day of 35 Denton started slow between five o'clock traffic and and value menu Taco Bell. We arived around Seven o'clock with nothing to do until 11:30. We walked around, noticed the audio diarrhea coming off the main stage, and in general got our barings. During this we met some random art and multi media students who smoked and drank us out while watching our own DVD. It was like a neurotic enema. After conversations about bi-planes and scaring them with noise music and learning about the Mary Chain's visa problems we slumped back to the club bummed about absent Scots.

We originally planned on covering Sleep-Over, a group neither of us has really payed much attention too, but we ended up bailing after the apocalyptic-horror-music-aportion that was the first act. I'm not really into -house anything anyway.

After some very un-sober dialogue about respectful distances and the inevitable roman-esque fall of American society inspired by and based on the shamble-ear-rape we had just experienced we took off to our last and final stop of the night a full hour and forty five minutes early. Thank God for $2 slices at Mellow Mushroom.

The first act we experienced at Mellow seemed, again, to prove our own apocalyptic hypothesis. Needless to say it wasn't our thing. I aborted to the bathroom to get away from the mediocre seeping off the stage and splash some water in my face, still dizzy from the Jim Bean and Kush, when randomly I saw Daniel Francis Doyle seemingly doing the same thing- texting on his phone. I unashamedly introduced myself and let him know of our mutual aquaintences. He was very polite and interested, especially for a bathroom stall conversation. I bugged out after giving him a DVD and found a comfy stall to sit in to roll my eyes at the performace on stage and when some thought all was lost Daniel Francis Doyle started to set up. Boasting a backing band, instead of his one man show, I knew I was in for the first positive musical experience of the night. DFD began to play, channeling Roy Orbison and everything good about Modest Mouse filling the room with positive vibes. It was definitely a different experience than his one man show, but having a backing band lets the audience focus on the superb songwriting and lyrical meloncholy that define DFD's music instead of focusing on the spectacle of a one man show.

Even if tonight was mostly a bummer, except for the free intoxicants and the solid performance by DFD, we still have high hopes for Tomorrow, pun intended.

35 DENTON: BLAST OFF

OTW
INBETWEEN

ST 2 LETTAZ of G-Side

We hit the road at 3:30 northbound for Denton. We made excellent time and prayed for dry weather the entire way. Jack's windshield wipers barely worked, ratcheting up the intensity of a southbound stormfront that seemed to be promising rain. It hit. Then the windshield wipers fixed themselves. Miraculously. Somehow. We exhaled and then started to imitate the brothers from car talk. We got our press passes by 8, jumping the queue of wristband seekers to get a shiny plastic badge that promises the best seats in the house for four days of exceptional music.

Then things got boring. We killed time and High-Lifes waiting to see a band neither of us had heard before but had been talked about in reverant terms by respected peers, despite having the retarded name Terminator 2. They were great. Noisy-sludge that seemed to have the fuck-it attitude of Big Black but with more bass and less treble. We'll have video of it soon and we're positive you'll enjoy it about as much as seing the governator smash Hells Angels Faces.

The superlative True Widow got on stage at Rubber Gloves next. The cigarette smoke turned to pot smoked and dudes with huge beards and hand tattoos got stoked. Any fan of slow and loud that has the lung capacity to get down on their psychadelic wave-length deserves to see a set from these guys n' gal. Especially if you're from their hometown of Dallas, because fuck, that town is out to kill anything good. Anyway, we got video of that too. Stay tuned.

We sprinted out of the venue to catch G-Side at Andy's. We got in after the set had kicked off but before ST 2 Lettaz and Yung Clove intorduced their back-up singers. Really all you need to know is they have back-up singers. Fucking awesome. The set was plagued by technical difficulties but they made the most of it. The best thing about hip-hop shows is that even if you don't know all the verses you'll nail the chorus by the second go-round, so even if the song cuts out the emcee can work the crowd into an epic white college girl sing along while the dude with the laptop gets his sound straight. See it for yourself when we're back in Austin and final-cut trapping.

Tomorrow will be slimer pickings, with the itenerary including Austin acts Daniel Francis Doyle and Sleep Over . Stay tuned though, with that much time on our hands we're bound to get into some sort of trouble.

P.S. If y'all want more up to date on the spot updates on our excursion like us on Facebook.

Itenerary

35 Denton

Sup bitches. Acolyte scored press passes to 35 Denton this year, ya know the one the FUCKING MARY CHAIN AND BUN B is playing at. So yeah, we're fucking stoked, and guess what? We're going to take all y'all along with us for the ride. So stay tuned for MUSIC JOURNALISM. I know its scary, but don't worry we'll hold your hand.

GIVE US FREE DRUGS

Love,

Acolyte