The first odd thing I see this morning is a man on 11th street with a tiny drum kit and a cymbal attached to the bike helmet he's wearing. Have some chips to start the day at a bar and move out.

The Men sound hazy half drunk and 100% live which is a hot brand to the face in this Southern Texas City, southerner than all of Arizona and New Mexico and California at the Beauty Bar for the Consequence of Sound party.

Barely catch the last three strikes of Mr. Dream's drums and then they leave a guitar squealing on the stage.

Screaming Females do less than that but collide the dark tenor of Extra Life with the crash and grandeur of Titus. Bail out. Run into people I recongize already on day two but only around the streets.

Snap photos everywhere. Take pictures of every band I see but will never know on the sidewalk.

Grackles everywhere miming mina birds and the humidity tackling you like a high school linebacker for no reason in gym. Collide with a man who shows me Third Millenium Chess which is basically a chess board wrapped around a paper towel roller.

Hit the Driskill bar for $5 Fireman. Follow Theophilus London from the Hopi/Navajo/ornate Southwestern vibe on 6th Street to the Fader Fort, which I don't know where that is.

Theophilus high fives at least six strangers in the five or so blocks.

Sneak in later after being told I don't have credentials--confused by that and RSVPing in general. Feel discourteous at that thought.

Watch Two Chainz in his first SXSW performance and it bangs and there's much Gucci and smoke and arms everywhere. Try and get backstage because our backs hurt but told again we don't belong. That's fine.

Gravel and dust and ping-pong and Bushmill's dunked lemonade and Oberhofer goes on and Brad, of the band's namesake calls Austin the most beautiful city in the world.

The sun is a butter timbre through the clouds as I breath dust and feel hazy half-drunk and 100 percent live.

Photos of all of it and more to come.

California Mexico London SXSW