BEST FRONTWOMAN HYBRID: SLEIGH BELLS
Alison Mosshart's dangerous sex appeal + CSS singer Lovefoxxx's upbeat dance-floor groove + Crystal Castles badass Alice Glass' noisy ferocity = Alexis Krauss, a school teacher turned steamy indie siren leading Brooklyn duo Sleigh Bells. Saturday night, she shifted from hip-hop and electro sass to power-rock, gyrating her hips in black tights, a mesh shirt showing a hot pink bra, and gold hoop earrings. She flipped her hair and fired over low-end electro beats and terrorizing nu-metal guitars courtesy of ex-Poison the Well axeman Derek. "No, no, no!" she huffed and puffed. Actually, yes, yes, yes! -- WILLIAM GOODMAN

Surfer Blood / Photo: Matt Kiser
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Circa Survive / Photo: Eric Nowels
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Minus The Bear / Photo: Eric Nowels
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BEST GROWTH SPURT: SURFER BLOOD
When I saw wobble-pop purveyors Surfer Blood play at last year's CMJ festival in New York City, I was underwhelmed. Singer-guitarist JP Pitts sounded strained and yelpy and the band as a whole seemed nervous and unsure of what to do with itself on stage. Not anymore. On Saturday night, Pitts sang with full-throated accuracy and strutted around the stage like he belonged, leading the band through catchy, Weezerian songs from this year's Astro Coast. At one point, second guitarist Thomas Fekete plucked out a solo with his teeth, prompting a friend to say, "Not that kind of band, dude." He's right, but it was great that Fekete had the balls to go for such a flashy bit of showmanship. --DAVID MARCHESE

BEST COVER: CIRCA SURVIVE
Playing to a throng of diehard fans on the frozen tundra of Stubb's BBQ, this Philly-based, turbocharged rock act was forced to pack as much wallop into their abbreviated set as possible after temperature-related issues with in-ear monitors sabotaged their start. But frontman Anthony Green is a force of nature, a whirling dervish of flailing arms and legs with a fuel-injected holler sourced from somewhere deep within. And while he lamented that it was "as cold as a billion dicks" outside, and had trouble hearing himself, Green quickly made folks forget they'd lost feeling in their extremities, particularly on a cover of Nirvana's "Milk It." Guitarists Colin Frangicetto and Brendan Ekstrom married Kurt Cobain's gnarly riffage with some stunning higher register wails, while Green took the vocals into operatic ranges never reached by the late grunge icon. If Courtney Love had heard them from down the street at the Perez Hilton party, where Hole was playing, she'd undoubtedly have already tweeted 47 love notes to Circa Survive. -- PETER GASTON

BEST MATERIAL FROM MODEL MATERIAL: KAREN ELSON
"I think I'm getting frostbite!" Karen Elson told a modest crowd during an outdoor set on a blustery, 40-degree afternoon at the French Ligation. Indeed, if anybody was there just to gawk at the supermodel wife of the White Stripes' Jack White, they were sorely disappointed. Fronting a color-coordinated band (peach and black), Elson declined an offer of a coat from a fan and soldiered on. The guitar-wielding 31-year-old, whose debut album (produced by her hubby) will be out this summer, has a loungey, twangy vibe that ventures into ethereal territory on her recently released single "The Ghost That Walks." And a nice touch: a rendition of Jackson C. Frank's "Milk and Honey," known primarily from cover versions by Nick Drake and Sandy Denny. -- KEVIN BRONSON

BEST UNDERATTENDED GIG: FRANKIE AND THE OUTS
In an indie rock popularity contest, Frankie Rose would be hard to beat, since the Brooklynite has drummed for garage-pop mainstays Crystal Stilts and Vivian Girls. This fall Frankie split from the Stilts to focus on her own jangle-pop project, Frankie and the Outs, who performed at Spiderhouse's chilly outdoor showcase. The band's debut 7-inch was out this fall on pioneering indie pop label Slumberland Records. "Thee Only One," like most of her songs, soundED straight from '80s fuzz-pop group (and labelmates) Black Tambourine's discography, with extra girl group harmonies for good measure. But ultimately the temperature beat the band; they called it quits after an all-too-short five-song set. -- JENN PELLY

BEST MEN IN BLACK: THE BOXER REBELLION
You've heard music like the Boxer Rebellion's before -- dark, brooding, churning Brit-rock made by lads who keen their angst over ringing guitars and 4/4 beats. The quartet, which made waves when its 2009 digital release Union cracked the Billboard charts, seems intent on separating itself from the pack. American singer Nathan Nicholson and his bandmates (an Australian and two Brits) easily won over a Cedar Street Courtyard crowd with songs like "Evacuate." Now for the big stuff: recording their third album this summer with Ethan Johns (Kings of Leon, Ryan Adams, the Vines), and landing a song in the next Twilight movie. -- KB

BEST ATTEMPT AT WARMING UP A COLD NIGHT: MINUS THE BEAR
"This weather is a tuning nightmare," said Minus the Bear singer-guitarist Jake Snider towards the end of his band's set on Stubb's fairly unprotected outdoor stage, just after another gust of wind ripped through the hoodied masses. The 40-degree temperatures were a nightmare in general -- most out-of-towners were vastly unprepared for yesterday's cold spell -- but the Seattle quintet's decision to play "Pachuca Sunrise," a cut from their 2005 album, Menos el Oso, was a fitting distraction. Its opening line about a night on a beach in the Mediterranean, coupled with warm, wavy guitar work from Snider and Dave Knudson, proved a truly transporting combination for a fleeting moment -- until that next gust of wind. -- PG

BEST EXAMPLE OF SONIC DÉTENTE: P.K. 14
In their homeland, Beijing quartet P.K. 14 might be ahead of the curve. Here, where the rebelliousness of the Clash and the riffage of Sonic Youth are familiar cultural currency, it's too easy to finger P.K. 14's lineage. The foursome brought admirable energy and stage aerobics to its set at the Chinese Invasion's showcase at Speakeasy, but the material felt pretty cut-and-paste, even given the language barrier. Better (and less desperate for subtitles) was the punk shoegazing of the Velvet Underground-inspired Carsick Cars, who preceded P.K. 14 to the stage. -- KB

P.K. 14 / Photo: Kathryn Yu
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Bone Thugs-N-Harmony / Photo: Kyle Dean Reinford
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Black Tusk / Photo: Kathryn Yu
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Dam-Funk / Photo: Matt Kiser
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BEST FLUX-CAPACITOR: BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY
"Yo, let's take this shit back, wayyyyyyy back," Krayzie Bone said onstage at the Fader Fort. "Back to 1995, motherfucka!" The reunited Cleveland rap group then busted out a handful of tracks off their four-million-selling '95 release, E. 1999 Eternal: "1st of tha Month," "Tha Crossroads," and "East 1999." The sound was initially a bit muddy on their turbo-fast raps, but hit a smooth streak when they got all Boyz 2 Men on "I Tried" and "Days of Our Lives," two piano ballads with three-way vocals. Hey, they're not joking about the "harmony" in their name. The throwback streak continued with tributes to Tupac, Eazy-E, and Notorious BIG, including a particularly awesome version of "Notorious Thugz," their collabo with Biggie. "Bring that fat motherfucker back to life!" Bizzy belted. Oh, snap! -- WG

BEST T-SHIRT AS A REPRESENTATIVE OF YOUR MUSIC: BLACK TUSK
You know that skull being pierced by two swords? Yeah, that's Black Tusk, the Savannah, GA, trio that comes at you with three vocalists, an army of tattoos, and a scream-heavy fusillade of bottom-heavy riffage that set the entire crowd at Encore in motion. They call it "swamp metal," but that's almost misleading -- the way guitarist Andrew Fidler and bassist Jonathan Athon fold their notes into the precise pounding of drummer James May is anything but murky. An underground Mastodon? -- KB

BEST PARTING WORDS FOR SXSW: JAPANDROIDS
There's a reason why some call SXSW a "rock'n'roll spring break": Loads of increasingly-past-their-prime music enthusiasts attempt to rediscover their younger selves, who could romp around town unfettered for 20 hours at a time, stretching nights to see the sunrise. For those folks, ourselves included, Japandroids were the perfect band to cap this year's festival, reminding us both how fun it is to bounce around a rock club, unintentionally spilling beer on nearby patrons, and how we're trying to stay young as long as we can. "I don't wanna worry about dying," Brian King sang on "Young Hearts Spark Fire." "I just wanna worry about those sunshine girls." One to grow on, indeed. A later line, during "The Boys Are Leaving Town," was more fitting for the drunks flailing about gleefully in front of the stage at Galaxy: "Will we find our way back home? I don't know." Everyone remembers what room they're in, right? -- PG

BEST CROWD INTERACTION: RHYMEFEST
"Hold up, hold up," the Chicago rapper said to stop his DJ. "For all the white people in the building, it goes, 'I got money, money I got,'" he instructed, clearly scolding the nerdy Frat dudes in the front row, singing the wrong lyrics to a cover of 50 Cent's "I Get Money," stiffly dancing in their stripped Abercrombie polos. Later, after a taste of the husky, thick raps from his May 18 release El Che with a rousing "Talk My Shit," Rhymefest dropped 2006's "Brand New," his collabo with Kanye, and took notice of a dude in the frontrow mouthing all 'Ye's lyrics. Rhymefest paused mid-song, instructed him to step onstage and rap Ye's verses. The youngster held his own, too. "I'm Dirty -- Eastside make some noise!" the newbie hollered to the crowd. "I didn't ask you to hype the crowd," Rhymefest responded. "Get off the fuckin' stage." -- WG

BEST DANCE PARTY: TANLINES
A venue called Paradise proved a fitting one for Brooklyn-based Tanlines, a duo of ex-Don Caballero bassist Eric Emm and ex-Professor Murder multi-instrumentalist Jesse Cohen: Their tropicalia-laced rhythms turned a mix of expectant badge-holders and random Austinites into a beach party. Jams like "Three Trees" and "Real Life" -- you can hear them on the band's MySpace -- were fleshed out into booming, room-shaking anthems, equally perfect listening for sharply dressed hipsters and one spazzy, Joe Pesci-esque local. In a week laced with dance acts with much larger hype, I wished I'd taken a peek at these Tanlines far sooner. -- PG

BEST KEYTAR JAMS: DAM-FUNK
Okay, R&B whizz Dam-Funk was very likely the only one jamming out with that squiggly-sounding symbol of '80s ridiculousness, but good lord did he make it funky. Airing tracks from his fantastic double album debut, Toeachizown, the L.A. slickster put on the most dance-inducing set I saw at SXSW. Backed by a drummer, keyboardist, and iBook, Dam laid down sleek electronic grooves that boogied like Rouger Troutman barreling down the freeway in a Delorean and which provided plenty of space for his strangely soulful keytar solos. Dam's a bad dude -- in a good way. --DM

BEST BAD ATTITUDE: TURBO FRUITS
Nashville trio the Turbo Fruits play three-chord garage rock that fizzes over with slaphappy drumming, cracked guitar leads, and simple, bluesy melodies. It's a sound that we've heard before, but the dropout sneer in Jonas Stein's voice as he sang about frying his brain and getting stoned (different things, evidently), and the band's revved engine roar gave what could have been a derivative set a wonderfully rebellious edge. A raucous cover of "Shakin' All Over" made me want to roll up my sleeves, show off the "Born to Lose" tattoo I never got, and smack the man in the mouth. -- DM

Turbo Fruits / Photo: Matt Kiser
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Yelawolf / Photo: Kyle Dean Reinford
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Thee Oh Sees / Photo: Matt Kiser
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BEST UNWARRANTED CRACK COVER: YELAWOLF AND BOB DYLAN
Southerner Yelawolf, a pro skateboarder-cum-rapper covered in tattoos and sporting a long Mohawk with a gold ghetto-blaster around his neck, is the weirdest new addition to hip-hop -- dude is a genre-fuck influenced by Eminem-esque murder ballads and Bone Thugs' super-speed style, plus Kid Rock, punk rock, and, evidently, Bob Dylan. On "Mixin' Up The Medicine," his collabo with Juelz Santana, he transformed a lyric to Dylan's "Subterranean Homesick Blues" -- "In the basement mixing up the medicine" -- into a cocaine anthem. -- WG

SECOND BEST UNWARRANTED CRACK COVER: GET BUSY COMMITTEE AND THE KNIFE
This Los Angeles trio -- rappers Apathy and Ryu, and producer Scoop DeVille -- kicked things off at Club DeVille (the irony!) by playing a video of an '80s D.A.R.E. commercial, featuring Peewee Herman warning about the dangers of crack cocaine, before dropping a sample of the Knife's "Heartbeats." Over the chest-rumbling, electro-pop beats, Apathy and Ryu dropped rhymes about -- what else? -- "cokeheads, buglars, and crack fiends." Which is surely exactly what the experimental Swede duo hoped for their dance floor gem. -- WG

BEST REASON RISK FROSTBITE: DUM DUM GIRLS
"We've got two more songs and then we risk hypothermia," said Kristen Gundred, a.k.a. lead Dum Dum girl "Dee Dee," before a packed patio at Spiderhouse coffeeshop. They're known to play with blank facial expressions, but the Californian goth beauty and her crew of dolled-up black leather-and-lace bandmates seemed particularly miserable in the 40 degree weather. Despite frozen fingers, their dark, distorted pop sounded sharp. Performing tracks from their Sub Pop debut I Will Be, the Dum Dum Girls blend Jesus and Mary Chain's goth fuzz with surf guitars and moody, vintage vocals. -- JP

WORST MISSED POTENTIAL: THE FRESH & ONLYS
Almost everything is in order for this San Francisco rock quartet: Their charmingly skuzzy garage rock sound is both weird, with noisy shoegaze guitars and psychedelic song structures, and classically indebted, with a Detroit proto-punk feel and surf rock and rockabilly flourishes. Guitarist Wymond Miles is the stand-out, playing the role in tattered black leather jacket and a bolo tie, shredding on his vintage Fender Jaguar on tracks off their latest release, Grey-Eyed Girls. Singer/guitarist/co-founder Tim Cohen's voice, while excellent on record, was indecipherable and muddy. He wasn't much to watch either: standing idle in a tattered t-shirt, with his big beard and long hair, his aesthetic didn't fit the band's shtick. WANTED: Charismatic singer with sex appeal and stage command. Just sayin'. -- WG

WORST BAND TO LISTEN TO WITHOUT EAR PLUGS: THEE OH SEES
San Francisco rock ragamuffins the Oh Sees put together a nicely ramshackle set of loopy freakbeat -- the sort of thing that I like to imagine one could've heard crashing out of windows on Haight Street in 1965 -- but I should've taken my mom's advice and brought ear plugs. The fuzz screaming from frontman John Dywer's 12-string guitar made me feel as if I should take my ear drums out for an apology dinner. Keyboardist-tambourine player Brigid Dawson appeared to be singing some harmonies as well. Can anyone out there confirm? --DM

WORST TIME TO LEAVE YOUR GLOWSTICK AT HOME: HOOD INTERNET
Chicago-based mixtape maestros Aaron Brink and Steve Reidell made rocking the dance floor look easy at Karma. Mash, plug and play — for the eighth time in 2½ days at SXSW. Whether you move to the music or play spot-that-song (was that really Lil Wayne and Royksopp? Julian Casablancas and Omarion? Dr. Dre and Class Actress?), the duo is undeniably fun. Now if those nerds could only make their laptops dance. -- KB

IN BRIEF:

Québécois shoegazers the Besnard Lakes are known for their mountainous, dramatic sound, but before their set Saturday at the Galaxy Room they soundchecked to "Louie Louie." -- KB

I got frozen out of seeing Nashville riff rock duo Jeff the Brotherhood because the club had reached capacity by the time I arrived. Bad for me, good sign for the band, which has a real charisma and gift for combining punkish energy with stoner stomping. -- DM

When Of Montreal's Jamey Huggins performed as his solo project James Husband at the Polyvinyl Records showcase, two other members of his day band, drummer Davey Pierce and keyboardist Dottie Alexander, played in his quintet, which covered the Bangles' "In Your Room." -- KB

Baltimore hip-hop duo Oh Snap! was fair to partly cringeworthy, but they have spawned funny T-shirts based on one of their songs: "I'm Too Fat to Be a Hipster." -- KB

When you're spending four days in Austin, Texas, seeing loads of ear-pounding rock'n'roll, it's always a pleasure to turn down the volume and see some truly remarkable artists play in quieter, stripped-down settings. That's what happened at the SPIN/MySpace Music Loft on 6th Street when Emily Haines and Jimmy Shaw from Metric stopped by to perform two songs for a lucky audience. Watch below!

Metric, who opened for Muse on Friday night at MySpace's special event at Stubb's BBQ and also popped up onstage with Broken Social Scene Thursday night, played two songs off 2009's Fantasies: "Help, I'm Alive" and "Gimme Sympathy," a song they world-premiered, also in an acoustic version, at SPIN's Coachella house in 2008.

Check out the video here, and catch Metric on select tour dates this Spring in the U.S., Canada, and Europe.

BEST. PERIOD: NEON INDIAN
Backed by a rubbery live band, Neon Indian mastermind Alan Palomo played a set of rinky-dink synth pop that built a pastel pleasuredome out of squiggly synth lines, chintzy keyboard, brittle guitar, and a charmingly stiff beat. Songs like the aptly-titled "Terminally Chill" give off a sense of woozy childlike glee, as if they were composed by a nerdy nine-year old who loves 1999-era Prince, doing the robot, and the occasional acid trip. -- DAVID MARCHESE

BEST THROWBACK: DEMOLISHED THOUGHTS
If the band names Gang Green and SS Decontrol mean anything to you, you likely would have gotten a kick (in the head) out of this apparently ad hoc supergroup of sorts, featuring lead screamer Thurston Moore, guitarists J Mascis and Don Fleming, and a Fucked Up guitarist on bass. Perversely, their singular focus was on covering now-obscure early '80s hardcore, with Moore -- who still looks like a gawky 19-year-old -- reciting the lyrics from a cheat sheet before shouting them when the band butted in. Inspiring a swirling pit and frantic stage dives, it was a great reminder of the sweaty hardcore matinees of my youth and no doubt thrilled a certain record-collector mindset. In fact, before the set Fucked Up frontman Pink Eye proudly showed me the 13-inch -- yes 13-inch -- vinyl he had just picked up from Jack White's pop-up store. This show must have sent him to heaven. -- DOUG BROD

Uffie / Photo: Matt Kiser
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BEST FREAK NASTY REPLACEMENT FOR KE$HA: UFFIE
Pop problem child Ke$ha's stories of hard partying, Hollywood boys, and brushing her teeth with a bottle of Jack not freak nasty enough? Meet Parisian rapper Uffie, signed to Ed Banger Records, the same label home of Justice -- and one of Blink-182 bassist Mark Hoppus' fave new artists. She's a self-described "bad ass bitch" and at Mohawk she played the role, strutting onstage in her short blonde bob and revealing black lace top, dropping XXX-rated rhymes on "Pop a Glock" -- "When I rock the party, you bust a nut." On "Brand New Car," which, like all her songs, features electro beats and deep bass, like a harder version of Ke$ha's "Tik Tok," she admitted her love of shoes -- and aspirations of pop chart domination. Uffie's not there just yet; she's still a bit unpolished. But look out -- with the proper producer, her club-kid shtick could be transformed into pop gold. -- WILLIAM GOODMAN

BEST STATESIDE DEBUT: CHATMONCHY
Chatmonchy are three bubbly Japanese girls who play crunching, hook-filled power-pop that sounds like Weezer rendered in anime. For all I know the band's lyrics are about herpetology and needlepoint, but the trio, which made its American debut on Friday night, played with such infectious enthusiasm and its songs, especially the fizzy "Daidai," are such ingeniously constructed marvels of tension and release that the language barrier easily came crashing down. If Chatmonchy aren't already big in Japan, they should be. Here too -- and everywhere else. -- DM

BEST BUZZ BAND: BEST COAST
When L.A. lo-fi surf trio Best Coast closed out Gorilla Vs. Bear's day party at Klub Krucial, the venue hit capacity and a line trailed down 6th Street -- for good reason. Though frontwoman Bethany Consentino and her two long-haired male bandmates may look like California uber-hippies onstage -- and song titles like "Sun Was High (So Was I)" fuel that assumption -- their fuzzy hooks and 1950s-inspired pop have become the epitome of blog cool since 2009. Named one of SPIN's Must-Hear SXSW acts, Best Coast's solid live performance -- less fuzzy than their reverb-y recordings -- proves they deserve the buzz, which should only grow as they near the release of their debut record later this year. -- JENN PELLY

WORST BUZZ BAND: MEMORY TAPES
Sometimes hype is more than slightly overblown. Case in point: New Jersey's Memory Tapes, the dreamy, dance-y electro project of 28-year-old guitarist/vocalist/programmer Dayve Hawk (who has also recorded as Memory Cassette and Weird Tapes). Like a bubblier Helio Sequence with loops of wistful organ synths, lo-fi digi beats, and a headphones-sporting live drummer adding rhythmic umph, Hawk sang lyrics of heartbreak and despair on tracks like "Green Knight," off his 2009 release Seek Magic: "I want to give you my love / I want to call your name." The sound is part of a new genre called glo-fi or chillwave, the best of which is SPIN's Big in 2010 pick Neon Indian. Live, the smooth, opiate-dream sound is more disjointed -- and Hawk's watery, androgynous vocals sound gruff and choppy. Memory Tapes album isn't bad, but in a live setting its better qualities are compromised. -- WG

BEST SINGALONG: THEOPHILUS LONDON
There were other samples in his totally dance-tastic set that you'd recognize, but when this Brooklyn beatmaster dropped Whitney Houston's glass-shattering Bodyguard soundtrack jam "I Will Always Love You," droves of hipsters at Club de Ville shed any remaining stoicism and sang along. Loudly. As the beats returned, we wondered aloud whether Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" could be used similarly. The answer: a resounding "no." -- PETER GASTON

BEST ALTERNATIVE TO M.I.A.: MALUCA
If M.I.A. were a sassy Latin mami, her globe-trotting hip-hop sound rooted in spicy dancehall instead of electro Bollywood, she'd be 28-year-old Maluca (a.k.a. Natalie Yepez). Raised in New York's Dominican community, Maluca mashes hard-hitting, lo-fi drum machine beats with mambo flourishes and the distress-call horns, deep bass, and fast sing-raps of Spanish youth music. The M.I.A. comparisons are more than sonic: Diplo, M.I.A.'s onetime producer/DJ, discovered Maluca as she sang karaoke and helped launch her career, signing her to his to Mad Decent label. She was initially hesitant to perform due to intense stage fright -- but that's now clearly gone. With two dancers at her side, Maluca jived and moved in black tights, a black ballcap, and a gold robe, opening it occasionally to flaunt her sexy curves. -- WG

BEST SONIC AIR-CONDITIONING: REAL ESTATE
6th Street's Klub Krucial has a serious heat problem -- it's a friggin' Texas sweatbox. But luckily Ridgewood, New Jersey's psychedelic surf-pop quartet Real Estate had a solution: reverb-drenched guitar jangles and lyrics about breezy summers in suburbia, with plenty of references to beaches, lakes, and pools courtesy of frontman Martin Courtney. Their sound is pretty and freeform -- think the meandering guitars of Built to Spill but with a fixation for good vibes. The boys looked a little tired, but they charged on with songs off their self-titled debut, their best -- "Beach Comber" and "Suburban Beverage" -- exploding in a cool tangle of guitars and bass. Like ice water to the face. -- WG

Real Estate / Photo: Matt Kiser
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Admiral Radley / Photo: Kevin Bronson
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BEST ANGEL FLYING TOO CLOSE TO THE GROUND: HOLLY MIRANDA
There's something spooky beautiful about spending Friday night in a darkened church, especially if Holly Miranda's implausibly angelic voice is reverberating up to the 60-foot cathedral ceiling and back down to the stiff-backed pews where you sit in wonder and SXSW exhaustion. During her Central Presbyterian Church set, the Brooklyn transplant's tunes about gay marriage and troubled relationships often relied on the start-stop dynamic of her smoky voice, a capella or backed by a single guitar, suddenly punctuated by the Sonic Youth-like clatter of her backing band. It's a pleasing combination; it shakes the cobwebs out of the traditional singer-songwriter formula. But in the end, it was Miranda's vocals – notable for their searching, ascetic purity – that elevated the night and turned the rapt audience into a congregation of believers. -- MARK BAUTZ

BEST CHOICE OF VENUE: THE XX
The Central Presbyterian Church also provided emerging Brit trio the xx with a perfect setting for their austere music. In the huge but hushed cathedral, the subtle interplay between guitar, bass, and processed sounds echoed fully – as did Romy Madley's Bjork-like whisper. The group's motionless disregard for performing, which can be a drawback in a noisy club, suddenly seemed like a moral virtue. Their songs hold mysteries that were deepened by the solemn space -- and absorbing them felt like SXSW's version of accepting grace. -- MB

BEST NON-COMEBACK: RA RA RIOT
With their second album due later this year, we expected Ra Ra Riot to pull the tarps off some brand new songs during their set at the Green Label Sound showcase. But with the crowd well lubricated after a genre-defying, body movin' set from Theophilus London, the clock approaching 1 A.M., and the alcohol flowing copiously, the Syracuse sextet -- playing their fourth consecutive SXSW -- blazed through airtight versions of songs from their 2008 debut, The Rhumb Line. And while they did play two new songs, frontman Wes Miles didn't even acknowledge them, instead feeding off the frenzied enthusiasm that surged when his band powered through their catchiest song, "Dying Is Fine." -- PG

BEST MARRIANGE OF TWO DUDES FROM MODESTO: ADMIRAL RADLEY:
They're longtime friends from the same hometown who sport respected indie resumes. And now Jason Lytle and Aaron Espinoza are collaborating in Admiral Radley, which includes Lytle's ex-Grandaddy drummer Aaron Burtch and Espinoza's bandmate in Earlimart, Ariana Murray. If Friday's uneven set at the Galaxy Room was any indication, Ad Rad's (yes, they already have a nickname) forthcoming album will satiate fans in both camps — finely honed, intricately layered songs with loopy effects, whimsical themes ("I [Heart] California") and, satisfyingly, the verve of two old buds just having a good time. -- KEVIN BRONSON.

BEST BACKPEDALING: INTERNATIONAL HIP-HOP SHOWCASE
The beauty of SXSW is stumbling upon a new artist as you peruse the chaos, drawn in by a snippet of music wafting out to the sidewalk. My quirkiest discovery yet: the International Hip-Hop showcase, presented by Nomadic Wax. Swede rap duo Timbuktu & Chords dropped rhymes in both English and their native tongue over an international pu pu platter of laptop-generated beats -- reggae dub, African drums, and funky smooth soul. Luckily, two messages seem to translate worldwide: dancing and drugs. "Shake your little asses," the tall, blonde Chords instructed, before diving into another old school track with a simple instruction: "Get high, high, high, high, high, high, high, high, high. -- WG

BEST UNEXPECTED COLLEGE HOUSE PARTY: SHELLSHAG
Tack more grit to Liz Phair's 1994 indie rock debut and you've got Brooklyn's Shellshag, a guitar/drum duo who show their love for all things punk and grunge with their recent album Rumors in Disguise. At midnight a crowd of 50 packed into a messy kitchen at a University of Texas student party, where guitarist Johnny Shell and drummer Jen Shag tore through a raucous set. Shag attached bells and shakers to a her sequined belt and clunky combat boots for additional percussion, and more came from the crowd, who hit her drum while hollering along to Rumors gem "Resilient Bastard." -- JP

BEST BAND VAGUELY CONNECTED TO J. MASCIS: HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Sub Pop newbies Happy Birthday have a spunk that set them apart from other lo-fi noise poppers -- and it only takes one listen of the Vermont trio's mega-catchy, cleverly harmonized song "Girls FM" to get it. Playing an 8:30 P.M. outdoor set at Cheer Up Charlie's parking lot-turned-performance-space, they sped through 30 minutes of tunes from their recent self-titled debut -- upbeat pop with unusual guitar tunings, group vocals, and psychedelic touches. Warm, intricate guitar work came courtesy of frontman Kyle Thomas, who also rocks alongside Dinosaur Jr.'s J. Mascis in the stoner metal four-piece Witch. -- JP

IN BRIEF:

Whoever was DJ-ing at the Friendly Fire showcase at Club de Ville was on fire Friday night. At one point, I said to the friend I was with, "Neon Indian sounds amazing." My friend gently explained that the band wasn't on yet. Both Neon Indian and the DJ should take that as a compliment. -- DM

Entourage star -- and Honey Brothers drummer -- Adrian Grenier dined with a posse of pals in the private patio dining area Moonshine, getting properly pre-gamed for a night of rock'n'roll. -- PG

There's no lack of dedication to Keeping Austin Weird. One transient sipping a paper-bagged beer belted a craggy version of the Beatles' "Lady Madonna," and later joined a dance act on 6th Street, attempting -- and failing -- to execute their dexterous moves. She gets an "A" for effort. – WG

Fresh from guesting with Stone Temple Pilots the night before, former Doors guitarist Robbie Krieger caught the action at Muse's sold-out Stubb's show. -- DM

Whatever Fall Out Boy frontman Patrick Stump's been cooking up for his debut solo album needs a bit more time in the oven. In an awkward 20-minute set last night at South by Southwest in Austin, Texas, Stump took the stage completely by himself, armed with an array of live loops, pre-recorded tracks, and a variety of instruments -- none of which could hide the fact that his new material isn't yet ready for mass consumption.

"I'm karaoke-ing songs that haven't been recorded yet," Stump admitted to the crowd at the Crush Management showcase at Dirty Dog Bar. But in karaoke, people sing over songs that are finished -- and these don't seem to be.

Travis McCoy / Photo by Kathryn Yu
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New Politics / Photo by Kathryn Yu
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Stump first tried to re-create the one-man band video he released to the web in January, a song called "As Long As I'm Getting Paid," in which he plays each instrument in the song, one at a time, then loops his performances together into one funky jam. But the drum beats he played were messy, his guitar sound came out crackly and out of whack, and his keyboard flourishes provided little stability. Basically, it was close to a trainwreck.

It wasn't all so bad. On the next song, Stump thankfully scaled things back, just singing and playing guitar over a prerecorded track, and appeared far more comfortable, his powerful voice belting out a moving chorus. "This is my confession," he sang over a bare-bones arrangement that was equal parts R&B slickness and sexy swagger. Ideally, Stump should have remained in this zone all night, curbing what seemed like a rather urgent desire to prove his multi-instrumental mettle.

Clearly, the most successful element of Stump's set was his new look: He's ditched the hoodies and trucker hats for a sharp blazer and black t-shirt -- projecting a more serious vibe, for sure. He's also shed a significant amount of weight, so much so that many in the room didn't recognize him at all when he first appeared on stage.

Hopefully, we won't recognize these new songs, either, the next time Stump decides to present them to a live audience. The basic elements appear in place -- a funk foundation, a little bit of disco-inflected guitar, Stump going R&B-style, vocally, like he did on Gym Class Heroes' "Girlfriend" -- but they clearly need some further attention to match Stump's own physical leanness and meanness.

Newly renamed solo artist Travie McCoy, meanwhile, is much closer to sorted for his own debut, Lazarus, which is actually done, and set for a June 8 release. Playing earlier in the night and backed by his Gym Class Heroes bandmate Matt McGinley on drums, McCoy was confident and spot on, even though his DJ missed a flight and couldn't make the gig.

"Dr. Feelgood," which features Cee-Lo on the album version, was the night's most polished cut, a funky number that instantly conjured thoughts of soul band Hall & Oates, whom McCoy unabashedly adores, and whose names are tattooed on his arm. But "Superbad" was totally stunning, with thick, brooding, bass-heavy verses that unfolded into a head-banger of a chorus -- think Linkin Park, but in the best way possible. "Billionaire," which was released as a single earlier this month, also impressed.

In between these two bigger names came the New Politics, a Danish trio with abundant energy -- and a genre-bending approach where anything and everything is fair game for inclusion in a song. On "Dignity," guitarist-singer Søren H played a thinly veiled ripoff of the Pixies' "Where Is My Mind," then hollered all punk rock style over it, sounding like Ted Leo covering an AFI song. Søren's rock chops are counterbalanced by David Boyd's goofball rap-sung vocals, through which he recalls skate-punk era Beastie Boys -- and that dude from EMF. You know, "You're unbelievable."

Later, the trio stormed through their single "Yeah Yeah Yeah," and even when bookended by the solid, radio-ready songs from Travie and the stumbling debut from Patrick Stump, its instantly hummable hook was the night's most lasting take-away.

BEST WARM AND FUZZY FEELINGS: BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE
"Good luck, America," BSS frontman Kevin Drew told a late-night crowd at Stubb's, "I believe in you through all this shit, I really do." Tell you what, Mr. Drew, with an attitude like that -- and songs like your sextet played -- SXSW believes in you, too. On Thursday night, the Canadian collective gave a giddy crowd a taste of the songs from their forthcoming Forgiveness Rock Record, due May 4, and a few big gulps of all-around optimism. A cameo four-piece horn section beefed up one sprawling jam, and Metric's Emily Haines guested on the lovely "Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl." -- KEVIN BRONSON

BEST GET UR FREAK ON: ESTELLE
The saucy U.K. vet sure knows how to throw a wicked nasty dance party. Between rapping about motherf**ckin' cheating boyfriends, grinding against a hunky dude from the audience, giving her female fans tips on straying without getting caught, and repeatedly warning everyone to get their hands up in the air cuz she's watching (and she was), Estelle also managed to sing a breathtaking soul version of Smokey Robinson's "Get Ready," do a call-and-response take on her hit "American Boy," cover Coldplay, and bring Gym Class Heroes leader Travis McCoy onstage to rap. Whew! Girl packs a lot into 45 slim minutes. -- MARK BAUTZ

Emily Haines / Photo: Matt Kiser
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Nicole Atkins / Photo: Kyle Dean Reinford
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BEST FLANNEL-CLAD CROWD-PLEASERS: BAND OF HORSES
From the moment Ben Bridwell and bandmates hit the first notes of the echoing, hypnotic "Is There a Ghost," the South Carolina stars had the capacity crowd at Stubb's in the pocket of their flannel shirts. Even between songs Bridwell was nothing less than buoyant, joking of his trip to Austin, "They gotta start abbreviating South by Southwest to just By Southwest." Meanwhile, the band's 45 minutes of lightly psychedelic Southern-fried roots-rock -- highlighted by a grand singalong on "The Great Salt Lake" -- included three songs from their forthcoming album Infinite Arms, out May 18, including a scorching finisher filled out with some rapturous guitar solos. -- KB

BEST FEMME FATALE: NICOLE ATKINS
Currently working on the full-length follow-up to 2007's Neptune City, Nicole Atkins' sexy early evening set at La Zona Rosa had me checking for the album's release date (there isn't one yet -- dammit) as tough and twangy tearjerkers like the new "Civil War" mixed moody keyb-and-guitar interplay with dusky vocals. Every lovesick song Atkins sang (with a special nod to the languidly rocking, cheekily titled "Oh Canada") made it sound as if she'd spent roughly equal time breaking hearts and being burned. The noirish music almost made me want to go order a Scotch on the rocks and call an old girlfriend just to tell her a lie about love. Almost. -- DAVID MARCHESE

BEST NOT SO VULGAR DISPLAY OF POWER: MIDLAKE
The Courage of Others, the most recent album from Denton, Texas' Midlake, is a cryptic collection of songs that sound as if designed to accompany druids dancing the quadrille -- it's also a bit of a slog. But live, when the drums hit heavy, the guitars crackle, and the bass rattles in your chest, the eight-piece band becomes an altogether woollier and more impressive beast. (And they still hit all their intricate, spooky harmonies with uncanny accuracy.) Midlake would absolutely kill at Stonehenge. Someone make it happen. -- DM

BEST BID AT THE BIG TIME: POMEGRANATES
Few feelings are as awesome as seeing a band you like live for the first time, and leaving liking 'em even more. Such was the case with this Cincinnati, OH, quartet, who've refined their sound since first popping on SPIN's radar in 2008. They've added a glossy polish to their art-pop and punk with reverb-y, anthemic yet meandering guitar lines that'd raise the eyebrows of both Modest Mouse's Isaac Brock and Coldplay's Chris Martin. On their set-closer, "Cakin," a demo for their next album, thrift store boys Joey Cook and Isaac Karns -- who split guitar and keyboard duties -- traded vocals, Cook's a low mutter and Karns' a high-pitched squawk, and created the kind of electrifying melodic charge that might be enough to push this band out of obscurity. -- WILLIAM GOODMAN

BEST DRESSED: A CLASSIC EDUCATON
While these Italians don't hail from the boutique-clogged streets of Milan, they certainly know how to fill out a suit. Jammed into the front window of 6th Street gin mill Friends, the sextet looked far classier than the club's regular clientele -- flat-screen TVs on the walls cycled through photos of buxom beauties in low-cut tops -- and had chops to match. The tightly wound, mandolin-led "What My Life Could Have Been" closed the set with panache, a spazzy college rock romp (think SXSW 2009 breakout band Pains of Being Pure at Heart) adorned with Old World orchestral touches. -- PETER GASTON 

BEST UNDERCARD DISCOVERY: RADAR BROS.
SXSW so often seems about foaming at the mouth over the next big thing that the subtleties of an artist's career arc can get swallowed faster than a dollar shot. It'd be optimistic to think that many among the She & Him faithful at the Merge Records showcase had more than a passing knowledge of Radar Bros., the L.A. quintet whose sixth album, The Illustrated Garden, comes out next week. At 42, songwriter Jim Putnam, now surrounded by a young new cast of bandmates, may look like your eccentric uncle, but he crafts pop songs with the childlike wonderment of someone half his age. It took some doing, but his captive audience was eventually similarly smitten. -- KB

BEST OUT OF THE SHADOWS SET: THE CANDLES
Josh Lattanzi has done well for himself as a sideman, acting as hotshot guitarist for folks like the Lemonheads, Ben Kweller, and Albert Hammond Jr. But if his sparkling, carefully laidback performance fronting New York City folk-rockers the Candles was any indication, he might do even better in the spotlight. Singing sweet melodies in three-part harmony over ambling rhythms and laconic guitar, Lattanzi and his band crafted a sound heavily indebted to the golden charms of '70s singer-songwriters like James Taylor and Harvest-era Neil Young. It's a vibe we've heard resurrected before, but when executed with Lattanzi's emotional precision and sure sense of craft it still holds the power to be as moving as watching the sun set over Topanga Canyon. -- DM

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BEST ROCK'N'ROLL REVIVAL: THE JIM JONES REVUE
These high energy Londoners put on a show that's one part history of rock from Little Richard to the Ramones and one part fire-and-brimstone sermon. They are so tight and loud, so insistent on their retro sound, and so sharp in their dandy outfits, that it almost reads like parody. Which it is -- I think. Frontman Jim Jones mugs for the crowd, gets down on his knees and wails, then pushes to the edge of the stage as if possessed. Luckily, his evangelism has found a faithful flock. Even Patti Smith's guitarist Lenny Kaye, watching from the tiny club's bar, seemed transported. -- MB

BEST RETURNING INDIE VETS: QUASI
It's not every day a group of indie rock's most lauded vets play a dusty parking lot for free, which made Quasi's slot at the Kill Rock Stars showcase even more awesome. Formed in '93, members of the Portland, Oregon, trio are friends and ex-bandmates of Elliot Smith and have played in Heatmister, Sleater-Kinney, and Stephen Malkmus's the Jicks. They brought their melodic, high energy guitar rock -- including "Repulsion" and others from their eighth album American Gong, out last month -- to Cheer Up Charlie's, SXSWs 6th Street DIY home base. A mix of middle-aged hipsters and underage faces rocked out in bliss. -- JENN PELLY

BEST BREVITY: PEASANT
For many bands, SXSW is a test of logistical efficiency: Can they set up, quickly line check, and play a quality set within the space of a slim timeslot? For Pennsylvania-based solo performer Peasant, a.k.a. Damien DeRose, who performs simply with his tearjerking soprano and an acoustic guitar, there was no hurry whatsoever. "Do I have time for two more songs?" he asked the sound man. "You've got 30 more minutes," the sound man replied. DeRose considered the situation for a moment, then addressed the crowd: "No, it's okay. Just two more. It's what I planned for." And that was just fine. He cooed a stirring, heart-melting song called "We're Good," and proved that quality triumphs over quantity, even at SXSW. -- PG

NOT BEST, NOT WORST -- MOST MIDDLE-OF-THE-ROAD SET: THE MOONDOGGIES
This Seattle roots-rock quartet ride the line between loping Southern and the Fleet Foxes' nouveau, harmony-rich folk. Unfortunately, they also blur another boundary: the one between bland and boring and comfy and familiar. Their gritty guitar lines, straight drum beats, and gothic electric Rhodes piano parts would be great background music for a camping trip but there's absolutely nothing exceptional about them. They don't demand anything of the listener and, in turn, get nothing in return. At least not from me. -- WG

BEST USE OF NON-HUMAN BANDMATES: DAN BLACK
The London-bred, Paris-based electropop artist Dan Black is making waves by having broken through to rock radio with his single "Symphonies," which appropriates Jack Nitzsche's sweeping theme to the 1984 movie "Starman." At the SXSW Throwdown day party, Black delivered something in the way of a disco afternoon, performing with a bassist, guitarist, and a pair of glowing touchscreens he uses to control his samplers. Not only do the controllers look sci-fi cool, they make for great bandmates. "I never have to worry about them bringing groupies to the back of the bus," admitted Black from the stage. -- KB

BEST HIDDEN SHOW:
Take Chelsea Girl-era Nico and inject equal doses of Bjork's oddball energy and late downtown New York icon Arthur Russell's experimental pop and you get Brooklyn quintet Twin Sister -- tiny, tattoo-covered frontgirl Andrea Estella, whose dreamy pipes lead four dudes jamming on guitars, bass, and keys. Their hazy, alluring "I Want A House" -- a recent blogosphere hit -- sounded particularly appropriate at a sunny (and unofficial SXSW) set in the yard of an East Austin house; the fuzzy ode to domesticity offered a reprieve from the chaos on 6th street, while doubling as a testament to the show's home-y locale. -- JP

BEST AFTER HOUSE SHOW: THEE OH SEES' BRIDGE GIG
Despite a steady stream of Tweeted "secret show" confirmations and cancellations, around 100 hopeful fans headed to the Lamar Boulevard Bridge at 2:30 A.M. for a mind-blowingly high energy set from San Francisco outfit Thee Oh Sees. Fans huddled around the band, crowd-surfing and thrashing, shaking the bridge as the three-piece blew through their frenetic repertoire of garage rock and noise pop. The backdrop to the late-night spectacle -- which also included a set from New Jersey garage punks Home Blitz -- was the glowing downtown Austin skyline. Bliss. -- JP

Avi Buffalo / Photo: Kathryn Yu
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The xx / Photo: Kathryn Yu
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She & Him / Photo: Misha Vladimirskiy
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BEST WUNDERKIND GUITARIST: AVI BUFFALO
His name is Avigdor Zahner-Isenberg, and at 19 he plays as if he's been struck by a lightning bolt launched by a great unknown blues guitarist from decades past. Three-quarters of his Long Beach, Calif., quartet Avi Buffalo are still teenagers, but they were snapped up last year by Sub Pop, which will release their self-titled debut on April 27. At two shows on Thursday, Zahner-Isenberg wielded his falsetto and his axe to fantastic effect -- tender and painterly one minute and fast and furious the next, like on the hurricane that closes "Remember Last Time." -- KB

BEST SPAZZOUTS: CYMBALS EAT GUITARS
It's quite possible that Cymbals Eat Guitars frontman Joseph D'Agostino will someday write the hyper-emotional pitching-and-yawing spastic indie guitar jam that renders all others unnecessary. There's enough power in the feedbacking crescendos and coarsely charming melodies of songs like ". . . And the Hazy Sea" to make one hopeful, anyway. Right now, as the band's sometimes thrilling, sometimes painful set showed, the Staten Islanders spend the softer parts of their songs like they're bracing for a punch. When they learn better how to disguise the ones they're about to throw -- watch out. -- DM

WORST SENSE OF THE MOMENT: THE xx
The hipster nation's favorite lowercase minimalists (sorry, jj) might as well be wax figures onstage. Their purposefully undercooked hybrid of electro, pop, and soul relies on slow-building grooves and sparse beats, demanding that the listener fill in the blanks -- which meant that the Londoners' post-midnight set asked a lot of the audience at the Mohawk. Were the natives getting restless? Possibly. Would a light show have helped? Probably. Did I want to shout "giddyup?" You bet. -- KB

WORST CROWD: THE BLABBERMOUTHS AT THE OLOF ARNALDS SHOW
A bunch of folks sat cross-legged on the floor in silent wonder while listening to Iceland's Olof Arnalds play a hushed set of gorgeous folk in the opulent Victorian Room at the Driskill Hotel. But given that Arnalds, accompanied by the gentle sounds of her own warm fingerpicking and that of a second guitarist, sings like she's telling secrets, the few dozen people who stood by the bar yakking about "hydration" were loud enough to spoil the vibe. Annoying ambience aside, Arnalds delivered a subtly stirring set, her high, pure voice unwrapping gnomic melodies over drifting acoustic settings. -- DM

WORST ON-STAGE ENERGY: SHE & HIM
"Is this our old setlist?" Zooey Deschanel asked collaborator M. Ward near the end of She & Him's gig at the Merge Records showcase at the Cedar Street Courtyard. That was one of several discomfiting moments in a performance that could only be described as rote, despite a crack band that included the luminescent Chapin Sisters on backup vocals. Photographer control seemed to be a distracting concern (the band requested no photos be taken -- fat chance). It ultimately didn't matter, as the duo's lackadaisical folk-pop provided no Polaroid moments. -- KB

IN BRIEF:
Twitter was in a titter over news that Bill Murray was in town, as starstruck SXSWers traded sightings of the sad-eyed comedian. -- D.M.

Early arrivals rewarded: The special guest from "ShutUp, AK," billed in the early slot at the Merge Records showcase at Cedar Street Courtyard was none other than Superchunk, who did a rousing 20 minutes. -- KB

Even if you're a journo, it's easy to get caught up in the SXSW spirit. After Miles Kurosky asked for volunteers from the crowd to join him onstage to help sing a Beulah song, Jeff Miller, the editor of Thrillist Los Angeles, found himself onstage providing vocals on "Popular Mechanics." -- KB

U.K. quartet Banjo Or Freakout has to the band most unlike its name; there's no banjoing in its fuzzy, ambient pop, and not a lot of freaking out either. -- K.B.

Maybe he was calling mom or reconciling with his former Panic! at the Disco bandmates, but Young Veins ringleader Ryan Ross sat on a 6th street curb in his Beatle boots, drainpipe jeans, and white Oxford button up, surrounded by drunkards, jabbering on his cell and sending texts for well over an hour. -- WG 

T-shirt of the day: "Kiss Me. No, really." -- KB