My band is not going to SXSW this year; no beer-glazed Torche matinees for me, no super-secret sets by this young up-and-comer. So I'm going through the diaries I kept the two years I have participated in the shitshow. The first one goes back six years, when a rock band I was in trekked endlessly from our motel to 6th Street, debated whether to see Goldfrapp or Blowfly,...

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