This year’s South By Southwest had its fair share of glaring issues, as does everything that happens — ever. Some of the more pressing matters concerned fan safety, the evermore-exclusionary atmosphere and the oversaturation of big ass businesses. But please, save the commentary on Austin’s increasing corporatization for a more pretentious article. There is a more minute, but infinitely frustrating problem that has been making its presence known at every live music event, be it at Red 7 or Austin Music Hall.
Call me obsessed, but the second thing I do every morning (after cursing my alarm to Hell) is lunge for my phone to check my text messages. In the sincerest act of vanity, I nearly set fire to my screen as my thumb races to and fro, checking with the utmost diligence to make sure I didn’t miss any action. But on Monday morning, I stumbled upon a message from my best friend, sent at 3:25 a.m., that stopped me dead in my tracks: “The singer of GWAR died :(”
