Rusted Shutisn’t a band, it’s one man’s long distorted fever dream. The band (which began in the 80’s with Don Walsh, Sibyl Chance, and Matt Sergeant) played shows that seemed to piss off everybody. Don would actively harass everyone he would encounter and at one time they were banned from all music venues in Houston. The music – distorted two note ragas of noise that acted as a backdrop for Walsh’s guttural vocals – seemed less like music and more like an assault. Then, Sibyl up and left and Don suddenly seemed like a ghost yet the band continued with its relentless death march. I sought to try to interview Don about his band but weeks of coordination failed. Finally, pushed up against a deadline, I gave a now or never ultimatum. So, there I was outside NOTSUOH with my gear – tired, cold, and sick – waiting for Don. Half an hour later, I left. Then Don called asking where I was. “I’m heading home, Don! I’ve been waiting for half an hour. It’s late, I’m tired, and I’m miserable.” Then, over the course of the night, like some ghostly apparition in a Dickens novel, Don proceeds to leave rambling messages where he sings songs, recites poetry, spouts the band’s history, curses Rice’s sale of KTRU, and circled the wagons of death and despair.

“So we’re gonna do this thing from Dean’s bathroom. I’m standing in my little island of hell…I call it Rusted Shut hell. There is urine and piss and weird toilet paper and nobody knows how to flush. There is so much urine on the floor right now that it’s sick.” (click)

“I went ahead and bought a car. I’m so fucked up…check it out man!!! I swear to god the car says ‘Kill.’ I swear to god the horn says ‘Kill, Kill, Kill Me.’ Listen!” (click)

“I do have a friend in my house…it’s called Satan. Satan! Satan! Satan! Sometimes I question how I get home…Satan! Satan! Satan! I’m sitting outside my house and each key in my pocket says six six six! That’s what it takes to get in my house – you need three keys that say six six six! Keys that look like sixes…keys shaped like sixes to get in my house.” (click)

(singing) “Ahhhhm not alive / Play me to death/ Lathes, pillars, and stakes/ the line of gods/ nonexistence poisoning the soul / death is real / in the dark offices of some burning disease / the marshes and prices / skeletons and brains / sickness inside/ waiting to die / here lies the path of downfall and lies / oh sweet life when does it end / the years of days in the fate of my remains / ravaged by these savages / destroyed by fire / your funeral pyre for my friends / who have all disappeared.” (click)

“The History of Rusted Shut… the history, the history. Started in 1987? With Sibyl and Matt… then we started doing No Rock Gods… the history, the history. I wasn’t sure where Rusted Shut went after but 1997…we played the street festival. Domokos kicked the living shit out of my fucking air conditioning unit. He says to me “Don, 666!” And I say “What the hell is this, Sibyl?” Next day we play the oven. Godflesh the whole night! Domokos showed up and says “It’s me!” The next day I say, “Holy shit, Sibyl!” …the history, the history. A week later I asked Kyle from Dry Nod if he wanted to join …we have tapes galore… sheesh there is a lot of history in that stuff… the history, the history.

“Basically everything ended when Sibyl left me – my house burned down, I didn’t want to play music, I didn’t want to sing… the history, the history. 2024 I just wanted to die. Want to thank all my friends who made sure I didn’t die. I could have died. I should have died….then Domokos asked if Shawn Kelly from Sad Pygmy could play bass…and we played a couple of years and ummm the history, the history. A history of not being arrested and fucking up in life…of getting lost in life and really feeling gone… I wrote a song called “Sitting Up Amongst The Dead Tree.” If anyone hears it, it’s probably the worst song I ever heard. It doesn’t get any lower than that…the history, the history. Nobody’s left, everybody just left. Then Domokos again “Hey man, Richie can play bass…” and I taught him how to play some songs… Adam Ferguson (unintelligible) and Domokos that is the history… you know what? Anybody out there help me, I’m insane.” (click)

“You know what’s really worse? Can’t get to sleep, I turn on the radio and I listen to the sports channel on AM. I kick over to KTRU and this girl says, ‘You’re listening to 91.7, the classical.’ That pretty much ends my life right there! I’m not kidding. It’s time to burn Rice down, time to revolt, time to topple the chief, fucking show them we’re in fucking TEXAS! Taking a Rice university station and throwing it to the weeds…into the dumpster? That’s crap! I don’t even flip it over to FM…unless they’re playing Led Zeppelin.” (click)

“I see greatness after I die. The hoards of hell queuing lining up to the place where I’ve been buried, buried, buried. New LP release – Dead in the Water – only 800 on vinyl LP…I hear sounds late at night inside the walls. I’m getting the fuck out of here. My band destroys.” (click)

“I just want to thank … Kurt from Sound Exchange, Joe Ortiz, Butthole Surfers, my records… If you can find any of my fucking goddamn records, listen to them. What the hell?!!! Fuck!!! I’m not promoting my crap! I’m done! My life is over peoples – it straight-up is….I just want to say anyone who is playing music under the age of 30 get the fuck off the stage you suck!” (click)

Corrections June 02,2011: The original article erroneously misspelled Sibyl Chance’s name.  We apologize for the error.

King Kahn and the Shrines

First up was King Kahn and The Shrines at Waterloo Park. Now I don’t know how but somehow from our Motel to the park it went from chilly and cool to hot as hell. But no matter, we got there just in time for King Kahn to be introduced and watched from the back only to realize very quickly that this was better experienced up front. So we made our way to the front and sure enough the experience was night and day. Instead of distant and pleasant the band ripped up with a Otis Redding inspired craziness. Fun stuff to be sure and aces moves from the guy in the bari sax but in the end I think everyone agreed that the club is the better place to experience this kind of band. Big stages like this just never do the trick.

Rusted Shut

We’d planned on seeing Explosions In the Sky but that was sidetracked along the way. I also missed Tara Jane O’Neil so, like many things, at SXSW you take what you can and don’t sweat what you missed. But after a lot of hanging around in Austin, we finally got back on course with Rusted Shut and holy shit the motherfuckers delivered. Kill Kill Kill hell yes! My chimp brain needed some ass whoopin’ and Rusted Shut was just the ticket. So after screamign and shouting to Rusted Shut I asked Don what he was on and he replied “On? Motherfucker I haven’t touched a gotdang drop all day!” snarled Don. Well, if that don’t beat all.

Box Elders

We then headed over to Red 7. The Box Elders were playing. It was nice 60’s inspired power pop and the guywas wearing a nice combo of a gold suit and black shorts but while pleasant, not very much to write home about. After all we were there for…

Jack Oblivion

Now the Oblivions are a great band, but while I was aware of the Reigning Sound and Greg Oblivion’s solo stuff, I had to plead ignorance to Jack Oblivion’s solo stuff. Thankfully from the first ring of his guitar and the rough and energetic sound of the band it was probably the most fun show I saw at SXSW – a perfect way to close up. Dancing our asses off to a fine example of American Rock and Roll with a band that was tight as hell but loose enough to convey all the chaotic energy that many Americana bands often forget is core to rock and roll. That’s not to say that these guys were hanging from the rafters to get the crowd riled up. They didn’t need to – the music did it for them – well, at least for me and my friends. When SXSW ends with drunken dancing, I think we done good.

Rock and Roll, Motherfuckers.
See you next year. that’s a wrap.

My SXSW 2024 Posts:

Jameson and Lonsetar SXSW 2024 Part I: (Link)
Jameson and Lonsetar SXSW 2024 Part II: (Link)
Jameson and Lonsetar SXSW 2024 Part III: (Link)

Also,

April’s recap (Link)

I hope you guys had as much fun as I had this Saturday. I sure had a blast listening to great music, running into just about everyone I know, and it’s nice to see Westheimer with some hustle and bustle on its sidewalks.

Some highlights? OK! The Wild Moccasins played a great show outside Mango’s on a rickety stage that seemed to be on the verge of collapse from all the hopping and general Moccasins shenanigans. The added amusement for me was watching as my very serious and artistically minded six-year-old tried in futility to find a spot on stage stable enough for him to draw the five popsters. Damn it, how can I express myself artistically if you guys keep hopping around up there! Hearing Paul Winstanley and Lucas Gorham perform outside La Strada was wonderful too. I hadn’t heard Paul take a bass guitar to the edge like that in ages and it was wonderful and challenging to hear it again. Also fun was the (this time official) Cop Warmth and B L A C K I E gorilla set. Cop Warmth, for the uninitiated, is the musical equivalent of children running around the playground in pure chaotic frenzied joy. My favorite moment of the set was when Craig, running into the audience, made a woman squeal in fright. B L A C K I E meanwhile doesn’t so much a rap as spout words like a steel-driver laying down iron with every ounce of energy at his disposal. Balaclavas, at the acoustically pleasing space behind the Austin Layne Hotel, performed one of the best sets of the day as they kicked-out amazing new material that reminded you just how unique their sound is and how furious their shows can be. How they are not one of Houston’s biggest draws, I’ll never understand. Over at Mango’s, as we were waiting for Tambersauro, we got some drama as some drunk Asian woman was challenging another woman to some fisticuffs. Unfortunately, the fisticuffs did eventually occur outside but while no one was getting hurt, it was pretty amusing theatre of the absurd. Tambersauro though wasn’t about to be upstaged by a lone drunk and proceeded to tear into a raging set that almost made me forget that I was trying to see five bands in that time slot. Luckily a friend who knew this, poked me and pointed to her watch. Thanks mon ami! The McKenzies were quite a sight surrounded by an enthusiastic crowd of fans who had joined them on stage. Ah, those Houston pop bands sure know how to work-up a crowd. Buxton closed out the outdoor shows with an amazing set that had the entire crowd at the Austin Layne Hotel enraptured. After the first set, the audience clearly wanted more and thankfully JD (Secret Saturday Shows, Guitars, Lenny Briscoe, etc) demanded they play a few more and Sergio Trevino somehow agreed to it in his typical sheepish manner then proceeded to treat us with a work in progress that was much better than I think they realized. I think Trevino and company work their music with such expert care that they seem a bit worried about showing some rough edges. That’s OK because there is a bit of excitement about seeing a band not exactly knowing where they are going with a song and that vulnerability – that putting yourself out there with no net – is charming when you are as good a band as Buxton. Now for me that was pretty much the proper end of the Block Party for me. I was pretty tired by then but, like the Terminator, the Block Party just wouldn’t quit. Don’t get me wrong, I saw some amazing sets afterwards like Something Fierce laying down some serious and furious pop-punk and Satin Hook’s Lucas Gorham using a Tuvan throat singing technique for backing vocals but by the time the Jon Benet plowed into their set, I was physically fatigued. I’ll admit it. Another Block Party has left me beaten and bloody on the canvas. So, what’s new? At least I had fun getting pummeled.

Now one last thing before I get to the photos: Kudos to our heroic and fearless FPH leader Omar. Omar is the general behind all these operations; he books all the bands and gets everyone involved to little acclaim. That’s largely because he’s not one to self-aggrandize but, instead, seriously believes in the community of artists and people that live in this city. I for one, seeing a small bit of what he does behind the scenes, am always impressed at how the guy pulls it off twice a year. Of course Omar can’t do it himself and it’s only because of the efforts of all the local businesses, bands, artists, and the community in general coming together that makes these things so special. That’s also because, unlike the latter years of the wholly unrelated Westheimer Street Festival, this event isn’t just about attracting sponsors but about building and celebrating a community. That’s the way these things should be. So thanks everyone who helped and came out. I don’t know about you but I’m ready for another round next Spring.

Links:
Complete Sets on my Flickr.
* Westheimer Block Party (Link)
* Bonus: B L A C K I E & Cop Warmth’s Guerilla set (Link)

Oh and look:
Breakfast On Tour posted some pictures on their Flickr too (link)