Here’s Grasshopperpalooza organizer (and occasional Current contributor) James Woodard’s take on the fest’s bands. You can hear for yourselves on a mixtape, also courtesy of Woodard.
Austin’s prog-pop darlings (with San Antonio roots). Killer, dense and intense songwriting that stays heady while delivering the catchy goods. New album is just out, featuring production and performance by The Mars Volta’s Ikey Owens.
The Rich Hands
From being voted “Most Underrated Band’ in town to a group of garage-rock road warriors in just a couple years, the boys in The Rich Hands have proven themselves to be one of SA’s premier working bands. And they kick major ass too.
Like Black Flag getting into a fistfight with Oxbow, Ghost Police is a musical kick-in-the-teeth. Intense, spastic, groove-laden and enthralling live set.
San Antonio’s new favorite band, Lonely Horse takes their tried-and-true ’70s rock roots and gives it a modern/lo-fi rock revival shot in the ass.
Worshipping at the altar of ’70s fuzz gods, Slo-Poke take you on a smoke-filled journey of Hot Rock in the back seat of their Caprice Classic.
Trip The Light
Current-lauded one-man electronic act; lo-fi trips to otherworldly atmospheres where pretty girls play Nintendo in pillows of cotton candy.
That feeling you get when the guy in the shadows with the knife is closing in on that buxom teenage girl in that weird slasher movie in Dad’s tape collection. But music.
Reverb-drenched, shoegazey introversion blossoms into pummeling rock ’n’ roll madness. Búho presents interesting juxtapositions of texture, songcraft, and approach to Hot Rock.
Local DIY emotive punk/skramz heroes. Like getting bloody elbows from face-planting in front of the cute girl because you were trying to impress her with a skateboard trick you had no business trying. But music.
Heartfelt songs and fat grooves presented with a cool-drunk-uncle-with-the-killer-record-collection vibe. George Strait meets Dinosaur Jr.
Fairly new to the scene, these dudes have been getting a lot of hype from their raw sound and live performances; think equal parts Chavez, Slint and Sunny Day Real Estate.
Heat of the Sun
Father, son and friend assemble to become a Mopar V8 of blues-laden classic rock with some Queens of the Stone Age overtones and a wall-of-sound, well, sound.
Scream-tinged party punk with a big bite. Think Guided By Voices meets a less scary Stooges.
Awesome singer-songwriter jams; playful but melancholy, and lush but provincial. Like if R. Stevie Moore lived next door to Pete and Pete.
Someone put LSD in the PBR. Dylan Carlson’s illegitimate Mexican children create psychoholic textures with a fat hit of Southern rock.
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