As Fast As, you can Doing Texas, by way of Maine and New Hampshire BY DWAYNE MARTIN

Every March, the South By Southwest (SXSW) Festival earns Austin, Texas, its self-proclaimed reputation as "Live Music Capital of the World." (See the "Movies" section for Gerard Peary's take on the cinematic side of SXSW.) For the music industry, it is the place to be, attracting executives, reporters, and artists all hoping to "make it happen." More than 1350 bands take the stage to play sets at local nightclubs, coffee houses, and clothing stores. In the past, the festival launched the careers of Franz Ferdinand, Beck, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

For musicians, it’s downright grueling. Many performers finish a set, grab their gear, and head across town to play another set an hour later. To some, it is an endurance test. English folk rocker Robyn Hitchcock will play 37 sets in the four-day stretch. And ready to run the marathon were our very own Portland/Portsmouth musicians Jon Nolan, frontman of the legendary Say Zuzu; newly Octoned and back-from-LA As Fast As, and the phenomenon that is Ray LaMontagne.

SXSW unofficially kicked off Tuesday night, with 12 bands in four hours at a small bar full of corners. Artists included the Silos, who had an indie classic with their album Cuba in the late 1980s. Jon Nolan opened the night at 9 p.m. and proclaimed, "The highlight of the evening could be right now." He played a tight three-song set to justify it. The pleaser was a duet with Marlee MacLeod, "Mary (Won’t You Come Slong?)." Together, they cast a spell conjured with spirits of Gram Parsons.

As Fast As stormed into town on Tuesday night from Maine with stops for shows in Philadelphia and Nashville. Like most of the bands at SXSW, As Fast As is "totally signed" to a major record label. Despite this, Hache, the bass player, clarified that playing at SXSW "is about establishing credibility."

As Fast As played their first set on Wednesday night at a makeshift outdoor stage behind Spiro nightclub. The crowd was a blend of beer-drinking locals and music-industry representatives working their deals on cell phones and Palm Pilots. When As Fast As took the stage, the guy behind me lamented that, "this band sounds honky-tonk. Let’s go," and proceeded to the bar with his buddies to explore the drink specials.

Much to the crowd’s surprise, As Fast As proceeded to let their music speak for itself. They were loud and they were good. They understood the crowd, knowing precisely when to pull back and when to let it roar. They drew loud applause after a strong keyboard solo evaporated to reveal a funky groove on the guitar. By the last song of the set, the guy behind me was back from the bar letting his long hair fly wild. No more Palm Pilots, no more cell phones, the audience gave pure attention to the final beats of Andrew’s drums.

I left the show and headed through the music madness of 6th Street to catch Ray LaMontagne’s set at Buffalo Billiards. The line stretched down the street, but the sign on the door informed that Ray LaMontagne cancelled due to illness. Ray’s upcoming tour has sold out shows in New York, Los Angeles, and the Fillmore in San Francisco. Provided he gets back on his feet, this cancellation won’t slow him down. It just means his fans missed their only chance to see him play "Trouble" in a pool hall.

On Thursday afternoon I headed to K-Bar, a high-end wine bar, to see another set from As Fast As. Before the band appeared, indie legend Daniel Johnston played a short set of raw, quirky music about playing cards with the devil and true love. This was followed by a Ben Folds–type crooner from San Antonio. Except for a handful of people wandering in, the crowd consisted of industry representatives. The group next to me discussed the fine qualities of artisanal cheeses. I wondered how this was going to work. This was the band’s third show in less than 24 hours. Lead singer Spencer Albee looked haggard after a Texas-style BBQ lunch and it was turning out to be a singer-songwriter showcase, not a rock concert.

When the band came on, Spencer took control by saying, "Sit down. Be comfortable. Let’s have a show." It could have been the free Red Stripe beer kicking in, but they sounded tighter than the previous night. A mother wearing a fanny pack danced a little. Her two teenage sons nodded. As the band launched into another song with full vocal onslaught, a man in an army surplus jacket got up and moved the amps to directly face the crowd’s cheers. A hipster in a tweed jacket kept shouting to his friends, "These guy rock! They are my all-time favorite band." The two teenagers stopped worrying about being seen dancing near the mother and let loose. By the end of the short set, the crowd begged for more (the only encore request I had seen at the festival). And after a little crowd play, the band complied. They started with something like Joe Walsh on steroids and finished with something resembling Hendrix. The sound blur of feedback and delay was taken over by the crowd’s hollers of approval.

Hache admitted, "I was little nervous about how we would go over with the mellow mood here." They don’t have to be. As Fast As bring the rock-and-roll show with them — even to a wine bar, careening on a singer-songwriter bender, at an indie-rock zoo.

Dwayne Martin is a Maine native currently attending grad school in Austin. He can be reached at dwaynedmartin@yahoo.com