SXSW Saturday: Vice Afterparty
I saw the Stooges but so did everyone. I couldn't get close enough to take a picture. Mike Watt was mouthing the words to all the songs, the Asheton brothers were beside the point, and Iggy was like one of the Body Worlds displays come to life, all muscles and confrontational frenzy, Dr. von Hagens, you thief, where is my body fat?
He was on my same flight the next day, and I saw him walking with an uneven gait and some sort of corrective sandal on one foot, already in a tight shrunken ab-revealing shirt, it wasn't even noon yet.
After the Stooges, I tried to tag along with some friends to the Vice afterparty. Our cab pulled up to a confusing lightshow of emergency response vehicle sirens and got no farther. Christina lept out to question one of the drunk rockers marching out of ground zero, and he told her that a balcony on the venue collapsed. No injuries, but everyone was being kicked out.
(I read later that the afterparty continued on a bridge??)