SXSW Saturday: Natalie Prass, Joshua Hedley Thrill as Threats Rattle Austin

Even in with the combined revelry of SXSW's finale and St. Patrick's Day, Austin was on edge Saturday. In the early morning hours, there was a stampede on main drag Sixth Street that seems to have been caused by sounds that people thought were gunfire. During the night, a bomb threat forced the cancelation of a show featuring The Roots at Fair Market. The threat, initially believed to be an extension of the series of bombings that have targeted black residents of Austin over the past two weeks, resulted in the arrest of a 26-year-old but didn't totally quell the anxiety. For attendees of music festivals — particularly ones as densely packed as SXSW — worries about mass violence lurk in the back of your mind, whether you realize it or not, and the mass shooting at the Route 91 Harvest Festival in Las Vegas happened less than six months ago.

That said, dozens of spirited shows went off without a hitch.

I started my final day with pronoun, an emo-tinged solo project from singer-songwriter Alyse Vellturo. There's no coincidence that the crowd was full of dudes wearing Jets to Brazil shirts — Vellturo wavers between melodic indie pop and confessional fourth-wave emo, culminating in a sound that would've been perfect on Jade Tree Records in 2006. Songs like "a million other things" and "run" are rich with sincere feeling and emotional maturity, a revelation in a genre that often takes pride in its self-importance. (Editor's note: If this sounds like your jam, pronoun plays The End on Tuesday.)

Remember Natalie Prass? She lived in Nashville for a hot minute, and recorded her superb self-titled debut before growing frustrated with the city's music industry machinery and leaving for Richmond, Va., just before its release. I've always liked Prass — aside from her tremendous 2015 record, she played in a one-off punk band called MOM that I still won't shut up about — but she'd slipped off my radar in the intervening years since her debut. At her Cheer Up Charlie's gig, I was pleased to see that not only was Prass still good, she was great. In a set that pulled largely from her upcoming second record The Future and the Past, Prass showed off the newest evolution of her decidedly soul-funk vibe, with dance grooves and ’90s R&B harmonies that have pretty much completely supplanted her past indie-folk tendencies.

Across the street at Stubb's BBQ, Rachael Ray hosted Feedback, her annual eclectic day party, where I walked in on the end of Albert Hammond Jr.'s set. Hammond, who cut he teeth as lead guitarist for The Strokes, played a set of tunes that paid homage to the long lineage of New York City rockers that came before him. Which is to say, it more or less sounded like The Strokes, which isn't the worst thing in the world. (Editor's note: Hammond plays Exit/In with Spanish rock band Hinds on March 25. More in the March 22 edition of the Scene.)

But, I wasn't at Feedback to see Hammond. I was there to see Salt-N-Pepa. And you know what? Salt-N-Pepa rule. They absolutely rule! Flanked by a squad of dancers, the classic rap duo crashed through hit after hit after hit for a crowd that couldn't have been more stoked. From "Let's Talk About Sex" to "Shoop" to "Whatta Man" and beyond, S&P played everything a crowd full of day-drunk ’80s babies could've possibly wanted to hear. When confetti exploded over the crowd at the end of "Push It," I knew there was no way I'd be able to refocus for Kurt Vile, who closed out the opposite stage.

Instead, I head back to The Sidewinder and stumbled into Bambara, a ferocious punk band from Brooklyn that was very much in my face — singer Reid Bateh paced the floor in front of the stage, snarling and moshing with the crowd as the band (who originally hail from Athens, Ga.) thrashed behind him. Bambara's interesting — a noise band with a narrative streak, who cite Flannery O'Connor as an influence. Their hyper-literate noise was a pleasant surprise. Outside, psych-punk band Acid Dad launched into tunes off their debut, which dropped last week. The band would be at home on a JEFF the Brotherhood bill: They're swirly and shouty, with a good sense of hazy power chords and snotty faux-British affect.

After trying and failing to see High Waisted all weekend, I finally caught them on their 14th show of the festival. Singer Jessica Louise Dye's voice was practically shredded, but their colorful surf rock was a neon-hued delight. Distinct from the abrasiveness of the bands that preceded them, High Waisted shows are a straight-up party, bidding you to dance along to sunny guitar licks and beach melodies. They ended their set by saying they were going literally across the street (to metal bar Valhalla) to do it all over again, the second of at least three shows to end their whirlwind week at SXSW.

Locals and tuned-in tourists know that if you're on Lower Broadway, the move is Robert's Western World, where Joshua Hedley leads a world-class tour of classic country music (frequently on Monday nights). Hedley releases his debut LP Mr. Jukebox via Third Man Records in April, and he helped close out the Rachael Ray Feedback House with a selection of songs from the record. I've seen Hedley play other peoples' songs at least a dozen times — it's a thrill to see him play his own music, which fit comfortably alongside a cover of Willie Nelson's "What a Way to Live." You can take Ole Hed out of the honky-tonk, but you can't take the honky-tonk out of him: He gave the Texas crowd a good-natured ribbing and had some folks country waltzing. If somebody passed around a tip bucket, it would've been just like home. Well, maybe if you added a fried bologna sandwich to the mix, too.

An impossible line at the British Music Embassy for Superorganism sent me back to Cheer Up Charlie's for the last time of the festival, where THICK wrecked shop. THICK combines the empowering aggression of riot grrrl bands like Bratmobile and Huggy Bear with the light-heartedness of pop-punk. (Blink-182 is one of the band's biggest influences.) Singer-guitarist Nikki Sisti will tear a dumb dude to shreds with acid-tongued lyrics, but she, drummer Shari Page and bassist Kate Black have a blast, cutting up and cracking jokes at the same time. It's tough to imagine a better fit than when they play with Daddy Issues in New York later this month.

Champagne SuperChillin was never a band that made a whole lot of sense in Nashville. Though backed up with the local psych-rock bonafides of Ben Trimble (Majestico, Fly Golden Eagle) and Charles Garmendia (Clear Plastic Masks), there's not exactly a yé-yé scene in Music City for them to tap into. Now that they've relocated to New York, Champagne SuperChillin's future couldn't be any brighter. Singer Juliette Buchs has a Charlotte Gainsbourg smolder, selling every word and phrase with effortless cool.

As the night wound toward midnight, it felt only right to end SXSW 2018 with a band born and bred in Austin. Golden Dawn Arkestra is a 10-piece space-funk band in the vein of the Sun Ra Arkestra (11 pieces, if you count their spiritual advisor, who hung out onstage like Baba Oje from Arrested Development). The Arkestra descended on Lyft House at Native Hostel for a retro-futuristic dance party that bundled soul, Latin and psych sounds into a Ra-worshipping exhortation. The band played Fond Object last year, but seeing them play as conquering heroes on their home turf was special. And that's how I ended my SXSW: soaked in sweat, covered in glitter, and grinning like an idiot, just the way it should be.

Catch you next time, Austin.

See our slideshow for more photos.