The D.I.Y Reality of South By Southwest

It’s early March in Austin, Texas and through the 80 degree humidity, rain falls in a place called “The Duchess House.”

As the steady pour hits, people run outside to bring in expensive music equipment. Meanwhile the Fort Collins band, Frail Talk, sets up inside the living room to play their self described “squiggly music.”  

Fast forward about 20 minutes. 

Frail Talk’s calming experimental folk type set has faded and standing in the living room is a band aptly called Monsoon. With members Sienna Chandler and Joey Kegel, this duo rushes in hot lugging, a drum kit, guitar, amp, pedals, laptop, cables and one mysteriously large black box.  

Yet, before anyone could guess what Monsoon might play, Kegel’s drum sticks count ONE - TWO - THREE - FOUR and sound bursts against the crowd.

Watching the two play feels like a battle of color and sound. Kegel hits the kit in buzzy intervals, where Chandler is a mess of activity that’s hard to find a piece to focus on for too long. Though her clunky knee high boots catch the eye, between her singing, playing guitar, and flailing around, she feels in a constant state of motion.

As the two play, the previously foreshadowed large black box shoots colorful lights at Chandler. This only enhances her already animated presence. The craziest part: All of this is happening in someone’s living room with maybe five people there to witness it.   

Fast forward about three hours. 

We’re in another aptly named venue called Hole in the Wall. The event is called “Hoedown Throwdown” and features bands with Wrestlemania- style intermissions. If maybe the event was meant to show off the music, it’s hard to shake how exciting watching wrestling up close is. 

“Smash him with the chair” one fan yells. 

Four wrestlers fight on the ground below the small stage as a band sets up next to them. The crowd is going nuts. A sea of Doc Martens and eclectic vintage clothing yells at the fighters as if this is the only event on earth that matters. No one looks like they’ve ever attended a wrestling match in any other context. With names such as “Brick Savage” and “Morgan Mercy” these four duke it out with utility chains, cue sticks, and various other items definitely not meant to be used in that manner. 

This is the unofficial side of South by Southwest (SXSW). The Do. It. Yourself. in action exemplified by the madness of every house, shop, parking lot, and gas station converted into spaces that smaller bands can play at and join the fun.  

Although SXSW is a festival, it’s also a cultural behemoth, a chaotic convergence of music, film, and tech that turns Austin into a frenzied playground for creatives every March. Since 1987 SXSW has mutated into a global spectacle drawing over 280,000 people annually. 

Billion-dollar tech companies rub shoulders with scrappy indie bands playing out of the backs of vans. It’s an ecosystem where opportunity and exploitation exist in a delicate, often contentious, balance. For independent artists, SXSW is both a promised land and a proving ground, a chance to be discovered but also a test of financial endurance and industry savvy.

In hopes of capturing how the larger South By Southwest treats the local artist, here stands our main subjects, the band Frail Talk.  With members Alex Woodchek and Cor Wright, we followed them from their roots in Fort Collins, down to SXSW and into three of their six shows at the festival. 

Going into SXSW the band was hopeful that this would be an event for the better of their career. They have been on the up for the past couple months, with securing positions in the Treefort festival in Boise and of course SXSW, but is the money worth it to participate in this festival?

Artists often pay application fees between $35 and $75, plus cover travel, housing, and other costs—usually with little or no money made in return. The festival will offer performers a choice between a $300 stipend or a wristband valued at around $1,300. This has drawn widespread criticism, reinforcing the uneasy reality that SXSW profits immensely from the labor of those struggling to break in.

“You can’t drive to Austin and back for $300” Wright sighs. Instead, Frail Talk booked several shows for their drive down to Austin to subsidize. This was of course in addition to all the unofficial gigs they played at SXSW, which Wright estimates paid them about three times what the official festival did. 

Knowing the expenses and just how hectic, crowded, and at times flawed SXSW can be as an organization, some might wonder why bands still choose to take part in it? 

In the case of the Georgia based band Monsoon, who we met at the first of their six SXSW shows, they welcomed the challenge. 

“It’s definitely a notch on the belt and every band that has done it says it's really stressful but you should do it,” Kegel of Monsoon says. “Yeah it’s like one of those things, it’s like a rite of passage,” Chandler adds. 

The festival’s sprawl creates space for alternative showcases—DIY houses like “The Duchess,” parties, pop-up gigs, and other further unofficial showcases hosted by indie collectives—offering artists a chance to build audiences on their own terms. These spaces act as a counterweight to the festival’s corporate sheen, proving that raw creativity still has a foothold in Austin.

 However, SXSW is moving in on these unofficial events and claiming them as their own. 

We talked to, Brian Tweety, longtime owner of the music venue Hotel Vegas on the transition from an unofficial venue to an official one. He explained that they started in a space by the college campus (University of Texas- Austin) where being unofficial was easier, but once they moved downtown, joining the festival just made sense. 

“We’re specifically a local music venue the rest of the year, and try to carry on that tradition during South By. About 80% of our talent is local, and 20% is touring,” Tweedy describes. “We are an official venue, but do all our booking in-house, so we really stay on brand throughout the festival.” Further, Tweedy says: “They let us do our thing, and then they can put their stamp on it. It’s an amazing relationship now.”

Although SXSW is working together with music venues like Hotel Vegas, they as an organization are not booking or working with local and touring smaller artists, the venue itself is. So, if anything it seems like SXSW is taking advantage of Hotel Vegas’s reputation and trying to appear more apart of it than they really are. Some could argue that official venues are still unofficial in a sense. 

In other events, promoters will book local venues and host events that allow coverage and attention for not only bands but companies that sponsor these events. These make the companies seem more community oriented and for the people. 

At the famous Mohawk venue we talked to Andrew Conroy, one of the talent buyers for the company Resound Presents, which is an independent promoter across Austin, about the unofficial and official shows they work with and promote. 

“Official showcases often involve international artists and government partnerships, so there’s more process involved,” Convoy clarified. “Unofficial events bypass some of that red tape, which makes it easier and more accessible—especially for locals or smaller acts.”

Resound Presents is like the middle man of the D.I.Y. and official festival. In this delicate framework Resound Presents keeps the local venues happy, while not stepping on the toes of the larger corporate SXSW. By hosting these daytime free events, the public gets access to music and all the companies on the banner get a boosted reputation, amplified by their branded merch they give to attendees. 

“The unofficial daytime shows are always free and open to everyone—no badge required—so it brings out more people and makes the experience more inclusive,” Conroy says.  “I love that we can welcome anyone without having to prioritize based on badge access.”  

With such a wide range of bands who have to fly in from all over proposes the big question of: Is SXSW doing enough to make the trip worth it and accommodate these smaller bands to help them get noticed?

Looking at Frail Talk’s first official SXSW performance, which took place at midnight on a Tuesday in a comedy club, the turnout was relatively low. This was especially hitting as normally the later sets are seen as a headlining slot. 

“The strange part about that show was that the room was full about two hours before we played,” Wright explained. 

What’s further is that the band that played after Frail Talk that night, with a one A.M. start time was equally just as talented Wright continued. 

“You can be an amazing band and play South by officially and have no one there,” said Wright. Woodchek agreed, expressing that she had low expectations for the official SXSW because the atmosphere at unofficial and official events feel so different. 

Woodchek talked about how official shows just never have as many people who want to engage in the music or are looking for something new since you can do that on the internet these days. While the unofficial events felt raw, real, and like everyone was there because they wanted to be there. 

“South by just felt very distant… It almost felt like the whole time we were interacting with some AI creature, which may have been true…” Wright and Woodchek joke. 

This first show for them, and the official atmosphere in general, can play into a prime example of SXSW just slotting in smaller bands wherever there’s room and not creating enabling conditions for growth.  Moreover, not respecting the musicians themselves… Would any band pull a huge crowd in Frail Talk’s first slot when there’s so many other shows that follow in the coming days? 

In contrast, the unofficial events drew massive crowds, with people constantly flowing in and out of different venues throughout the entire week. This enables multiple smaller bands to gain exposure and increases their chances of being noticed by potential new fans or even record labels. 

Brendan Laddick, an Austin local, who we met at an unofficial event called the Marshall Day Party hosted by the Mohawk venue, commented about what SXSW used to be for local artists and smaller bands, 

“You talk to people who’ve lived here for 15 years — they have a very cynical view about what SXSW has become” Laddick describes. “They’ll say it used to be that you could just walk down the street and catch shows at houses or random places that don’t normally host live music, and suddenly you’d see a band that was huge, that you’d never expect to see there.” Now, however, Laddick continues. “ Those kinds of bands or big shows are mostly reserved for the more mainstream venues like Stubb’s or ACL Live.” 

Laddick still appreciates events such as the Marshall Day Party though. He’s especially excited to see the local Austin legends, Die Spitz, for a free show that’s bound to have a mosh pit...

Given that the unofficial shows are a major draw for many SXSW attendees, some would argue that those events are where the real action is. Unofficial events can be sponsored and promoted by big company brand names like Third Man Records, Creem, Marshall, and many others. 

One such person we spoke to was Megan Loveless who is an artists and repertoire representative and project manager for Third Man Records. She helped put on an event at a local Austin venue called 13th Floor with help from Creem Magazine. 

“We always do unofficial, free events. We just feel like that’s part of the heart of SXSW—it’s about discovery and just roaming around to shows all day. It’s definitely gotten more and more corporate over the years, and we don’t really want to be associated with that.” Loveless said.

Further, Loveless explains that many of the bands she hosts at these unofficial gigs also participate in the legitimate SXSW. She clarifies that it’s not because those bands want to be in the festival, but because the exposure is worth it. Although she reveals that Third Man also uses their events to scout acts to sign. 

“Very DIY—not sponsors like Porsche,” says Loveless in regard to Third Man Records' role in the SXSW experience. 

The unofficial shows felt much more meaningful to Frail Talk. For Woodchek, even just one person being touched by her music felt like enough. 

“We’re here because we want to be bodies in a room experiencing love and resistance.” Woodchek reflects on the feeling of being at unofficial shows. 

To be at South by Southwest or not to be…? 

If we’ve learned anything from our journey of trying to understand South By Southwest is that you have to know what you’re signing up for. 

For some artists and bands, SXSW is a launchpad and for others, it’s an expensive gamble that reinforces the industry’s inequalities. The festival’s original ethos—supporting independent music—still lingers in the margins, in the dimly lit bars and makeshift venues where emerging artists fight to be heard above the corporate commotion at these unofficial events.

“Know what your goals are […]” Woodchek offers to anyone thinking of South By Southwest for the future. She explains that it’s not inherently bad to play the festival, but the best thing one can do is know what they’re seeking ahead of time. 

“The things you think are going to change your life may just be another part of your life,” Wright adds. “But it’s a part of what you’re doing and what brings you forward in life,” Wright continues.

  “South by is this place where the resistance is at the gates, the people who are pushing against it are right there, because, I don’t know, there’s not like an unofficial Coachella, you know[…]”

Lastly Wright includes, “ I think that’s also the beauty of the South by experience is that it’s always been about people, and the people who are like, this isn't enough let's reevaluate what’s this should be.”