AUSTIN, Texas -- A few weeks ago, my teenage son was in the throes of apocalyptic heartbreak. His girlfriend had broken up with him, and they were having frequent and painful electronic exchanges about it. After a particularly difficult instant-message conversation, he sat in our darkened living room with an anguished look on his face. I was sitting with him, doing what I do -- trying to make him feel better with, you know, words -- and failing miserably.

So I finally asked: "Want to hear a song that's about exactly how you feel right now?" Sure, he said, and I pulled out Big Star's "Thirteen." For my green, "Thirteen" is the best expression of teenage heartbreak there is. And yet I was hesitant about trotting it out because "Thirteen" is a quiet acoustic ballad and my son's tastes trend toward nasty, aggressive metal. Still...it just melted him (and me, too). He must've played it a dozen times that night, and he sent it to a bunch of friends. The girl, too. Didn't solve anything, of course, and they're still broken up. But it made both of us feel better. One takes redemption where one finds it.

So why am I telling you this now? Because Jody Stephens, Big Star's drummer, was in Austin for South By Southwest this week, I was able to share this story with him -- and he was visibly moved. I could tell it made his day, and it kind of made mine, too. And it's exactly this sort of connection, with music and the people who make it and love it, that keeps me coming back down here after 22 years.

For all the snide complaints you hear about SXSW, there's still no better place to get back in touch with one's inner fan of music and passion and life -- for me, anyway. It's a big, sprawling, confusing mess of bands and panel discussions and people on the move and on the make, a bewildering mob scene that's impossible to make sense of. Yet it's still the most fun I have year after year, whether stumbling across something new, flying the hometown flag or reconnecting with old favorites.

It is, of course, beyond exhausting. So I cope by adopting the rhythms of a shark -- I must keep moving -- and Saturday's final day began early. Well before noon, I was at Austin's venerable Continental Club for Mojo Nixon's annual pancake breakfast roots-rock extravaganza. Listening to The Twang play strangely Germanic honky-tonk versions of songs by Amy Winehouse, Beastie Boys, Motorhead and even the Village People over coffee and pancakes was a perfect way to start the day (although I passed on the pancakes with jalapenos).

Over the course of the afternoon and evening, I saw resurgent British rock band Blue Aeroplanes (definitely had their moments) and Oklahoma folksinger/songwriter Samantha Crain (solid, although I was such a zombie by then that I was having trouble focusing). But the day belonged to Jon Langford's Pine Valley Cosmonauts. Langford's crazed punked-out country-rock can be a bit schticky, and there was lots of between-song chit-chat about Aboriginal country-western music and obscure one-hit wonders. But Langford can also bear down and rock hard enough to blow you away, which he and his band did at the end of the set. A spectacular moment in a week full of them.

So it's been a grand time, as usual. Thanks for coming along. I'll see you back in the 9-1-9 soon.

AUSTIN, Texas — It's always interesting to see how our home folks do at South by Southwest, and whether or not their charms translate away from the Triangle. And Raleigh's The Love Language were pretty great down here on Friday night. The group makes sadness sound almost happy, with peppy, exuberant arrangements rendered at metallic volumes; if you're not otherwise occupied next Saturday, March 28, you really should catch their homecoming show at Chapel Hill's Local 506 (see next Friday's paper for more on that).

Other Friday highlights included O+S, a lovely and seductively ambient group that played moody electronic pop with an overpowering rhythmic pulse; and a revved-up Austin power trio called White Denim, who were one-dimensional in an ADD kind of way but fun nevertheless. On the down side, I still cannot figure out what anybody sees in Glasvegas, who have been touted as some kind of biggest-band-in-the-world savior but left almost no impression on me. The hipsters seemed to dig 'em, though.

The night concluded with an old favorite, Right or Happy, formerly known as the Reivers, and a band I've loved with obsessive devotion since the first time I saw them during college days a quarter-century or so ago (for more on the back-story, check this). The main difference between the two incarnations is that the current model includes a keyboardist. Really, though, the group is still all about Kim Longacre and John Croslin's voices and the way they blend. It's still about the prettiest thing I've ever heard, although I'll cop to being such a rabid fan that I'm probably not to be trusted. But even singing new songs I'd never heard before, they melted my cold, cold heart. And when they dusted off the old Reivers chestnut "Ragamuffin Man," it was mist-up time.

I sure do love this town this time of year.

AUSTIN, Texas — Discovering new favorites is a big part of the South By Southwest experience, and it keeps attendees scurrying all over town in search of that next-big-thing buzz. But it can be just as much fun to reconnect with old favorites, and be reminded all over again why you love 'em. Day two's highlights fell in the latter category.

The day began at the live-performance room of cool Austin radio station KGSR, which brings in SXSW acts for live-performance broadcasts during the festival. First up were Gary Louris & Mark Olson, former co-leaders of the Jayhawks -- and there is probably not a more mournful sound on this earth than those two voices locked in high, keening harmonies in a song of yearning: Saturday morning on Sunday Street/How I long to be there...

Sad and subdued, yet beautiful.

Then came Gomez, an English rock band I've probably not listened to in years. But that's gonna change because they were fantastic (even though the group's best singer, the raspy-voiced Ben Ottewell, remains an under-utilized resource who just doesn't sing lead often enough). "Airstream Driver" opened the set, with a pulverizing groove that seemed to spiral outward like a giant rope uncoiling; by the end of the song, it felt like it was covering up most of Central Texas. "Girlshapedlovedrug" and "How We Operate" were also both just huge, and marvelous; much head-bobbing glee.

After that came a mad dash to the convention center downtown for the keynote address from legendary producer/band-leader Quincy Jones -- a man who has never been shy about touting his own legacy. But heck, if you've got it flaunt it; and Jones definitely has it, having produced everything from Frank Sinatra to the top-selling album of all time. Of course, he namedropped just shamelessly. Felt like it should've been a drinking game, so I started keeping track of names that came up. A partial list:

Willie Nelson, Christopher Cross, Ray Charles, Lyle Lovett, Michael Jackson, Julia Roberts, Robert DeNiro, Harvey Keitel, George Burns, Sinatra, Jennifer Hudson, Astor Piazzolla, Ahmet Ertegun, Jerry Wexler, Yo-Yo Ma, Leo Fender, Prince, Madonna, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Count Basie, Stevie Wonder, 50 Cent, Kool Moe Dee, Usher, Mary J.  Blige, Bo Diddley, Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong, John Glenn, Aretha Franklin, Confucious, Plato, Socrates, Kirkegaard, Diana Ross, Rick James, Paul McCartney, Gloria Vanderbilt, Steven Spielberg, Barbra Streisand, Benny Goodman, Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker, Ted Turner, Alex Haley, Catherine  Zeta-Jones, Richard Burton, Condoleezza Rice, John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Flatt & Scruggs, Miles Davis, Cannonball Adderley...

That was fun, as were some of the 76-year-old Jones' words of philosophy ("The good news is, when you get over the hill, that's when you pick up speed."). And so was an afternoon and evening spent wandering hither and yon to drop in on performances, for anywhere from a song or two up to a full set.

South by Southwest turns all of central Austin into one big live-music venue, and having that much music around can be rejuvenating. Late in the afternoon, I was hoofing it to a restaurant east of downtown because I couldn't find a cab, and dragging a bit -- until I heard this great little band, Lovely Sparrows, playing in a tent in a parking lot; bounciest flute-accompanied rock you've ever heard. I drank it up like an energy drink, picking up a spring in my step that even a massive plate of enchiladas didn't slow down.

I also saw a bit of Raleigh's Annuals, whose cut-to-the-crashing-waves-of-chorus dynamic was great as ever (even when played for a mob of chatty and hard-to-impress hipsters); The Rural Alberta Advantage, a spooky folk-pop band with a knack for strange electronic flourishes; and Chapel Hill expatriate Alina Simone, whose new songs from her upcoming album sounded mighty fine.

Then there was Grizzly Bear, a Brooklyn band that is absolutely peerless at the use of echo and empty sonic spaces. Grizzly Bear makes you aware of shape as a sonic characteristic, the way sounds can fit together, blend or bounce off each other. The group is sort of like Talking Heads, but with texture rather than rhythm as focal point -- and principle singer Daniel Rossen is a brilliant vocalist whose spectral wail seems to pierce right through you. The master stroke was a haunting cover of the Crystals' "He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)" that had to be heard to be believed.

Rossen's voice was the one echoing in my head as I walked to the car at the end of the night.

AUSTIN, Texas — You hear a lot nowadays about America's declining place in the world, and how our importance (cultural, economic and otherwise) is on the wane. But the truth is, the rest of the world still wants in. All you have to do to understand this is see my favorite new band, Sprengjuhollin, the highlight of South By Southwest's opening night -- and wonder how the heck a scruffy quintet from Reykjavik, Iceland, could wind up sounding so, so simpatico to bands on the underground circuit all over this great land of ours.

I'm told that Sprengjuhollin means "Palace of Explosions" in Iceland. But don't ask me how to say their name, even though the band coached the audience on how to pronounce it. It was, alas, not much of an audience. The unfortunate part of all the thousands of bands South By Southwest draws is that a lot of them get stuck in a situation like Sprengjuhollin, playing for a crowd numbering perhaps 30 after traveling all the way from Reykjavik.

Bless their Icelandic hearts, it didn't seem to bother the band a bit. A scruffy young indie-rock quartet, Sprengjuhollin whipsawed between rustic jingle-jangle and overdrive riff-rock, punctuated with genius stage moves (falling down in unison, hilariously) and deadpan stage patter. "Give it up for the weather," was one observation. And, in response to applause: "Yes, we expect the same for you." Their songs were pretty great, too, especially a lovely ballad called "Worry Till Spring." Take a listen at their MySpace.

Sprengjuhollin was literally the first band I saw Wednesday night, which meant the evening peaked early. But another high point was The Cheek, a very young, British and preppy group that was equal parts Clash, Hives and Buzzcocks, jumping up and down on a tiny stage; big kicks and big, big fun. Our homeboys Valient Thorr also did great, as usual, bringing the metal to the masses. But the rest of the night provided no buzz to match that opening salvo, despite lots of time spent fighting crowds.

We'll see how the rest of the week goes. But I've already got one great find for this year.

I have a heavier heart than usual this time of year due to recent events; but South by Southwest is finally here -- one of my favorite annual happenings, and a trip I look forward to every year. I'm blasting off first thing Wednesday; and, if the computer cooperates, I'll be filing bulletins in this space -- checking on on the locals and other possible bands of interest. Please do join me.

If you're curious about how this has gone in years past, here are reports from last year; while 2007's recaps are linked from here.

A few folks have inquired about this, so here it is -- the complete list of North Carolina bands playing South By Southwest next week, as per the most recently updated SXSW band list. It gets going March 18 in Austin, Texas.

Alesana (Raleigh)
Annuals (Raleigh)
Avett Brothers (Concord)
Black Skies (Chapel Hill)
Brother Reade (Winston-Salem)
Colossus (Raleigh)
Des Ark (Durham)
Dexter Romweber Duo (Chapel Hill)
Ear Pwr (Asheville)
Floating Action (Black Mountain)
Lonnie Walker (Raleigh/Greenville)
The Love Language (Raleigh)
Megafaun (Durham)
Moaners (Chapel Hill)
The Physics of Meaning (Chapel Hill)
Rosebuds (Raleigh)
Valient Thorr (Chapel Hill)

Four weeks from today, South by Southwest will be in full swing, with thousands upon thousands of bands swarming around Austin, Texas, to play showcases both authorized and not. I can't wait. Until then, however, perusing the list of performing bands for funny names is one of my favorite pastimes. The following is what caught my eye this year; maybe I'll even get to see some of them.

A Hawk and a Hacksaw (Zuzax, N.M.)
The Aimless Never Miss (San Francisco)
Angry Vs. The Bear (Essex, U.K.)
Boxcar Satan (San Antonio)
Care Bears on Fire (New York)
Closure in Moscow (Melbourne, Australia)
Dananananaykroyd (Glasgow, Scotland)
DD/MM/YYYY (Toronto)
Dear and the Headlights (Tempe, Ariz.)
Deleted Waveform Gatherings (Oslo, norway)
Don't Tell Sophie (Tacoma, Wash.)
Fair to Midland (Sulpher Springs, Texas)
Hollerado (Montreal)
Hurray for the Riff Raff (New Orleans)
I Love Math (Dallas)
In Case of Fire (Belfast, Ireland)
NeverShoutNever! (Joplin, Mo.)
Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man (London)
The Paranoid Critical Revolution (New York)
Pocahaunted (Los Angeles)
River City Tanlines (Memphis)
The Rural Alberta Advantage (Toronto)
Sanguine Piss (Philadelphia)
The Tallest Man on Earth (Karlstad, Sweden)
Terror Pigeon Dance Revolt (Purchase, New York)
U Can Unlearn Guitar (Chicago)
We Were Promised Jetpacks (Glasgow)

Next year's South By Southwest doesn't get underway for more than four months (131 days, actually). But if you're an artist and you're thinking about playing the festival, the deadline to apply for a showcase slot is today -- as in Friday, Nov. 7.

So get to it, and maybe I'll see you there.