To be bored with South by Southwest is to be bored with life.  The music festival begins today, with 2000 bands converging on Austin to play for 30,000 attendees.  That's the official count–thousands more come for free shows and simply to be near the madness.  Some bands arrive with established credentials–Spoon, Broken Social Scene, Broken Bells–but most action surrounds young bands willing to play half a dozen shows with a chance for greater exposure.  You'll find them in packed clubs, at outdoor shows, at midnight, at midday, in alleys, in parks.  It's exhilarating; it's exhausting. (PHOTO: JAMES MERCER OF BROKEN BELLS; Ryan Muir)
 
The scope of the music is staggering: There are polymath solo acts (Neon Indian, Dosh), precise pop duos (First Aid Kit, Kaiser Cartel), French guitar trios (Papier Tigre), atmospheric LA girl quartets (Warpaint), all the way up to Danish nine-piece abstract experimentalists (Efterklang).  We're looking forward to the requisite quality from Sweden (Last Days of April, jj), smart, straight ahead Texas rock (Midlake, Yellow Fever), and ambient Dutch chamber pop (The Black Atlantic).

The usual suspects throw big showcases: Pitchfork's is promising (Local Natives, Real Estate), so is NPR's (Broken Bells, Visqueen). Labels get involved, like Portland's Kill Rock Stars (Horse Feathers, Grass Widow), as do websites, like Brooklyn Vegan, which is putting on no fewer than seven shows, including their annual all metal party–who said vegans couldn't handle the heat?

So brace yourself: South by Southwest is not a quest for logic, it's about coming to terms with more music than you can ever know.