My SXSW had been largely twang-free before tonight. Not by design—I was simply more drawn to unknown quantities, and many of the rootsy singer-songwriters I might be interested in are regular tourers I've seen more than once.

That didn’t stop me from checking out Rhett Miller, the Old 97’s front man and native Texan, whose show turned out to be a minor revelation. Miller’s third solo record, The Believer has been a non-starter with me for months, but live, the tunes crept up on me, the newer melodies and phrases now charmingly familiar. Guess I need to give The Believer another spin—or whatever you do with CDs.

Like anyone who’s spent any time in Chicago I’ve seen Jon Langford aplenty—the Mekons’ and Waco Brothers’ gregarious beating heart seems to play out with one band or another at least once a week. But I wanted to catch Wussy, and Opal Devine’s was a hike, so I checked out the typically superb Langford set that preceded Wussy. (Afterward Langford dashed off to set up for a 1 AM Wacos show--lots of bands book at least a handful of shows at SXSW, but for Langford that's SOP.)

Wussy, the new band featuring the Ass Ponys’ Chuck Cleaver, got off to a rocky start, and wasn't wobble-free without. But the songs from the band's debut, Funeral Dress, revealed themselves in all their stark frenzy. And personality will hold a show together when all else fails--Cleaver is a bearded lump of melancholy humor, and coequal songwriter Lisa Walker burns through her gothic love stories.