Andy Flemming’s 2015 SXSW Diary from Austin: Oh god. I think I’ve killed someone

M&C Saatchi, Sydney creative director Andy Flemming is covering SXSW exclusively for Campaign Brief. He hopes.

4:08am. I awoke to the smell of blood, that coppery, thick aroma that permeates a room like a murderous soup. I edged my way to the end of the bed. I knew what lay upon the carpet but I think part of me refused to believe it. The waiter had been dead four, maybe five hours. He was pale, so the eyes were immediately drawn to the two vivid bite marks on his neck. The room service order was on the table where he’d left it. He was my first kill in Austin. He would not be my last. Yes. It’s my fourth, and last, SXSW diary. I’m not sure if anyone’s reading it as Adfest and SXSW have coincided, resulting in a veritable feast of diarists so you’ve got to do your best to, you know, stand out in a crowded market. If you’ve somehow made it this far we’ve got gamers to rip into today. Oh, and I’m now in London (don’t ask,) but trust me, the memories (and the copious notes I made in my notebook) are still strong.

8:08am. My last breakfast at the tiny hotel buffet. Every morning we get these odd Turkey burgers with a dollop of salsa and melted cheese. I’ve ignored them all week as they look weird but I’ve just realised they’re fucking amazing so I’ve had two with my ‘coffee.’ The hotel claims to serve Starbucks coffee, but the milk they use is called ‘2%.’ I have no fucking idea what the 2% stands for (fat? actual milk?) but it leaves a plastic foam that you can’t get rid of unless you use your fingers and sort of shake it off.

10.47am. There’s a huge crowd for Julia Louis-Dreyfus so Esther Clerehan and I are lucky to snare third row seats. A woman in the row behind us keeps loudly banging on about the ‘lack of celebrities’ at SXSW this year. She doesn’t have the hacker/geek/futurist/planner look and refuses to shut the fuck up so we’re curious as to her occupation. Esther uses the app to look her badge up. She’s apparently a ‘Consultant.’ A quick check on LinkedIn shows that she’s actually an accountant in Austin, so she’s basically fucking crashed SXSW. Julia Louis-Dreyfus walks in and the woman starts whooping loudly, (as indeed she will throughout the entire sodding thing.) The session is funny, smart and Dreyfus is every bit as quick and sexy as she is on the incredible ‘Veep.’ In the last fifteen minutes the audience are allowed to ask a few questions. After the usual Seinfeld guff a guy with piercings takes the microphone. There’s a long pause. He asks what it’s like to be ‘part of the cynicism of Armando Iannucci’s fevered nightmare.’ There’s a ripple of concern and, to be absolutely honest, part of me thinks these are the kind of insane words that precede a shotgun being pulled out. I’m not sure if the guy was dragged out but everyone on stage has a nervous laugh.

12:45pm. I make my way to the ‘gaming pavilion.’ The people in here are different. They’re a bit, well, wider for a start and they wear ironic t-shirts with company names that I recognise from popular games. My press-pass annoyingly works like magic in here. I’m followed around the vast hall by a smelly trail of reps and salesmen who all seem to think I’m there to give their independent titles exposure. I manage to lose them in the crowd and find myself pushed into a sort of ‘arena’ where grown men are shouting at each other. They’re playing a variety of fantasy card games that, from the brief snippets I caught before I got the fuck out of there, involve wizards, ‘mana’ and, you know axes and goblins ‘n stuff.

1:10pm. You shouldn’t have to see ‘Master Chief’ from ‘Halo’ without his helmet having a cheeky fag out the back but I just did.

1:24pm. My first slice of pizza in Austin and it’s every bit as artery clogging as I thought it would be.

4:45pm. The camera pans up as a yellow cab passes underneath. We cut to a man inside. He looks deep in thought. The last rays of the Texan sun are reflected on the window. We notice a red tomato stain on the man’s shirt. He’s obviously tried to dab it off but just made the stain much larger.

4:46pm. I guess this is where I’m supposed to reflect upon the last few days. Being half-pissed and in London makes that rather difficult but here goes. SouthBy (or SexWoo, however you want to call it,) is spectacularly important if you want to keep your job in the next five years. The sheer variety of geniuses speaking and the literally hundreds of seminars, workshops and keynotes allow you to essentially custom make an itinerary that fits your specific interests, be it data, coding, drones, VR or fucking Grumpy Cat (he made a guest appearance at the ‘International House of Bacon’ with queues around the block.) Sure, Cannes is fun, especially if you love getting off your face, but this is where we’re going rather than where we’ve been (thanks Esther.) I highly recommend making the pilgrimage, especially if you’re also keen on free alcohol, beards and cheese.

Right now. A quick huzzah! for all the M&C crew who worked on the now SXSW awarded Clever Buoy. Wow.

System.exit(0); as they say in Austin.