I'm going to ease myself into South By Southwest this week. It's been about ten years since I've rambled these city streets, and my first time attending SXSW. It's a zoo, just as I imagined it would be. Attendees – artists, members of the press and music fan alike – stream out of the Austin Convention Center newly baptized with badges or wristbands, all scheming their next steps. Lines of bodies snake around buildings and spill out into the streets. Noise is everywhere. After orienting myself back to Austin's downtown area, and determining the best way to weather this 80 plus degree heat (I'm pale, from Seattle – you get the picture), I've settled on a goal of two parties today to get my feet wet.

I pick up my badge and head over to Red 7 for the Terrorbird and Forcefield PR day party. I arrive to see Switzerland's Larytta getting interviewed in a corner. I grab a beer and sadly learn the venue does not serve food, which throws my plan of staying for most of the acts into the toilet. I don't last long – haven't eaten yet today – but hold out for to see Larytta, Lake and Wavves.

Lake played first outside, doing their best to compete with Larytta loudly setting up indoors. Playing a number of songs from their album Oh, The Places We'll Go, they went full on with their quirky, happy brand of pop – minus sometimes member and Sufjan acolyte John Ringhofer – pulling together a tight set. Chugging Lone Stars and running in place, Larytta brought the dance party. The young electronic duo played selections from their album Difficult Fun, and I was happy to learn that they are the true authors of “Bauch Amp,” not Junior Boys as I thought. The packed Wavves showcase was decent – that R.W. Ulsh is one hell of a drummer – but properly plugged in, the sound lacked the distorted buzz that has so defined the famous Wavves recordings of Nathan William. They brought the feeling, it was only more polished. I walk out of the club to a HUGE line, damn my lack of foresight (Fol Chen, Beach House and The Thermals, among others,were still to play) and resignedly grab a slice of pizza as the thought of having a balanced meal any time this week slowly makes its way out of my mind.

I walk over to the Radio Room for Paste magazine's party just as Oakland's Port O'Brien were starting. The two bass, two-guitar, drum outfit put on a loud, amped show, playing anthemic alt-country rock. They finished, and I shuffled over to see Ohio's Heartless Bastards in the tent outside who brought a similar level of energy with a visceral, bluesy edge and Erica Wennerstrom's gravelly rasp. Sweden's Loney Dear followed next on the indoor stage with intervals of noise, melody and extended, ambient vocals.

The half-buzzed, chatty crowd was distracted, but the angular rock of New Hampshire's Wild Light got everyone focused for closer M. Ward, after it was announced Superdrag would not be playing. Shortly after five, M. Ward walked on stage and began his solo acoustic set. He played from most of his catalog, performed a request, and arranged an instrumental medley composed of two songs. His playing was masterful and skilled, highlighting his talent. It was short but sweet – enough time to show anyone with any doubt that he his own man on the stage. Long day in the sun, I head back to the hotel for rest. More tomorrow!