Even in October, the late afternoon sun in West Texas shows no mercy. We zoom past a group of buzzards sitting on posts, casually staring at a fresh, flattened carcass. The endless rows of telephone poles all bend slightly to West, as if pointing at the looming clay-colored mountains dotted with Yucca. The whole desert seems to be saying, "Eh."

The sleepy, very David Lynchian town of Alpine (there’s even a Twin Peaks Liquors there) sets the mood for the drive into Marfa, a town that sneaks up on us, until we see the hordes of kids with tattooed arms and black shirts ambling down main street. Then the desert sky opens and it starts pouring.

Thousands descended upon the small town of Marfa, Texas this weekend, doubling its population for the yearly arts open house sponsored by the Chinati and Judd Foundations. But most of them – including a whole lot of Austin faces – were really there to see the free musical guest, Sonic Youth, perform Saturday night. This convergence of “underground art” types on the town, which supports a burgeoning art scene, but also has a Dairy Queen and cops who wear cowboy boots and ten-gallon hats, presented a great social experiment. Young people wandered the streets carrying 12-packs, because there was only one small bar open. Down in front of the Hotel Paisano, the historic filming headquarters for the 1955 James Dean movie Giant, free food was being doled out as the sun set, the soundtrack provided by a rousing mariachi band.

I showed up at Stubb’s Saturday night at 7:45 for Outformation's 8pm start and they were already well into their blast of Southern boogie. This is how you know they're road dogs. Led by former Widespread Panic guitar tech Sam Holt, the quintet played for 30 minutes without taking their first break, winding through some loud, hard Americana. Comparisons to Panic are not unjustified, but Outformation took a more blue-collar approach. Lighter on the space jams and further into the blues a la fellow Georgians the Allman Brothers, they closed with a revved up take on the Marshall Tucker Band’s instrumental “Long Hard Ride,” which illustrated the point perfectly.

Though they could be described as a "jam band," headliner Umphrey’s McGee comes from a different direction than those emulating the Grateful Dead. This was obvious from a couple of speed metal/prog rock guitar excursions, especially second set (yes, there were two) opener, “Wizard Burial Ground,” on which guitarist Jake Cinninger set his guitar on stun. While they occasionally drifted into the realm of noodling, the Chicago sextet also mixed in techno beats, Steely Dan soul, and reggae, proving they're capable of almost any style, but two lengthy sets may have been a bit much for unfamiliar ears.

Estranged Austin/Fort Worth duo Best Fwends, whose hysterical debut album, Alphabetically Arranged (Moshi Moshi), was recently heralded by Vice as the "Worst Album of the Month,"is taking its retro anti-pop to the overseas equivalent of CMJ, the Iceland Airwaves Festival. After that, the two plan on rummaging through Europe, but there's no telling where they'll end up.

In case you've never caught Best Fwends live, here's a video that sums up the experience. Check out their Myspace page for a killer cover of Necros' "Tarnished Words."

In addition to celebrating her 70th birthday tomorrow night at the Continental Club, rockabilly queen Wanda Jackson has signed a Daisy Rock guitar, which will be raffled off to benefit the Girls Rock Camp of Austin. Tickets cost $5. GRC director Emily Marks mentioned over the summer that Jackson may also be involved in the camp next year.

A sea of camera phones. A gaggle of scantily-clad women on stage. The smell of weed. Yes, it’s the traditional trinity of hip-hop shows, and it was no different for Three 6 Mafia's headlining slot at Stubb's last night, part of Hot 93.3's Meltdown 2007. Although the set was more a medley of songs – some chopped disappointingly short right in the middle – DJ Paul and Juicy J gave the crowd what they wanted to hear, which was “Poppin’ My Collar,” “Slob On My Knob,” “Sippin’ On Syrup,” “Ridin’ Spinners,” “Tear Da Club Up,” "Stay Fly," and the song that won the Memphis duo an Oscar, “It's Hard Out Here For a Pimp.” This was all in 30 minutes.

It’d be impossible, what with their immense, decade-spanning catalog, to squeeze and please everyone (i.e. me) by playing something from, say, the Choices album (i.e. “2-Way Freak,” “Baby Mama”) but they made up for it with the little things: bowel-shaking bass, DJ Paul’s stylish studded leather glovette/kerchief combo, and two male backup dancers who were popping and locking, mirroring what seems to be a current dance renaissance in hip-hop. Watch them feet.

Even the two guys with Insane Clown Posse facepaint were grinding, though not on each other. More photos above.

Death comes much too quickly and silently after a certain age. Last week saw two very unexpected deaths from opposite ends of the local musical spectrum and they’ve provoked myriad thoughts.

The email from singer Libbi Bosworth was short but sad: Did I know Gary Primich had been found dead? No.

Primich was an outstanding harp player, one of the most loved and respected ones. His name was evoked this past weekend in places like Patsy’s Cowgirl Café and the Continental Club. Over on his website, his family and former wife and friend Tina posted notice along with a link to three suggested recipients for memorial donations in lieu of flowers. The Oak Hill House, SIMS Foundation, and Animal Trustees of Austin are the chosen organizations, and fine ones they are.

I talked to Bosworth on the phone for a while that day but she was terribly shell-shocked by the news, having recorded with him before. “When he played, it was like a wild love affair,” she enthused. “I just loved him as a person.”

If you watched the season debut of The Bachelor Monday, you might know 34-year-old Brad Womack's the owner of the Chuggin' Monkey and Uncle Flirty's, among other Sixth Street drinking establishments. With all these local bachelor searches lately, the Chronicle's going the opposite direction with our first-ever least-eligible bachelor search. Visit our Bacheloser site to submit someone you feel fits the criteria, or to submit yourself if you're a local male over 18 who might not have a job or a car, but possesses an, you know, "inner" beauty. Visit austinchronicle.com/bacheloser for more details.

With her third record, Firebird (Bandolera), Patricia Vonne makes good on her potent Texas roots rock and San Antonio heritage. Because she’s fighting laryngitis this week, the singer-songwriter-actress wanted to save her voice for tonight's CD release party at the Continental Club, so we checked in via email.

Geezerville: Firebird opens with "Missing Women," which concerns the murder of hundreds of women in Juarez, Mexico. How did you become involved with the Juarez Project, which strives to shed light on this situation?

Patricia Vonne: When I was performing in Mexico City, I was given a documentary called Senoritas Extraviada by Lourdes Portillo. The graphic descriptions and extent of these inhumane murders haunted me. I traveled to Juarez and met with the mothers of some of the victims who let me in to their tragic world. I felt compelled to write "Missing Women" as a tribute to these innocent forgotten souls and help bring awareness to this ongoing tragedy.

G: Your music is a rather unique combination of Latino and Texas influences. Who are your biggest influences and how did they shape what you do?

The wind has finally blown Amy Annelle, aka the Places, and Ralph White home to Austin.

"The tour was epic and very enjoyable until a bad twist of fate on the way back into town Sunday," Annelle reports. "Ralph's dog Stella got bit in the face by a rattlesnake by the Llano River. She is a trooper and it looks like she is going to make it, but the vet bills are crazy."

The Places and Ralph White host a benefit tonight at Lovejoys. The show is free, but all donations and proceeds will help offset Stella's bills.