** I was pretty sick and felt like shit on Friday so I didn’t do as much as I had planned eek! **
While waiting in line for The Antlers Thursday night I had met a band who told me about this CMJ event that is open all day that includes free haircuts, messages, drinks, games, and more. I decided to check it out the next day, which is Friday.
Jace, John Scott, Ali, Karl, and I headed to find this magical party. On the way there is documented footage of our first KSCR musical, a must to check out. We got to the party before the doors opened so Ali and I performed in the street; I played harmonica while she danced and sang.
We finally got in and scored some free rock band T-shirts while Ali played Rock Band, and dominated it.
I left almost as soon as we got there to head back to NYU to catch a panel on Hair. I had received a free tickets days before to a Hair performance and I thought it was today. Unfortunately I learned it was for the night before and I missed it, I’m still pissed about that. I arrived early and was able to catch the end of the Featured Speaker panel with Emmanual Jal. He is a hip hop artist from Sudan who was indoctrinated to become a child soldier in Ethiopia, survived and was smuggled into Kenya and saved. He told chilling stories and really spread the message of how much Africa needs help right now. He ended with a performance.
Then the Hair panel started, featuring Galt Macdermot (ORIGNAL composer), Jim Rago (ORIGINAL co-writer), and Gavin Creel (currently played Claude). I was awestruck. In front of me was the man who wrote, “Let the Sun Shine In” and “Age of Aquarious.” In front of me was the man who wrote one of the best musicals in American history. There has not been a show like Hair since 1968. They talked about how they came up with ideas, how the music came about, and more.
Then Galt got on the piano and Gavin sang some songs from the current Tony nominated Broadway revival of Hair. Momentously, Jim (who had mentioned that he had wanted to be the original Claude) walked down the stairs and started singing with Gavin. There is was: original composer, current Claude and original Claude. Worlds collided. Generation X, Y, and Z became one. There was a woman, maybe in her 50’s or 60’s, sitting behind me with her eyes clasped shut so tightly and this nostalgic smile on her face. I could only assume she was imagining the first time she saw the musical while she listened to the performance.
This was the last day of the film festival part of CMJ and “Finding Elliot Smith” was the final documentary. Ali, Jace, John Scott, and I headed back to Norwood to catch the film. It was pretty good, it really focused on his friends and on the fact that Elliot’s fiance, Jennifer Chibo, did not murder Elliot Smith. Come of Elliot’s Oregon friends really bashed Los Angeles and blamed the city for Elliot Smith demise and fall back into drugs. Overall the film was pretty good.
I originally didn’t think I’d make it to all the shows Friday night since I was feeling pretty shitty, but after getting some coffee into my system and visiting an Australian Bar that was overly crowded I mustered up the energy and made it to The Bowry Ballroom. There was a great showcase this night, most notable Temper Trap and Portugal. The man. I missed most of Temper Trap but saw Portugal. The man. It was a great set and The Bowry Ballroom mixer was really on for the show. Portugal not only had great sound quality but they also had so much energy, even though John stopped at one point to tell us how sick they all are right now. Their last song (before the encore) was a great 8 or 9-minute medley; this made the crowd go berserk. It was fucking awesome. It was a great way to end my first CMJ experience.
Note to future CMJ go’ers: wash your hands and take zinc.
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Day 3: Thursday October 22nd
Today was College Day at CMJ, so I started the day with the Music Director’s Summit. This was actually quite a nice panel (surprising for CMJ) and listening to everything the panelists had to say I realized KSCR is doing pretty good! I did write down some ideas that might improve the station more.
I saw the “Footsteps in Africa” documentary as part of CMJ’s Film Festival. It documented the life, mainly through traditional music, song, and dance of the nomadic Tuareg tribe. The documentary was really interesting, especially for me because one of my life dreams is to be paid to travel Africa while recording different tribal and village music.
After the film I headed back to NYU to catch a panel about songwriting “scenes” in different cities. Of course, the panel didn’t end up discussing this and I found myself bored out of my mind. I’m sorry to be blunt, but this year’s CMJ panels were below par. Way below par. So far below par that even with a telescope the par line is still light years away.
Via Tania played at Le Poisson Rouge and she’s one of my favorite musicians right now and has been doing pretty well on the Top 200 charts, so I headed to check her out. I was able to catch Choir of Young Believers who played before her. They were great live, so great that if we could bring them to KSCR it would up our coolness factor (HINT HINT HINT). Via Tania’s live performance was pretty bad, I left before her set was over. Later that night one of her promoters emailed me asking about any feedback I had on Via Tania’s album, here’s what I had to say:
“Hey Kevin,
I absolutely LOVE the Via Tania album "Moon Sweet Moon." I think it's beautiful and fresh and wonderful. It's like rainbows, but with muted colors. It's like puppy dogs, but in the pound. It's beautiful with just enough sad.
I saw her play live at CMJ and was rather disappointed, though. Her live show did not live up to the album. I don't know if she was tired or if the venue was not right for her, but I felt the performance was flat, her voice did not shine and there was absolutely no energy. This hurts her as an artist, because I had pulled a bunch of people into the show with me, raving about how magnificent she is and they left early because they were bored and uninterested. Lost potential fans.”
This is not a show I’d wish upon KSCR.
The next stop was The Delancey, right next to the Williamsburg bridge, to see The Antlers. Getting into The Antlers was such a clusterfuck of an experience. The line might as well have stretched into Brooklyn, but I was fourth, almost touching the velvet rope. The showcase was full of great bands, such as Suckers and Delorean, but I really just wanted to see The Antlers. After a lot of annoying waiting around and watching other CMJ’ers bullshitting and trying to trick the bouncer, I made it into the venue. I went downstairs to watch Delorean finish but the room was so stuffy and the crowd was so smelly that I had to go upstairs and wait for the room to not only clear out but hopefully gain some ventilation.
The Antlers finally went on an hour and a half late and played a shortened set. Pitchfork actually wrote about this show, it’s an interesting article, and the addressed the fact that some of the bands took liberties on how long they should take to set up and through off the showcase.
But the music, the music: The Antlers were great. I was completely sober for this show but they were like weed for me. Their music swirled above my head and I felt like I had an out of body experience. Granted, I was getting sick at this point in CMJ and had a fever and maybe was heading towards delirium, but nonetheless The Antlers put on a stellar performance.
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The showcase began with Warpaint, a nice surprise. In fact, this is a band that we should try to get to play a KSCR Presents show (hint hint).
We caught some of the Darlings and some of The Black Hollies in the basement of the venue, a tiny space (max is probably 95 people, maybe) that allows for intimacy and annoyingly crowded pathways.
After the Terrorbird party I headed up a few blocks to the Mercury Lounge to catch The XX. After the debacle with Atlas Sound I made sure to arrive early. Even at two and a half hours before show time the line was a block long. By the time we entered the line curled for blocks around the neighborhood.
Lia Ices began the set and I immediately loved them. They are another band that I didn’t get to approach but we should definitely bring them to KSCR (HINT HINT). CMJ describes her as “experimental folk that resonates from her chilling vocals and arrangements.”
Next was Javelin, a strange mix with Lia Ices and The XX. Javelin, “island influence and a Casio keyboard dominate hand clappy hip hop,” was interesting, employing cool vocal decoder effects straight through the mic.
Finally, The XX came on and dominated the room. The twenty year olds quietly and confidently lulled us into the airy space that the band created. They opened with “Crystallized,” quickly asserting their influence and moved on to more songs to complete their hour set.
After The XX I planned to see Jenn Grant at Googie’s Lounge, the upstairs venue at The Living Room, located only a few blocks from the Mercury Lounge. I had two and half hours to kill before, though, so I set up shop in a vegetarian organic food store café and drank a soy chai tea while serendipitously running into two Israelis who entertained me for quite some time.
Downstairs in The Living Room was some loud thrasher band, but upstairs in Googie’s Lounge, located behind large velvet curtains, was a small area equipped with rugs, couches, drinks, and singer songwriters. I climbed the steps, pushed back the curtains, and entered a whole new world.
When I arrived Ruth Minnikin, Halifax native like Jenn Grant, was still doing her set. I set up shop right in front of her at a table by myself. Ruth’s set was fine, but it was like all Halifax native female singer songwriters I’ve heard; cute Meghan Smith. It’s cute, it’s happy; it’s sunflowers and fields of high school sweethearts. It made me nervous, wondering if Jenn Grant was going to be too much of a [artist who takes pictures of babies in cute outfits] picture.
But Jenn Grant wasn’t any of that. She was perfect. She was able to fill every frequency, every piece of open space, yet leave ions of emptiness at the same time. Everything melted away as she played and she became the center of my world. The trasher bass hits from down stairs seemed to disappear for just a few minutes as she dominated any free amoeba of an emotion that was available in New York.
Her live presence set me back a bit, though. Her music is so intimate and I had imagined her as a darker more brooding songwriter; dark hair, emaciated, and quiet. I wanted her to be the mysterious women that I imagined each week as I spun “Echoes” on Kosher for Kollege. Instead a blonde haired, wholesome Novia Scotian in a blue sundress sang and tried to be cute and funny, which she is, but it took away from the deep [insert something] of her music. She made up silly anecdotes and followed each song with a couple meek “thank yous,” sometimes saying “thank you” before the last note had finished ringing, before I was ready to let go of the song.
But there was as certain mystery to her, I guess. She knows something we don’t, because when she sings the world is lost, no matter what banter she had followed the song with, once she sang the world narrowed and all we saw and all we knew and all we breathed and all we dreamed was Jenn Grant. She was sharing with us something that is from a place even deeper than her heart. She’s sharing emotions that we don’t even know how to access. With a violin, a guitar, and her voice, Jenn Grant creates an army.
For her last song, she came out into the center of the room (if you can call it a room, it was maybe 12 feet wide and 30 feet long, which included a stage, a sound booth, a bathroom, and kitchen) and played a miniature guitar and sang for us, completely acoustic. But the music downstairs was too loud and drowned her out. So she sat in a chair and had us cram around her, inches from her guitar. And then it happened again. The world around us melted away and all we could see what Jenn Grant, pouring to us everything we wanted yet nothing we could handle. The thrasher band downstairs went silent in our minds. I looked around at everyone’s faces. Some people seemed on the brink of tears, and the men who had seemed so disinterested were spell bound. When they caught my glance they pulled out of their trance, acting as if they hadn’t been as affected as they were. I myself nearly broke down a few times.
Maybe I was just in “one of those moods.” It could have been that I was in as melancholy a state as her music since I was traveling around NY alone at this point, surrounded by couples who couldn’t keep their hands off each other while forcibly dwelling on my past relationship. Whatever it was, Jenn Grant amazed me and left me yearning for more.
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After being lost in Queens I finally made my way to the Chelsea International Hostel to drop off my luggage and head to NYU to pick up my CMJ badge. Not even taking a second to breathe I immediately left with Ali to find the Spectre meet and greet at Hi Fi, a bar on Avenue A somewhere.
After being lost for about an hour we finally made it there and received free drinks and goody bags. It was great to see the promoters’ faces when for months I’ve only heard their sultry voices. Eric from Spectre, Grahm from [a man etc], and Canada from Pirate! After sufficiently paying our dues we headed off to try to catch Atlas Sound, the long awaited concert of CMJ. We made it to the venue, Le Poisson Rouge, early only to find out that no more CMJ badge holders were allowed in. Bummed, we made a new game plan.
We headed straight down town to The Suffolk to see Fool’s Gold. Arriving there two hours early we got our hands stamped and walked a few blocks down to eat a great NY pizza place. (As a sidenote I want to point out that after all the pizza I’ve consumed in New York I have to admit that the state definitely has something to brag about.) Ali and I arrived back at the venue and sat through some of the showcase already going on. The bands were awful. Ear shatteringly awful. So awful that we slept through some of them. The venue itself was awful. G-d awful. The power could not support two guitars, a vocal mic, and a drum set. For one punk band the circuit overloaded four times until they gave up. But we really wanted to see Fool’s Gold and it wasn’t until 12:30 in the morning that we were informed they had cancelled. CMJ Fail.
Just around 8 o' clock, we headed over to Brooklyn to catch Atlas Sound w/Broadcast and the guys that opened for them.
Selmanaries (the aforementioned "guys.") underwhelmed. But that may have been a keenly planned trap orchestrated by Broadcast. Here's the setup.
So there you are feeling underwhelmed after those "guys." All of a sudden, the heavy beats and noise rock starts, accompanied by a trippy-as-hell abstract video installation mind-game thing.
I gotta be honest. My first thought was along the lines of "what the fuck?" and my second thought was to flee for my life. The second thought was supported by the earth-shaking bass. I abandoned my friends Maura and Ali and headed to the my safety zone - the men's room. Are you kidding? The bass was not only earth-shaking, but also below-the-earth-toilet shaking. Shit, these Broadcast kids are powerful. I returned to the show and enjoyed the band and their video which may have been outtakes from the tape in The Ring. I was convinced I was being brainwashed. Broadcast finished, and my paranoia aside, were pretty impressive.
Enter Bradford Cox, in what was one of the strangest and most engrossing shows I have witnessed. He started off by tearing into some tracks off Logos, before taking a quick banter break. I had this feeling like I was witnessing something special; he is a very sincere performer. That's easy to appreciate these days. My favorite track from the new album, "Walkabout" got a fascinating treatment: slowed-down, folk-tinged, and equally impressive as the studio version, I was completely invested in the show at this point. The thing is, it's not unique for me to be invested in a show. It happens all the time.
But that's where Cox really started to set himself apart. I'll make it quick, but reread a couple of time for effect. After starting a Velvet Underground cover that was "worth the wait" (there had been some time between songs), he promptly stopped the band, suggesting that that were off key. He proceeded to take requests from the audience; some Atlas Sound songs (c'mon people), Rock Around the Clock, The Monster Mash (he almost played this, but claimed to have forgotten the tab sheet for it). Here, he made iconic rock poses for pictures, played the intro to "Hattie Carroll" and basically used a couple songs' worth of time to hone his standup routine. Honestly, it was pretty damn funny and a unique break from music. He finished his set (which included the complete VU song), but the five-minute comedy break still sticks out as a memorable and enjoyable part of the show.
The set was really strong, and very different from a Deerhunter set (he is Deerhunter's frontman if you didn't know.) There was some folky stuff (harmonica included!), some psychy stuff, some noisy stuff, but it all put a new face on a familiar figure. He also wasn't wearing a dress tonight.
The whole time, all I could think is: Bradford Cox is almost a genius. He's the nerdy best friend you would think was a genius if you hadn't seen them behave under the slight influence of alcohol.
I'll get some pictures of him up tomorrow.
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KSCR has officially arrived at CMJ!
Well, 3/5 of us anyways. How does that compromise thing work again?
After navigating a sophisticated network of planes, trains, and automatic stairs, we found our selves in the heart of New York City! Or maybe the appendix. We were deprived of food and sleep. Still, in typical KSCR fashion, we set out undaunted...and in the wrong direction.
After consulting with iPhone GPS, we got to check-in and picked up our stinkin' badges. Success!
So, here we are. KSCR Los Angeles is taking over NYC and we're gonna give you the play-by-play right here at Bandwidth. Stay tuned.The best CMJ shows are the unofficial ones in the daytime at tiny venues. It's actually fun finding the bathroom in the basement, the stage on the second floor, and with the ground and mezzanine it makes a total of four floors begging to be explored. The bands usually float around too for a short, friendly chat. Case in point, Brooklyn Vegan threw another show at Piano's (old legitimate Piano sign still decorates facade) and the line-up was difficult to pass up: The Muslims, Japanese Motors, Pretty and Nice, Friendly Fires, Crystal Antlers, etc.
I was able to squeeze in an interview with The Muslims, recent L.A. transplants from San Diego, who I had seen at the Echo unexpectedly in the summer. Their sound is garage rock-ish, reminiscent of several key rock acts of past decades, but refreshing and new. We tried hard to make my tiny travel recorder work among weekday street noise, and hopefully the quality is good enough for me to post when I return. The band has been super busy at CMJ, but the too-short interview is hopefully the precursor to a real, grueling, hot-seat style interview in the studio.
For playing so early in the day, Boston boy band Pretty and Nice really got me in the dancey mood. They have extraordinary energy, joking about their malfunctioning equipment, soliciting a snare drum from the crowd, and playing really edgy punky pop (not pop punk). They toed the line between rebellious and out of tune, but luckily stayed on the first side.
I had no interest in Eagle Seagull at all. Don't get me wrong, the keyboards were great and so were the violin solos, but I really saw nothing special with their music or performance. Six musicians produced a really full sound with great coordination, but somehow the creativity was lost. The band utilized repetitive hooks and relied on the talent of the vocalist, who could not produce enough variety to perpetuate interest.
In the evening, I went to Webster Hall to finally catch one of Fujiya and Miyagi's performances at CMJ. I didn't know until I saw the massive line of teenz that Crystal Castles was actually the headliner. The earlier comment about enjoying small venues is directly related to the fact that this place was pretty darn big and packed (with annoying, illicitly drunk teens).
Lymbyc System opened the night, and man, I have been so lucky catching worthwhile openers. I doubt this is P.C., but the band is two unassuming-looking guys with Jew-fros playing shoegazey, experimental electronic. They reminded me a whole lot of Tortoise, only less Jazzy. While at times they sounded like a tiny music box lullaby, L.S. definitely brought the volume and the beat in, and the show peaked in several climaxes. The scrawnier guy played keyboards, and was obviously trained on piano, while the slightly less scrawny fella played both drums and bells. They're on tour with Crystal Castles.
Whomadewho was hilarious, wacky, and totally lovable. I will scan my drawings of them later, but for now, just look at their myspace. The dude played guitar with a Heineken bottle. Need I say more?
Now, I have never seen a live video of Fujiya and Miyagi or, well, even a photo. I had no clue what to expect. The best part of the show was seeing how the sounds were made and who was making them. Surprises:
1) The guitarist is the main vocalist, but the keyboardist and bass player contribute as well. It's pretty subtle on the album, and I couldn't tell if the singer just layered his own vocals.
2) The guitarist is amazing. It's subtle on the album, but F&M really let those solos shine.
3) The album sounds so cohesive that you could believe one person was recording everything, but really it's just almost-perfect coordination.
Every day has been discovery, disappointment, and pure satisfaction. My ears are aching, even after wearing earplugs, and probably from the HUGE speakers at Webster. I left before Crystal Castles not just because I've seen them before, but because I was going to strangle the kids in the crowd. Whatever I.D. check lady gave these young babies liquor should get the boot. They yelled "Crystal Castles!!!" during Fujiya and Miyagi's set and kept talking about how much they sucked. FAIL.
(Pictures and stuff soon. Sorry I write so much. Sorry this is unedited. More tomorrow!)
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CMJ Day Two: The KSCR folk were able to wake a little earlier, a sign that we are adjusting to the time difference. I trekked on over to Cake Shop in the lower east side, which is a two-floored bar that also serves vegan pastries. Terrorbird's showcase included Frontier Ruckus, Rainbow Arabia, Starfucker, Shugo Tokumaru, Faunts, Tobacco, Women, Takka Takka, Marine Stern, and School of Seven Bells.
Cake Shop is sort of a cruddy place to see bands. The visibility is horrible, such that if you are 8 rows back you can't see anything. I pushed and slid my way through the crowd, only to catch a slight glimpse of someone in the band.
Shugo Tokumaru was a highlight of the show AND of the day for me. Their music would make an excellent soundtrack to just about any foreign film. The combination of Japanese vocals, French-pop-ish accordions and elements of folk/bluegrass was really something striking. Shugo Tokumaru's vocals weren't dominating, nor detracting from the music. I'm sure the parallel has been drawn with Beirut, although the two are quite different (no horns, for one). The pacing was really compelling: he and his band made beautiful, nostalgic music go fast!
Tobacco was exactly what I expected, and a little more. Musically, the set was not much different from the album. Perhaps aware that watching people do a little ditty on the keyboard ain't the most exciting thing to watch, the band set up a corresponding video show with grandmas eating ice cream, a montage of women in pornos (without nudity), vintage exercise videos, and girls blowing bubbles. The two members were hilarious to watch, sporting black hoodies and serious faces (which broke later with a sound gaffe).
All in all, I was totally satisfied with the Terrorbird event (yeah, free Sparks) and took a little break before the Carpark/Paw Tracks showcase at Le Poisson Rouge (I think it means red fish). I am still recovering from the event, and deciphering my notes which indicate that I had very strong (negative) feelings about the bands. Rings was the worst thing I have ever put myself through. To say something broad, and keep in mind I left after four acts, the show was filled with experimental bands who couldn't quite justify the use of cacophany and painful pitches OR were simple because they were unskilled.
Tickley Feather was a disappointment, and I was underwhelmed. Annie's vocals were the highlight: delicate, ultra-feminine, and very bird-like. She channeled a very eerie and whimsical mood, and it was hard to imagine those sounds coming out of a person and not a keyboard. Overall, though, the product was pretty and not beautiful, and the show was unique but not special. Of course, it was enjoyable but very much lacking depth and variety; I could not imagine where else they could go with this.
So, I couldn't wait for Beach House, but I'm sure I'll see them around. Pictures and interviews soon, when I'm not blogging from an Internet Cafe.
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As learned by last night, the key to CMJ is to commit to one venue for the evening. I trekked to the Music Hall of Williamsburg, an amazing 3-floor venue for the Brooklyn Vegan showcase. Somehow, I stood throughout 5 acts, albeit my legs were shaking, my feet were aching, and I was totally dehydrated.
The Sammies were unfortunately an unpleasant start to the night. The dorky four piece from Charlotte were the typical pop-punk outfit with lead, rhythm, bass, and drums. Charming as they were, the music was utterly forgettable--predictable and repetitive--but well-rehearsed. Their best songs were near the end with some obvious southern rock 'n roll influence, but overall, I liked the karaoke band at Arlene's better (see: Jeff's blog).
Shearwater was a super awesome, older fivesome playing dreamy, somber, country-inspired rock. The highlight was Thor, their drummer/clarinet player who had a sleeveless blouse, bangs, and one pigtail braid. On stage sat two keyboards, a tambourine, banjo, trumpet, three bass guitars (two electric, one standup [with and without the bow]), acoustic and electric guitar, and the aforementioned clarinet and drums. They were a pleasant surprise.
Ponytail totally took me back to L.A. 'cos they remind me of so many Smell bands. Four kids playing the funnest noise pop/tropical-y punk is fronted by this little androgenous yelling kid who had some sort of ADD. The energy on stage just permeated through the crowd, and the night really began to take off. I loved seeing two Telecasters battling. Ponytail plays well-coordinated, well-practiced pop.
Restless for Jens Lekman, I thought I would not survive Passion Pit, but I actually was pretty absorbed in their set. Five of the cutest boys from Cambridge, MA played (suprisingly not annoying) keyboard/synth dominated electronic pop. The lead singer looked like a skinnier, hip Booger from Revenge of the Nerds and had a voice like a (less annoying) version of the Mars Volta dude. Three keyboards alternating with bass and guitar made for dreamy but energetic, fun dance music.
I have to admit, when the moment finally came, and Jens Lekman appeared like a god descending from the sky, in a pink parrot sweater, I was disappointed. I suppose I expected more singing from the "singing DJ" gig, but the set was still tons of fun. The people around me had been standing up for more than four hours at this point, but managed to dance their feet until they were numbed.
Jens was set-up on the far back corner of the stage. His pale complexion was reflecting 100% of the spotlights, so that he glowed orange, pink, and green while mouthing Mariah Carey's Fantasy and doing his characteristic old man clapping. The point was hammered home that Jens likes American female pop... a lot.
All in all, Brooklyn Vegan put on an excellent showcase and I may go to their other events this week. Tonight, I must choose between Tobacco and Fujiya and Miyagi at the Mercury Lounge, or the Carpark/Paw Tracks showcase (Beach House, Tickley Feather) at Le Poisson Rouge. I will blog again tomorrow, probably from this $2/20 minutes computer. Missin' you, L.A.
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The first in a series of articles from the KSCR contingent at the CMJ Music Marathon in New York City.
We all have a pretty strong idea of who we are as social creatures -- how outgoing we are, which lines we'll cross -- but there's an interesting mix of energy, encouragement, and ample liquor that can help us discover how inaccurate our self-images can be, how different a person can be hiding inside. That was certainly the case for the crowd at Arlene's Grocery last night.
In the Lower East Side grocery store turned rock venue, Monday night is karaoke night, but calling what happens at Arlene's karaoke is kind of like calling Times Square an intersection.
Arlene's offering differs from the familiar Koreatown karaoke experience in two ways:
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- You've got an audience -- no, a crowd. Not a bunch of Japanese businessmen trying to drink away the day either; these are the kind of diehard rockers who always seem to pose a few articles of clothing during an extra-wicked solo. And they're all cheering for you.
- Forget TVs and tinny PAs; you're accompanied by a full live band that'll play you through any song in "the Bible," a 4-inch binder filled with lyric printouts, from memory.