CMJ 2009: The Final Dispatch

Though CMJ officially ended this past Saturday night, nothing could have been better* than marking its unofficial close than the metal- and rain-soaked festivities of Friday evening. First off, I attended a Slayer siesta hosted by Metal Insider and scored some fine Simon & Schuster swag courtesy of my favorite quipper, Bram T. And though I'd already been privy to hearing World Painted Blood, Slayer's forthcoming masterpiece, there was something really comforting about listening to it played loudly over a club's PA whilst sipping on free PBRs. Also previewed were "Playing With Dolls," a creepy cluster of vignettes inspired by WPB songs that'll be featured on the deluxe edition, and Gallows' short film, Grey Britain.

From there, the heavy hitters migrated into Chinatown to witness the showstopping Relapse Records/Brooklyn Vegan extravaganza. Headlined by Misery Index and featuring no less than seven of the label's finest, it was nonetheless difficult for the remaining acts to overshadow the opening salvo from PA's Gloominous Doom. "I can't even describe them, just go watch them," advised Relapse's Dave Ehlrich. And he was right.

Unable to pigeonhole Gloominous Doom into any genre, the best I can do is "bipolar-core." Punctuating their plentiful grinding riffs and bellowing growls were rhythms that evoked surf rock, ska, reggae and death metal. Quite unique, to be sure. What else, besides their erratic sound made them so memorable, you ask? Maybe it was their embrace and liberal usage of the Claw, ie: the Invisible Orange. Or perhaps it was the fact that vocalist Jeff Kruppenbach closed their set by playing a cowbell ON HIS PROSTHETIC LEG. I can't make this stuff up; bravo to you, Jefe.



That finale was hard to top, but the rest of the bands did their best. Salome, Howl and Black Anvil all put on intense performances for the packed-in crowd, but for many, it was Revocation's blistering death metal set that stood out the most. Though I'd already witnessed them perform at a Tones of Death event a few months prior, the positive reaction to their label debut, Existence is Futile—plus the audience's crackling energy—really pushed the Boston trio over the top to triumph. Check 'em out immediately.

With all due respect to Misery Index, the free-flowing booze had taken its toll and I found myself upstair in Fontana's main room—in an impromptu therapy session with Ben from Metal Sucks (Ben Sucks?) and Earache Anthony—for the majority of their set. I mean, c'mon, how could they have possibly topped the cowbell moment?

And though CMJ's lineup this year wasn't its finest, there's still something to be said galavanting around NYC under the influence of free tequila, opening your mind to new music, seeing bands from all across the world, and meeting lots of new people to make out with. See you next year, fuckers!

Shout-outs to all of the above mentioned, plus: Grim Kim, Relapse Bob, Dan Rodriguez, Justina V., Munsey, Fred BvBBG and the Cycle Sluts From Hell. If my brain were bleeding, you'd be my tourniquets.

More CMJ photos can be found on my Flickr stream, and you can always follow my real-time delusions on Twitter.


*OK, maybe being on the Eyehategod boat show would have been a better ending. Que sera sera.

CMJ Day Three: Quickie Recap

The weather's taking a turn for the worse, my head is still all sorts of groggy... and I'm about to go do it all again.

Yesterday's keyword was "proximity," as in the spacial closeness that connected the Brooklyn Vegan day show at Piano's with the Tee Pee Records event at Cake Shop. Though Hull disappointingly cancelled their set at the latter, I was able to check out FL's Surfer Blood instead. Sounding like the little cousins of Happy Hollow-era Cursive with a hint of Vampire Weekend, the baby band did well with their catchy indie rock cocktail.

After that, I bounced over to Tee Pee and caught Naam, whose intense stoner brown sound threatened to split my hungover skull in half, but luckily both day parties had plenty of Vitamin Water to give away and soon all was right (and loud!) with the world.

Shortly after, I found myself back at Pianos to see—actually, since it was so packed and I'm so short, it was more like hear—the much-hyped Duchess Says, who completely blew me away with their heavy, almost gabba-electronic sound and whirling, multifarious vocals. Go check 'em out, as Nebula, who were busy trying to turn back the clock to the '70s next door, had nothing on them.

Finally, it was time for Priestess before heading out to Skateboard Marketing's showcase for Texas Hippie Coalition. Not sure how these guys got their name, as they looked like a biker gang (replete with matching black leather vests), but the imposing group did their best Pantera tribute, complete with shout-outs to the late, great Dimebag Darrell.

That's it for now... heading out to the Relapse showcase later. Not sure what's on the agenda for tomorrow, but it's altogether possible that CMJ will be ignored in favor of this intriguing Dumpling Festival on the LES.

For more quickie updates, why not follow me on Twitter? And the Flickr set just keeps growing.

Saul Williams @ CMJ

Sometimes it's better to forgo the unknown and stick with a sure bet; and last night's programming at CMJ inspired just that. Though there were a few bands I was curious to see (like Bang Bang Eche and Atlas Sound), I decided instead to go see Saul Williams headline the Afropunk showcase at Gramercy Theatre.

For those of you not in the know, Saul Williams is a brilliantly prolific singer, musician and poet who embraces electronica, hip-hop, spoken word and rock—then douses it with a glittery aesthetic that David Bowie would be proud of.

Last night's performance did not dissapoint. Though there was some confusion about the start time, Williams wound up performing for more than two hours as the audience literally would not let him stop. The result? We were treated to a broad range of his discography, including heavy helpings of his acclaimed collaboration with Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor, The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust! As demand for more grew, Williams even premiered a new, never-before-heard track that remained in the vain of his bass-heavy, electro-industrial rap style.

When the show actually did end—after what seemed like two encores—Williams jumped into the audience and proceeded to hug the remaining faithful, as if we were in a receiving line.

Look up Saul Williams, you won't regret it.



As for me, I'm off for a full day of shows today. If you're in NYC, stop by Cake Shop for Tee Pee Records' free day show, featuring stoner favorites Hull, Naam, Nebula and Priestess. You may even get some free Colt 45 for your efforts. It starts at noon and goes until 6 pm.

Until tomorrow...

CMJ 2009 - Day One

New York's CMJ Music Marathon has been an institution for nearly 30 years, originally conceived to help introduce new artists to both the industry and the college radio world. At its height, it was a prestigious event that featured top indie acts like PJ Harvey, Mars Volta, and Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs. But then a few years back, the industry's focus really began shifting to Austin's SxSW megafest, forcing CMJ to go back to its roots of presenting raw talent rather than showpiece big names.

And that's not neccessarily a bad thing. Sure, it might be fun to have bragging rights to some exclusive over-the-top event (A Night of Nothing featuring NIN at Irving Plaza, anyone?), but the lack of big names has really forced CMJ attendees to sift through and actually discover new music. My first finds? White Denim and the Happy Hollows.

I'd heard lots of good buzz about White Denim before I found out they were on the bill for The Syndicate's annual Conflict of Interest party. And while I expected them to be some indie rock flavor of the month, I was instead blown away by their Led Zeppelin-influenced white man's blues which was levereged by an obvious love of indie punk, a la Jay Reatard. Simply amazing.

Then last night, after already being elated from meeting Ratt's Stephen Pearcy and Warren DiMartini at a filming of Vh1 Classic's That Metal Show (more on that later), I went to Lit to catch the Happy Hollows. The CA-based trio, led by coffeehouse crush Sarah Negahdari, put on a frenetic performance of poppy indie rock—dare I say, power pop—and brought a smile to the face of every emaciated hipster in the house. Negahdari's demeanor, not to mention her near-fall into the door adjacent to Lit's stage was adorably endearing, and for some reason, reminded me of the late Gilda Radner. And, of course, their name seems to be a Cursive reference, so I'm sold.

Below are videos from both bands, and I've started a Flickr set of my CMJ exploits. Look for more posts as the festival continues!

CMJ: Days 4 & 5

Holy crap, my ears are still ringing.

Instead of launching on a Wednesday as it usually does, CMJ started on a Tuesday this year (thereby shifting the annual Conflict of Interest party to Monday) and the total amount of party nights topped off at six. Oy! Seriously, unless it's shopping with someone else's money, I don't think I want to do anything for six days straight. That said, here are the highlights from the last two days of CMJ Music Marathon 2008.

On Friday, I decided to start the night off with some decidedly non-CMJ activities. Specifically, I attended The Happy Corp's Oval Office Happy Hour at Niagra, which offered $1 Dewars specials and a chance to pose for a "presidential portrait." I was strapped into a straightjacket-like contraption that suddenly dressed me in a blazer, dress shirt and tie, and I did my best "Metal President" pose. Look forward to seeing that up here soon.

After that, I walked over to the Heavy Hitter showcase to see Arsonists Get All The Girls and their big draw, I Wrestled A Bear Once. The former provided some stellar math rock and gave my ATL indie-rock homeboy, Aaron "B-Man" Byrd, his first mosh pit encounter. For someone who almost got kicked in the face with a kung-fu roundhouse, he seemed pretty into it. Which is more than either of us could say for ...Bear. In fact, I think the name may have actually referred to the group's singer. She looked pretty tough.

From there, it was off to see Dungen, the Swedish psychedelic lounge band—who perform entirely in Swedish—at the Music Hall of Williamburg. For some, hearing non-English singing may seem distracting, but to my humble, worn-out ears, the mellow vocals served as just another instrument keeping time with the electric piano, guitars, tambourine and occasional flute (yes, really). For all I know, they could have been singing "Kill the Jews" (I doubt they were), but I'd still be into it. And I wasn't alone, the packed house did their best Deadhead dance-offs in response to melodic tracks from Ta Det Lugnt and Tio Bitar, but went completely apeshit when Dungen started playing "Panda." Though I thought about staying for Cheeseburger, the show ran late and I wanted to get back to money-makin' Manhattan (can we still call it that now that the economy is fucked?).



As much as I wanted to sleep in on rainy Saturday, I had to will myself into putting on makeup in time for The Syndicate's metal happy hour at Fontana's, which started at 3 pm. It's a good thing the V2 vodka sponsoring the event contained taurine and caffeine (not to mention sweet, sweet alcohol), otherwise I wouldn't have been able to last the day. The musical entertainment started off with ex-Life of Agony drummer Sal Abruscato's new band, My Mortality. Pretty decent hard rock that could easily be the opening act for Daughtry—and I don't mean that as a diss. I regrettably missed Warship and all the subsequent acts to catch Made Out of Babies and Wetnurse at Crash Mansion.



I have no idea what was up with MOOB's singer, Julie Christmas... maybe she was cycling, or pissed off that she had to play the douche mecca—or even that her openers, Patent Pending, sounded like a shitty version of old Murder 1 (or Mucky Pup, holler!), but punctuating their intense, short set were rants like "I was really hoping you'd all leave by now," and the set closer "Go fuck yourselves... no really!" Damn, girl.



I only stayed a little while longer to see Wetnurse before heading uptown to what I thought would be the perfect climax to CMJ: my beloved Duke Spirit at Irving Plaza. Unfortunately, because headliners Scars on Broadway managed to break up already, the show was cancelled and we were left uninformed. Imagine my dismay when arriving at the venue only to see the place shuttered: EPIC FAIL! Sure, I had enough time to cab it back to Fontana's to see God Forbid and Darkest Hour, but hunger and exhaustion took over and eventually led me on autopilot to my apartment.

Somehow, I managed to get though the entire week without seeing any bands with the word "Crystal" in their moniker, nor did I attend any gifting suites. Oh well... there's always next year. Thank you, and goodnight.

CMJ: Days 2 & 3

Considering how late I'm posting this, I think you can tell I'm getting tired. For a hermit motherfucker like myself, being out every night since Monday is quite an anomaly, and I find myself losing track of time. Remember that Bon Jovi line where he can tell the day by the bottle that he drinks? I know Wednesday has come and gone because a new Village Voice has appeared, and it still must be a weekday since all my Facebook friends' statuses complain of working through their hangovers. TGIF, people!

On Wednesday, despite a deficit of hot shows, I made it out to see Deerhoof at Irving Plaza. Though I can't say I'd ever sit down and listen to the San Francisco indie-pop darlings on record, it was a joy to watch drummer Greg Saunier bash away at his minimal kit. Seriously, this guy went off like Animal with a hummingbird's speed.



Thursday was truly a marathon. Upon lots of buzz that Metal Blade's Bison B.C. were "the Canadian Mastodon," I made a point of seeing them at Knitting Factory. They were pretty good, but definitely not anywhere in the same league at my Atlanta neighbors. Soon after, metalcore stalwarts Left To Vanish hit the stage. The fat dude-friendly group (seriously, are they sponsored by KFC? Their fans are HUGE) put on an intense show anchored by their very own drum prodigy. This kid looked like he was 100 lbs. soaking wet and got carded every day of his life, but he knocked out blast beats as good as Nick Barker's.



I only caught bits and pieces of Envy On The Coast, Tombs and Psyopus before tagging along with some new friends to the Bowery Poetry Club, which was hosting a night of Irish bands; and where I caught the fledgling power-pop/emo act, Fighting With Wire. Better live than on record, the band rocked out through a fun set highlighted by the single, "Everyone Needs A Nemesis" while their fans proved once again that white people can't dance (or jump, unless they're being hoisted arrhythmically by bigger Irish people).



From there it was off to the Photo Finish after-party at Beauty Bar to watch more white people dance to Lil' Wayne's "Lollipop" and Rihanna's "Umbrella." Will I ever get sick of her song? Nah.

That's it for now. It's almost time for Happy Corp's presidential happy hour. Two more nights of this; pray for Mojo.



PS: That's me with the beer @ COIX. Hi, Dawn!

CMJ: Day One + TMI

I'll admit it: I refuse to get on Twitter because I'm a habitual, unabashed drunk texter and the last thing in the world I need to do is put it on blast. Also, who gives a fuck what you're having for lunch? Because of this, those precious moments and serendipitous events I experience daily running around NYC go unpublished. Imagine that, fellow narcissists!

Since yesterday was one of those fun, active ones, I figure I'd let y'all in on a day of my dumb life:

8:00 am: Wake up groggy, post-Conflict of Interest to the sound of jackhammers and my kitten, Ava, meowing for a playmate.

9:30 am - 11 am: Email folks in Milan about the Cut&Paste/55DSL project I'm working on. Wonder what the time difference is with Hong Kong so I can avoid panic attack.

11:30: Reviewing Young Widows questions for Decibel interview later. Listening to catalog helps.

2:30 pm: Print out CMJ itinerary, interview questions, grab recorder and head to a friend's office. Since I don't have a land line and haven't figured out how to record calls on Skype, I rely on some Shady friends.

2:50: Walk out of Canal St. station to spot Chris March, the heavy-set drag-queen friendly designer from Project Runway, Season 4. Try to make eye contact so I can give acknowledging nod. Refuse to say hello, I am a real New Yorker.

2:55: Arrive at Shady Records; Good thing I've been here before so I know the drill. Knock on metal door and await the giant bodyguard inside to slide open the built-in eye-level slit to see who's there. Speakeasy style, all the way.

3:00: Thank my accommodating pal for letting me use space; set up residence in their vast conference room, surrounded by tons of multi-platinum awards from Eminem, 50 Cent, Dido and G-Unit. It's almost like Lloyd Banks' eyes are following me from his giant framed plaque.

3:00 - 3:25: Interview Evan from Young Widows. Seems more mellow than I expected. I threaten to see Yngwie Malmsteen on Sunday instead of them if they don't play my favorite song of theirs, "Bruised Knees" from their debut, Settle Down City. He remains undeterred.

3:45: Head out, free Vitamin Water in hand, to pick up CMJ badge at a church adjacent to Washington Square Park. Text with Tessa about parties and shows to hit.

4:10: Pass by a homeless woman on 14th Street holding a sign that says "Live Politely." Wish I had a camera; more so, wish people would follow her suggestion.

4:15: See a ton of star trailers and a Panavision truck parked on 3rd Ave. Thank you for helping NY's economy!

5:00-7:30: Pore over invites, materials, emails and determine I'm only going to go the 1000 Knives showcase at Fontana's.

10 pm: Arrive at Fontana's and debate drinking. Start with water before heading to Whiskey town. Soon after, the show "sells out" almost immediately while we queue up to get bracelets. Luckily, my CMJ badge gets me in moments before Seattle's Akimbo take the stage. Not surprisingly, their sound and stage show is reminiscent of their former tour mates, Young Widows. Wonder who did it first? Either way, they play a tight set of rumbling post-hardcore and impress the packed crowd.



12:45 am (?): How do I know Trash Talk are on? I literally feel them rumbling beneath my feet as I stand upstairs getting some air. Head downstairs to find a giant mosh pit has pushed the crowd back. Considering this is their third show of the night, they pack a ton of energy into their short but sweet hardcore set.



1:30-ish: The much-anticipated Bronx are about to take the stage and the place is packed. I always wondered if this LA-based band named themselves after New York's second-worst borough or the eponymous gay sex shop in Amsterdam. Either way, I've always been a fan of their records, but found them boring live both times I've seen them play. Hate to say it, but this raucous gig is changing my mind. Starting out with "White Tar" before launching into "Knifeman" from their forthcoming third album, singer Matt Caughthran acts like the white drugs enthusiast he claims to be, jumping into the audience, falling to the floor and delivering the goods to the rabid audience with his intense performance. Finally, a gritty trash rock band is here to reclaim the throne for LA.



2:30: Find a cab and head home. Note that this truck is probably bigger than my kitchen and I can almost stand up straight in here. Damn, I'm short.

3:15 am: Pass out and wonders what tomorrow will bring.

CMJ: Day 0

CMJ, the war-horse of music conventions, has definitely lost some luster over the years to other conferences like South by Southwest. Still, there's a wonderful tradition of CMJ hosting indie and hard rock bands—and I intend to see as many as I can this year. Hopefully, my brain and body will hold up.

And, per tradition, The Syndicate hosted their 10th annual Conflict of Interest pre-party last night to kick things off. Packed beyond belief, the three-story party held at Rebel (the space formerly known as Goth haven, the Bat Cave) was an excellent first stop to catch up with friends who just arrived in town (Tessa!!), figure out this week's hot shows (yes, I will be at The Bronx tonight) and run into a bunch of unexpected old pals.

I have a theory that most people remember me because I have a weird name (and I've been in the scene forever). So it's especially anxiety-inducing when someone shouts out: "Hey Zena, do you remember me?" and I don't. My usual response if I have no clue is to tell them I probably smoked that memory away, and ask for something to jog my memory. In the case of the man-panions below, Patrick (L) responded: "Yeah, we met at Philly Con. I had a black eye." And that's all it took! [Note the black eye below from that fateful meeting.]



In addition to all the booze, old friends, bathroom lines and free shoes, some artists also played. Anyone remember Rival Schools? Walter Schreifels' post-Quicksand band played, as did ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead, who put in a tight performance. And their old manager (and dare I say, my old protege), Josh, being there only made the show that much more special.

But along with the good, comes the bad. In this case, "bad" consists of ongoing early morning construction work outside my apt/home office. Nothing like going to bed drunk at 3:00 am only to wake up to the sound of jackhammers at 8.

This is going to be a long week...