Tag: live performance

SHOW REVIEW: Dum Dum Girls w/ Widowspeak

Last night, we AudioFemmes visited Music Hall of Williamsburg to see Dum Dum Girls perform a blistering set for a packed audience.  We missed openers Punks On Mars (not too intrigued by that band name, sorry) but caught most of Widowspeak’s set. Below, our innermost thoughts and feelings regarding the spectacle we witnessed. – Eds.

dressed all in white and practically glowing

L: Annie, what did you think of Widowspeak?

A: Well. Here’s the thing: I have a hard time getting on board with singers who sound painfully derivative of someone whom I happen to love, in this case, Mazzy Star. It doesn’t help that Hope Sandoval is still around and making music. In fact, I hear there’s a forthcoming album slated for release this summer. However, independent of the issue of Molly Hamilton’s striking similarities, both sonically and aesthetically, to Mazzy, I have to admit I’m a sucker for dreamy sounding girl-pop.

Widowspeak


L:  Oooh, I had no idea Mazzy Star was putting out new material.  Yet another reason to look forward to summer.  But I digress – we were talking about Widowspeak, and I agree, it is hard not to hear Hope Sandoval when Molly Hamilton opens her mouth.  I’d actually seen them before at Glasslands when they opened for Dirty Beaches roughly a year ago.  They covered Chris Isaak.  I bought the Harsh Realm 7” (white vinyl!  I’m such a sucker for that kind of thing) and I think by now I’ve worn the grooves out.  I mean I’ve had nights where I put on that title track and just pull the needle back over when it’s done playing, and then repeat that about eighty times.  There’s something about the lines “I thought about how it was / I thought about you because / I always think about you” that just gets to me.  It’s definitely the kind of obsessive-minded song that makes playing the shit out of it feel totally appropriate…

 

 

… Seeing that live and knowing to expect it was a highlight for me, but I think that’s where the band excels – in the quieter, more contemplative moments.  I could have sworn they had far fewer members the last time I saw them, and so it was a bit off-putting to have three guys backing her up.  But I understand the need to amp up the performance as they are going out on tour with Dum Dum Girls.Speaking of which…..


A: Yeah, real quick: I would definitely give them another chance, and I often feel differently about a band’s sound in general when I hear the studio recording. You can lend me the 7” next time I come over. Anyway, moving on to the Dum Dum girls.

For me, a band’s first impression often sets the tone of the show, so to speak. And when the Dum Dum girls descended the stairs onto the stage of Music Hall of Williamsburg, decked out in white Grecian drapery and a myriad of fishnet-patterned stockings, I knew immediately, that we were in for a good time. Not to mention we were standing a stone’s throw from the hot new bass player, whose name thus far is unknown to us.


L: This bass player. Woah.  One of the most gorgeous women I think I’ve ever seen.  I was kind of disappointed when I heard their former bass player had been replaced; I thought she was a good representation of someone who isn’t super skinny and is totally sexy and kick ass, and I think it’s nice to see that, especially for people with similar body types.  Not that the new bass player was a twig; she did have some booty.  Whatever girl crushes I might have had on the band before were cemented when they emerged from backstage – every single one of them looked amazing.  I want to go shopping for tights and vintage jewelry with them.  Even if they had sucked, I would have been nearly content to watch them bop around on stage for 45 minutes.  But then they proceeded to totally melt faces.

A: Before I go on about how hard they rocked out, I must say, there’s something novel, in a heavy kind of way, about seeing a band comprised exclusively of women, play so competently and so beautifully. So many bands out there have one or two female members, who are often just eye-candy more than anything else; Or there are female-led groups who have the requisite enigmatic male bass player, or crazy drummer, etc. It’s really rare to see an all chick band like that who fully embrace their femininity and are completely unapologetic for their girliness, and who write songs about falling in and out of love that aren’t sappy and quaint sounding.

L: I agree. I wish it wasn’t such a novelty, but I don’t know if I’ve seen an all female band own a stage like that since Sleater-Kinney.  Maybe Warpaint. Honestly though, with all the bands trying to make it big in Brooklyn you don’t often see anyone, male OR female, playing their instruments as well as the Dums did.  I’d heard their shows were remarkable but I was floored by how good they sounded, how energetic they were, and how cohesively they jammed as a whole.  And I was also in love with their superfans who mouthed along with every word, including a middle-aged dude who was holding a library book the entire time!  I want to know what he was reading.

A: Hmmm. I’m gonna guess some sort of self-help book. Maybe something like, “How to change your life in 5 simple steps”

L: Step One – See the Dum Dum Girls. Life-changing for sure.Step Two – Get an e-reader so you don’t have to carry around heavy volumes to rock concerts.It looked pretty thick, though… I bet it was Game of Thrones or something like that.  He was adorably geeky.

A: Yeah, you’re probably right. That shit is insanely popular right now. I also liked that guy who was scribbling things down on his teeny tiny notepad like his life depended on it.

L: Maybe he was taking notes for his cool blog.

A: Not as cool as our blog.

L: Never!  Although it would be cooler if we could stay on topic.

A: Yeah, we really need to get it together here.

L: Admittedly, I’ve never quite understood the hype surrounding Dum Dum Girls.  Their albums are entertaining for a listen or two, but not usually ones I play over and over again.  That changed for me with the release of the first few singles from Only In Dreams.  Only In Dreams is, in part, a raw chronicle of the emotions lead singer Dee Dee experienced after the passing of her mother.  While their previous material was carefree and and even a bit frivolous, Only In Dreams has fathoms more depth, and that thoughtfulness and truth put it over the edge for me in terms of my admiration for the band.  I even went back to some of their old material, discovering “Take Care of My Baby” from the “He Gets Me High” single and falling absolutely in love with it.

A: Yeah, I never really got heavily into them. Aside from hearing their songs on random playlists here and there I never listened to much. And although I always liked what I did hear, seeing them live really changed my perception of what they are and what they do. Before I feel like my impression was that they’re kind of like a more pop-y iteration of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And while Dee Dee does sound an awful lot like Karen O. in many ways, the songs themselves are decidedly more straightforward–but in a refreshing way–especially to hear live.

L:  I don’t know if I hear the Karen O. thing. In terms of performance and in-your-faceness, I’d say they are certainly of the same ilk. But the confessional nature of Dum Dum’s newer tunes is not a place even Karen would dare go. The live rendition of “Hold Your Hand” was particularly moving.  Knowing where Dee Dee’s coming from when she sings the words “I wish it wasn’t true but there’s nothing I can do except hold your hand” makes them that much more powerful, but its a sentiment that hits deep with anyone who has lost someone close to them.  After playing those last chords Dee Dee kind of looked down at her guitar and swallowed hard and I remember being amazed that she had the courage to write the song in the first place, let alone play it before a huge crowd.  It was very poignant. 
A: I think I actually started crying a little bit during that song, because you could tell she was working so hard to keep it together. My heart really goes out to her, and I’m stunningly impressed with her fortitude and self-composure in the face of such recent adversity. Seeing her perform it was one of the many highlights. The most memorable highlight, however, for me, was the encore, for which they played “Coming Down”.  It’s a quieter song, and more sophisticated then some of the upbeat pop-rock stuff they do that seems to be their signature style. I guess I like to be surprised sometimes, even if it comes at the very end of a set. And the added effect of the disco ball lent it a dream-like ambiance that made the encore actually feel like a send-off–which is to me, what encores are all about. In any case, I would definitely go see them live again.

L: I loved “Coming Down” as well.  It was perfect as a set closer lyrically and melodically; like watching the last embers of a fire die before it goes out.  And I love me some disco ball – it burst to life at the perfect moment, just after the bridge when Dee Dee was really belting it out .  My only disappointment of the evening was the realization that I left the records I bought at the show in a booth at Lovin’ Cup, where we stopped to grab a bite afterward. I called the place today but some jerk must have snapped them up. Can’t say I blame him or her, I’d probably do the same thing.

Dum Dum Girls are touring the Northeast through most of February and then head to Europe in March.  These ladies are not to be missed. For additional proof of such, check out the video Annie shot of them performing “Rest of Our Lives” from their 2010 debut LP I Will Be.

SHOW REVIEW: Blouse w/ Cosmetics & The New Lines

nice blouse, Charlie Hilton
Looking at the line-up for Tuesdaynight’s show at 285 Kent, I wasn’t sure if I was about to see ahandful of fashionable indie bands or if I was making a shopping listfor things I needed to pick up from Bloomingdales. Blouse, check. Cosmetics, check. The New Lines, check. (Original openers Beige andMosaics were replaced last minute by Beach Fossils side projectHeavenly Beat, but could have easily fit into a department storeotherwise).
Luckily for my bank account, it was theformer. I missed Heavenly Beat although heard from a photographer Istruck up a conversation with that his set was pretty befuddling. Actually, I think the term autistic might have been used, but I feelremiss to pass judgement on an act I didn’t actually catch. I mademy way toward the stage just as New Lines were setting up.
The three members of The New Lines had this adorably quirky indie rock band circa 1995 look, like they’d be scratching their feet in the dirt all sheepish-like if they hadn’t been playing a show. Unfortunately, that’s probably what they went and did after a set besieged by technical difficulties. It seems strange to say of something “It was so loud I couldn’t hear it” but that’s the sort of effect the mixing had – it seemed like every other thing was drowning the vocals, but I couldn’t tell specifically what needed turning down. Surely one guitar, or even the keyboard, couldn’t be obliterating my ear drums. Then they asked for “less iPod” followed by “less backing track” followed by some other way of saying “we don’t have a bassist, so we need to play our songs over another part of the same song that we already recorded” and I suddenly understood. After a false start, the band stopped playing their last track halfway through a second attempt and left the stage. Even so, I wanted to hug them and tell them not to give up; I could tell that given a proper opportunity to listen to their poppy, psych-influenced songs I might fall madly in love with them. Luckily, they have a bandcamp and the only thing missing there is the trippy projections that swirled behind them as they performed.
Misty Mary on the keys
After the longest equipment change of alltime, the Cosmetics frontwoman explained “We got caught in asnowstorm on the way here.” I was not sure if she meant from thebar to the stage or what, as it had been sixty degrees (!) in NYCjust hours earlier. The songstress was lovely to behold and had anice voice, while her equally attractive male compatriot backed her up on no less than three mini-synths. The overall effect was a semi-sluggishbrand of electroclash but I think given time to develop and expand ontheir sound this could be a really fun band to see again. They havetwo seven inches out on Captured Tracks (which you can listen to at bandcamp) and it will be interesting to see if they are able to movepast their sweet tooth for Glassy Candy.
Patrick tunes his bass
Blouse took the stage just aftermidnight. Leading lady Charlie Hilton repped the band name in aflowing garment, cuffed at midwrist and layered over tan short shortsworn with sheer tights and tall black wedge booties. I don’t know ifthat is relevant to anything, but it seems when you’ve named yourband after the fanciest of shirts that it might matter just a little. According to Patrick Adams’ cool haircut it matters. Misty Mary(likely not her real name) tapping her toes clad in ripped pantyhoseindicates that it matters. Everything about drummer Paul Roper saysit matters – from the suspenders to the Elvis Costello frames,partially shaved head to the vintage tee.
What definitely matters is that Blouselived up to the hype that’s surrounded their self-titled release, out last November on Captured Tracks. The set was blissed-out and dreamy, yet retained the signature new-wave throwback sound that has garnered so much buzz for Blouse.  Ms. Hilton’s emotive crooning made me feel like the onlyperson bopping around in the cavernous, graffittied space. Her limitedbanter was sweet and humble. But for one song, the set was comprised entirely of material from the record, and the live renditions were flawless.  They closedwith heavy-hitter “Into Black” before politely ducking offstage. You can watch my video of “They Always Fly Away” below.

An introduction to me and the music I love

Before I start describing to you my impression of the past year in music and what I’m looking forward to in the coming months (a succinct way to give you a glimpse into what you, our reader, can expect from me), I’ll tell you a wee bit about myself.

I was born and raised in a small Midwesterntown like so many other Brooklyn transplants. My parents placed my hands onthe keys of a piano at the age of three, and the bow of a cello in my fingersat the age of nine. I’d like to think that music is in my blood, but I knowbetter—for instance, that the early influence of Handel’s “Water Music” inshaping my perception of the world, or the memory of watching,atop shoulders, my dad play reggae at a local summertime concert, has more todo with my love for music than what my blood may contain. Still, I get afunny feeling in my heart when I hear certain songs, as if something mightbe waking up…

Though I never became aspectacular musician, by anyone’s standard, I still play occasionally. Moreimportantly, however, I learned in playing music for my whole life, to keepopen ears to whatever might waft through the airwaves. Subsequently, music hasbecome sine qua non to the diversity of my experience in the world, especiallyas a young city dweller. Without live music (even if the sound sucks, or thevenue is sub par), without the excitement of anticipating the newest album fromone of my current favorites, and without the joy of stumbling upon someundiscovered new treasure of a band (or DJ, or subway busker for that matter),life would just sparkle so much less vibrantly. New York would be such a drag.

What you can expect from me, with that said, is straightforward descriptive musings about the things that move me, namely good music (and sometimes not so good music too). If what you want though, is pretentious self-impressed sounding pseudo-journalism, then, well, I can direct you toward a few good music blogs for that too. Oh, and I have a degree in International Economics…So you may get a few tangential rants here and there about the security of oil supplies pumped throughout the Caucasus and Middle East, blah blah blah…

Anyway please read-on and (hopefully) enjoy a few personal highlights from the past year in music along with forthcoming shows and albums that I’m anticipating will be amazing. Organized categorically of course–because who doesn’t love lists?

Best new band of 2011: Beacon

My favorite newbie from 2011 is by far the band Beacon, whom I discovered at the Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival thanks to my friend Jakub, who runs the label Moodgadget, to which they are signed. Comprised of Thomas Mullarney and Jacob Gossett, Beacon sounds like an amalgam of what I consider to be the best elements of R&B and electronic, respectively, with mellow, synthy keys, smooth falsetto vocals and layers upon layers of textured beats. Before you check out their newest EP, No Body–a luscious soundscape of tunes about life and love–, listen to their cover of “The Rip”, by Portishead. You can find it Here. And if you like it, check them out live on February 4th with Tycho, at Music Hall. Ms. Rhoades and I would love to see you there.

The album of 2011 I was most surprised I like: Suck It and See

When I heard the first song off the album Suck It and See, I thought to myself “I really like this. It must be some sort of new wave I don’t know of…Yeah, definitely from the 80’s…Is it House Of Love? Hmmm…No…”. I then glanced over the album cover, nearly falling off my chair in surprise, to find that it was the irascible gang of drunken, juvenile Brits themselves: The Arctic Monkeys.  They seem to have inexorably matured about ten years since, say, Favourite Worst Nightmare in 2007 (we all remember “Fluorescent Adolescent’s” jabby opening chorus line “you used to get it in your fishnets/ now you only get it in your nightdress”). And I like what they’ve become: still raucous, but a bit less self-pitying and a bit more circumspect, both sonically and emotionally (if the two can even be disentangled when it comes to music). Self-possession really does suit them, for instance in the “Black Treacle” lyric “now I’m out of place, and I’m not getting any wiser/ I feel like the Sundance Kid behind a synthesizer”. It sounds like a conundrum I’ve found myself in too, these days. And bravo, Arctic Monkeys, for being all the more perspicacious in actually admitting to it.

Best girl anthem of 2011 that feels like a throwback: “Sadness Is A Blessing”

Lykke Li’s “Sadness Is A Blessing”, from Wounded Rhymes pretty much sums up my teenage years. And I’m sure had she been around in the 90’s, I would have most certainly been dressing and acting just like her. The opening chords are an immediate reference to all the 60’s girl groups whom I love, with a catchy I-IV-V key progression. Then comes Lykke’s raspy, unapologetic plea to some heartbreaker out there, to come back to her, in spite of her . Alas to no avail, she resolves herself to the infinite sorrow that awaits her in his absence. It’s a  beautifully haunting song that seems to capture every decade of pop since the 50’s. It shows that women creating incredible music about how much it sucks to be love-sick is a motif that transcends space and time.

Best Album of 2011 by a girl-led band, that can even begin to compete with Body Talk by Robyn: Ritual Union, Little Dragon

All of those who know me know that I would cross the street to tell a stranger how much I love Robyn. Body Talk may actually be one of my favorite albums of all time. With that said, when I heard Ritual Union–the newest  from Little Dragon, I was pretty damn excited to have found what I consider to be a futuristic iteration of everything I like about everything Robyn’s ever done. Whew. Ok, enough hyperbole for you? Yeah, me too. Anyway, Ritual Union is an album full of pulsating dance beats featuring heavy snare, combined with smooth synthetic bass lines and of course, Yukimi Nagano’s beautiful, sultry voice. And while I don’t have it on repeat or anything, it’s perfect to play at the end of the night, when all your dinner guests have had a bit too much to drink, and some of them want to get stoned at sit on the couch while others just really need to have a freaky dance party .

Best album of 2011 that almost makes me like Bob Dylan: Slave Ambient, The War On Drugs

I had heard Slave Ambient several times over the past months and didn’t think too much of it, considering all the attendant hype. However, after listening to a few of their terrific live performances on NPR’s “Sound Check”, I decided to revisit it and see if there was something I had been missing. And ok, fair enough, they’re pretty damn good. The songs do accompany arcane, poetic lyrics sung by a raspy-voiced front man, with a shit-ton of folky guitar melodies. This in and of itself makes them (to me) start to sound an awful lot like Bob Dylan tunes. I can’t really help it. And for those of you who know me know I would cross the street to tell some girl’s expensively-groomed chihuahua that I don’t like Bob Dylan.  But here’s the difference: each instrument including the vocals has reverb applied, as well as any handful of cool effects. This little aspect manages to transform each track from derivative (at best) into luscious, ambient and original. Amazing what a bit of creative thinking can do, no?

Best Album of 2011, Period: Year of Hibernation, (Youth Lagoon), tied with  Father, Son, Holy Ghost, (Girls)

So this was really, really challenging. It’s basically like having to choose your favorite kid (not that I have any, but I imagine it would be an equally difficult task ). Anyway, upon much deliberation I decided to narrow it down to two. And I challenge any music lover to try and do better than that.

Ok, so first, Youth Lagoon: Who knew that some kid making songs in his bedroom would have such a substantial impact on the world of indie rock. And what makes these songs great is not that they are innovative, as is the case with much of the incredible Garage Band-made music these days, but rather the ways in which they sound like something you’ve heard a million times but can’t quite pin down. They’re nostalgically psychedelic, but simple and quiet at the same time. Trevor Powers’ voice is thin but powerfully resonate. The melodies are pedestrian but unique. The lyrics are about a childhood we can all relate to; yet somehow his words still give me pause. Every time I listen to Year Of Hibernation, I discover something new about the songs. They will put me simultaneously in a good and bad mood. And that, my dear friends, is one illustrious feat.

It’s rare that a band’s sophomore album actually surpasses their debut, but Father, Son, Holy Ghost manages it somehow, although I’m sure there are plenty of folks out there who would disagree with me. The songs range from excruciatingly slow guitar ballads to Beatles-esque jingles, which is a wide spectrum to cover, and speaks loudly to the band’s versatility. Christopher Owens is a pretty self-aware dude (being a Children Of God escapee and all), and he wears is heart on his sleeve, evident in lyrics such as “They don’t like my boney body/ They don’t like my dirty hair/ Or the stuff that I say, or the stuff that I’m on”, from “Honey Bunny”, which is a track that perfectly encapsulates the band’s sound: upbeat classic rock ‘n roll, underpinned by dark moody intimations (think Beck’s “Sun Eyed Girl”).  And this little fact alone will keep me coming back to these songs again and again, probably forever.

Runners up: Unluck (James Blake),  Hurry Up We’re Dreaming (M83)

 

Well, clearly I could go on ad infinitum about  2011, but I figured I should leave the past where it belongs, and instead look toward what awaits us right around the proverbial corner. I’ll list a few albums about which I’m “stoked” (as they say in left coast vernacular), and then sign off, for now, with a lineup of shows I hope to attend. Who knows, maybe we can catch a few together…
xxo
Annie

Albums I can’t wait for:
Mark Lanegan Band, February 6

Die Antwoord, February 7

Sleigh Bells, February 21

School Of Seven Bells, February 28

Bruce Springsteen, March 5

Spiritualized, March 19

Choir of Young Believers, March 20

Where to track us down these days:

01.25 Lucinda Black Bear, Union Pool
01.31 Blouse, 285 Kent
02.02 Thurston Moore, Lincoln Center, Allen Room
02.04 Tycho, Beacon, Music Hall Of Williamsburg
02.07 Mark Lanegan Band, Bowery Ballroom
02.11 Dum Dum Girls, Maxwell’s
02.11 The Kills, Terminal 5
02.14 Lily and the Parlour Tricks, The Bowery Electric
02.25 Sharon Van Etten, Bowery Ballroom

NewVillager takes Manhattan

I know next to nothing about NewVillager, and I am not the only one.
I came across the video for “Lighthouse”while curating a design blog and was blown away by the elaborate costumes and energetic posturing. When their self-titled debut album was released, it was hard not to fall in love with the infectious melodies and pop-inspired grooves. But who were NewVillager? They seemed to have anywhere between two and twenty members, depending on whether one decides to count dancers, living sculptures, hand-clappers, and videographers, all of whom seem to have been beamed down from another dimension beyond our own plane.
drummer Collin Palmer bestowing fan with mask

NewVillager are most certainly building a mythology around their work, which is equal parts musical and visual. A gallery installation in Tribeca last month and a video for second single “Rich Doors” have introduced a conceptual game that apparently has to be experienced to be understood, and even then all bets are off. Last week I decided to see for myself what all the fuss was about, knowing that even if the set-up was less elaborate than what I’d seen on YouTube, I’d still hear some great tunes.

Ross Simonini

I was dismayed upon arrival to find a line down the block. My friend and I went to a bar around the corner for drinks, but even after we’d downed some cheap PBR and returned to Mercury Lounge there was still a line. The crowd was baffling. Had Mercury Lounge run a Groupon? That’s the only explanation I had as to how the folks in front of us had wound up here.  I’m not trying to be judgmental, but none of them seemed the type that would be into the possibility of this becoming some insane piece of performance art.  Slowly but surely, we filtered through the door and the narrow bar to the show space inside. We didn’t have to wait long before three musicians took the stage, which was adorned with bizarre props.

Ben Bromley makes faces, and music
The set was perfectly executed and seemed extremely well-rehearsed. Be-scarfed singer Ben Bromley’s facial expressions were particularly animated as he manned the keyboard, prompting my friend to aptly dub him “the white BobbyMcFerrin”. Ross Simonini chimed in with additional vocals and apparently prefers to play guitar barefoot. Drummer Collin Palmer did double-duty as hype man, stepping out from behind his kit a few times to get the crowd pumped.  Halfway through the set a dancer completely obscured by a hood with with a grin that literally went from ear to ear came from out of nowhere, wriggling off the stage and through the audience, handing out masks. One particularly ornate mask was bestowed upon a lucky observer who was invited to dance (albeit poorly) on stage. She was later joined by two friends, one of whom exuberantly proclaimed “It’s my birthday!” but I’m almost positive this was not part of the NewVillager myth.
Not actually a member of NewVillager
Meanwhile, on stage right, another performer had situated himself or herself or itself inside a giant inflatable statue. A grey-and-white striped column pranced throughthe crowd as well. The culmination of these activities was, of course, “Rich Doors”, performed as an encore though encores are always a slightly perplexing endeavor at Mercury Lounge, where there’s no place for the band to hide. When I say they played “Rich Doors” as an encore, I also mean that they played Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams”. You can watch a video I shot of the revelry below.
I went to Mercury Lounge expecting indie rock’s answer to Gwar, and in all honesty I was more weirded out by the audience than the performance. What I got was definitely more random than the almost Jodorowsky-esque set-up promised in the“Lighthouse” video, but was still a little charming. Even with all the fanfare it was the songs themselves that stood out most. Well-constructed in the first place, their live translation was sublime. With regards to the mythology behind NewVillager, all I can say is that it would be nice if these artists let their fans in onthe secret.

i know what you did last year.

For some, 2011 was just a year where seemingly every other girl/gay man in Brooklyn decided to shave a random swath of hair down to the scalp. But for me, it was a collection of moments that have inspired me to whole-heartedly evaluate the way I experience music and actually make something out of my passion.

i know what you did last year.
a collection of tracks representing the highlights of a year’s worth of live events.
by tiny_owl on 8tracks.
click band names in the text for youtube videos of select performances!
My meditations on this began out of a repugnance for getting older. I had tickets to see Washed Out with openers Blood Orange and Grimes, but the night of the show, a Monday, everyone bowed out, citing the old “have to be up early for work” excuse. It dawned on me that while I was still serving tacos in a tiny Mexican restaurant, these people, my friends, had careers, and that these careers were so important that they could not waste hours of sleep to see a once-in-a-lifetime lineup play to a packed house, everyone with dancing shoes on. I wrangled a friend who, like myself, had few daytime responsibilities, or at the very least could handle being a bit sleepy the next day. We had a phenomenal time, but even so I was bummed. Was I somehow immature or unaccomplished because I enjoyed this sort of thing? On Thursday, aheart-to-heart with a friend who had bailed resulted in the followingconclusion: the two of us were at different places in our lives, andapparently I was not the adult.
The thing is, it didn’t really matterto me. If being an adult meant forgoing unexpected Bastille Dayfireworks over the Hudson after a free tUnE-yArDs performance so thatI could efficiently alphabetize files in a cubicle for a steadypaycheck, then I was content to sling salsa for at least a few moreyears. I wouldn’t trade losing my shit over those first hauntingstrains of Dirty Beaches’ “Lord Knows Best” billowing throughGlassland’s papery clouds to change a dirty diaper, because Alex Zhang Hungtai is the coolest dudewho ever lived, and that night he vowed to “croon the fuck out”which is exactly what happened.
I wouldn’t want to miss the chance tojump on the Music Hall of Williamsburg stage for Star Slinger’sclosing cut “Punch Drunk Love” or to witness Phil Elvurum on thealtar of the gorgeous St. Cecilia’s church, his soft voicereverberating angelically around the cathedral. Or to have folk heroMichael Gira kiss my hand after the Swans show, which was theloudest, sweatiest, and single most transcendent rock-n-rollexperience I’d ever had. Nor would I miss the incredible stageset-up as it virtually came alive to Animal Collective’s ProspectPark set, even as the heat and hallucinogens caused teenagers allaround me to pass out. Had I not decided on a whim just a day before the show, I would never have seen Dam-Funk shred akey-tar as we sailed around Manhattan on a ferry, the sun settingagainst the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty waving hertorch over the deck. I braved the pollution of the Gowanus Canal tosee a Four Tet DJ in a garden that managed to be verdant despite allthe toxins pulsing through the ground.
This was my fourth year at CMJ, and itstands as one of my favorite events because in that moment, you’reright with those fledgling acts, waiting to see a performance thatwill build their buzz or totally break them. This year, at a TrashTalk performance replete with band members flinging themselves frombalconies, a friend of mine well into her twenties found herself in acircle pit for the very first time. Later that week, I watched PatGrossi of Active Child strum a person-sized harp, its stringspractically glowing as they vibrated against his fingertips.
Fiercely loving music is one thing thatdoesn’t get boring for me. As I age, it doesn’t get old. Seeing aParty of Helicopters reunion performance at Death By Audio inFebruary proved that. I used to see them religiously when I lived inOhio. In my veins was the same blood that was present when I wastwenty, and every muscle, every cell, remembered what to do – Idamn near gave myself whiplash, working myself into a frenzy.
And despite spending hours researchingobscure bands for music supervision projects I freelance, I stilldiscover bands just by attending shows. While dancing my ass off atthe 100% Silk Showcase at Shea Stadium, I discovered a whole label’sworth of material harkening back to club jams of the nineties, andthe Amanda Brown vs. Bethany Cosentino debate was forever settledin my mind in favor of the LA Vampires frontwoman; Brown is avisionary while Cosentino is just cute.
In roughly fifteen years of attendingrock concerts, I’d say I had the best one yet. I’ve decided thatsince growing up is not worth the trade-off of giving up live music,or changing the way I experience the music that I love, that I willhave to marry the two. While this trajectory began years ago, thisis the first time I’ve felt any sort of mission behind the fandom. Iam the person people call and ask “are there any good shows goingon tonight?”, the person with extra tickets who drags friends alongto see bands they haven’t heard of, the person who brings a hugegroup of old friends together for a show, the person who barring allthat will go to a show alone and still have a blast. I am one of thethousands of people who log on to Ticketmaster at 9:55am forRadiohead tickets and still won’t get any. I’m the person at thefront of the crowd, snapping a few quick pictures for those whocouldn’t make it, and then dancing like a thing possessed for therest of the set. For me, it’s dedication. It’s all part of beingsomeone who was there.