lookout, lookout!

i heard at cmj a couple weeks ago that lookout records is out of business, basically screwing hockey night, which frankly blows. apparently they lost green day's back catalog rights and they were already in financial trouble. word is: at the lookout showcase there weren't any lookout employees. not cool. anybody else heard something?

M (m) I (i) A (a) M.I.A.

so i skipped the arcade fire last night and checked out spank rock and m.i.a. at the fine line. i figured that there was a better chance of the arcade fire making their way back here someday, since who knows how long the m.i.a. bubble is going to last?

spank rock was great: two great djs plus one hypeman/laptop runner plus one rapper who looked like steve urkel = tons of fun. great old school rap stuff in the vein of sugarhill gang, but you know, updated for the kids. fun-loving electro stuff and the recommendations of my two friends from new york were well-heeded.

m.i.a. was up and down. or rather: down and up. she and terry, her hype, er, woman had the flu and the first bunch of songs weren't so impressive. the stage decoration was hot though, and i appreciate the effort to put up a giant m.i.a. banner and some flags and especially the prom-quality palm tree. thanks to "rock and roll easter" jesse for that observation.

it was sold out, so people were nipples-to-shoulderblades all over the place and generally m.i.a. just didn't seem to be connecting. it didn't help that with her thick accent we couldn't always tell what she was saying when she asked how we were feeling. we shouted anyways, but something was off.

then, she played "10 dollars" which is, along with "bingo" and "hombre" (neither of which were played, to my dismay), the bangingest cuts on the disc and the place just exploded. suddenly, everyone was moving the right way, and by the time she got to the chanted call-and-response of "what can i get for 10 dollars? ANYTHING YOU WANT!" the crowd was hooked. she jumped up on the speaker and held the mic out over the assembled and eveyrbody testified. from there on in it was great, and she brought people up on stage during the chanted outro of "galang" and then ... it was over. far too soon, and i didn't stick around for an encore.

so: first pretty much what i expected, and then amazing, and then over too soon. a pattern you may be familiar with.

CMJ Wrap-up, Pt 2 (2nd day up until it went ass)

After bumming around with Joe Mabbot for most of the day, we discover that his badgless status prevents him from seeing the Hold Steady play an acoustic set at Lincoln Center, so he heads across town, eventually planning on meeting up with the Rhymesayers squad which has descended upon Irving Plaza. A lack of a badge has also shut out James “JG” Everest, who I’m surprised to find milling about the lobby. He couldn’t get in to see Anticon’s Why?, about whom I’ve heard good things, but they’re just wrapping up as I arrive, so it’ll have to wait for next time. I feel for them (Joe and James), I really do, but I also feel like catching the Hold Steady, so I flash the plastic and head upstairs.

I’m excited to see them setting up for an acoustic set, which I wasn’t expecting, and bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun from behind, the Hold Steady deliver one of the finest sets of the conference. A large amount of the band’s appeal comes from setting Finn’s hyper-literary and arch lyrics against a sleazy bar band backdrop, and I was surprised to find that the songs carried over rather well to the acoustic setting. It highlights Finn and lets the piano work come to the forefront. “Certain Songs” (my favorite track from their first disc) quietly brings the crowd in, and for a conference taking place in one of the busiest, noiseiest cities on Earth with some of the loudest, squallingest bands in the dankest, nastiest clubs, it’s a beautiful moment of light, marble and rock and roll devotion.

Plus, moments after they finish, George Clinton walks by. Don’t ask me why, but I’ll bet you there’s not a whole lot of 60-odd year-old black men with neon hair and glasses walking around, so he stands out a bit. A gaggle of badge holders dive for their digital cameras.

I grab a quick plate of sesame chicken at Ollie’s (why can’t anyone in Minnesota figure out how to really make sesame chicken—this stuff is amazing) and head back down to Union Square for the Atmosphere listening party at tiny Bar 119 right next to Irving Plaza. The listening party was supposed to be at Irving Plaza, but apparently, some problems have arisen and so instead we’re next door, munching on apps (tofu on a skewer (which Jay Bird (Atmosphere’s tour manager) is enjoying), some crispy chicken with scallions, calamari, tempura vegetable—all really good stuff, actually) and enjoying the open bar. An open bar is almost unheard of in NYC, so several whiskey sours make their way my way. On hand are the Rhymesayers all-stars, fresh from a crazy show at Yale the night before. P.O.S. says the tour’s been 2/3 good, meaning two good shows and one bad one so far. Slug’s had good shows so far, although he admits to being a little nervous about the new record actually dropping. He’s accosted throughout the party by various DJs looking for him to do radio drops, usually repeating, “Hey this is Slug and when I’m not teaching your girlfriend how to play strip chess I’m listening to …” I mingle with Craig Finn, who’s going to do a song with P.O.S. this evening, Destro from Boom Bap and the Atmosphere band. Finn and I discuss the story that’s been making its way through the Minneapolis community out here: The Constellations’ van was broken into last night in Brooklyn and they lost a Telecaster, Mader’s much-beloved Jazzmaster (he’d had it since high school) and an iPod. Tad Kubler from the Hold Steady apparently hooked them up with the Gibson rep and they’ve got their gear needs covered for the weekend, but it still just sucks. I guess CMJ is pretty much open season in NYC for gear-thiefs; crack open any van in the boroughs and you’re more than likely to find some equipment.

At some point I start to realize that CMJ is mostly a whole lot of schmoozing and that I barely know anyone. Mostly, I know the musicians, and they’re busy talking to all the schmoozers. Still, I’m not gonna turn down free apps and drinks. Not in New York, at least.

As I’m getting ready to head over to Irving Plaza for the show, cops suddenly descend on the place. Bet you didn’t see that coming! About six cops show up, interrupt the lovely discussion I was having with Nate from Atmosphere and Craig Finn about skateboards with giant wheels, and ask us to move towards the exit. I don’t mess with the men in blue as a rule, and especially not with NYC cops.

There are a bunch of hoops to jump through to get into Irving Plaza with a camera, but once they’re jumped through, I feel like a real reporter, complete with vinyl sticker to get me into the trough in front of the stage for the first three songs of each performer’s set. I spy Crescent Moon who’s in town for the Kill the Vultures show at Northsix the next night. He stands out like a sore thumb; who else wears a straw hat to a hip-hop show?


P.O.S. kills it. Blah blah blah. You’ve heard it before but if I have to grab your T-shirt in a bunch and spew saliva all over you to get you to pay attention, I will: Stef Alexander is it. It was a particular treat to hear some older stuff from Ipecac Neat. At Minneapolis shows, he’s mostly been playing new stuff, plus he’s usually with the rest of Doomtree, so we only get to hear a few dedicated P.O.S. songs per set. It warms my heart to hear “Kidney Thief,” “Kicking Knowledge in the Face,” and “That One.” He leads the crowd in call-and-response and calls Finn up to perform a new track from Stef’s upcoming Audition album, due out January 2006. Too long for me.

Boom Bap Project is up next. Their disc is a real treat, mostly down to Jake One’s production, but as you may know, quality sound on the tracks is the first thing to go when rap takes the stage. The beats are still great, but the MCs pale in comparison to P.O.S.’s charisma. Still, they’ve got some good tracks and they’re a great signing for Rhymesayers since they represent a distinctly un-emo and old school kind of hip-hop.

I Self Devine hits with Buddha Tye in tow and brings a much more aggressive tone to the evening. It doesn’t hurt that the guy’s absolutely larger than life. I enjoyed the set a lot, but I was already worried about making it to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and the Robbers on High Street over at the Mercury Lounge, so I head out in the middle of I Self’s set and make my way back onto the N and down to the Merc. This is the point when I discover that Bar 119 is completely blacked out and there are closure notices from the police with language like, "By the order of the New York Police Department..." on them. I begin preparing my stories about how I was there the night it closed, for future inclusion in my memoirs.

CMJ Wrap-up, Pt 1

instead of taking up a ton of space in print talking about events that have already happened, i'm publishing my cmj wrap-up to the blog. what follows is part one, the first day. events happen in real time.

“You get friendship or nothing. Friendship or nothing: make your choice.” It’s about 12:30 a.m. on a hot-assed Brooklyn night, and instead of resting up for my first day at the College Music Journal’s 25th Annual Music Marathon (universally referred to simply as CMJ), I’m sitting up in my friend’s Park Slope apartment’s day-bed, watching a scene unfold out on 15th Street. A woman and a man out on the street are clearly in the middle of some relationship woes and a second man has intevened and mediates, giving the first man the above ultimatum. It’s not pretty, but it usually never is when something you’ve invested a lot of time and energy into falls apart and breaks your heart. Two years ago, after a year in the city itself and two more on the outskirts trying to “make it,” New York City and I broke up. And I chose nothing.

I’ve never had a lot of love for the Big Apple, but I’m gradually warming up to it. CMJ holds forth the promise of bands, panels, bands, parties, bands and alcohol to lubricate any outsider’s opinion of the city itself. To get the basics out of the way, for the last 25 years, CMJ the magazine has been holding CMJ the music conference here and the event itself is roughly on par with South by Southwest, although not quite as large or centrally located. The venues for shows are scattered throughout Manhattan and Brooklyn, with the majority located on the Lower East Side. Curiously, though, HQ is up at Lincoln Center at 65th and Columbus, which is where I find myself Thursday morning at 10 a.m. to collect my press badge, photo pass and giant bag of worthless promotional crap. The laminated badges for entry and photo privileges come on a lanyard weighted down with coupons for money off at the Virgin Megastore, free downloads from iTunes and I think … yup, nothing else useful, so I ditch everything but the necessities and jam it into my bag for the time being. I begin to perceive a stratification amongst the badge-holders here: rubes who wear the whole shebang around their neck all the time with all the extra freight, the more efficient folk who’ve stripped the lanyard to its essentials but are still wearing it while they’re browsing Tower Records, the cool kids (mostly band members, it seems) who have it dangling througha belt loop just below a T-shirt hem and then the undercover people who are only pulling it out when they need it. I hope I’ve done the right thing.

In what would become the pattern for the whole conference, I pick Twin Cities bands over anyone else and head down to Piano’s to see the Plastic Constellations play an early set at 2 p.m. The assembled crowd of roughly 15 people (including Frenchkiss people like Steve [Wittman], who was instrumental in signing TPC to that label, and label-buddy/Minnesota ex-pat Craig Finn) didn’t fill the room, but the Constellations, fresh off the road from Pittsburgh, Penn., brought it, and the people rejoiced. The expereince of seeing a lot of music in a small amount of time ata festival or a conference such as this tends to hone one’s sense of what one likes; if it’s uninspiring, you just get on to other things, but when it’s great, it’s an almost sixth-sense feeling of quality, and TPC has this. The guide for CMJ describes them as funky and poppy. Well, that’s one way to look at it. I hang around talking to bassist Jordan Roske for a while and drinking a welcome afternoon beer (Brooklyn Lager: damn, this stuff is good and I miss it) but they have to get their stuff out and back to the van for their short drive over to their second of four shows here in New York at Mo Pitkins.

During the day, there isn’t a whole lot to do other than panels, and herein lies the essential problem of layout with the conference. All the panels are up at Lincoln Center, but all the parties and day shows are on the Lower East Side. Plus, I’m partial to downtown since that’s where I live so I choose to kick around the Village. Have I mentioned that it is ridiculously stinky hot? It is, and I pick up a spare T-shirt for later, which really ends up being the clutch move of the whole day. A couple of slices of pizza and a few miles later, I arrive at Mo Pitkins for a Minnesota-centric event being promoted by Vitriol Radio and Fanatix Promotion and the Current.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t really understand who’s behind this event; I bumped into Jesse Stensby and crew at the airport coming out here and they’re here in force and armed with lots of Current stickers and coasters. As far as I can tell, the Constellations are the only Minnesota band on the bill, but soon enough, we’ve taken over. Minneapolitans at the show include: folk hero Rob Skoro, bassist James Buckley, 2024 Records’ Dave Campbell, Hideaway Studios owner Joe Mabbott, singer/songwriters JoAnna James and Chris Koza (laid back and enjoying the festivities now that their own (fairly successful and well-attended, apparently) showcases were last night) and Vamp Music mogul Craig Grossman. The guide promised that CMJ was like “a high-school reunion” every year and sure enough, Mo Pitnik’s has welcomed the alumni of Twin Town High.

If Piano’s was a tiny place, then Pitnik’s is microscopic, and it seems unlikely that TPC will tear it down in Godzilla fashion with their first chord, so the soundguy clamps downtight on the borrowed amps. Result: guitarist/vocalist Aaron Mader’s Jazzmaster sounds thin and not at all rock-ready, the vocals are pushed to the absolute breaking point and generally, the show doesn’t flatten the crowd quite like it did earlier in the afternoon. They laugh and make the best of it though, and shortly after they finish, I’m off to the Living Room to check out a longtime favorite of mine Chris Lee, unaware of the fate that awaits Plastic Constellations in Brooklyn later that night.

That’s called foreshadowing. Chris Lee is a singer/songwriter from Brooklyn who writes literary blue-eyed soul and delivers it in a falsetto that’s sometimes eerily reminiscent of Jeff Buckley. His simple setup at the Living Room is bass, drums, guitar and cello and the venue’s a great one for his intimate, barely-there anthems and his cover of the soul nugget “I’m Your Puppet.” People sit at tables, cabaret-style, and the one-drink minimum (on top of what I’ve already had) is just enough to push me to my maximum for the evening. So I’m glad to be sitting and glad to be listening to music in a drowsy state, especially since it’s unlikely that Lee’s Misra Records will ever get him out to Minnesota for a show. When and if it does, he’s well worth checking out for fans of Buckley pere or fils, Coldplay or any of those Coldplay-alikes like Athlete or Keane.

My battered feet and hazy state demand a return trip to Brooklyn pretty early tonight, but I’m counting on the nights getting later as the conference progresses. The hot, hazy and humid conditions preclude any kind of worthwhile sleep until four in the morning. No fights break out, but I’m awoken at 8 a.m. by a man dragging chains down the street outside. No, I’m not kidding.

so i've just arrived here in new york for the week's cmj festivities. i'm currently in brooklyn, and unfortunately enough, i got in just late enough to make getting my badge tonight a non-possibility, so instead of hitting the town, i'm chilling here. i talked to rob skoro online though, who was just on his way to play his show at the scenic, and i definitely wish all the best for joanna james and chris koza. sorry i couldn't make it, folks! tomorrow i get the badge and then the fun really begins. tomorrow my plans include chris lee (a criminally underrated nyc guy on misra) at the living room at 9:30 pm and, well, i dunno. other stuff? i'm kind of considering calling aaron mader and just hanging out with TPC the whole weekend. wouldn't that be fun? there's a vitiriol radio party at this joint called mo pitkins starting tomorrow at 9:30 pm, so i think that might be fun. i'll keep posting this weekend.

and speaking of last night, it was great to see hip-hop at the turf last night. or, as tom servo from doomtree pointed out, hip-hop with people at the turf. missing numbers opened, who are not hip-hop, obviously, but are great. they need to do the soundtrack for the next david lynch movie and three cheers for rock bands with horns. they play some kickass mood music. which sounds like a contradiction, but that's pretty much what it is.

twisted linguistics was up next and noah was heroically battling off a cold to deliver some reggae-inflected hip-hop, although the sound at the turf didn't do any favors for the live band, which sounded a little thin, at least from the back of the room. you probably shouldn't mix the dj who's scratching louder than the drums. the last tune they did was with a backing track, and waas considerably more impactful than the band stuff.

live hip-hop can be a tricky proposition, but man, heiruspecs has it down. i have to beg off too much prosletyzing, since it's my brother's band, but even if he weren't in the band, i'd have to be impressed by the ease with which they deliver a crowd-moving set. clearly, a lot of time on the road has given them an effortless grace when it comes to transitions between songs. suffice it to say, i think they deliver one of the best live shows in the twin cities, and i think you could probably get a lot of people who aren't related to any of the band members to say the same thing.

tonight there's a show going down at big v's with the sea, like lead, which was supposedly at the turf and was listed as such in the turf ad this week, but bill from ela assured me last night that it's at big v's and it's going to be hot. i might try to make it, but i also might try to finish my article for next week. it's a tossup. anybody else going?