Jern Eye

It was a long and rough ride, but we got through CMJ this past weekend after attending many, many shows. The ride was so rough that we just got around to pointing out our highlights now:

Fake Male Voice at Bruar Falls
There were some weird things about this show by TV on the Radio’s Tunde Adebimpe—it was an afternoon gig, there were only about ten people in the room, and Sean Lennon turned up in the support slot—but that’s not why the show was so special. What made it magic was the way that Adebimpe seemed so connected to the music he makes: lonesome, fiery songs backed up with the most economical beats and glitches. I felt very lucky to be there.—Sophie Harris

Broadcast at (Le) Poisson Rouge
The veteran Birmingham band has slimmed down to a duo and fundamentally reinvented itself, casting aside niceties such as melody or tones that do not threaten the eardrums. The musicians’ thundering, high-concept set at (Le) Poisson Rouge—on a bill costarring the middling Atlas Sound—proved a revelation.—Jay Ruttenberg

Wild Yaks at Knitting Factory Brooklyn
Aside from an abundance of unstudied charisma, the Yaks boast a number of outstanding songs. They seem most comfortable pulling off raggedly gorgeous, campfire-style sing-alongs like “River May Come, which had the audience bellowing along, and the sublime “Angel Eyes,” which I first heard when the band performed it live at the TONY offices a little while back. But as this CMJ gig’s rowdy version of the upbeat “Tomahawk” demonstrated, the Yaks are a punk band at heart. They place passion before posturing, and that’s why their set was easily the realest thing I’ve seen in several years of CMJ showgoing.—Hank Shteamer

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Before CMJ becomes but a foggy memory, we’d like to get a mention in for one of its finest performers. Not some fast-rising, HOTT young band, but rather the soul veteran Lee Fields, who stormed the Daptone showcase at the Knitting Factory—check out the full review and slide show here. Fields strutted onstage in a tight, shiny suit, beaming wickedly, his awesomely ravaged voice backed up by a super-tight brass section and bongos. His finest moment? Undoubtedly the musky, romantic funk of “Ladies.” Ladies flocked to the stage, and Fields knelt down to hold their hands, whispering the song’s sweet nothings: “Young lady, what’s your name? Wow, I know your man’s pleased all the way down to his knees…” and so on. Speaking as one of these ladies, I felt like one of the screaming girls in Top Secret.

And then I discovered that the track had been remixed by Jay-Z–signed rapper J. Cole! The delicious hooks are all there, plus some hilarious “romantic” moments: “Come hop up on this ski jet, you scared of that water or you just scared to get your weave wet? Good lord.” It’s all too much.

Photos by Dan Dealy

Hip-hop lovers had a pretty grim end to their CMJ fest: It seemed that five straight days of running around took its toll late Saturday evening, resulting in fights, theft, arrest and um, people deliberately clogging up the toilets in one venue. There were some great moments to be had, however:  In the slide show above: photos from the Fader fort party at Ace Hotel, Red Bull Space’s showcase with Shameless Management and Scott on the Rocks, and more pics from an impromptu showcase at BLVD; plus, Theophilus London, Sam Sparro, Donnis, Pill, Jared Evans and more. The story of the night’s adventure after the jump.
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Despite lame weather Saturday night (did the gods not understand it was CMJ week?), we decided to go out strong, and rounded out this festival blitzkrieg with multiple showcases. (Full disclosure: We had to walk only four blocks to achieve this goal.) Beginning at the After the Jump party at Williamsburg’s overwhelming mind-fuck of a venue, Brooklyn Bowl, we thought it wise to catch two fast-on-the-rise local acts: Bear in Heaven and Small Black. Survey says? Both will soon be doing very well for themselves.

More hotness after the jump: Bear in Heaven, Small Black, garage popsters the Smith Westerns, Woodsist band Real Estate, and Dungen side project the Amazing.

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We said it after last week’s crowded performance from the xx: You’d be lucky to have a ticket to Saturday’s sold-out show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. The London quartet had electric momentum as it ran through its self-titled debut. Considering the band’s cool and subdued sound, the audience was disproportionately energetic; a few people on the floor were moving as if Basement Jaxx were on stage, while uproarious exclamations of excitement met the first notes of each song. Periodically flashing a shy smile, cofrontman Oliver Sim seemed a mite taken aback by the response the band received. But the affection was deserved; the xx’s set of seductive, crisp tunes was impeccable.

The rest of the evening was filled with shoegazing shades of distortion. In the headline slot, Brooklyn coed trio School of Seven Bells mixed up My Bloody Valentine fuzz and up-tempo beats, over which its two female vocalists weaved sweet ethereal melodies. Although the band followed the xx with a dazzling set, it was an unfortunate place on the bill; about half the venue cleared out, and it was impossible to the match the level of energy that had been stirring in the room.

The show had some notable openers: Upstate New York duo Phantogram enthralled with its effect-laden vocals and keyboards, coupled with cool beats and heavy distortions, while Brooklyn’s Depreciation Guild kicked off the show with its loud and Slowdive-style space rock.—Josh Frank

Brooklyn’s Hopewell played Union Pool—the band’s last show for some time, they say (singer Jason Russo will play ATP in the U.K. with a re-formed Harmony Rockets, and a new album is in the offing). The set was fittingly loud: A melee of deliciously psychedelic geetar action, horses’-hooves-style drumming and Russo’s battle-cry vocals.

The new Knitting Factory on Metropolitan Avenue in Williamsburg was a great spot for Daptone Records to celebrate the release of its Daptone Gold compilation. The venue is sleek and low-lit, and though it could do with a little scuffing round the edges, it perfectly suited tonight’s soulful performers—who were themselves perfectly suited: Gravel-voiced soul veterans Lee Fields and Charles Bradley performed, along with Sharon Jones and Naomi Shelton. The Budos Band took the whole dressing-up-thing a stage further by donning zombie/Scream-style Halloween masks and playing in green light the whole way through its funksome set. Click past the jump for more!

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Photographs by Taso Hountas

The last couple nights of CMJ were real bummers on the weather front; it seemed destiny that my last show of the fest was courtesy of a band called Rain Machine. First up was Sharon van Etten, though, and her voice pierced through the Bowery Ballroom crowd just as it did when she played our offices a few months ago. Fresh off of a tour with Great Lake Swimmers and back on another with Rain Machine, this local gal is well on her way to winning new fans all over the country.

Rain Machine performed after Van Etten, and it was good to see that Kyp Malone’s Afro and beard are back in unruly condition. The band has a bit of a wild nature, too—especially when compared with Malone’s main gig, TV on the Radio, a group that has polished its sound (arguably overly so) in the past few years. Rain Machine’s songs aren’t quite up to the TVOTR standard—a level at which Malone will unfortunately never cease to be measured—but watching the band makes you appreciate Kyp Malone’s skills and distinct voice. When the rest of the group left the stage and Malone stood alone with his guitar (singing and talking about a long, rambling song that doesn’t appear on the new Rain Machine album), it was impossible not to think that he was a little crazy, but more impossible not to want to hear more.

Note: The photos above include Rain Machine, Sharon van Etten, Imaad Wasif, Threes and Nines, and Stricken City.

Photographs by Lizz Kuehl

Friday night at the Fillmore New York at Irving Plaza, the bill was anchored by the stellar electrodance troupe Hercules and Love Affair. Antony, who sings on “Blind” and other tunes from the group’s debut record from last year, doesn’t appear with Hercules live, but that didn’t mean DJ Andy Butler and his cohorts couldn’t get down on their own. Quite the opposite; see the photos above for evidence.

Photographs by Taso Hountas

Mr. ex–Whitney Houston took the stage at B.B. King’s on Friday night, as one of the bigger names at this year’s CMJ Music Marathon. See the spectacular photos above of the R&B star, who makes it known which team he will be rooting for when the World Series starts Wednesday.

Pig Destroyer

Saturday’s heavy-metal booze cruise aboard the Temptress might be remembered as an anomalous highlight of this year’s CMJ fare, pairing New Orleans’ grizzled sludge veterans Eyehategod with the ever-brutal Pig Destroyer. The former band’s eagerly awaited headliner appearance was its first in New York in nearly five years, and Pig Destroyer gigs here are none too common either. The show’s producers had a simple yet volatile method: pack the Temptress with a few hundred dedicated metalheads, stuff everyone with a ton of beer and go anchors aweigh for three precious hours. What could go wrong?

Thankfully, nothing did go seriously wrong, though by the looks of the woefully outnumbered security aboard the ship, things were teetering on the edge of disaster. When extreme hardcore trio Strong Intention kicked off the show while rain-soaked fans were still boarding, it became clear that visibility would be extremely limited, to only those directly in front of the stage area. Of course, this caused a constant, scrappy, free-for-all fight for front-row occupancy. This was made doubly chaotic by the mosh pit in the center of the room, whose occupants did not hesitate to climb and subsequently fall from the railing of the boat’s upper deck.

As for the tunes themselves, fans of the heavier genres could not have asked for more. Goatwhore’s blackened death metal certainly packed a punch, but it was when Pig Destroyer took the stage that things really blew up. This band is so explosive, precise and savage—Scott Hull’s guitar could hardly be more distorted, nor could his riffs seem more frantic or unhinged. The folding table serving as a barrier between audience and band was ineffective and got shoved very nearly to the rim of Brian Harvey’s kick drum. The band itself seemed unfazed, and cranked out a blistering set of favorites from its definitive Prowler in the Yard and Terrifyer albums, plus cuts from its most recent full-length, Phantom Limb.

Eyehategod’s set began with a drone of feedback, as band members swayed rhythmically, before unleashing its first of many doom-inflected stoner licks. Its music was masterfully executed. No frills, no shredding, no effects—just riffs, repeated again and again. These grooves are at once filthy and hypnotic, a somewhat captivating and rare combination. Eyehategod is mean, ugly and, after 20 years of existence, not lacking in energy. Notorious frontman Michael Williams tried to incite everyone to “sink this fuckin’ ship,” and one couldn’t be sure he wasn’t serious.—Luke Teegarden

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It was difficult to know what to expect from this set from TV on the Radio’s Tunde Adebimpe as Fake Male Voice—other than the fact that it would surely be mobbed. Maybe it was the drizzly rain on Friday afternoon or the unsexy time of day, but strangely, only a handful of people made it to Bruar Falls for the show. The plus points of this decidedly intimate set? It felt like the perfect match for Adebimpe’s lonesome, but fiery-red solo work. I also felt incredibly lucky to be one of the few people watching the show—undoubtedly my CMJ highlight.

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On Friday evening, Doveman—the talented pianist and singer Thomas Bartlett—performed at the Chelsea apartment of two of his friends. The concert, closed to the public but open to music industry riffraff, technically fell outside of CMJ’s clutches. But it essentially functioned as a rarefied showcase to celebrate the singer’s new album, The Conformist. Bartlett played a brief set accompanied by a string quartet, which he claimed to have met earlier that day. It was the first time I have ever seen a musician begin to introduce his group, then confess that he did not remember the musicians’ names. The gesture was rude yet refreshing, in a Larry David kind of way—leave stage courtesy to pedestrian rock clubs.

After Bartlett finished singing the songs he set out to sing, a string of local musicians took turns on the living room’s makeshift stage. Sean Lennon and his girlfriend, Charlotte Kemp Muhl—whose band, the Ghost of a Sabre Toothed Tiger, performs with Doveman at Mercury Lounge November 1—were at once precious and funny. Muhl, a model, has a surprising voice, breathy and small but bursting with character. Justin Bond, as he is prone to do, stole the night—in this case with a Kurt Weill song.

The crowd was well scrubbed, all pricey flannel shirts and enormous glasses. A black lab made the rounds, proud to be hosting such glamorous guests. As I suspect the dog would agree, it was the type of soiree that contemporary New York needs more of—unless, of course, these things happen every night, and people choose not to invite me.

Duke University senior Mike Posner performed at a classic CMJ hip-hop showcase at S.O.B.’s Thursday night, headlining a bill of mostly new and young talent at the Elitaste x NUE Agency showcase presented by Puma. Above, a video of highlights from Posner’s set with his guests Big Sean, 2AM Club and Eric Holljes. After the jump, a recap of the night’s lineup, featuring Camp Lo, Brandon Hines, Theophilus London, Pill and Freddie Gibbs.
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One of the most celebrated bands performing a CMJ showcase tonight is Múm, the Icelandic act of shifting soundscapes and membership. TONY met with the musicians in 2002, just as they were releasing their second album, Finally We Are No One, and preparing to perform an improvised score to Battleship Potemkin at Brooklyn Lyceum. Read the article here. The band plays (Le) Poisson Rouge tonight at 9pm.

“I heard that someone from the South got booed last night,” Kam Moye said to a nicely filled house at Brooklyn’s Southpaw on Thursday night. The North Carolina rapper, formerly known as Supastition, was referring to the well-publicized incident in which Atlanta’s OJ da Juiceman was booed off the stage at B.B. King’s the previous night (as we reported here). But Moye had nothing to worry about during a CMJ showcase sponsored by local entertainment marketing and PR firm Audible Treats. As he pointed out, he got “nothing but love” from a crowd primarily drawn in by three marquee acts—Bay Area combo Souls of Mischief, the local heroes in Tanya Morgan and a newly formed supergroup, Trinity, featuring Sadat X from Brand Nubian, A.G. and DJ Jab.

In fact, if Wednesday night’s imbroglio was seized upon by some observers as lending credence to a spreading meme about hip-hop’s marginalization, dissolution and impending irrelevance, Thursday night at Southpaw amounted to a four-and-a-half hour “yeah, right”—or stronger words to that effect.

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Surf City

Just before Warpaint’s set at (Le) Poisson Rouge, four people dressed as pandas emerged from the club’s side door and wormed their way through the crowd. It was unclear whether the pandas were associated with the band; perhaps I had missed an explanation earlier in the night. Regardless, Warpaint chose not to acknowledge the panda-suited portion of its audience—an odd decision, for sure. The L.A. band played ’90s-style rock, all brooding guitars and ominous vocals. It left me cold.

Across town, at the Living Room, the Morning Benders’ Christopher Chu played solo, dwarfed by an acoustic guitar and enormous glasses. For his finale, he brought a pack of underage friends onstage to sing backup; they had Xs across their hands, a cult of children. In the audience, a famous label man with eminently skilled ears applauded enthusiastically. Next door at Pianos, Shilpa Ray led her Happy Hookers, wailing under diabolic red lights. On the television, the Yankees lost.

Throughout the night, everybody I bumped into seemed to be en route to a show at the Clemente Soto Vélez Cultural Center, so I headed over to Suffolk Street. A friend was standing outside and I asked her if she was going into the show. “After this band finishes,” she said. “I’m friends with them, but they’re GGBB.” Read more »

The DFA showcase last night was a scene, as expected. The line was long, the hip kids were clad in cool gear and then sweated right through it, dancing. Yacht (read more on the project here) was the de facto headliner and played to a crowd that, little by little, became captivated by its electro act. I say act because singers Jona Bechtolt and Claire L. Evans are a well-oiled machine, kicking out theatrical dance moves and background changes as well as any Broadway production. The last song of the night really got the audience jumping. Here’s live video of “Psychic City”:

After Yacht, DFA don James Murphy and Pat Mahoney spun some discs as Special Disco Version. The duo, typical of recent performances, spun a lot of classic soul and funk in the vein of their FabricLive.36 release. The cool kids…they dug it a lot.

Click through for a couple shots of the famous DJs…

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At last night’s showcase from Arts and Crafts, one of Canada’s all-star labels, driven by Broken Social Scene and friends, the music scene of the Great North was a buzzin’.
The standout act, which came second on the bill, was without a doubt Timber Timbre. The cutely named duo from Toronto began its set by looping the sound of crickets, while strings softly poured over the samples. It was a drastic shift to low tempo from the consistently rock energy of the show, but Timber Timbre’s powerfully dark, even eerie folk tracks managed to keep the crowd astonishingly quiet and positively awed. Each member of the trio was seated, concentrating intensely on their instruments. Softly spoken frontman Taylor Kirk’s voice, strikingly similar to that of Devendra Banhart, dominated the room. The soft accompaniments and experimental sounds (like birds chirping during the last track) added a layer of strangeness and beauty over Kirk’s guitar, kick drum and vocals. When Timber Timbre’s set concluded, a few wows were echoing throughout the audience. Click past the jump for Rubik, Still Life Still, Hollander and Zeus.

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The whipsmart British band Sian Alice Group—by turns moody, ethereal and rousing—has been making the CMJ rounds for the past few days. Before heading to Cake Shop for their final CMJ show—today at 4pm—the musicians stopped by TONY’s office to play a song from their recent album, Troubled Shaken, Etc., on the Social Registry. (Read our review of Sian Alice Group’s Tuesday show here and the band’s 2008 Time Out interview here.)