After I made fun of CMJ, Scott won four passes to it and very kindly offered me one. Although I tried to see even more, I was pretty happy to see 5 shows in 4 days, breaking my previous record of 4 in 4. I took some pictures. Click for larger versions.
NIGHT 1
THE HIDDEN CAMERAS On All Music Guide it was said that this large group of queer-political kids from Montreal were known for outrageous shows involving up to 30 dancers, strippers and musicians. All I saw were about 7 fully dressed musicians. This disappointed me. They were still fun, but at times I could not help but think of them as a lesser Belle and Sebastian with an unconvincing singer. They also overused the idea of the xylophone following the vocal melody.
THE FRENCH KICKS These guys had solid songs and certainly looked the part, but I'm sad to report the singer is suffering from a severe case of Julian-itis. Sometimes he would pause and simply stare out at the crowd as if he were looking in the mirror, and clearly thinking 'Holy fuck I'm good looking!' (and I don't mean addressing the band Holy Fuck).
THE DECEMBERISTS I was looking forward to finally hearing these guys after several attempts at downloading their songs, then forgetting I had done so and being left with not-easily-identifiable files that contained only the song name. So I knew their song titles very well, just not the actual music. To me, they were just too similar to bands like Beulah and Apples in Stereo, both of whom I've already worn myself out on. I don't need another Beulah. I think I've finally tired of indie pop. Sorry.
After five songs I made my first attempt at a mid-evening crossover by heading over to the Mercury Lounge where Lou Barlow was playing. There was a frozen line of about 15 badge holders, another line of people wanting to pay to get in, and a good deal of complaining to the attendant CMJ rep by people who had paid hundreds of dollars to be shut out. I decided to stick around for the hell of it, and eventually so many people in front of me gave up that I was third in line. At the moment that Lou Barlow finished his set, another CMJ guy came out and asked the bouncer to let in the first 6 of us. That was okay, because still to play was...
THE ARCADE FIRE Another Montreal band, these guys have huge buzz around them, and people seemed just as excited about them as Lou Barlow, who one guy in line had called "The [something]est man in the world." If only I had heard what that something was. The 6 of them who were not the drummer all lined up in a row at the beginning. As reported in the Times (yes, it's already over), the frontman said "Alright, we're the flavor of the month, let's go" to a lot of tension-relieving laughter. A guitar started strumming a deceptively simple rhythm on one chord. Then another guy started ferociously pounding a drum slung over his shoulder and a tambourine in alternation. Then everything came in at once, all 6 of them singing a chant-like melody, with open throats and huge intensity. It completely blew me away and exceeded all my expectations. The rest of the set did not disappoint; their onstage energy far surpassed that of any other band I saw in the festival. When Win Butler told the story of having driven down from Montreal that day and losing their piano out the back of their UHaul van, I was even more impressed with the whole thing, having experienced the counterproductive turmoil that can go along with preparing for even a routine show.
It's hard not to wonder where these guys will go from here. It seems like, perhaps thanks to Pitchfork, the phenomenon of one-hit wonders has come to indie music. There seem to be a lot of bands who hit it relatively big with what's seen as a masterful debut (or second album with a debut that went unnoticed), and then gradually fade in quality. Often it's made to seem that the one album was really their statement as a band, and after that they either didn't change enough or changed too much in the wrong way. But referring to my 'lifespan of ideas' entry, maybe this isn't such a bad thing. The failure to repeat a feat of genius doesn't necessarily make that initial hype unjustified.
NIGHT 2
LES SANS CULOTTES Notice I haven't yet broken the streak of seeing all 'the' bands. But I'm only accomplishing that by not discussing MORNINGWOOD, who opened for Les Sans Culottes, and about whom I have nothing to say. Actually that's not really true, but I don't have any good pictures of them. Les Sans Culottes beat out the all the Montrealites by actually being from France, and the lead singer had the most stereotypical French voice I've ever heard. "ONH HONH HOOONH!" They were good, but the social upheaval content I thought I'd read about long ago was either absent or overly subtle.
After that we elected to skip out on seeing Apollo Sunshine to try to catch Ted Leo at the Knit. Unfortunately we were shut out, as they appeared to make the decision right at the moment of our arrival not to let anyone else in. This was actually quite heartbreaking, as I could hear Ted singing the very song of his that I had been singing in my head on the way over. So Scott, Tom and I drowned our sorrows in debauchery at our Virgin Records-sponsored room in the Hudson Hotel.
Tomorrow (I hope), the Hudson and the second half of the festival.
