Every year, tens of thousands of people descend upon New York City for a week of industry types hobnobbing around while more than 1,000 mostly below-average bands perform in 80 venues across the city.
If that doesn’t sound appealing enough, of the 80 venues that let “badge holders” in, about a dozen will let you in if you are under 21.
With that in mind, I made the nearly 1,000 mile trek to attend CMJ.
Knowing my options were limited, I devised a foolproof plan to get me into as many places around the city as I could in a day and then called it quits—seemed reasonable enough.
My day started by picking up my badge in a converted church where KEXP, the University of Washington’s radio station, had set up camp. Seeing that CMJ actually stands for College Music Journal, this was the most collegeiate aspect about the event.
After a stop at the best pizza place in the world—Joe’s, if you are ever in New York, go there and thank me later—I went back to said church because The Dismemberment Plan was playing there.
The Dismemberment Plan started the whole indie rock mixed with hardcore sound thing in Washington D.C. in 1993 and have toured intermittently since then.
The band’s 30 minute set was high-energy considering the 2 p.m. time slot and bizarre venue choice.
After taking the rest of the afternoon off because nowhere would let me in due to my age, I trekked back out that evening for a calculated romp through two neighborhoods to hit four different venues.
One of the best ways to experience CMJ is getting to venues slightly off the beaten path. In this case, I stuck to the beaten path but visited three new venues, so that’s something.
My night started at Muchmore’s, in an effort to see Osekre and the Lucky Bastards. Of course, the venue was running multiple hours behind schedule, so I was greeted with the benefit of hearing two bands I had never heard of.
The Knitting Factory was my next locale, just a quick walk down Driggs Street in Williamsburg, where I met the largest crowd of the night.
The first band of the night I saw there was called Coin. This four-piece caught my attention instantly as they ran through the final 20 minutes of their set. The highlight for me was a cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s “Cecelia.” At the end of their set, the lead singer threw the microphone stand—a fitting close to a raucous set.
Next up was JOY WAVE, a five-piece band that suffered through more than their fair share of technical difficulties. However, once they got going, they had a cool pseudo-electronic sound, complemented by a STS9-like guitar tone and inordinately powerful bass lines.
I then went back into Manhattan where I visited Sullivan Hall, one of my favorite little venues in the Village. While I’ve had good luck wandering in there on random nights in the past, tonight it was not meant to be. I caught some of the Tica Douglas Band, who bored me to tears, then departed just 20 minutes after my arrival.
For my final stop of the night I traveled to the legendary The Bitter End, just two blocks down from Sullivan Hall. There, I saw Your Sister’s Canary in an absolutely packed venue, as I was able to take maybe two steps inside before being met by a crush of people.
The audience was pumped to see this band, as people capitalized on all the space they had to dance. All of the crowd’s energy was turned back on stage in one of my favorite sets of the night.
I closed my night with the only band I told myself I absolutely had to see, Mokaad. This 11-piece band featured three singers on stage, all of whom were fantastic, especially their synchronized dance moves.
The band had a Sly & the Family Stone feel and was the perfect act for after 1 a.m.
All in all, the festival had both its strengths and weaknesses. If I was there for more than just a day, I could have taken in the dozens of panels available. If I was 21, I could have not only consumed the trundles of free alcohol that was given away, but also entered dozens of different venues—some of which featured more household names.
Did you somehow manage to check out CMJ this year? Swap stories with Brian at weidy@wisc.edu.
