CMJ Report: No More Trumpets! Ever!

Fishboy album coverCMJ was a headlong rush of dingy basement venues, an endless parade of bands with trumpets, cloth-eared soundmen and lots and lots of facial hair. While sitting and soaking my feet in a hot bath and reflecting upon the days gone by, a few things stood out:

Though Brooklyn itself was fairly annoying, the Sound Fix Cafe was a brilliant place to see a show, best venue of the week by far. The sound was almost perfect, the setting was wonderfully laid back, and the crowd was about as polite and enthused as you could hope for. And seeing the Ladybug Transistor for the first time made the whole week worthwhile.

Standing in the crowd waiting for the Harlem Shakes‘ show to start, some hipster sidled up and said, “Good set.” I said, “Yeah…um…,” and he’s like, “You guys were great.” He must have seen that I had no idea what he was talking about because he said, “Aren’t you the singer for Professor Murder?” Dude, I wish. That guy is a stone fox!

The Brooklyn Vegan party at the R Bar was probably the most unpleasant concert experience I’ve ever had, and that includes almost being crushed to death at a Rolling Stones show. Being smashed into a tiny room jammed to twice its capacity with sweaty, cranky, and extremely tall bloggers, liggers, and curious industry types waiting for Black Kids to finally get their gear sorted out was as close to hell as I ever want to get. Once the band started playing, it was like being transported to some heavenly place where the Ronettes are making out with the Go! Team while the Cure plays croquet with the staff of Pitchfork and the Motown session cats cut the Arcade Fire’s hair. Or something. It was really too loud and hot to hear anything.

Fishboy!!

In the “Hey, You Can’t See them All” file:
Saturday Looks Good to Me
Drug Rug
The Broken West
Apollo Heights

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