The Blow [Music Hall of Williamsburg; 10:30 p.m.]

Khaela Maricich (aka the Blow) is gifted with unerring confidence and an uncanny sense of certainty. Those two characteristics were required for her musical-comedy art installation about a deconstructed pop star at the Music Hall of Williamsburg last night. Most in the audience were there to see the more traditional guitar-rock stylings of the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, and may have been confused by the woman onstage giving a monologue about how she wrote an album for a quasi-lesbian starlet that went nameless but was clearly Lindsay Lohan. This is confusing because it is not true. But it's great as a springboard for Maricich's songs about human flaws; she's strident about her vulnerabilities.

"Do I look like a pop star?" she asked at one point, striking an exaggerated hand-on-hip pose. But she wasn't merely poking fun at the artifice of pop-- an often boring and hapless indie pastime. Maricich was attempting to embed herself within the brain of a tabloid deity, exposing the cruelty, innocence, and confusion that binds Lohans and non-Lohans alike. Thanks to her impressive comedic timing and bare-bones DIY aesthetic-- not to mention her own infectious and blippy semi-pop jams-- the performance wasn't only fascinating but fun. It wasn't quite like any other show-- music or theater-- I've ever seen. Maricich doesn't have the best voice or dance moves, but her poignantly amateur singing and gawkily perfect body talk are very much hers. A true original.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart [Music Heart of Williamsburg; 11:30 p.m.]

This Brooklyn band has a knack for quick-strike blasts of fuzz-bubble pop with just enough ache to put them over. In a crowded field, they quickly asserted themselves with their 2009 debut LP. We know this. So, as they get ready to release their sophomore record, is this band OK with being Above Average Indie Fodder or do they want more? The fact that they recorded with renowned producer Flood (U2, Nine Inch Nails, Smashing Pumpkins, basically every other alt-rock hit of the 90s) indicates that they may not want to be playing the mid-level Music Hall of Williamsburg forever. Apparently, they're going for it.

They played a potential new single... which didn't stray much from their formula, though the dynamic shifts where a bit more pronounced. The track seemed to indicate a refinement rather than an overhaul for the upcoming disc. But, as usual with these guys, the highlights came when they shook loose from the jangle a little and amped things up, especially on a neck-jerk version of "Come Saturday". But whether they're destined to indie mainstay status or something else (major-studio soundtracks? commercials? Terminal 5?) is still TBD.

PS I Love You [Arlene's Grocery; 9:30 p.m.]

An easy comparison for PS I Love You is Japandroids. Both groups contain a drummer and a guitarist/singer and that's it. Both are from Canada, albeit opposite sides of the country. Both make what the kids would call rock music. But there are differences. PS I Love You are more prone to steady dance-rock beat whereas Japandroids heave in waves. Japandroids singer-guitarist Brian King is skinny and manic; PS I Love You front man Paul Saulnier is big and stationary. Saulnier is more technically proficient; King is more exciting to watch.

Admittedly, judging PS I Love You against one of the better rock bands to come out of anywhere over the last few years is somewhat unfair. Fact is, the duo sounded strong-- Saulnier's liquid guitar tone recalled Billy Corgan in his prime-- but didn't offer much in the visual arena. This was put into relief when fellow buzzy Ontario resident John O'Regan (aka Diamond Rings) made a guest appearance at the end of the set. With his white jeans, flippy pink hair, vintage denim jacket, Billy Idol gloves, and general eccentric-rock-star swagger, O'Regan easily stole the crowd's attention.

Posted by Ryan Dombal on October 22, 2010 at 9:55 a.m.

Tags: CMJ, Festivals, The Blow, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, PS I Love You

1975

Louis Prima & Keely Smith: "I'm in the Mood for Love"

Franklin Bruno: Before I start: I'm narrowing down my choices to duos, or at least bands whose core members come in pairs, as a way of threading one possible path through a promiscuous listening history, and also to commemorate John's and my revived (though never truly dead) collaboration. I don't have any general insights to offer about the duo dynamic: The process remains mysterious to me (I can't speak for John), and even though I try not to be a romantic individualist in either art or politics, I'm a little dubious of claims about "collective consciousness" or the like. So, to business.

My earliest musical memories are of my dad playing and singing Rodgers and Hart and Irving Berlin standards on the piano, as well as his own unpublished songs, which he's been writing since the 1940s (and still is). There was more sheet music around our home than records, but one of the hipper LPs (besides Ella Fitzgerald's Gershwin songbook) was a 1958 Capitol compilation called Popular Jazz Gold Album, which included this not-very-reverent reading of a Jimmy McHugh/Dorothy Fields standard. For those who don't know, saxophonist/bandleader Prima and his singer wife Keely Smith (who's still performing) were the hottest nightclub ticket in Vegas though the 1950s and 60s. As a kid, I wouldn't have been able to recognize Prima's vocal debt to Louis Armstrong or his band's to Louis Jordan's proto-R&B-- I was responding to the swing, and the spontaneity.

1977

Elton John and Kiki Dee: "Don't Go Breaking My Heart"

John Darnielle: I'm pretty sure I "bought" this-- i.e., talked my mom into buying it for me-- at a lamented-by-me-alone department store called Gemco, on Indian Hill between San Bernardino and the onramp to the 10. Big old sign on a pole in one of those immense California parking lots which for better or worse became the standard throughout the nation, red letters revolving in the air: GEMCO.

Their small music section was a Saturday morning powerhouse of possibility for me. Their 45 section stocked the top 40 singles as calculated by God knew who: Billboard? "American Top 40"? In-store sales? It wasn't clear. This record captivated me completely; the B-side was, if I remember, "Snow Queen", featured the unfortunate rhyme-line "like white wine when it's chilled" (rhyming, even, with "hills": for shame). When I hear this now, Kiki Dee's phrasing still sends a bubbly shiver up my neck. Is it memory or the actual phrasing? Who can say?

1980

Barnes & Barnes: "Fish Heads"

FB: I had the usual ear to Top 40 radio as a pre-adolescent (and still have a sweet tooth for yacht rock), but was even more obsessed with the comedy/novelty radio host Dr. Demento, back when he held court for four hours every Sunday night on KMET, Los Angeles' AOR behemoth. "Weird Al" Yankovic, who sent in tapes of himself playing accordion in his school bathroom, came out that scene.

The duo of Art and Artie Barnes were another staple, and their biggest "hit" is a fair indication of where my sense of humor was at the time. (Speaking of yacht rock -- one of the Barnes "brothers" was "Lost in Space"/"Twilight Zone" child actor Billy Mumy, later a member of America). Dr. Demento himself was the FM handle of Barry Hansen, a serious musicologist and record collector buddy of John Fahey's. His show was also my gateway to pre-war jazz (he played a Bix Beiderbecke side every week) and to the grim humor of some punk and new wave (this is where I first heard Devo, the Normal's "Warm Leatherette", and the Adverts' "Gary Gilmore's Eyes").

1982

Jimmy Page: Death Wish II: The Original Soundtrack

JD: Let me be clear: to the best of my knowledge, I have never heard this record. It took me a long time to warm up to Led Zeppelin. From grade school on, I only owned III, and I didn't really get it, though I loved "Immigrant Song". In 1982, I was listening to Lou Reed, and the first and second Psychedelic Furs albums but God please not the third one, and Adam and the Ants and ABC and more terrible prog than I'd care to admit.

But I was also haunting the cut-out bin, where the Death Wish II soundtrack reliably peered out in its dozens from the racks. It was a visual fixture of the year for me. I believe in albums not only as vehicles for music but also as powerful personal totems, and the impact of this record on my visual landscape that year on my writing, I don't think it's a light thing to have in your head, flashing on and off from time to time: Death Wish II. Death Wish II. Death Wish II. Like a billboard worming its way into my interior landscape. I hear, incidentally, that the record is good, but who wants to demystify a reliably opaque metaphor?

1985

Slow Children: "President Am I"

FB: This dates from 1982 or 1983, but it's representative. By high school, I was all about new wave, the more anxious and angular the better. Guitars were just fine, but so were synths. I never connected nearly as solidly with classic rock, which seemed slovenly and threatening. (This wasn't a coterie taste in mid-80s Southern California, where KROQ championed Soft Cell and Sparks-- though I now see that waver/hesher tensions were generally arrayed along class lines. I wasn't viewed as a weirdo until I graduated to the Minutemen, the dB's, and Salem 66 via KSPC, the local college radio station. I digress.)

Slow Children-- no relation to a current Minneapolis nu-metal band-- were a songwriting vehicle for guitarist Andrew Chinich and singer Pal Shazar (a kind of art-house Cyndi Lauper, whose moment she preceded by a few years). Shazar and Chinich were the group's faces, but their keyboardist was Stephen Hague, who later went on to production fame with OMD, New Order, and the Pet Shop Boys. Their two albums work the fragmented-forms-reflecting-fragmental-mental states angle with more musical and lyrical invention than many better-known artists. Nothing Painted Blue covered this on a 1995 seven-inch, mostly because I was psyched when I learned to play the synth hook on guitar without losing count. Just last week, I came across a New York blogger who has posted their entire catalog-- seemingly with the members' okay-- as a zip file. It's here, and recommended.

1987

Celtic Frost: Into the Pandemonium

JD: This wasn't the record that changed my life like it was for a lot of people; the CF record that upended the way I looked at music was actually a three-song EP called Tragic Serenades, which I'd bought on cassette at Music Plus. But Into the Pandemonium, with its cover of "Mexican Radio" and its awkward techno move "One in Their Pride" and the bizarre Christian Death nods in some of the vocals ("Mesmerized") and above all in its tour, which I caught at Fender's Ballroom in Long Beach, was Celtic Frost's moment.

I think this time period in metal is one of the most remarkable times in rock history: a bunch of guys around the world are sorting through information, half on instinct and half blind chance, and coming up with a mishmash of goth and thrash and pre-90s techno, and combining it with something that came from deep within and was entirely self-guided.

1990

Wckr Spgt: "Assault TV"

FB: I've written about them at length in the liner notes to a recent tribute compilation, but it can't be said too often: Wckr Spgt are the forefathers (or maybe creepy uncles) of the Inland Empire scene that eventually produced Shrimper Tapes/Records.

Mark Givens and Joel Huschle, the constants, were already releasing cassettes locally by 1983, and they've been unendingly prolific and unfailingly innocent of any sensible approach to commerce ever since. (Their website lists 1,248 songs, all available for free download.)

John went to high school with them and was in the Congress with Mark. I came to know them when one of their more accessible incarnations played many, many Pomona College parties-- the song I'm picking was a staple of those shows. I began playing guitar with them shortly after, and still do when I'm back in California. The fact that John and I took up a discrete band name back when we were four-tracking together in Claremont may have something to do with Wckr Spgt's habit of sticking a new label on every conceptually-driven side project (the Bloody Hawaiians, the Crunch Sisters, the Monroe Pole Show), even when the "concept" was "the 15 songs we wrote and recorded today."

1992

Queen Mother Rage: "Slippin' Into Darkness"

JD: This actually came out in 1991, but I'd been living in employee housing on the grounds of a state hospital without cable TV in my room, and most anything new I learned about during that time came from random purchases of things that looked interesting to me.

I have goth blood; any artist who gives herself a name like "Queen Mother Rage" is going to get my attention. And really, anybody who wasn't into rap in the early 90s missed out on one of the most fun, fluid, vital times in music, in any genre anywhere, ever. I bought cassingles. I bought them if I'd heard them and they sounded good, and I bought them if they looked cool. Ice Cream Tee, "Can't Hold Back". X-Clan, "Funkin' Lesson". The Flower Shop mix of "The Humpty Dance". I would listen on the same boombox I was using to record The Hound Chronicles.

1995

Mecca Normal: "Follow Down"

FB: This five-year-interval conceit skips over my most single-minded period of devotion, both as practitioner and audience, to the "indie ock" cause. By 1995, I had moved out of the Claremont post-college boho house where, among other things, John and I recorded our early compilation tracks and first single, and headed out to L.A. proper to start grad school; my record collection was expanding in heterodox directions as well.

All that said, Vancouver's Mecca Normal has been a big deal to me before, during, and after this period. I knew their first album and K singles in college radio days, kept a respectful, admiring distance from them at the International Pop Underground festival in 1990, and their most recent full-length, The Observer, was one of my favorites of 2006. Besides being one of those too-rare bands for whom "independence" is more than a subcultural marketing tool, they're a real case of more-than-the-sum-of-its-parts magic. David Lester is a stellar punk rock guitarist whose playing, however muscular, never comes off as macho, and Jean Smith has remained a confrontational feminist voice and presence even as her words have moved from agit-prop ("Strong White Male") to an allusive approach I'll lazily call "poetic", to the heart-rending narratives of their last two records. I'm picking an early-ish single. Nod to Virginia Woolf aside, the lyrics leave maximum room for interpretation, while the charging riff renders comprehension-- and the need for a rhythm section-- moot. I swear I'll cover this someday.

1997

Ratt: Collage

JD: I'm the only person who ever heard this record outside of people directly affiliated with Ratt. It is a very confused record, adrift in a world into which it can't find a place to fit. I wrote a long piece about it for my friend Sam's lit mag, The Wilshire Review. It features a song called "Ratt Madness". No points if you accurately guess that the chorus of "Ratt Madness" consists mainly of the song's title, repeated a few times. By this point in my listening, I have gravitated almost exclusively toward outliers.

2000

Steve Lacy/Roswell Rudd: "Koko"

FB: This disc happens to have been released in 2000, but it stands in for a range of interests during a fin de siècle crisis that I don't think was unique to me. In the late 90s and early 00s, the whole project of guitar-band rock, and maybe even of songwriting, seemed, if not over, at least over-mined to many of my contemporaries. This was tough for me, because I was appreciative of but not truly enthusiastic about the most acclaimed "post-rock" and electronica artists of that period-- not to mention all the trend-hoppers who suddenly went from being Pavement copyists to representing themselves as "sound artists".

My reaction was to gravitate toward musical theater cast recordings (which I won't force on Pitchfork readers) and left-of-center jazz. I don't know a better term for what I was listening to, but I've always been more drawn to jazz that takes free and "non-idiomatic" techniques as a resource rather than the whole of the law: more Braxton than Ayler, more AACM than AMM, more Dutch improv than British.

The quartets co-fronted by Lacy and Rudd are a good example of what I mean. The pair met on a boring Dixieland-revival gig, and, years before they were well-known individually, stretched themselves in a mid-60s "workshopping" quartet that dug deep into lesser-known Thelonious Monk compositions that few other musicians were playing at the time. That group is documented on the annoyingly out-of-print School Days. The leaders revisit some of the same tunes on the reunion disc Monk's Dream, but I'm going with their take on Duke Ellington's "Koko" because it's a more concise showcase for the heat-generating friction between Lacy's incisive, almost analytical soprano sax vocabulary and Rudd's avant-gutbucket trombone.

2002

Summoning: Let Mortal Heroes Sing Your Fame

JD: I wasn't listening to this when it came out in 2002. I was listening to Hate Eternal, who also made an unbelievable metal album that year. But if I weren't a guy who tends to hold his own past against himself with a real vengeance (I was a fantasy-lit geek in junior high), I might have also listened to this, which is an album that has been kicking my ass all through 2010.

I love the hell out of this band. They inspire me. They make exactly the records that they want to make, without regard to fashion or trend, and seemingly without regard for any voices in their heads which must surely occasionally pipe up and say: "Really? Another album of songs with themes taken directly from Tolkien?" Real talk though. If you don't respond to "In Hollow Hills Beneath the Fells" you need to get your hat and coat. If you do not love these riffs, you cannot sup at my table. Period.

2005

The Go-Betweens: ""Surfing Magazines", "Orpheus Beach"

FB: It would be criminally misleading not to include the Go-Betweens on this list, as Robert Forster's and the late Grant McLennan's songs have been a near-constant presence in my life for twenty-odd years now, both as musical model and personal comfort. (And let's also spare a thought for Lindy Morrison's drumming in the band's classic 80s line-up.)

I encountered them by luck in high school, because the Bleddyn Butcher cover photo to their "Part Company" 12" was intriguing, and it cost 37 cents because of a small tear in the back cover. It's hard to count the ways they've been important to me since: McLennan's facility with a hook, Forster's subtle theatricality, the etched specificity of their lyrics, their refusal to concede, even for a moment, that the fact that they were a bit bookish meant that they couldn't express rich emotional lives.

Their last pre-hiatus albums, Tallulah and 16 Lovers Lane, came out while I was a college DJ (at the very station I'd been listening to in my high school bedroom a few years earlier); then the songwriters took a 10-year break from one another, except for a few acoustic duo shows, before reconvening under the band name in 2000. By this time, it was clear how distinct Forster and McLennan's respective songwriting voices had become-- and also how much they stepped up their game when they worked together.

2007

Amy Grant: The Storyteller Collection

JD: Without going into detail, 2007 was a hard year for me. In scenes eerily reminiscent of my adolescence, I spent much of the year curled up in a ball with headphones on, crying without being able to stop. This is not an exaggeration. I did it in cars, in hotel rooms, backstage, at friends' places. Everywhere. There were a bunch of records that saved my skin that year, but none that I turned to more constantly than Amy Grant's career-retrospective box set The Storyteller Collection. She is a tower of strength. She is a consummate artist. I don't know that I can explain how I feel about her, though at some point, I'll finish the article I started writing about her on the night I flew out to see her in Greeneville, Tennessee, and maybe that will clarify it some.

2010

Everly Brothers: "Man With Money"

FB: I could front about No Age or Sleigh Bells or Buke & Gass, but if I'm honest, the Everly Brothers are the single artist I've listened to with the most pleasure and admiration over the last two or three years. Like anyone with a heart and ears, I've always loved their dozen-odd oldies-station perennials ("Cathy's Clown" was the first song the college version of Nothing Painted Blue ever played live), but I didn't know the deep cuts until Collector's Choice started reissuing their original Warner Bros. albums on CD (a less daunting investment than those hulking Bear Records box sets).

The Everlys didn't see much American chart action after the British Invasion, but they were a solid live attraction in the UK and Europe, and several of their mid-60s albums are as strong, and often harder-edged, than their 50s singles. (I'd start with In Our Image and Gone, Gone, Gone.)

I'm tempted to choose one of several non-hits ("Just in Case", "Radio and TV") penned by Felice and Boudleaux Bryant, the husband-and-wife team that also wrote "Bye Bye Love", "Wake Up Little Susie", and something like 2,000 songs for various country and pop artists. But since I'm a sucker for songs where X can't win Y's love because X is poor ("Cooler Than Me", "Fuck You", most of the Four Seasons' catalog), I'll end with a co-written Don and Phil Everly original from 1965-- a song the Who thought enough of to cover as the B-side of "I'm a Boy" a year later.

2012

Quetzalcoatl: I Have Returned in Fire

JD: Quetzalcoatl is #1 in New York City! You heard it here first!

Posted by Tom Breihan on October 22, 2010 at 8 a.m.

Tags: The Extra Lens, John Darnielle, Franklin Bruno, The Mountain Goats, 5-10-15-20, Interviews,

Guided By Voices Tribute LP:

The Flaming Lips: "Smothered in Hugs"
Western Civ: "Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory" and "My Valuable Hunting Knife"
Cymbals Eat Guitars: "Gleemer"
Sorry About Dresden: "Echos Myron"
Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit: "Everywhere With Helicopter"
Crooked Fingers: "Tractor Rape Chain"
Elf Power: "Man Called Aerodynamics"
I Was Totally Destroying It: "I Am Produced"
The Pneurotics: "I Am a Tree"
La Sera: "Watch Me Jumpstart"
Kelley Deal with Buffalo Killers: "Scalding Creek"
Blitzen Trapper: "Hot Freaks"
Superdrag: "A Salty Salute"
David Kilgour (The Clean): "How Loft Am I"
Thurston Moore: "Stabbing a Star"
James Husband (Of Montreal): "Buzzards and Dreadful Crows"
Twin Tigers: TBA

Digital EP:

Marie Stella: "Little Lines"
Free Electric State: "Weedking"
Mass Solo Revolt: "Gold Star for Robot Boy"
Gregg Yeti: "Quality of Armor"

Posted by Ryan Dombal on October 21, 2010 at 3:35 p.m.

Tags: Guided By Voices, Cymbals Eat Guitars, Blitzen Trapper, Thurston Moore, New Releases, No More Fake Labels,

Of course, Goldust, the tape's namesake, inspiration, and cover model, is the alter-ego of Dustin Runnels, a flamboyant veteran pro wrestler who wears a blonde wig and dresses up like an Oscar statue. This is not somebody that most rappers would name a mixtape after. Just saying.

And if you've ever wondered how Lil B would sound rapping on Mobb Deep's deathlessly sinister "Quiet Storm", check out track five.

Posted by Tom Breihan on October 21, 2010 at 1:40 p.m.

Tags: Lil B, Audio

At this point, we'd probably be more surprised if Jack wasn't the first guest, considering his BFF status with Conan. (See: Conan's recent spoken-word single for Jack's Third Man Records, previous live musical collaborations, the fact that the last time we saw the White Stripes play together was on Conan's final "Late Night" broadcast.)

No word yet on whether Jack will play all by his lonesome or with others.

Posted by Ryan Dombal on October 21, 2010 at 12:40 p.m.

Tags: Jack White, Conan O'Brien, TV,

The news comes days after U2 manager Paul McGuinness told The Irish Times, "I would expect a new U2 album sooner than anybody thinks. I would guess early 2011 before the next leg of the American tour which starts in May." (The band has been playing several new songs live as of late.)

Bono also told The Age that there's a "club" U2 album in the works featuring collaborations with Lady Gaga producer RedOne, will.i.am of the Black Eyed Peas, and French house-pop producer David Guetta. After staying in neutral for the past couple albums, it looks like U2 are finally trying some new things again-- we'll see how it works out.

All upcoming U2 tour dates can be found here.

Posted by Ryan Dombal on October 21, 2010 at noon

Tags: U2, New Releases, Danger Mouse,

Crystal Castles:

10-21 Nottingham, England - Rock City !
10-22 Manchester, England - Academy !
10-23 Leeds, England - Metropolitan University !
10-24 Norwich, England - UEA !
10-26 Amsterdam, Netherlands - Paradiso !
10-27 Luxembourg City, Luxembourg - Rockhal !
10-29 Lille, France - L'Aeronef !
10-30 Paris, France - La Cigale !
10-31 Bordeaux, France - Le Krakatoa !
11-02 Madrid, Spain - Sala Heineken
11-04 Poro, Portugal - Teatro Sa Da Bandeira
11-06 Bilbao, Spain - Kafe Antzokia
11-07 Barcelona, Spain - Sala Apolo
11-09 Bologna, Italy - Estragon $
11-10 Fribourg, Switzerland - Fri-Son $
11-11 Munich, Germany - 59:1 $
11-13 Vienna, Austria - Flex $
11-14 Prague, Czech Republic - Lucerna Music Bar $
11-15 Berlin, Germany - Lido $
11-17 Copenhagen, Denmark - Vega $
11-18 Stockholm, Sweden - Debaser $
11-20 Malmo, Sweden - Babel $
11-21 Oslo, Norway - John Dee $
11-23 Hamburg, Germany - Uebel & Gefahrlich $
11-24 Cologne, Germany - Luxor $
12-11 Minehead, England - All Tomorrow's Parties
01-17 Osaka, Japan - Club Quattro
01-18 Tokyo, Japan - Liquid Room
01-21 Auckland, New Zealand - Mount Smart Stadium
01-23 Gold Coast, Australia - Parklands
01-26 Sydney, Australia - Olympic Park Showgrounds
01-30 Melbourne, Australia - Flemington Racecourse
03-02 San Diego, CA - House of Blues
03-03 Pomona, CA - Fox Theatre
03-04 San Francisco, CA - Warfield Theatre
03-06 Portland, OR - Roseland Theater
03-07 Vancouver, British Columbia - Commodore Ballroom
03-08 Seattle, WA - Showbox at the Market
03-11 Minneapolis, MN - First Avenue
03-12 Chicago, IL - Riviera Theater
03-13 Royal Oak, MI - Royal Oak Music Hall
03-15 Philadelphia, PA - Theater of Living Arts
03-16 Washington, DC - 9:30 Club
03-18 New York, NY - Terminal 5
03-19 Boston, MA - House of Blues
03-26 Miami, FL - Ultra Music Festival
04-02 Toronto, Ontario - Sound Academy

Posted by Ryan Dombal on October 21, 2010 at 11:35 a.m.

Tags: Crystal Castles, Tours,

Candy Claws [The Delancey; 1:45 am]

To say that things weren't going smoothly at the Lefse/ I Guess I'm Floating showcase at the Delancey would be an understatement. When I arrived at around half past midnight, folks were milling about while bands were playing, chatting and drinking with little regard to what was taking place on the Delancey's small stage. Apparently, technical problems earlier in the night had caused a fairly lengthy delay in the schedule, which meant that the Colorado-based outfit Candy Claws, who were supposed to hit the stage at 12:25 a.m., actually went on at around 1:45 (the time that the night's headliner, How to Dress Well, was supposed to play).

Safe to say that Candy Claws were up against quite a bit, and the fact that their particular brand of squishy bliss-pop relies on an appropriately hushed, intimate setting was another obstacle in their path. I wish I could say that they cleared that hurdle adequately. Although the highlights from their debut, Hidden Lands, were more or less note-for-note (if maybe a little too blurry-sounding at times), Ryan Hover's softly-delivered vocals were barely audible above both what was taking place on stage and the din of the chattering audience. Maybe next time.

How to Dress Well [The Delancey, 3:30 am]

The last time Tom Krell brought his How to Dress Well to NYC was in early August, about a month before his excellent debut Love Remains was released. There was a fair amount of buzz surrounding his performance, and with good reason: his lower-than-lo-fi, blown-out recontextualizations of R&B signifiers carries an air of spiritual mystery. Other than a wishy-washy review he'd received in NME for a show he did in London a few weeks before, nobody really knew how this project's material would translate to a performance setting-- and neither did Krell, it seemed. His "performance" turned out to be him singing along to backing tracks in front of projections of images and clips from video auteur Jamie Harley. He was in good spirits, smiling and chatting throughout, and he seemed to be playing to his friends that were in attendance, but more than a few people who stayed past 2 a.m. to watch the deal go down were more than a little perplexed, if not outright frustrated.

There was word that, following that show, Krell had re-thought his live setup for CMJ, that he had teamed up with dream-pop duo Houses as his backing band-- a choice that made little aesthetic sense (if not geographic, since both artists are situated in Chicago), but one that at least gave hope that he would put a little bit of effort into the presentation at his set at the Delancey. Unfortunately, like Candy Claws and a great number of other bands on the bill, the schedule problems of the night worked against building anticipation for Krell's set, as the crowd thinned out considerably before he finally took the stage, sans backing band, at 3:30 a.m.

What followed was a rushed replication of the non-performance that took place back in August-- only with more technical problems, from backing tracks acting up to a microphone cutting in and out at points. If you had been at that previous show, "Ugh, not again" was an understandable reaction. Maybe Krell was supposed to perform with his new setup but the delays made that impossible; maybe he had planned this particular setup for this set from the get-go, although audience murmurings suggested that wasn't the case. He still has that fantastically unreal falsetto'd-out voice, but it's inarguable that the deck was stacked against him overall for this particular performance, and he seemed to know that. Hopefully he's faring better (and trying harder) at the other shows he's been scheduled to play at CMJ, and hopefully he's having fun, too-- because the chatty, smiling guy on stage back in August was not the guy on stage last night.

Bonus content: Surfer Blood and the Drums played a showcase at Webster Hall, and while our reporter could not make the show, photographer Elisabeth Vitale got these fantastic shots.

Surfer Blood

The Drums

Posted by Larry Fitzmaurice on October 21, 2010 at 11:10 a.m.

Tags: CMJ, Festivals, Candy Claws, How to Dress Well, The Drums, Surfer Blood,