CMJness

This past week in NYC has been nuts! CMJ, a big indie rock music festival that happens all over Manhattan and Brooklyn for something like ten whole days, has been rocking my music lovin' butt. Unfortunately, it has also rocked my bank account, but that, my friends, is why I nanny.

Notable highlights from the past seven days of musical extravaganza:

The Gay Blades: A Brooklyn-based duo that relentlessly attacked the crowd with their sassy divaness and hard-rockin' rhythms from the very beginning. The frontman reminded me of Jack Stripe with his flashy guitar solos, melodic yet scratchy voice and intense screams, but added a nice touch of bitchy flair you'd expect from someone like Queen Latifah or Joan Jett. The drummer, an adorable nerd-type who sometimes backed up the singer with spoken word or high-pitched falsettos, only laughed at the antics while aggressively playing his fills. Throughout the night, a cup of ice was thrown at the crowd, my friend was told she was ugly for talking between songs, mostly everyone else was insulted in some fashion, and a large portion of the audience was pulled on stage to back up the singer's ultimate diva closure. I felt like his assistant princess when I got to officially end the music by banging the tom-tom and cymbal with a very worn drumstick he grabbed from his partner and thrust at me (which I then stuffed in my purse for keepsakes). Woo! And to top it all off, they played at the Lit Lounge, this cavernous venue with a twisty layout and extreme lack of light that promoted a kind of eerie and fun desire to get close to everyone.

The Press's costumes: The Press played an okay show musically but looked ultra hot physically. They apparently always dress in Native American costumes, complete with flowy panchoes, war face paint, and bandanas tied around their foreheads, but it was my first show and I fell in love with the look (I also fell in love with the spectacular third floor garden at the Delancey...definitely worth checking out before the winter!). Never before have I been able to watch a group of men jam out while simultaneously playing some weird version of "Cowboys and Indians." It was hot in that adult-who's-still-a-little-kid-at-heart kind of way.

The Woes: This enormous orchestra of random instruments was not a good fit for their venue, the Parkside Lounge, but despite the rough sound mix, they played a fun, solid set. Their gorgeous, dreadlocked lead singer alternated between banjo and acoustic guitar while twangily singing their blues/folk/rock influenced tunes. Their lineup included a pianist, accordianist, alto saxophonist, upright bassist, drummer and trumpeter, and probably something else I'm leaving off. They were packed up there on stage, all dancin' and smilin' and shoutin' along with the words. A good ol' time for sure.

The conversations I overheard: I was totally inspired. Like, every corner I turned would be another group of young people analyzing a performance or talking about their next show or sharing stories about falling off stages or discussing some philosophy behind their art. Dave B. and I would walk into one place, overhear lots of interesting chatter, go down the steps and listen to some music, then make our way down the streets, passing the crowds of music-goers, to another club to begin this process yet again. And let me point out: This all started somewhere around 12 noon. NOON!

The amount of pizza I ate Friday night during 11 straight hours of going out (I realize pizza has nothing to do with CMJ): Elliot came to visit on Friday and helped set off these 11 ridiculous hours. We had an absolute blast bashing in NYC, and I loved pretending like I'm Miss New Yorker who knows my way around everywhere already. Anyway, it all started when I ate a slice of pizza with the girls for dinner, then got off super early (at 5:30!) and met Elli at this yummy and very cool mex place called the Cosmic Cantina. We ate delicious, organic, and cheap food, accompanied with a $12 pitcher of Tecate that was abnormally large. Then we made our way to Brooklyn and met up with some others to enjoy those delicious $3 margaritas at my new favorite bar, Anytime. Then the Gay Blades entered the night, followed by another slice of pizza that entertained us on the walk to the Cake Shop, a club with this very inspiring and funky bar/cafe/record shop on the first floor and an intimate and arsty venue down below. The music was good (Yeasayer, check 'em out) but the below too hot and stanky, so we chilled for a bit and then decided more pizza was necessary. Our appetites led us all the way to Brooklyn to a place called The Alligator Lounge, a bar at Lorimer that serves huge, delicious cheese pizzas for FREE with every drink purchase. I opted for a water and a slice of Lizzy's pizza, who also only ate a slice or two herself, thus leaving half a pizza for the trash can. But wait, fat-ass Elli saved the day! Props to him. He ate so much food that night, it was remarkable.

Somehow, midst all of this I have been working hardcore on my portfolio. If anyone is interested in reading my current stories and offering advice, I'm looking for all the help I can get. I also formed a writer's group via Craigslist to meet every other week and review each other's stuff...first meeting is this Sunday, so stay tuned.