T U E S D A Y
CMJ week was a hoot. So many many bands, so little time. Started the week early and got dragged to the Interpol show @ the Roseland last Tuesday. Yes I know, Interpol-- what once was a hipster mecca is now passe. They've become too popular to stay "cool". I still like them though, they're a great droning sound to chill to every now and then. Their new stuff rocked the kibutz too.
We managed to make our way to the front, close enough to actually see the band. But so did everybody else behind us, apparently, and a lot of time was spent jostling for space and elbowing the annoying Japanese girls behind me who kept bumping me for more room (uh, personal space bubble-- hello?!). Okay, fine, I exaggerate. I didn't elbow, but I did dance.
W E D N E S D A Y
As expected, headed over to try and catch the early part of the Teenbeat Records Showcase @ Luna Lounge. Managed to catch The Pacific Ocean, Jonny Cohen, but missed out on the good stuff-- +/- {puls/minus} and Sisterhood of Convoluted Thinkers. Did buy a CD from Mark Robinson, record-label chief and overall rockin musician. In the crowd were kids from the now defunct Versus (sniff), and genuine music listeners. So different from last night's Interpol stint.
We stopped for crepe at my favorite little Ludlow Creperie before heading out to Bowery for Superchunk. The Ladybug Transistor had opened for them and were finishing off their set when we came in. As expected, the crowd a bit older, like-after-work-drink, get-a-nanny-for-the-kids older (and I have the right to poke fun because I'm only 24! hah! but, yeah I missed out on Superchunk super years), Superchunk was an early 90's indie favorite. It was a strange mix of 18 year olds (standing right in front of the stage all giddy), a lot of aging frat boys discussing the yankees game (right smack middle, where they were later to start a mosh pit), and the stragglers (meaning us) who were neither frat nor 18, but wanted to see Superchunk anyway. It was a fun show. At one point one aging frat boy grabbed me by the arm to join their little mosh--- the same frat boy would later be screaming at the end of the show "More! More, come on guys! if we scream loud enough they'll come back out!" (after two encores by the group). Really, sometimes you just have to learn to let it go.
