CMJ 09 - Day Two

The general feeling among the badge-holding brigade here in New York is that CMJ 09’s line-up is somewhat lacklustre.

There does indeed seem to be a distinct lack of killer buzz-names and the must-sees of previous years have been replaced by mere should-sees.

The band with the most hype, to the point of ‘ok, enough already’, are London’s The XX, who have no less than four shows this week. Their first was at The Mercury Lounge and The XX definitely win the Longest Queue Of The Week So Far Award. Unfortunately, all I got to see of their set was the deeply unpleasant woman on the door – she’s a Mercury Lounge institution – because I was doing something very important (eating burritos) and got there five minutes later than planned. Our photographer was inside a bit earlier though, so even though my words lack all the vital information you’d expect from a review, you can at least see from the photos if they wore nice outfits or not.

As one hack told me over brunch at Heath Ledger’s restaurant today, ‘If you haven’t seen The XX at CMJ this year, you haven’t been to CMJ this year.’ Hmmm… my exhaustion begs to differ. But with that in mind, I fully intend to rectify the situation at The Delancey tomorrow night and will report back as to whether the hype is founded, or just another ‘sensation’ who fade as quickly as they appeared.

Following The XX, and inheriting some of their sweaty audience, were Mumford & Sons, who, like Fanfarlo yesterday, have been compared to Arcade Fire and Beirut. Basically, if you have a multi-instrumental, folkesque band with more members than there is stage, you’ll be compared to Arcade Fire and Beirut. In fact, in the interests of saving journalists valuable brain power, I’m going to take up the ukelele and start a band called A Bit Like Arcade Fire And Beirut – who’s with me?

But back to Mumford & Sons (who sound nothing like Arcade Fire or Beirut, if you ask me), who I’ve been non-committal in making up my mind about. Until now. Marcus Mumford, aka Guy Garvey re-imagined in gypsy chic from times of yore, leads a merry hoe-down of bluegrass twang with a quintessentially English folk edge. Though they played with gusto and boundless energy, the set became a wee bit samey as time wore on, and a more upbeat track would have made for a better finale.

Next up was Bear Hands – one of my favourite New York bands (along with The Drums). Their set was more muted than usual, but it’s a good sign that they were still bloody good even though they weren’t turning it up to 11. I swear ‘What A Drag’ gets better with each listen. And I do listen. Daily.

Tomorrow, my mission is to avoid seeing anyone who draws lazy and mostly inaccurate comparisons to Arcade Fire and Beirut.

Other Day Two highlights I wish I’d been able to get to because everyone is raving about them:

Golden Silvers
Suckers
Screaming Females
Cymbals Eat Guitars
Team Robespierre
The Depreciation Guild

Words by Rachael Wright
Photos by Rachael Wright and Betsy Blundell