Are you looking for spooky Halloween-themed shows? Well, you’ve come to the wrong place. Stay tuned for our guide to legit everything worth going to this Hallows’ weekend. But for now, sate yourself with these totally, 100 percent normal show happenings. Well, strictly speaking they’re not “normal” at all, but you can pretend like it’s not Sexy Something Day for just one minute and stuff your ears with tunes instead of candy corn.
You know how leftovers are sometimes better than the meal was in its original form? That’s also true for CMJ apparently. It seems like some seriously great bands and musicians are lingering around town, taking breaks from their major projects and toying with new ones, old friends, and completely different sounds altogether. You too can dabble in all three this week (and beyond). See what we’ve got for you below.
CMJ is upon us, which translates to either the arrival of a complete shit show or (if you’re not really the observant type) venues suddenly appearing slightly more crowded with douchery than usual. Regardless of whether you’re in touch with the less-than-ideal reality for regular show-goers, or prefer to put on chakra glasses and render all those grayscale suits as rainbow zombies, you still gotta plan out this week just a little better than usual– having your friends drag you out of a cab, splash beer on your face, and carefully deposit your lifeless body at your favorite venue’s doorstep isn’t gonna fly. Instead, you’ll need PMA, advanced tickets, and whatever lies beyond this line.
It’s kind of a somber week (already) for show goers– mainly because one of the most reliable spots for an awesome underground/indie/neo-folk/punk/experimental/whatever show, the Silent Barn, suffered a fire late last week. Everybody’s OK, but the building itself is damaged (more on that later) to the point where shows have been suspended for at least the next month. They’re no dummies, they have insurance. But in order to act fast and get repairs done right-freakin’-now, Silent Barn is asking for donations. If charitable bitcoining isn’t your bag, there are other ways you can help.
It’s an interesting experience being in a public place with M. Lamar. Even in Bushwick, you can feel every eye in the room traveling back and forth between his long, stick-straight black hair, his various spikes, and jet black clothing. The artist– who performed Destruction, his multi-faceted theatrical black-metal opera last night at Issue Project Room— is probably like no one you’ve ever seen before. For one, M. Lamar truly lives his art (which is like nothing else out there at the moment), as evidenced in his speech and appearance: he drapes himself in the darkest blacks and speaks with passionate conviction. “Lately, I’ve been calling myself a ‘negro gothic devil-worshipping free black man in the blues tradition,'” he explained. It’s actually a modest description of what Lamar’s all about.
Where has the sun gone? It’s cool, we needed a break anyway. Thankfully mood-appropriate bands are scooting into town reminding us of our impending doom. This week, scoop up sounds by the dominatrixes of noise, the best of just-above-underground electronic music, and gothy post-punk devotees.
Sure, comics are notorious navel-gazers, but the fun themes at these recurring shows encourage them to dig for more than just belly button lint.
The How I Learned Series
July 29, 8 pm at Union Hall: $6 advance, $10 at the door
The latest installment of this series, “You Don’t Have To Go Home But You Can’t Stay Here,” promises to be worth the price of admission. This show about getting kicked out of bars, being the last loser at a party, “the pursuit of fun,” and stupid decisions will feature Isaac Oliver, Ophira Eisenberg, Nancy Balbirer, Kate Greathead, Lynn Bixenspan and host Blaise Allysen Kearsley.
Gigawatts Fest is happening this weekend, which is great and all — I need my pop fix as much as the next guy. But sometimes I want to be surrounded by sounds that whinge, “I’mmmmmmm differentttttt.” If that’s you, too, get thee to these smaller shows where you’ll find acts that don’t exactly qualify as festival material, if you catch my drift.
If you had a chance to swing by Our Wicked Lady in the hours before their grand opening then maybe you found the loopy singer-songwriter Mac DeMarco throwin down dogs whilst a couple of his new tracks bumped on the boom box. Or perhaps you were stuck behind double-paned office windows, miles from anything resembling summer or fun, let alone new music. Stir not in jealousy, though, for the release of 25-year-old Rockaway resident Mac Demarco’s new “mini-LP” is just on the horizon.