CMJ 2008’s lasting impressions
Over the next couple of days, Consequence of Sound will look to put a wrap on our coverage of CMJ 2008 with a series of recap style articles. First up is Elizabeth Grobel’s lasting impressions…
Last week’s CMJ Music Marathon is already the distant, foggy past, but that only makes it easier to single out this year’s lasting impressions.
There was Pepi Ginsberg, an indie songstress with a husky voice that is somehow also nasal. Ginsberg played a short set on Thursday backed by her band Supervision, who added edge to songs like “In My Bones” and “Son” that are folkier in their recorded incarnations.
Then there was the controlled chaos that is New York band The Forms. Their particular, err, form of indie rock was led by clarinet and bass, and overlaid with galloping freeform instrumental digressions to a totally exhilarating and danceable effect.
Norway’s Ingrid Olava sang major chords a la Coldplay with Regina Spektor-esque vocals and 
The Bends-era Radiohead undertones. Pleasant. Inoffensive. Oatmeal. Good for your Saturday morning hangover.
And on that note, you know what? “When did we stop being tough?” So inquired my favorite person in the world, as he stood next to me at the Mercury Lounge last week, people-watching. It’s a question worth considering: why do emo and its whinier derivatives feel like the default mood around town these days?
Don’t say the economic downturn! If punk answered the 70’s crisis, and grunge the crash of ‘89, we’ve got to do better than just puttering about with the sniffles this year.
Case in point: Portastatic. Led by Merge Records founder and Superchunk lead singer/guitarist, Mac McCoughan, Portastatic played a surprisingly touchy-feely set Saturday, filled with enough random indie metaphors (”A spider you can’t catch, a cunning rusty latch/ A weatherman acting coy, a web you can’t destroy”) to make me laugh until tears came streaming down my face and my cheeks went sore, and by that time I think I was actually crying because it was all just so sad. Life, that is. Why can’t you just love me for who I am, ok??
That Róisín Murphy came off as one of the most genuine performers of the week seems paradoxical given the inherent flash and pomp of her stage show. But six costume changes, couture getups (paired with the glam version of LaForge’s silver visor from Star Trek: The Next Generation), and backup dancers only went to show that extravagance can be a form of honesty.
There is something of Madonna in Murphy’s confident and authoritative onstage manner. But she’s less overtly sexual than Madonna was (and is) and maybe for that reason there is a bit of comedy in her act, too. I ask you, how can you wear a plaid jacket with a stuffed deer sewn into it, and antlers on your head, and not have a sense of humor? Paying homage to Bjork is always an interesting move.
So there you have it, folks. Until next year’s press-a-thon, listen well and often. And vote similarly this Tuesday!
Róisín Murphy picture via RóISíN MURPHY blog…
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