At the Cake Shop Paw Tracks/Carpark CMJ showcase on Thursday I stumbled upon the set of this one girl band called Drawlings – really interesting! Loops and vocals that are just really atmospheric and cool. Very cool. I’m pretty into this music but I’m not really into watching this. She’s got an sp-404 I think and a tiny little synth and a digitech that looks like the line6 looper but with a volume pedal. Her samples are different. Pulsing. Reaffirming my notions of the possibilities of music. Reverse drum beats at a hugely slow tempo. Its stunning. Big reverse cymbal swells and looped vocals. She’s manipulating them live I realize. That’s awesome. This is gorgeous and freaky, an underground crystal cavern. Alien and majestic. The place is really filling up. Crowded, everyone calmoring to see this babe. She is stunning sounding – this is just so charged it’s amazing! She’s got this 12 tone glock it sounds like loop going on top of this loop of a church bell and some other atmospherics and always her voice. And the weird thing is it’s actually groovy! I’ve never heard something so infectuous and scary. She might be the stephen king of indie music. Salem sucks compared to this. Sorry. But they do. Avey (Tare from Animal Collective) is enjoying this quite a bit. She goes into this lighter, more straightforward number and shows off her voice a little bit outside of the cloud, it’s stunning. – Dale W. Eisinger

I headed over to Brooklyn for the second day in a row to check out an eclectic lineup at Brooklyn Bowl. First on the bill was Jersey-based Andrew Cedermark, a guitar-focused singer/songwriter. The music was slow – quite the change of pace for someone who used to play the guitar for Titus Andronicus. Cedermark has shifterd from the oober-rock sound, concentrating on music that is fuller and deeper and more reflective. Following Cedermark were more boys from Jersey, a.k.a Big Troubles.

This four-piece group is loud in a lo-fi, shoe-gazy kind of way – if that makes any sense. They were instrument heavy, emphasizing stretched and smeared guitar sounds, fuzzy vocals and a showing off that made-in-the-basement vibe. Next up was Cali-based Baths. Made up of the young and talented Will Wiesenfeld, the sound is all about texture – and within that texture, range. Wiesenfeld mixes counterpoint beats with punched-up synth and echoing, mechanical harmonies. Baths is very technical and detail-focused, with on emphasis on magical and beat-thick tracks.

I then saw Brooklyn-based Tanlines, a nice warm up on a chilly October evening. The duo played some tropical, upbeat, and pop-heavy tunes. Overall, really fun to listen to live.

Later on, I celebrated CMJ at Glasslands with awesome music. This is probably my favorite venue in NYC – it’s intimate, cozy and completely built on art. NYC-based duo Cults have been quite the underground sensation since the release of their wonderfully sweet indie pop single “Go Outside” – and the buzz is definitely deserved. Their Myspace is sparse (and unofficial, and made by the fans) and both the details of their whereabouts and who they are is pretty under the radar. But that’s what also makes them charming. So it was quite the treat to see these guys in action. There’s a perfect airiness to their music – it’s romantic, glowing, subtle and absorbing. The vocals evoke Swedish pop and memories of dreamy childhoods. Cults are modern, creative and introspective. And I’m looking forward to seeing them again. – Alex Vann

Getting a late start in the city again tonight, might try and go back to Brooklyn in a bit. May as well try and do what I did last night, but maybe not so obsessively. Get out at the B’way Lafayette station and walk up Houston. Really hoofing it to the living room to try and catch Buke and Gass. Riposte is a gem of weird. Hopefully Paolo is there and will buy me a drink. I emailed him twice today with no response. A gaggle of hot people outside Landmark Sunshine. Kanye West’s new film is premiering I think and there are tons of good looking black people out there. Paolo is talking about the schedule and points out the next performer: Kendra Morris.

She’s this jewey looking broad in a leopard print onesy and huge hair. I call her over. She got the onesie at the Hells Kitchen flea market. She’s ravishing, shadows under cheekbones, petite and lithe, black cowboy boots and glovelets. An amazing voice. Building into these huge cascades of voices. She is almost unbearably sexy to look at, and she’s a gifted perfomer, not gratuitous but suggestive. She’s this Long Island Aretha Franklin. A respectable, working class winehouse. It’s a soul band full of whiteys, not sure how I feel about that and wonder again about things fall apart. She loves the camera and all the stares and God damn everyone loves her. Because she’s somehow on our level. There’s a lot of empathy, and it’s not just because I’m a nerdy white guy like every single person in her band. Or maybe it’s her leonine form stalking the stage in that basically shrink-wrapped leopard. The horns take a reprieve for this ballad that takes up the topic of: empathy. "Don’t cry for me" she says. Fine. But I’m also going to leave because this is way too straight for me. Looking around though, people are honestly feeling this – people with eyes closed, swaying with knowing little nods. And the drummer is leading this dynamic charge and we build up to let her vocals take the spotlight. She thanks the Deli and people clap. The drummer kicks off with a beat that’s classic Winstons. The drummer is making love to those drums. There isn’t tension on stage between band members – she has to be sleeping with one of them, right? It’s probably because she just exudes SEX and it’s ridiculous! People are loving this. Every show I’ve ever seen at the Living Room has sounded fucking awesome by the way.

Cakeshop next door. Paw Tracks/Carpark showcase. Surprisingly not hard to get in. Avey Tare is right there djing by the door right when I come in. Odd Eastern pop – a little Bali. I hear Deakin was good and then there’s Taraka Larson from Prince Rama and I’m so sorry, I tell her, I’m so sorry that we got her sister’s name wrong in this article I just wrote about them. The Animal Collective boys helped record and mix their new record. Really wish I had some money, really really want a beer. Consider stealing a drink this guy sets down and realize how fucked that is and then regret that I started typing it. This pair of well-but-overdressed guys show up whom I recognize from this Memory Tapes show at Tribeca Grand sometime last winter. Avey is playing some awesome shit and Cloud Nothings I think are warming up. I text Nick who reps Prince Rama: ARE YOU AT CAKESHOP? The band is actually called Light Pollution (from Chicago) and Cloud Nothings is after them. Trying to decide whether or not I should stay all the way through for Prince Rama because Jess tells me about a secret show at Death by Audio and I have literally $0 and she says she might be taking a car. It’s fucking hot in here and I don’t see anyone I know. So thirsty. I decide to go hang out by Avey. It sounds like he’s doing some interesting stuff. So then it kinda hits you how important that man’s music is as Light Pollution warms up. The reverb sounds awesome in this hallway. Usually don’t like the sound here but something is on tonight! I ask the bartender to try running my card for the minimum and it’s declined but I knew it would be. Seriously need to get paid.

Light Pollution is playing this weirdy weird kinda pop with atmospherics, it’s good! (Read the live review on the Deli’s Chicago site here.)

I’ll watch Cloud Nothings, fuck it. Nick hasn’t responded but I know he has a double ear infection and it just befell him when he got to NYC Light Pollution is doing some seriously awesome shit up there! I can’t decide what to do with my night. Walk over and Avey makes eyes at me and he introduces himself as Dave. I’ve seen AC all over the States, I tell him, a number of times. He’s spinning some absolutely wonderful hand drums with jangly melodies and wafting vocals. Well – did you expect crunk rap? I’m so fucking tired, wish I had just one dollar to go buy dumplings down the street. I feel like I recognize everybody. Jess is there writing in a notebook and she tells me I’m only human when I mention I might head home at least for a minute. But I’m a reporting machine I tell her. Cloud Nothings are sound checking and I’m already irritated by the vocals – but what do you expect from a Carpark band? Of course that new album is great and I think they are from like buttfuck nowhere. The place is filling up. And the soundcheck is sounding cooler. I don’t think this is Cloud Nothings don’t they play like some kind of rock or pop or something? This is a girl singing but it’s fucking cool, loops and vocals that are just really atmospheric and cool – called Drawlings from Los Angeles. Very cool. I’m pretty into this music, read the review on The Deli LA site here. Dude just walks up to Avey, who is standing up on this bench to get a better look, and asks how far into the set she is. It’s absolutley majestic and sounds gigantic in the hallway of Cakeshop. Dude didn’t recognize Avey I don’t think. Deakin walks in and he’s wearing those keep shoes, maybe the ones he just designed. And the place is really filling up. Crowded, everyone calmoring to see this babe. With all due respect she is stunning sounding. I realize there is no way I’m going to hold out till Prince Rama. I just want to be here for this whole set, but I will fall asleep.

So I’m going to just say fuck this in the next few minutes. I’m cold and hungry and jonesing and that guy at the bar looks familiar and we all know what’s going on. Too cold vig bar then six train then home. Then to Judy’s then wherever… Sleep. Whatever. Who cares. I need to go. Woah. Good looking girl making eyes at me as she unlocks her bike. And then I’m looking at this other guy and the energies are getting crossed. A fire truck rolls by and all the firemen stare at us. I leave. Walk to the six. I hear a group of people talking about how everyone wants to go home and I’m like "yeah fuck this." Promoters give me free food in the street and I eat it. At the six station, guitar Ron Gibbs is shredding some blues. On the l train platform there is a flute player jamming with a keyboard player with a stunning voice and its cool. – Dale W. Eisinger

Cakeshop, NYC. Paw Tracks/Carpark CMJ showcase. Surprisingly not hard to get in. Light Pollution is playing this weirdy weird kinda pop with atmospherics, it’s good! Kinda twangy, a little spacey, a little punk in the drums. And I imagine none of this would be possible without Woodsist Records. And then they go into this constructed noisy thrash and it’s awesome with the guy’s voice on top of it. And this band kicks a shit ton of ass I just decided. They have a sense of affect that’s quite convincing – party kids who read Derrida when they wake up, or something. Really enjoying the abstract textures and the drummer’s ability to be so multifaceted. This song Drunk Kids starts off like that awesome Zola Jesus song and then harunges the rhythm gently into a cool mellow dance thing. The drummer gets caught in the gold streamers behind him as the dude playing the bubbly synth picks up his guitar again and then they are just this pulsing bright rock band that just makes me want to listen to Ducktails or Sun Araw, but that’s cool, and I’m enjoying Light Pollution for their dispirate qualities anyway. Back on the synth for some more abstract stuff and a rattling tamborine that moves into this awesome upbeat two-step that absolutely fucking rules! "She won’t talk to me!" He bemoans. It’s great. And this deep saw synth comes in and he manipulates it pretty expertly and the drummer does intricate rhythmic stuff and they build it up inconspicuously and then let it break pretty haphazardly with the synth leading the fade out. Awesome, innovative drumming and cool SYNTH BREAKS. I know that sounds anomalous, but there it is. They end on bleeps and bloops. – Read Dale W. Eisinger full CMJ report here.