CMJ: Dear indie, keep in touch

by Samuel Hernandez

There is passion in music and it comes from the musicians in bands who aggressively defend their right to make and distribute it to anyone they can. Pop music, but not always pop music, is beset with so many factors of capitalism and consumerism, the major label influence that dilutes the final product, that often the final product is a vapid and soulless nod to the original intent. Despite the unpopularity of the following statement, I urge a reconsideration of the double dipping Arcade Fire. Just a couple years ago the band was being hailed as the biggest indie band in the world, despite being on a significant label and being critically acclaimed—David Bowie was already mentioning that Funeral was one of his favorite albums. Now the band is performing two shows in Brooklyn on the 18^th and 19^th, in anticipation of their upcoming album release on the 29^th, and in utter disregard of the CMJ music festival. This marketing ploy is poorly timed, and an unnecessary distraction to CMJ, a festival designed to promote and create buzz behind struggling and upcoming bands. The timing of the show is unnecessary and only creates the idea that Arcade Fire only cares about Arcade Fire.

In contrast, we have the fiercely independent The Lonely Wild who are playing five shows during CMJ so that people will take notice, attempting to get the maximum exposure. Their most recent album was produced on the backing of personal savings accounts and (hopefully) help from friends. Their shows are sweat and blood affairs, a band leaving everything on stage but leaving the crowd wanting more. The new album is a modern interpretation of spaghetti western scores, the loner gunslinger walking into a peaceful town and completely changing the tone. This is a band that would be happy to play beyond the set time.

Another band (which we’ve written about here) played a midnight show at a larger venue at CMJ, giving all fans something to be proud of and continue to root for. Wild Cub saw a venue change, playing the midnight show at Terminal 5. This is a band that is defying expectations, incubated in the countrified air of Nashville, they’re instead bringing out a frenzy of synth and guitar with electricity shooting through the front man. When their set is over, they glibly state that they’ve played through everything they’ve written, everything they know. As with the Lonely Wild you have a band who starts off with the presumptions of a label or geographic anchor, and defies so brilliantly that it spawns a unique sound.

CMJ is the willingness of bands to play as often as possible and wherever. Streets of Laredo, progeny of New Zealand inhabitants of Brooklyn, are your Bob Dylan comparison with a fiercer foot stomping drive. They played a handful of shows, from appropriate venues to sit down lounges. “We’re going to get you dancing regardless of the space,” they quipped during their set at the Living Room’s Googie Lounge. Their songs are both infectious dance ditties, and impassioned pleas. They have something more to say beyond being the Streets of Laredo.

Which is why the self-serving spectacle that is Arcade Fire is no longer welcome as an indie band. Their double dipping allows them to tread over bands in need of exposure while remaining free of enmity. At the conclusion of their hour long set (no openers, no band following) to which people paid near exorbitant amounts, Win Butler, the front man came on stage to awkwardly apologize for being too smelly to play anymore shows. This is where you flocked to Brooklyn, and it’s unfortunate to see what Arcade Fire has become.