From October 31-November 4, scores of bands flocked to New York City to showcase their music at the annual CMJ Music Marathon. More than 60 venues played host to multiple acts per night, spanning every genre and every corner of the world. Though it was impossible to take in every performance, Performer’s Ashley Willard and Will Morgan hit the boroughs for a delicious taste of the action.

Seattle’s Two Loons for Tea, on this night actually a three-piece, took the stage at BLVD on Oct. 31 and launched into a powerfully haunting set of complex, full-bodied songs. The ambient-tinged, jazz-spiced style was perfect for the dimly lit lounge. Vocalist Sarah Scott belted out gorgeous melodies overlaying the guitar work of Jonathan Kochmer, who remained seated throughout the set. Third Loon Tom Armstrong, on drums and also apparently controlling the canned synths and occasional drum tracks that accompanied the trio, was introduced as a friend who lived in New York City. Scott’s pure, beautiful voice matched the large white flower she wore in her hair, though the lighting on stage left her face in the dark while the other two members were in perfect light. The dreamy style stopped just short of shoegaze, and moments when the instrumentation crescendoed into full blast were enough to produce goosebumps. The band’s strength was in building up instrumental tension and then producing perfectly-timed beats to release that tension, only to build more, while Scott’s sultry alto sailed along on vocals like, “Could you take a photo of my soul before you go.” The trio captivated and devoured the room.

San Francisco rockers Birdmonster began their Halloween set at Pianos in full costume. Vocalist/guitarist Peter Arcuni was The Boss, complete with jean vest and bandanna; bassist Justin Tenuto made a perfect Prince in purple suit and ruffled shirt; guitarist David Klein did his best Joe Perry, though the wig came off early into the sweaty set; and drummer Zach Winter donned bushy eyebrows and chains as manic Muppet Animal. The costumes set the mood for fun, and Birdmonster carried the fun perfectly from the first note to the last. The set started with “Ice Age,” a standard opener for the band that works well because of its slow build with Arcuni singing and playing guitar solo at first and each member gradually joining in. Arcuni’s boyish good looks and charm are the kind that A&R reps dream of; the energy and character of his bandmates, all easy on the eyes themselves, solidify the performance. Birdmonster had the crowd moving and shaking with its brand of pop-rock songs that follow clear paths from verses through choruses and bridges and sometimes explode somewhere in the middle into full-on frenzy. They played the majority of the songs off their latest, No Midnight, finally ending the set much like they started — mellowing down with “Spaceman” as Arcuni again took center stage while the others gradually fell back. With their winning stage presence and high-octane fun, Birdmonster would be (and with any luck, will be) a perfect choice to open for big-name bands at giant venues. After the set, an audience member told Arcuni: “You guys remind me of [The Replacements] — except you have bigger balls.”

Los Angeles’ Irving followed Birdmonster at Pianos, with a contrasting but equally enjoyable set of dreamy synth-led indie rock. The songs sounded like a modern soundtrack to a John Hughes movie, the perfect background to a climactic kiss between the likes of Molly Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy. The five members stayed in place at their instruments and mics, playing convincingly sincere and lovely songs that pulsed with emotion. They were skilled and polished performers who hit the right notes, both literally and figuratively. At the end of the second song they faded out perfectly just like on a recording, slowly diminishing in sound until they reached silence. An air of sophistication surrounded the band, who used space-age synth and vocal effects on occasion but in a non-showy, subdued way. A highlight was “Death In the Garden, Blood on the Flowers,” the title-track from their latest full length, during which the background ooh-ooh-ooh vocals were channeled through effects that made them sound almost kazoo-like. Their melodies were classic but not mundane, and their vocal harmonies were rich. Irving has deservedly garnered quite a bit of attention and praise, and the band’s live set was eloquently delicious.

On Wednesday, Nov. 1, a Boston showcase was underway as Sarah Borges and the Broken Singles packed the 169 Bar for their toe-tapping set. Borges doesn’t exactly look the part of urban honkytonk princess, but she plays it well, backed by her motley crew of rock ‘n’ rollers with solid chops of their own. Their songs played up the twang, but just when the time came to put on a cowboy hat, a rock guitar solo delightfully stirred things up. Borges, whose slightly gravelly voice recently won her a Boston Music Award for Best Local Female Vocalist, has a charming stage persona and is playful with her bandmates, most often with bassist Binky, who has been known to run around a room with his wireless bass (but couldn’t on this night due to a full house). The set momentarily transported the audience from the Lower East Side of Manhattan to a roadhouse bar in the south.

Furvis came on next and dove right in to a set of catchy pop-rock with infectious beats. The foursome played well-crafted and reputable indie melodies, and excelled with dynamics like perfectly times pauses between chorus and verse. This night happened to be drummer Noah Rubin’s birthday, and when this was revealed, singer/guitarist Michael Ian Cox comically stated, “Feel free to bring up shots for the band — but not the drummer, he’s already wasted.” All in all it was a crowd-pleasing set, and the lighthearted and fun mood the band established with songs like “AAA Cowboy” didn’t mean a lack of seriously good musicianship — the band displayed its keen ability to interweave complex guitar melodies.

As The Rudds began their set, the house music remained on momentarily and if it weren’t for the un-ignorable presence of lead singer John Powhida, one may not have noticed that they’d begun. Soon enough J.Po and co. consumed the room with the R&B-influenced “Keep My Love,” at the end of which Powhida began to channel Christina Aguilera with his vocal excursions. After playing the same songs so many times, surely his wanderings were his way of keeping things interesting (and anyone who has seen J.Po do his thing knows he always keeps things interesting). The all-star band rolled out its best hits like “Fall In Love Fast” and “Stand A Chance,” clutching onto the audience’s attention with a death grip and giving the crowd all the usual Rudds delights, like guitarist Brett Rosenberg’s emotive “guitar face” and empassioned backing vocals from keyboardist Dave Lieb, bassist Tony Goddess and backup singer Andrea Gillis. Gillis sounded especially fantastic at this show as her mic seemed to be turned up a little higher than usual, making her vocals easily distinguishable from the others’.

The Dents followed, putting the raw back in rawk with a solid set of fast pop-punk stingers. The half-male/half-female quartet hardly stopped to breath, following one song with the next at a rapid fire pace. The energy never subsided but the songs suffered the fate of blending into one another and at times becoming somewhat indistinctive. Michelle Paulhus (bass/vocals) and Jennifer D’Angora (guitar/vocals) took turns on lead vocals, while Craig Adams (guitar) and Kevin Pickering (drums) furied on. A set highlight was “Not Through with You,” which was heavier on dimension, making it stand out. The Dents played to a crowd about half the size of before, and when they finished the room emptied.

Superlow‘s set was plagued by early technical difficulties, and the band never quite recovered. During opener “Too Close,” bassist Peter Abajoli suddenly stopped playing, put his bass down and walked away with urgency. When he returned, he revealed that he had somehow broken his bass, so he borrowed Michelle Paulhus’s for the remainder of the set. It created an odd and humourous sight — the trio of burly men, who looked more thrash metal than indie rock, with a leopard-print-strapped red girly bass. The band played on and served up respectable sounds with the volume turned way up, which created tension with the male bartender who kept yelling at them to turn it down. The band was unapologetic and kept pounding out angst-driven, testosterone-heavy songs, culminating with a song in which singer/guitarist Ed Thill sang “Tonight you’re gonna die” and you kind of thought he might mean it.

It seemed forever before The Chainletter finally began. With six members, the stage hardly held them, and their sound was just as big — maybe a little too big, as it often seemed like too much was going on, creating a disjointed sound. The music was grand and strange, but ultimately the set was marred by long pauses between songs and confusing melodies. The band has a reputation for frenetic and pulsing live shows, but on this night that reputation was not represented as they played an unremarkable set, with the singer at times hidden behind the guitarist. The sound was indeed unique and not like any other band that played over the course of the evening; however, given the strength of some of the acts on the bill, The Chainletter lost out. Perhaps in a more fitting environment they can enrapture a room, as their reputation suggests; but with more awkwardness than inspiredness, this simply wasn’t their night.

It was The Campaign for Real-Time who stole the night, even if only a few hangers-on were there to see it. (The Good Sportsmanship Award goes to Binky, of Sarah Borges and the Broken Singles — the only member of an earlier band still present for the final act.) All three of the rotating frontmen took full advantage of the empty space around the room to get up close and personal with every fan left standing (or sitting). The set was electric, at least until a fuse blew towards the end of the fourth song, “Turn the Gun On Me” — and the band played on! After a moment of confusion when drummer Nick Zampiello (er, Dick Dreyfus, in C4RT-land) and everyone else in the room realized he was the only one whose instrument was audible, each member resumed singing and they finished the song a cappella. They followed this by counting down from 10 in hopes that the power would come back on on cue, and when it didn’t, they exclaimed “Happy New Year!” and sang “Auld Lang Syne” in such perfect harmony that it seemed rehearsed. The band’s theatrics were highly entertaining — at one point, bassist Brick Buckingham stood center stage at an empty mic stand and mouthed along, creating the illusion that he was in fact the one rocking the mic; later, while Lee “Big Game” Bronson was singing, he found himself at a payphone and picked it up as if to sing into it. The ultra-smooth Falconer Model Seven cut up the dance floor in an orange jumpsuit and dark glasses, getting up close to all the ladies. The awkward moment of the set came when the female bartender, clearly enamored with the band, playfully (but strangely) demanded they pay attention to the fish in the bar’s fish tank, whose life she feared had been endangered by the earlier fuse mishap. But she simmered down and the set went on, closing out the long night of Boston representin’ at CMJ on a tremendously high note.

In one of their many CMJ shows, L.A.’s Silversun Pickups played an afternoon set on Nov. 2 at the newly opened Puma store in Union Square. The venue was tricky in that a giant pillar and racks of clothing blocked the view and movement of the crowd, but the band’s overpowering and consuming music filled the store with a smitten audience and kept them there until the final note. As the set began, bassist Nikki Monninger, whose modest stage presence and aura of kindness are alluring, sang softly as the music slowly built up around her. The band then launched into “Well Thought Out Twinkles” and banged out perfect renditions of tracks off the highly intricate and outstanding Carnavas, released earlier this year. Singer/guitarist Brian Aubert released gut-wrenching wails within his upper-range rock howl while the band pounded out rhythms and perfectly timed changes, including occasional vocal parts from Monninger as on “Twinkles.” Comparisons to Smashing Pumpkins abound, though they could be misleading; the Pickups have a sound that’s all their own, and to see them live is to understand the passion and soul in their music that belongs entirely to them and no one else. Aubert commands undivided attention simply with his vocal power; the band backs him up solidly and creates hypnotically dense music. In between songs, they shush each other when an audience member receives a cell phone call, or shout out to friends in the audience who brought their babies along for the show. They are at once an awesome sonic force and your sweet, endearing friends.

We Versus The Shark opened up the Hello Sir Records showcase to a full house at The Tank on Nov. 2. The closet-sized venue made use of every inch of space as only drummer Scott Smith fit in amongst the piles of gear on stage. The band encouraged the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd to move forward and, as they dug in to their chaotically melodic set, no further coercion was necessary. The masses responded to the quartet’s gain in momentum by drawing so close that they occasionally bumped into the band’s microphone stands. Singer/guitarist Samantha Paulsen managed to overcome Bronchitis for the group’s 30 minutes of fame, capably complementing their aggressive post-punk/experimental sound. Throughout the set, the band wielded remarkable control over their instrumentation, shattering massive noise climaxes with clean and precise melodic breakdowns, much to the audience’s delight.

Greensboro’s Tiger Bear Wolf left The Tank’s ever-growing crowd with scarcely a cigarette break before picking up where their labelmates left off. Easing in to their first song with fluid guitar phrasing, the group soon asserted their insistent rock chops as the persuasive cry of Jonathan Moore and Noah Howard’s vocals fueled the mix. Somehow finding room to move, the group’s front line mirrored the convulsive reactions of the audience, pushing their instruments to maximize the level of strident noise. Bassist Matt Bostick served as the central foundation this Thursday night, allowing his quick hands to run the length of the bass neck to propel the group through their raucous, sweat-inducing set.

Cinemechanica proved to be the most dynamic entry in the showcase, demonstrating a flawless musical communication with one another as they wove their way through just three songs in the half hour time slot. While the manic intertwining of Jeremy Fountain and Mike Albanese on dual drum sets served as a visual feast, the band’s elegantly composed yet powerfully abstract sonic explorations had the audience hunched forward in trance-like expectation. Bryant Williamson’s vocals were discreetly laid on top, sweetening the already potent mix. Erica Strout, the group’s newest acquisition on bass, proved her merit with obvious enjoyment. The sight of two full drum kits on stage may make some roll their eyes in response to what seems like an attempt at musical one-upmanship, yet Cinemechanica defers to its proficient musicianship and cohesive songwriting abilities as justification for the distinctive arrangement.

Ho-Ag joined their Southern brethren from Hello Sir Records at The Tank. Fresh off their recent release of The Word From Pluto, the five-piece quickly dug in to their powerfully experimental indie-rock thrash, drawing instantaneous cheers from the expectant crowd. Vocalist Matt Parish, whose smirk was partly concealed by the hood of his sweatshirt, growled electrically, pushing along the band’s insistent, pounding rhythms. At times it seemed as though there were five shows taking place simultaneously, with each member delivering strong, soaring melodies. The Moog stylings of Tyler Derrberry added a spaced-out flavor to the straightforward, percussive explosions from drummer Eric Meyer. Having completed a nationwide tour and a Halloween show under the guises of Devo prior to their CMJ appearance, Ho-Ag has extended its deafening reach well beyond the boundaries of Boston.

Not far away at Ace of Clubs, Charlotte’s MoRisen Records hosted a showcase featuring some of its bands on the same evening. Babyshaker created quite an interesting dynamic, its glammed-up eccentric lead singer backed by a near lifeless band. Bassist Corvette, the sole female member, stood almost motionless and hardly changed her pouty downward glance through the entire set, while singer Scott was all over the stage and even the floor, asking the audience “Am I the only slut in here?” and proceeding into songs with lyrics like “Maybe we could start a band / You’re a rock ‘n’ roll [nigger?!], I’m a fag with a plan.” The sound was somewhere between punk and glam metal, and Scott stole the show — in fact, Scott WAS the show — with his theatrics and eyeliner.

Alternative Champs, wearing nerdy black-rimmed glasses and furry flapped hats, got the crowd laughing before launching into their set and kept them laughing the whole way through. The foursome played humorous but reputable indie pop songs like “Monkey Boy” and “Swimming in the Pool,” a song with a little R&B flavor and lyrics like “You can lead a horse to water / But don’t you let him in the pool / There’ll be hair in the filter / And that’s against the rules.” In between songs they told stories about their hotel’s television options (“CNN, porn and porn”) and the amorous nature of the guests in the next room. Their banter was refreshingly exciting, as were the songs, which were full of great hooks and vocal harmonies. The set ended with them creating a build-up about how their drummer would be singing the next song, and then playing a five-second number whose lyrics were simply, “Fuck that shit.” At that point all four members spoke over one another while thanking the audience and wrapping the set until finally in unison they exclaimed “Goodnight!”

Elevator Action came on next and changed the tone from lighthearted and goofy to balls-out rock 'n’ roll. The full-bodied songs had interesting dynamics and chord progressions that stood out from typical garage rock. Singer/guitarist Eric Gilstrap showcased his healthy pipes, with occasional help from bassist Lauralei Ruroden. During one of the new songs they played, Gilstrap and Ruroden sang beautifully together in unison, creating a goosebump-inducing vocal force. The set was polished and even on the new songs the band played like they’d practiced them a thousand times.

The crowd went wild for The Sammies, who took the stage last and got everyone dancing with their brand of country-fried indie rock. The four members entertained the audience at every turn with comments like “This song’s called ‘The Ho-Down’ so find a ho and get down,” in between playing their high-energy songs. Vocal responsibilities were shared between guitarist Frank Backgammon and drummer Donnie Yale. Guitarist Bobby Freedom played his instrument with perfect fluidity and was so immersed that he kept his eyes closed through much of the set. Bassist Gymmy Thunderbird took the rock star role, wearing a jean jacket and scarf and flaunting his boyish good looks and perfect indie hair. All four members were endearing and they transformed a room full of strangers at a bar into a party with all your best friends. Especially impressive was Yale’s flawless ability to sing and play drums concurrently without seeming at all winded.

Over in Brooklyn, Wild Zero was first up at a Middle East showcase at Union Pool on Nov. 3. The band, led by the Middle East’s Clay N. Ferno, dug right in with its hot and bothered punk rock full of fast riffs and snarled lips. The band’s straight-up, no-bullshit style kept the audience on its collective toes, and N. Ferno proved himself the quintessential punk frontman, commanding the crowd’s attention with his piss-fueled vocals and passion. Their raucous songs were fun and well-crafted, striking good balance between N. Ferno’s vocals and the driving rhythms. N. Ferno stepped aside at moments when the music took the lead, suggesting that he wasn’t one of those lead singers who thought himself the star.

On Nov. 4, the final night of CMJ, Bon Savants were up first at the Mercury Lounge. Instantly their sound infected the room, and for a 7 p.m. set they had quite a respectable crowd. The five-piece’s soaring guitars and beautiful vocal harmonies matched their sophisticated look. The bandmembers are certainly easy on the eyes, but what’s more is how easy on the ears they were. They displayed true heart and soul with their indie soundscape, combining the brooding vocals of Thom Moran with the full, flawless sounds of his comrades. New member Brian Hamilton, on keys, seemed as though he’d been in the band all along. Between-song banter was charming and friendly, provoking a sense of camaraderie between band and audience. As they played songs like the stunning “Between the Moon and the Ocean,” the dynamics they created were brilliantly hypnotic. These are the grown-ups of Boston indie rock.

Chapel Hill’s Cities took up at Arlene’s Grocery and hypnotized the room with their beautifully haunting indie rock. The band played a number of songs from their recent self-titled debut, and didn’t miss a note. Their songs are rich and complex, stylistically similar to Muse and other modern British bands (and such comparisons are often made). But Cities didn’t seem to be drawing from anyone’s playbook but their own as they barreled through their set to a delighted crowd, many of whom had no CMJ associations and just happened upon the band on a Saturday night on the town. The band wasted no breath on between-song banter, launching straight into the next song upon finishing the last. Singer/guitarist Josh Nowlan, the only member with a mic, at times sounded slightly strained — not as if he wasn’t capable of hitting the high notes, but more like maybe he had a bit of a bug. Nonetheless, the set was satisfying and the band proved itself a major force on the Southeast music map.

South Nashville, Tennessee’s The Carter Administration came on next, and played a set of slightly clumsy indie rock songs that didn’t seem to follow much structure. As one onlooker noted, the songs were rife with “hooks that aren’t hooky.” There seemed to be too much going on in each song — instead of following through with a melody, they kept awkwardly changing things up. Call it experimental, and cheer the trio for charting their own course; but be prepared for sonic instability that may grate on your nerves. The band could possibly benefit from the addition of a fourth instrument to tie everything together.

Around the corner, Sacramento’s The Evening Episode took to the Pianos stage and soothed a tired crowd with theremin-heavy dreamy electro-pop. Vocalist Teresa Eggers wore a white tank top and delivered shimmery vocals into the mic while swaying back and forth to the moody and sweetly dramatic sounds. Their style was at times experimental, electro-clashy and spooky, calling to mind the likes of Portishead and Metric, though not as upbeatly frantic as the latter. A standout was “New Love,” during which Eggers sang, “Love, you just can’t get away / Anymore / I feel I’ve lost my / Love …” in circles with a perfectly dragging, romantic voice. The band captured a mood and kept the room on edge throughout.

Following The Evening Episode, Portland’s The Kingdom wrestled with keyboard troubles before finally beginning a set of energized and wholly original indie punches. The group’s look, much like its sound, is varied and a little unorthodox: keyboardist Jenna Roadman is immediately eye-catching with her perfect indie-rock hair and fashionista dress, while singer Charles Westmoreland wields a more country look with his moustache and plain eyeglasses. When he opens his mouth to sing, his body follows his vocals in flailing melodies like nothing one has ever heard before. Their sound may be an acquired taste for some but the band deserves endless merit for creating such an original style. Westmoreland’s voice is the key to the band’s complexity: calling to mind Fine Young Cannibals’ Roland Gift, it stays in an upper range but never slips off key or into uncomfortable territory. The stage at Pianos was smaller than would be desired for the band, who wanted to jump and flail more than it allowed, but they kept up the fiercely passionate energy nonetheless and revived a room that had been mellowed by the previous band.

Later that night back at Arlene’s, Nashville’s De Novo Dahl closed the night with pop songs and stripes. The bandmembers’ orange-and-white-striped outfits instantly prepared the crowd for a fun set, and after working out a few sound problems after the first song (during which time they threw presents into the crowd), the band performed its brand of poppy, energetic music to an appreciative audience. The songs were varied and engaging, at times channeling disco and funk or 60s psychedelia. Where some bands’ songs may blend together upon first listen, De Novo Dahl’s were distinctive and entertaining, which may have been crucial to maintaining a packed room at 1:30 a.m. on the final night of a five-night rock marathon. Whoever was behind the scheduling had some brilliant foresight placing this band in the last slot at Arlene’s.

All photos by Ashley Willard