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CMJ Marathon Runner Dale's day #3: Kendra Morris, Avey Tare + more





CMJ Marathon Runner Dale's day #3: Kendra Morris, Avey Tare + more

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.

avey 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

Published: October 24, 2010 |

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