Another night, another round of going from club to club holding out your CMJ badge like Oliver Twist offering his empty bowl. Friday marked the ultimate ignominy: Getting shut out of an Albert Hammond, Jr. show.
7:50 p.m. The Broken West, Knitting Factory. The first act on the evening's Merge Records showcase came from Los Angeles and played medium-volume melodies with hints of the canyon rock that came out of California in the late 1960s. It sounded amiable and friendly, though perhaps the band is secretly depressed: The title of its upcoming album, “I Can't Go On, I'll Go On,” is a line from a Samuel Beckett novel.
8:50 p.m., A Sunny Day In Glasgow, Sin-é. The night peaked early with this show from a little-known but terrific band led by guitarist Ben Daniels and his singing sisters, Robin and Lauren. Accompanied by a drummer and bassist, they make dreamy, woozy pop with bent chords and beautifully dissonant twin vocals. Live, the band pulled off their complex sound nearly flawlessly. (Outside of a studio, it's not easy to stay perfectly, consistently off-key.)
Listen to “The Best Summer Ever.”
9:30 p.m. At the Hammerstein, a security official claimed that CMJ badges were “not valid” for The Decemberists concert. So, how does this concert qualify as a CMJ event, again?
10:10 p.m. At the Mercury Lounge, the doorman shooed away a small flock of fans waiting to see a midnight solo show by Albert Hammond, Jr., the guitarist for The Strokes. But several hangers-on, hoping against hope, were determined to stick around in the 30-degree weather. Imagine telling your friends you spent two hours standing in line to see Albert Hammond, Jr. There's no dignity in that.
11:32 p.m. The Big Sleep, Pianos. This was a showcase from Frenchkiss Records, a label that's newly hot thanks to its success with The Hold Steady. So what was on tap tonight? New York power-trio The Big Sleep delivered tooth-rattling rock that pushed heavy metal to the brink of cacophany. Many of the tracks were instrumental, though keyboardist-singer Sonya Balchandani occasionally added some dour, detached vocals that lent the proceedings a spooky air.
12:40 a.m., Thunderbirds Are Now!, Pianos. This Detroit band has built a following with its fast 'n' quirky dance-rock, but it belongs more to the emo world than the hipster scene. Singer Ryan Allen jumped around and strained his voice while the band crashed out speedy rhythms and bleeping keyboards. The songs tried to be both danceable and moshable, but never achieved either. A random crowd-surfer summed up the show when he unwisely leapt from the stage and fell to the ground with a floor-shaking thud.