Pitchfork

All photos by William Kirk.

The day began within the sterile confines of the Apple Store in SoHo, where the Decemberists made an afternoon appearance. The band was in "stripped-down acoustic storytelling" mode according to a jovial Colin Meloy, which meant Nate Query on upright bass, Jenny Conlee on accordion, John Moen on a single snare drum (played with brushes), new touring member Lisa Molinaro (of fellow Portland band Talkdemonic) on violin, and, of course, both Meloy and Chris Funk on acoustic guitar (Funk picked up a mandolin for a couple songs.)

The six-song set-- comprised of "July, July", "We Both Go Down Together", "The Perfect Crime #2", "Myla Goldberg", "Yankee Bayonet", and "O Valencia!"-- was lovely and subdued, with the Apple Store's excellent sound system coaxing out the nuances of the Decemberists' folksier side.

The Decemberists [Apple Store SoHo; 1 p.m.]

Then it was off to the Lower East Side bar/restaurant Pianos, for an evening showcase of bands from Norway, sponsored by the unlikely tag team of Vice Records and the Norwegian government. The divinely silly Don Juan Dracula kicked off the proceedings with an overload of lo-fi flashiness, doing an OK Go-like synchronized "boy band" dance and ending their set shooting flames out of their guitars. Don Juan's new romantic synth-glam is fun enough on its own, but when augmented by matching white suits, a keytar, and the aforementioned shenanigans, it achieved levels of Darkness-like glory.

Don Juan Dracula [Pianos; 5 p.m.]

Psych-garage dronemeisters the Low Frequency in Stereo were at a distinct disadvantage following Don Juan Dracula's theatrics, as they played lengthy, mostly instrumental soundscapes that grooved along serviceably on heavy reverb and krautrock bass bounce. But, alas, there was no choreography, costumes, or fire.

The Low Frequency in Stereo [Pianos; 6 p.m.]

CMJ show sluts 120 Days closed out the Norwegian festivities with an obscene amount of equipment for such a small space, but they put it to good use, riding their electro-motorik highway into space despite the fact that half of the small crowd was distracted by the free hors d'oeuvres. The band members are far more animated than I anticipated; from the sound of their ultra-cool record, I expected these guys to be wearing sunglasses and leather jackets and to not move from one fixed spot. Instead, they wore schoolboy sweaters and engaged in unabashed headbanging, frantic swaying, and running in place.

120 Days [Pianos; 7 p.m.]

Over at Irving Plaza, the Blow's Khaela Maricich was on a stage 10 times bigger than the basement in which I last saw her perform. Despite the absence of bandmate Jona Bechtolt, Maricich conquered both the stage and the even more enormous room, winning over the crowd with her lo-fi approximations of flashy hip-hop production. During the "Laffy Taffy" rip "True Affection", which closed her set, Maricich lead the audience in a synchronized Miss America/Queen of England wave. Quite a sight to behold.

The Blow [Irving Plaza; 10 p.m.]

I'm a fan of the raw pop-punk of the Grates' debut album Gravity Won't Get You High, and I'd heard about their infamously high-energy live show, but nothing could have prepared me for the performance singer Patience Hodgson gave last night at the Bowery Ballroom. The club had emptied out after Mew's set, leaving a scattered gathering of about 100 fans and curious onlookers. But Hodgson didn't take the diminished crowd as any sort of slight; in fact, she used it to her advantage, turning the Bowery metaphorically into her bedroom, letting us all watch as she bounced on her bed and sang with a hairbrush into the mirror.

As perpetually smiling drummer Alana Skyring and nondescript guitarist John Patterson bashed out their three-chord bursts, Hodgson whirled, jumped, and tore around the stage, long hair flying and tulle skirt fluttering in the self-created breeze. When it came time to play the ballad "Rock Boys", Hodgson leaped down onto the floor, bringing her mic stand and one of those long fluttery ribbon stick toy things out into the middle of the floor of the venue. Surrounded by a circle of happy fans, she sang the song while twirling the ribbon around her head. From my vantage point in the balcony, it looked like the punk rockest maypole dance ever. The most startling aspect of Hodgson's performance was that despite all of her gymnastic moves, her voice remained as strong as on the record.

Hodgson is compared to Karen O quite a bit (for good reason), and though I'm a fan of both and think each woman brings her own unique spin on the crazy-frontperson game, for one night, Hodgson was clearly the better rock star.

The Grates [Bowery Ballroom; 12:00 a.m.]