Pitchfork

All photos by Marc Hogan

Excepter [Hiro Ballroom; 6 p.m.]

Last time I saw these Brooklyn experimentalists, their equipment malfunctioned, New York's most prominent recently fired rock critic was yawning in the corner, and another semi-prominent, notorious rock riffer kept assuring me they were usually actually awesome. At the Maritime Hotel's tony Hiro Ballroom, Excepter were in excellent form, their electro-kraut-noise improv living up to their surprisingly coherent full-length, Alternation. In fact, for all the megaphones, dentist-drill noises, shamanic seriousness, and incongruously goofy headwear, I realized these guys can also be as twee as they are avant-garde. No, for real: One of their more bizarre instruments is a toy monkey with cymbals, John Ryan Fell was totally the only person actually wearing his badge around his neck (so lame it's...cool?), and at one point I swear I heard someone singing, "One boy for you/ One girl for me." If my job is to articulate why I like or dislike certain music, perhaps one reason I so enjoy Excepter is because they never let you off easy.

The Decemberists [Hammerstein Ballroom; 9 p.m.]

It was a thrill just to see the Decemberists playing in front of so many people, i.e. more than 3,000 if you believe the internets. Colin Meloy and his merry madrigalists were a little blown away, too-- "We're going to do our best to pretend we're playing at the Mercury Lounge right now"-- but they ultimately used the increased scale to their advantage, much like they did on The Crane Wife. Fans on the floor and two balconies indulged the theatrical PDX popsters by participating in Meloy-encouraged dance competitions, sing-alongs, vocal warmup drills, and the "Myla Goldberg" shoutout to NYC. For an encore, members of the band marched into the crowd to reenact "The Charge of the Light Brigade". The final song, "I Was Meant for the Stage", took on new meaning in Hammerstein's vast setting-- yes, Meloy was meant for this stage, too. But it's still a fucking trip.

The Big Sleep [Pianos; 11 p.m.]

I always imagined the whole point of events like CMJ was to discover music you hadn't heard before, but my luck hasn't been too good the past two years. Pulling into Pianos as part of the Frenchkiss showcase, The Big Sleep were my pleasant surprise of the night. The Brooklyn-based trio banged out muscular avant-rock textures with a totally bonkers Mick Fleetwood bugeye drummer who did those Zep things Dom Leone loves and a guitarist as content to hash out blues riffs (over bassist Sonya Balchandani's teutonic drone) as ear-splitting electronic noise. It would've been next to impossible to buy beer in this sardines-packt crowd, so at least the music was pretty kickass.