Idolator

In addition to individual updates as we hack our way through the hype, long lines, and enough bands to form a small rogue nation, we want to give you an overview of what it's like to be in the thick of the CMJ Music Marathon. After the jump, we actually see a bunch of good bands, find out the best way to get people to come to your show is to dangle the promise of free clothes and shoes, and learn that emo brings out the middle-aged pervs.

DEPARTURE: 1:30 p.m.
RETURN HOME: 1:45 a.m.
WEATHER REPORT: Delightful enough to make you wish you were frolicking in a park rather than in a clammy bar watching some guy with a harmonica sing about deaaaaaaatttthhhh like he's flinching from a punch.
BANDS SEEN: Nine: O'Death, Peasant, the Airborne Toxic Event, Health, Ezra Furman and the Harpoons, Ponytail, Charlotte Sometimes, the Pack, Cobra Starship CMJ total: 15.
THEIR GENRES: Celtic thrash folk, singer-songwriter, serious emotive-face keyboard indie rock in matching black suits, noisy spazzes, people who own Modern Lovers records, best band in the universe, shitty emo, hyphy, shitty emo with a goddamn keytar.
BANDS YOU SHOULD SEE AGAIN THIS WEEK ONE OF THE 900 TIMES THEY'RE PLAYING: Health
BANDS YOU MISSED BUT SHOULD CHECK OUT IMMEDIATELY AS SOON AS THEY COME TO YOUR TOWN: Ponytail, the Pack.
BLOGGER GATHERINGS OBSERVED: Two: Gothamist party at the White Rabbit and Fader Sideshow.
DISPARITY BETWEEN NUMBER OF ATTENDEES AT BOTH EVENTS: Considerable.
POSSIBLE REASONS WHY: Obscure art-folk/singer-songwriters versus hipster approved "rising" noise/punk/indie bands. But mostly the rumor of free shit at Fader party.
BEST SWAG RUMOR: "Free Levis and Pumas at the Fader party!"
SWAG REALITY: Free Levis and Pumas ruthlessly guarded by surly guards with secondary swag guest list, leading to very disgruntled hoi polloi. (Considering they never have jeans long enough or shoes in my size, I was there for the music, man.)
ACTUAL FADER SWAG: Issues of the Fader. Just in case you wanted to know Devendra Banharts toilet habits or the right kind of promotional vodka to pair with your ugly, overpriced "streetwear."
ENERGY DRINKS DRUNK: Six. CMJ total: 10.
CELEBRITIES SIGHTED: Bob Balaban in a dirty Baltimore Ravens windbreaker walking down Houston St. at 4 p.m.
WHO IT ACTUALLY WAS UPON INQUIRING: Homeless man.
BEST SONG HEARD ALL DAY:

(Sorry, CMJ bands. You'll get there one day.)
SUGGESTIONS FOR THE CMJ STAFF: Closing the registration office at 6 p.m. actually makes it hard for that small handful of attendees who actually a.) have jobs that are not related to being minor players in the music industry and b.) actually paid money (that could have gone to rent or booze) for their badges to pick them up in a timely manner, judging by the flustered woman on the sidewalk who arrived 15 minutes late and started cursing someone (who obviously couldn't have given a shit) out about the fact that she was going to miss some potentially life-changing indie rock band. You might wanna extend it to 8 p.m. each night next year to avoid pissing off the part of your customer base that's still dropping cash on this event because they actually love music. Crazy, we know.
MOST UNCOMFORTABLE MOMENT: Watching multiple old guys ("old" here meaning "over 50," not "over 25") licking their chops like cartoon canines as they very obviously eyeballed the jailbait at the Cobra Starship show. But if any perverts out there are reading this, apparently emo shows are better than shopping malls and playgrounds combined. The more you know!