November Show Notes
Homecomings, New Opportunities, Less Phones; Hope Restored.
When I was a kid I could spend hours daydreaming about being famous. Sometimes even just being known by a famous person, most classically imagining being spotted in the crowd by Niall Horan or Ollie Sykes (I was a very complex 13-year-old) and them being so taken by my chill yet passionate vibe we end up falling in love. I’d listen to Hole or Paramore and picture a world where that was my song and I was on stage and I was that confident. I thought there was nothing cooler in the world than being a rockstar, and I mourned my lack of any musicality whatsoever, seeing it as the curse I was born with.
As a writer and director, as someone who makes things that I want to be seen and heard and felt both deeply and widely, it seems like part of me still has to crave a certain level of fame and recognition; but my dreams around this sort of success feel more like nightmares now. They used to be an escapist oasis. Most of this shift is probably just being older and understanding more about 1. our society and 2. The music industry. I think it’s a pretty fucking scary time to be famous right now. Fans are insane. Fans have always been crazy, but I feel like in this day and age (internet/social media/people being more isolated and also more connected than any other time in history) it’s especially scary. No anonymity ever and not only do people think you owe them something, but they think they really, really know you. Beyond that, music has changed so much in the age of technology and algorithms and unrelenting capitalism. So much capital is involved in getting your songs heard and so little money is involved in people streaming. It’s really hard to be independent and as soon as you sign onto a label, their interests and profit goals are suddenly your problem.
I don’t know how I have become so jaded without having a single horse in the race, but it happened. Maybe part of it is interacting with famous people at my job, seeing them pick through produce and forget their grocery lists, realizing they’re just people. A little definitely has to do with some of my friends getting more famous and hearing the stress they’re under all the time, while also always trying to balance it with presentness and gratitude. Attending some bigger concerts last month, I found myself spending a portion of each show wondering if they were happy. If it still feels good. If the feeling up there is worth all the bullshit along the way. Or if it’s just a job. Is it all just staring at the phones pointed your way?
November was all about reaching some equilibrium on this front. I saw less shows this month, but each one packed a heavy punch. I saw some smaller artists, some musicians at different points of their fame and recognition, and I was reminded that, this isn’t just a bad thing. It’s also a dream come true. It’s being able to do the thing you love and touch people all over the world and make a living that way. I saw so much gratitude amongst the chaos this month and it felt really reinvigorating. Life affirming. Dream reminding.
I’ll cut the shit, here is last month’s gig report:
Jim Legxacy 11.12
The Venue: S.O.B (my first time!)
The Team: Me and Ben
The Scene: Okay so lots of men yet again, but, unlike my boy-heavy shows last month (Bladee, Yung Lean, Autechere) this show was almost entirely men of color. Might I add, the highest presence of South Asian men I have ever seen at a show. Most of the girls I saw there were there with boyfriends or had come alone…didn’t see any groups of girls or duos. What does one do with these observations? Anyone got a read on why South Asian men love rapping along to Jim Legxacy in a group of their boys but a gaggle of girls didn’t feel the same way? Let me know, I’ll keep thinking too. Uniform was Bloke Core. Lots of jerseys and football scarves. Proper football, not American. Footy shoes. The Premier League fans were out to play. Okay all the Crystal Palace jerseys! Everyone seemed really excited to be there and even before anyone came on it felt like everyone was just chatting and shooting the shit and not checking their phones apart to guess when he’d come on. The venue was wonderfully small and intimate, a great break from October’s lineup.
The Smell: Tom Ford Cologne. Backwoods. Wintergreen Zyn. Tonic wine.
The Show: Life affirming. I remember Pema reviewing Before Sunset that way when he watched it during Covid and, when something is special enough, that descriptor pops in my head. Dexter in the Newsagent opened the show. I only knew about her from her feature on Black British Music, and I am so glad I got to hear more from her. Her songs were simple and soulful, and she was such a fab performer. It felt so good to watch her up there, a 22-year-old in New York for the first time, singing to a sold out crowd and screaming about needing to try a chopped cheese between songs. She had just released her debut album Time Flies a week before and was getting to play it through thousands of miles from home, to a crowd that was fucking with her heavy. Summarizing her earnestness: at the end of her set she told the crowd she wanted a selfie and then unplugged her laptop and opened photobooth to do so.
To enter the stage, Jim Legaxy walked through the crowd. We stood parted and cheered as he marched through, dressed in a black puffer and a red leather backpack, armed with a big ass smile on his face. On stage he had a full band and a fake departures board with live train times from the station he grew up next to in London. He had so. much. fun. The crowd knew every word that came out of his mouth and they echoed him, sometimes even beating him to the punch. Legxacy, his band, and every person in the crowd molded into one creature, pleading and grieving and laughing and dreaming together on Varick Street, some random Wednesday in November. Everyone danced and jumped and held each other or themselves or just held on to every sound coming out of the speaker. His performance took us on a ride between genres, across emotions, through past, present, and future. Everyone felt what Legxacy rapped about deep in their bodies no matter where those bodies came from or looked like. His music is deeply rooted in where he grew up, the people he has lost, the sounds he came up hearing, the musical tradition he comes from. I can’t even imagine how it must have felt to be across the Atlantic for the first time, witnessing everyone resonate with what he has made.
The Moment: Watching Jim Legaxy dance around on stage, microphone down, elated as everyone screamed out every word of jealousy. Again, people went bar for bar this entire show. There wasn’t a single moment where you could only hear Legxacy, everyone was screaming his lyrics with urgency, but I mention jealousy because it was one of the first songs he played, setting the bar for the rest of the evening.
iPhone Presence: 7/10. Honestly I’m probably giving it a lighter score than it deserves but the iPhone presence felt like a little more of a vibe at this show. Flash on, waving your phone around while rapping at an artist you love. Type shit.
Additional Notes: I really can’t remember the last time I went to a gig where the artist was so excited to be in New York. Writing now I am thinking about when I saw Jake Bugg’s debut at The Slipper Room back in 2012 or 2013. I went with my dad’s then-girlfriend and they said it was 16+ and I tried to be chill but I cried so much and they felt bad and let us in. I remember Bugg seemed so nervous on stage in between songs, like he didn’t have words to fill the space, like he had been blinded by the bright lights beating down on him. Jim Legaxy was definitely more excited than nervous, but it was sweet to be reminded of going to that show back in my day.
Stars Revenge & Pop Music Fever Dream 11.19
The Venue: Silver Note Lounge
The Team: Me, Cat, the friends we made along the way
The Scene: Oomfcon part one of the week. It was a nice and small Wednesday crowd, so it was easy to spot all the faces I knew from my phone and from all my previous Star’s Revenge and PMFD shows. It was especially fun to spot some people I hadn’t seen since the Taxes music video back in June. The smoking area was bubbly, lots of people walking up to each other and asking what brought them to Silver Note for the evening-- so many people knowing Carmen, which made everyone feel pre-vetted to me. The last time I was at this venue was for a Boxxer show, but that was also part of Matt Weinburger’s Downtown Prom Party, so it’s suffice to say I was excited to be back at that venue with a much different crowd.
The Smell: Nachos at the movie theatre. Good sweat, healthy sweat. PBR. Period panties. Bubblegum flavor at the dentist.
The Show: These are two bands that are very special to me. Two of my favorite New York bands, both so fucking cool in such different ways. I first met Carmen of PMFD a few years ago on set for the first music video I directed. She was such a light on set, so energetic and thoughtful and excited to take direction and make adjustments. I knew I wanted to keep up with her after wrapping, and when she posted about a show at Our Wicked Lady a few weeks later I made sure to be there. It was that early Spring evening that I first saw Lex Walton and Star’s Revenge-- a monumental night. I loved everyone who played that night, I was floored by Lex’s use of media and her unreal Drake cover, but Star’s was really something special for me. Their songs sounded the way music sounded to me when I was 15 and up late on my laptop, blasting 8tracks into my apple earbuds. Something about their sound reminded me so much of Cyberbully Mom’s Club, an artist who had a profound effect on me in my teendom. In the years since, I have attended almost every Star’s show, becoming friends with Em along the way, still remaining a fan at heart.
Star’s have an amazing energy on stage. Olive always keeps me on edge, always keeps me guessing. Sometimes I feel myself moving back throughout their set because I’m nervous she might give me her guitar mid-song, an honor I have avoided countless times. But this show I stayed at the front. I shouted along to the lyrics to Text Message Breakup and Me and My Friends. I tried to keep a mental note of all the images popping into my head during all of their new songs (especially USA) so that I could deck out a music video. Em was in her usual lock in, I should start keeping count of the amount of times she ever looks at the crowd because it’s basically never. “We are Star’s Revenge and we are from around here” Olive mumbled into the mic between every song. Olive and Em always seem so big and so cool without ever doing too much, they’re not theatric, but they are playful and energetic without ever going fast. Their songs know how to linger and when to pick up. I feel really safe when I see them, even if I get nervous Olive is gonna hand me a guitar or microphone, I know if it actually happened I’d survive it, because I trust them and the music they make. I keep on wanting to describe them as ‘slacker rock with a lot of heart’ but to be honest, I really don’t know what slacker rock means. I just think they are honest to god rockstars who are also mad chill. Set ended with Olive crawling across the floor playing her guitar, going as far as she could while attached to the amp, playing the song’s last notes from under a table behind the crowd.
Similar to skateboarding, I took too much time off of moshing and got old in the process and regained some paralyzing fear that was never present during my summer visits to Van’s Warped Tour. I have tried a few times in the past couple of years, let the music take me, and I have been done so dirty. At Black Midi in Glasgow a few years ago I rushed the pit and lost a Vivienne Westwood earring in the process. Lip Critic at Elsewhere two years ago I said fuck it I want to mosh and then 30 seconds later my boob was hanging out of my shirt and I was scared! I just don’t really have it in me anymore. Unless I am at a Pop Music Fever Dream show. Just like Star’s, these are some real ass capital R Rockstars. And these ones are theatric. Whenever I see PMFD I feel like a kid with a sugar rush. I feel so in my body and in touch with being fucking angry and hating being bored and my need for constant stimulation is met on all fronts. I really think they are the coolest looking band; they are so hot and so loud. When I saw them at Elsewhere a few months ago I kept on picturing the audience as a room of kids. Violet smashing a child-size drum kit and Tim climbing the rafters like monkey bars, all the children in the crowd going crazy and being intoxicated by the sounds of punk. When they perform that’s what they do, perform. There’s no standing around, no swaying with a bass, there is energy on every front. All of them are everywhere all at once, Tim is behind the crowd, Nicole is standing on an amp, Carmen is sitting in front of me, Violet is standing on a stool while smashing cymbals. And they switch and they swap and they stand in perfect portraits while never dipping in momentum. The door girl and security guard kept on coming to peek at the show. They looked confused, not their typical hotel jazz bar show.
The Moment: Bro they started a fire. Pop Music Fire Dream takeover! It was honestly so crazy. A few songs in, Nicole was plugging in an amp and I see a spark then boom a small line of fire on the carpeted stage. The actual flames only lasted a few seconds but it felt so intense. The band recouped for a few minutes while venue staff nervously ran around. Outlets were switched around, the set was cut short, but eventually they got to play two more songs with just as much fire as the first half of the set. I feel bad that it happened, it seemed very stressful and I would have loved to hear more songs, but it also felt so fitting that the only gig fire I’ve ever experienced happened at PMFD at a jazz lounge in LES.
iPhone Presence: 1/10. Tasteful and present.
Additional Notes: Knowing people from gigs makes New York feel so much smaller in a really good way. Cat and I split an Uber home with someone we met at the show (there is solidarity in the trains being down sometimes) and in the car ride we realized how many of the same shows we had been to and how we had so many of the same friends. At this point, something like that doesn’t even feel crazy, because even though there are a few million people in this city, there’s only so many people at the weeknight Star’s and PMFD show-- and once you go to one, you’re bound to keep on coming back.
Geese 11.21
The Venue: Brooklyn Paramount
The Team: Me, Billy, the million people we ran into
The Scene: The last time I was at Paramount was for Addison Rae. So this was such a different vibe. I’d say partially what you expected, lots of under-30s, lots of guys who looked like they were from Colorado, a lot of people in merch from GeeseFest, which probably happened around this same time last year. My favorite was the one guy wearing the Goose shirt. That was fire. Beyond the classic Brooklyn team, there were a lot of people there with their parents. Shortly after arriving I looked up and saw Carter. I walked around to him and he exclaimed, “Maya, this is my mom!”, gesturing towards the woman standing between him and Rose. It was really sweet to meet his parents at the top of the show after being friends for almost a decade, and I also thought it was a pretty ideal show to bring the parents to (if they are cool). In the VIP section I saw: The Dare and (I think) Adam Friedland.
The Smell: Newports. Coors Banquet. Diet Coke. D&D Club. The hotdogs at Rudy’s.
The Show: A triumphant homecoming. The last show of their North American tour. God they fucking rock. The energy was electric all night. They played a mix of songs off Getting Killed and threw in a few from 3D Country. The songs waned and weaved into each other, sometimes being hard to tell where one ended and another started. The drums came through so hard for me, Max’s nonstop beating under Em’s never-ending riffs. She and Cameron acted as mirrors for each other through each chorus, grounded in Dom’s steadfast baselines and Sam’s keys. During the first song flashlights started strobing in the crowd and no matter how present they were, they were still able to identify someone needing attention and stopped the show to make sure security got to them. Throughout the rest of the show I kept on seeing bodies crowd surfing to the barrier, being fireman swooped by security, and making a run to jump back into the crowd before being escorted to the back. Moshing happened in the masses whenever appropriate, and I was pleased to see no one pushing to get rough during the slower songs. You could tell Getting Killed had been every person in the crowd’s fall soundtrack, voices getting especially loud to proclaim, “there’s only dance music in times of war”. I watched the show between Billy and Em’s brother and his girlfriend, the four of us beaming with pride. We watched a fight between a middle-aged woman who decided to scream every lyric at the top of her lungs (derogatory), into the ear of the tall man in front of her who was blocking her view. New York City!
After the show I smoked a blunt with Kenny Beats; we trauma bonded over Greenwich, and I learned so much about Weezer. Billy, Lex, and I stopped by the after party at Junior’s Cheesecake. No one in the band was there because they had to be at JFK at 5am to play Camp Flog Gnaw in LA and fly back the same night. Is that the price you pay for your dreams coming true? I wished they could have celebrated and rested a little. I ate half a piece of cheesecake and two black and white cookies. I didn’t talk to anyone besides the people I came with. I left after 10 minutes and slept with a smile on my face that night.
The Moment: House lights getting turned up during Cobra, and I could finally take in the sheer amount of people in the crowd. The last time I saw Geese they played at The Rabbit Hole in Ridgewood to an audience of 100, I chainsmoked indoors (DIY forever) while listening to early versions of Getting Killed and watched Lex, Billy, and Sloane sling themselves all over the front row. Less than a year and here they are now, not a still body in the house, 3000 people in the room, many more outside asking if anyone had extra tickets, a criminal number of tickets haunting StubHub, left at some absurd price (that many paid). Less than a year later and their lives changed completely and totally, Cameron having released two of the most widely acclaimed and deeply felt albums of the past year and having the world’s attention. I just can’t believe how much they have exploded and how ravenous the world was for Getting Killed. Well, I can believe it, because they’re really fucking good. Maybe I just can’t believe I know them. And that they’re younger than me.
iPhone Presence: 3/10. This was so special. I watched the whole show from the balcony and had a good overview of the crowd, and at no point did I see a large number of phones up. Again, the last time I was at Paramount was for Addison Rae, which is to say I watched the entire show over a line of iPhones, sometimes having to pull out my own to get a look at stage. This was the least amount of phones I’ve ever seen at a show this size. Maybe it had to do with the balcony vantage point, but it felt like a…..2015 show number of iPhones. Is this heaven? I spent so much of last month spinning out about if every show I go to for the rest of my life will be dominated by phones, and this show gave me so much peace. Thank you, Geese Gods.
Additional Notes: I didn’t always get Geese. I remember after Em and I became friends I was like, I love Star’s so much, I should probably listen to the other band she’s in. I listened to a few songs off 3D Country and I liked it, but I didn’t really go back. I remember the first time I met Cameron, he told me he was in a band with Em and I thought he was the drummer of Star’s. I just didn’t really know Geese like that, and I didn’t connect with their sound the way I did with Star’s. Then, Ben and I went to Geesefest at Williamsburg Music Hall last December. It was my first time seeing Geese live and it clicked instantly. I was GAGGED watching Em shred, and I was even more gagged watching the front row of GA from the balcony; there were so many young teens, all holding custom signs about various band members, all wearing crazy Geese themed hats. It hit me, Em is famous. This band is famous, and I understand why! I was so impressed with the show they put on, hypnotized by Cameron’s undulating voice, Em’s shredding, Dom’s bass face, and Max’s relentless smashing. I often find with rock music I appreciate a band a lot more live than listening to their album. Cameron’s album Heavy Metal had also just come out at the time of this show and it was rapidly climbing my albums of the year even upon the first few listens, so Geese really came together for me last December. I can’t claim day one fan, but after getting turned on to Geese in the winter, I had a pretty big Geese Spring/Summer 25. I went to a Lex Walton show at a DIY venue in Ridgewood last March and Geese played under the name The Power Puff Boy Girls. I saw Cameron play at a Church in Brooklyn last April. I shot BTS on the Taxes video back in June, blessed by Partisan and in the company of Milo and Jeanne <3. Then of course, this September, Milo got to reap the fruit of the June shoot by directing the Au Pays Du Cocaine video, which I production managed. I think me, Milo, and Cameron spent 18 hours together that day, hanging out for several after shooting all day. Last but certainly not least, this past October I came down from my Prospect Park shrooms trip at the Geese free show in Greenpoint (in her trip notes Cat wrote, ‘Geese might define a generation’, it was her first time hearing them). No better place to come off of drugs than a concert in the middle of the road where you will see every person you have ever met, worked for, moshed with, or followed on Instagram. For real though, Geese have made up a big part of my last year, both in terms of what I am listening to but also the work I have gotten to do and the people I have gotten to meet. I am so grateful to exist in the same time and city as them, and so beyond proud of the work they have been able to do this past year, they deserve everything coming their way.
A moment for the non-gig shows I went to this month: Mise En Abyme and The Wolves.
The first was an installation by Johnny Draper and Richard McDonough, where they hosted a 24-hour ambient music session before it closed. Epic. I went with Ben and Pema, heading to Greenpoint a little after midnight. I smoked half of a joint and we headed in. When we got to the gallery, we saw shoes lined under a blench and peoples coats resting on top. Beyond the bench but before the freezer-like plastic flap curtains, there was a tea station. Inside of the curtains was the installation, a room covered in carved patterns, soft blue light moving through all the holes and gaps and divots in the design. The floor was all cloud mattress-like, and everyone was laying down in near silence, listening to the soft ambient music. We caught the last 10 of someone’s set then there was five or so minutes of talking time as Spurge got ready to go on. Ben, Pema, and I immediately made similar comments about how, out of context, it felt like we walked into a really awesome opium den. Greenpoint’s last opium den. Around 1, Spurge went on. A few hours prior to this show, Ben and I were out to dinner at Bong. It was a fantastic meal, and they were playing the best playlist I had ever heard in a restaurant. There was one song in particular I loved, and, upon the restaurant sending me their playlist, I realized it was Spurge’s song. Lol. Anyway, their set was perfect. It was so good and so ideal for the dreamlike space we were in. Perhaps the only ambient set I’ve ever felt energized by. I was so happy to be laying down while hearing mysterious sounds blended with the familiar (Injury Reserve and Leonard Cohen, like c’mon).
I love The Wolves. It might be one of my favorite plays, well it is one of my favorite plays, but I just feel like I don’t know enough theatre to even talk like that. The production I saw was at the Royal Family off Times Square. I love this theatre, I had been there for a play that Healy invited me to years ago, and I don’t even remember anything about the story because I was so freshly back in New York and felt out of my element seeing a play, lol. Anyway, I thought this production was so good. I felt like the cast did an amazing job in their choral moments especially, warm up for practice when everyone is sitting in duos and doing shooting drills and talking endlessly, never listening that well. I was really brought back to my 9th grade soccer team and how particular those sport-rooted relationships were, spanning across grade and race and class and popularity. I think everyone should see this play the next time it’s on, but if you are a girl and played soccer and have dealt with grief, non negosh.