CMJ’s function in 2015 seems almost quaint in the age where music discovery and consumption happens online – its college-radio roots and its collection of a bunch of people in one place only seem to add to that. But it still serves an important business function, even as its roots become more obscured.
The CMJ Music Marathon began 35 years ago, and its early days were much more humble – a trade show populated by various music-related businesses and panels during the day, with concerts scattered around New York City’s clubs in the evenings. Back then, the marathon existed chiefly as a way for higher-ups at college music stations to get to know each other as well as the music-biz types in their orbits, such as publicists and radio promoters. (CMJ stood for College Music Journal, essentially the Billboard of the left-of-the-dial set; it publishes charts and other stories of note to college-radio types, although its distribution resides only online.)
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This vaster-than-usual landscape can result in some negative consequences – bands being saddled with Next Big Thing status too early by overeager writers from publications large and small, commercial and noncommercial; artists becoming fatigued by hustling between venues to play brief sets to distracted crowds; attention falling heavily on those acts that are already established, thanks to their having already accrued enough critical mass to be must-see shows for journalists; thickets of coverage that flood the proverbial zone.
It’s an imperfect festival, to be sure. But I still appreciate the chaos of CMJ, and I’m glad I’ll be in town for it, even if it’s just for 18 hours or so.
During that brief window, I’ll be speaking twice. But I’m also planning to see bands from Toronto (the majestically weird Weaves), Japan (the deliriously precise Tricot), and Los Angeles (the brooding singer-songwriter Lena Fayre). I live in Boston, which has a fairly robust live-music scene, but there are more than a few acts that don’t make it up here on tour — it’s not as close to New York, which is the East Coast stop for many a musician, as Philadelphia or Baltimore, and the number of secondary markets that can make the five-hour trip worth it economically can vary depending on appeal. CMJ attendees from more far-flung locales around the world, of which there are still many, can take in even more music that might not hit their towns, and bring the news of what they loved back to their local markets. Even in the age of Spotify and streaming music, local radio remains a potent force, attracting a particularly ravenous brand of listener.
CMJ also allows the music-world hegemony of New York and particularly Brooklyn to subside, even slightly, for a week. Artists from all over the world descend on New York and make it their own through relentless gigging and media appearances. While music distribution has become democratised, many of the people promoting up-and-coming acts, whether as publicists or journalists, still live somewhere in the Big Apple, which results in coverage being more than slightly skewed toward artists based in the five boroughs. It’s a strange sort of hegemony that further functions the idea of Brooklyn as the only epicenter of “hip” culture, even as its ideas of cool become ever more commodified and repackaged into luxury pursuits.
And running around New York City in pursuit of music is still fun, even with all the blustering about soon-to-be buzz acts. CMJ’s concentrated version of the New York showgoing experience can be exhilarating, particularly for those college students who still provide the sponsoring publication’s backbone – it’s a potent illustration of how music can be the most fun thing to do in a city, whether you’re surrounded by 25 people or 2,500.
This week, the percentage of New York City’s population associated with the music industry will swell because of the CMJ Music Marathon. The four-day crash course of panels, shows and networking opportunities is geared toward people interested in what’s clumsily called “indie” music, a mishmash of styles and approaches that don’t quite code as pop, whether because of their off-kilter approaches to melody or their utter lack of regard for it.
Click through the list of artists on CMJ’s official site and you’ll see a dizzying array of bands, some of whom are booked to perform multiple times in the same day, let alone over the course of the festival. While the music business is in a massive state of flux right now as far as its economics, the number of acts hoping to get noticed is still fairly robust. CMJ, which sprawls throughout New York’s still-thriving club scene, serves as a sort of one-stop shop for those looking out for next big things.
CMJ’s function in 2015 seems almost quaint in the age where music discovery and consumption happens online – its college-radio roots and its collection of a bunch of people in one place only seem to add to that. But it still serves an important business function, even as its roots become more obscured.
The CMJ Music Marathon began 35 years ago, and its early days were much more humble – a trade show populated by various music-related businesses and panels during the day, with concerts scattered around New York City’s clubs in the evenings. Back then, the marathon existed chiefly as a way for higher-ups at college music stations to get to know each other as well as the music-biz types in their orbits, such as publicists and radio promoters. (CMJ stood for College Music Journal, essentially the Billboard of the left-of-the-dial set; it publishes charts and other stories of note to college-radio types, although its distribution resides only online.)
The increase in events surrounding the festival has, however, turned it into a bit of a gauntlet for artists and observers alike. A glance at the listings site Oh My Rockness’s rundown of “unofficial” parties – that is, ones not sponsored by the festival – could scare even the most ardent showgoer into hiding; brands and publications take over venues during the otherwise sleepy afternoon hours, offering the promises of next big things and bloody Marys. They’ve also democratised the CMJ landscape; no longer do you (or a sponsoring entity) have to plunk down hundreds of dollars in order to gain entry. Many of the day parties are free, or almost-free. (A note to attendees planning on going hard: drink plenty of water and get at least a couple of naps, otherwise you’ll be an absolute wreck by the time Friday night rolls around.)
This vaster-than-usual landscape can result in some negative consequences – bands being saddled with Next Big Thing status too early by overeager writers from publications large and small, commercial and noncommercial; artists becoming fatigued by hustling between venues to play brief sets to distracted crowds; attention falling heavily on those acts that are already established, thanks to their having already accrued enough critical mass to be must-see shows for journalists; thickets of coverage that flood the proverbial zone.
It’s an imperfect festival, to be sure. But I still appreciate the chaos of CMJ, and I’m glad I’ll be in town for it, even if it’s just for 18 hours or so.
During that brief window, I’ll be speaking twice. But I’m also planning to see bands from Toronto (the majestically weird Weaves), Japan (the deliriously precise Tricot), and Los Angeles (the brooding singer-songwriter Lena Fayre). I live in Boston, which has a fairly robust live-music scene, but there are more than a few acts that don’t make it up here on tour — it’s not as close to New York, which is the East Coast stop for many a musician, as Philadelphia or Baltimore, and the number of secondary markets that can make the five-hour trip worth it economically can vary depending on appeal. CMJ attendees from more far-flung locales around the world, of which there are still many, can take in even more music that might not hit their towns, and bring the news of what they loved back to their local markets. Even in the age of Spotify and streaming music, local radio remains a potent force, attracting a particularly ravenous brand of listener.
CMJ also allows the music-world hegemony of New York and particularly Brooklyn to subside, even slightly, for a week. Artists from all over the world descend on New York and make it their own through relentless gigging and media appearances. While music distribution has become democratised, many of the people promoting up-and-coming acts, whether as publicists or journalists, still live somewhere in the Big Apple, which results in coverage being more than slightly skewed toward artists based in the five boroughs. It’s a strange sort of hegemony that further functions the idea of Brooklyn as the only epicenter of “hip” culture, even as its ideas of cool become ever more commodified and repackaged into luxury pursuits.
And running around New York City in pursuit of music is still fun, even with all the blustering about soon-to-be buzz acts. CMJ’s concentrated version of the New York showgoing experience can be exhilarating, particularly for those college students who still provide the sponsoring publication’s backbone – it’s a potent illustration of how music can be the most fun thing to do in a city, whether you’re surrounded by 25 people or 2,500.
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