Pitchfork

Photos by Kathryn Yu; Above: HEALTH

Sightings [Knitting Factory Main Space; 9 p.m.]






Brooklyn three-piece Sightings, with their sheet-metal guitar and scooped-out bass, their awkward, square- shaped riffs and dissonant drones, helped with the industrial impression-- there’s always a lot of "new no wave" talk in New York City, but less about the old no wave to which Sightings are heirs, a lineage that goes back to DNA and Pussy Galore, the Birthday Party, and even Big Black. In an unabashed three-level noise-rock showcase, Sightings were by far the night’s toughest listening-- all right angles, slithering unbalanced bass, and singer Mark Morgan's ear-slitting screech-- and they'd be proud of that distinction.

Japanther [Knitting Factory Main Space; 10 p.m.]






Perennial opening band and New York art world fixture Japanther nevertheless remain one of the city’s most underrated acts, probably because nobody realizes that live-- Whitney Biennial plaudits and telephone microphones aside-- they're not at all threatening; more like indie-dorks Matt & Kim than their bros in Sightings. After paying lip-service to a bill that contained many of their friends and peers ("I feel proud just to be a part of it," said their drummer Ian Vanek) they also snuck in a jab at the city-disfiguring, heavily-sponsored marathon of which they were a part: "AT&T, I want my money back, that's what I have to say to CMJ."

HEALTH [Knitting Factory Tap Bar; 10:15 p.m.]






Is it possible for a band to outgrow a stage before they've even set foot on it? Somewhere deep in the Knitting Factory HEALTH were playing their third or fourth or 15th show in three days, but who could tell exactly where? An enormous crowd spilled into the Knitting Factory's low-ceilinged, unventilated Tap Bar to see one of the Marathon's ongoing success stories, HEALTH, who come from the same Los Angeles, California Smell-based scene as No Age, and seem poised to come away from CMJ a lot taller than they were when they arrived.

Like their L.A. peers-- No Age, Mika Miko, Abe Vigoda-- HEALTH cop elements from punk and hardcore and then tweak them, decontextualize them; but where most of their scene goes in for a kind of charming amateurism, HEALTH strain further, incorporating complex percussion and deadpan Liars chanting into their blast beats and feedback freak-outs. Best was when they seemed unhinged; worst was waiting through all the portentous parts in between.

Old Time Relijun [Knitting Factory Main Space; 11 p.m.]






Olympia, Washington and K Records stalwarts Old Time Relijun presumably landed on the bill for their Beefheart antics and short-shorts weirdness, rather than any real sonic affiliation. Having just finished their three-album suite, the Lost Light Trilogy, frontman Arrington de Dionyso led his newest outfit-- an indie-rock Cherry Poppin' Daddies, with a hep upright bassist, a sax player, and a seriously up-tempo drummer-- through material off their newest, Catharsis in Crisis. This set up one of many conflicts: stay for Dionyso's shaman-like stage presence and unending yowling momentum, or see new-jack new-wavers Pre, in from England to follow HEALTH down at the Tap Bar?

Pre [Knitting Factory Tap Bar; 11:30 p.m.]

Well, it was CMJ-- novelty is everything, right? In an emerald green bikini top and gold lamé bottom, their aliased singer Exceedingly Good Keex scaled the bar's low and perspiring rafters, channeling fellow countrywoman and name-fabricator Poly Styrene. If Pre's new and debut record, Epic Fits, has bits of Skull Kontrol guitar skittishness, all paranoid tremors and caffeinated fear, Pre's live set is more ecstatic-- Melt- Banana without the musicianship, quick shrieking blasts of guitars and cymbals. Not bad for what was-- I think, anyway-- the band's first New York show.

Ruins [Knitting Factory Main Space; 12 a.m.]

If anything united the bands spread out over the Knitting Factory's three floors of chaos, it was their shared debt to Japan's Tatsuya Yoshida, who has performed with various bassists and vocalists as Ruins since 1985. The band, usually at least a duo, consisted only of Yoshida at the Knitting Factory, though you wouldn't have known this if you were in the next room over: in a near-satire of advanced musicianship, Yoshida sang, played drums, triggered bass and synth and drum-machine licks, and collaged noise all at the same time, all by himself. Like early Boredoms, Ruins' songs are short, extreme, and convulsive, proggy but muscular; Yoshida sings in a made-up falsetto language, looping flawlessly executed vocal lines while flailing away at his kit. Fittingly, I guess, the Main Space was emptier than it had been all night-- maybe Black Kids were playing somewhere?