For 99% of people, CMJ, which concluded over the weekend after a scattered five-day stay in Brooklyn, doesn’t stand for anything. It’s just an acronym, something The Youth say when they’re sexting or Tumblring or sextumblring, probably. The one percent that does give a damn is split fairly evenly between two camps: CMJ should mean EVERYTHING, but it doesn’t as much as it used to; and who the hell cares about the meaning? I want to hear bands I might not have otherwise known about play music loudly. Or softly. Or synthly. But mostly loudly.
I fall firmly into that second category, ignoring the college course think pieces with titles “CMJ IN THE POST-INTERNET, POST-TUMBLR, PRE-ROBOT BUTLERS WORLD,” because without the festival, I wouldn’t have heard Joanna Gruesome. And I’m better off with them in my life.
The most important thing to know about Joanna Gruesome is: ignore the name. (To quote Principal Skinner, “We need a name that’s witty at first, but that seems less funny each time you hear it.”) Beyond that, though, flawless: finely crafted quiet-loud punk that’s as catchy as it is chaotic. Also, bonus points for being Welsh. Have a listen.
To hear more, and to fall in love with Alanna Gruesome twee-punk voice, check out their website.
