​As you may have by now heard, last night, as part of his weeklong New York takeover, dubstep phenom Skrillex played a show so secret that even he didn't know its whereabouts. Nevertheless, Voice nightlife correspondent Puja Patel managed to score an invite, one that required us to meet at another secret location and be taken by bus, blindfolded, to the other. Because Puja had another event to cover, she was ultimately told where to go (Work in Progress, the newish club under Greenhouse, as it turned out) and we attempted to work our way in at the door. In retrospect, this was a terrible idea. Still, though we never heard Skrillex drop the beat, we overheard enough ridiculous, cringeworthy, made-us-burst-out-laughing-right-there-on-the-sidewalk quotes to fill five of these blog posts. Here are some of the best that we remember.

Before getting into the list, we should note that we both intended to come away from the show with something more than another "lol people at Skrillex" post, but stranded by our press contact and unwilling to part with next month's rent, this was all we were left with. For an actual report from one of these shows, keep your browsers here (and refresh constantly, we could use the hits), as Maura is heading to Roseland Ballroom to see what happens at tonight's gig. She even has a ticket. If you can't wait til then, go back and check out the essay on Skrillex and American rave that Tom Ewing contributed to December's Voice Critic's Roundtable.

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We All Make Music

Max Willens, occasional SOTC contributor, showing off the YouTube socks that were also in the 2010 CMJ gift bag.

Despite what anyone tells you, we here at Sound of the City love CMJ Music Festival. If CMJ was a homeless man, we would give him voice-over work. If CMJ was an ice cream cone, we'd get it tattooed on our cheeks. If CMJ was a subway rat, we'd let it crawl on our faces.

But this past year, we heard a lot of grumbling from ungrateful spoileds about the official CMJ event bag that was given away to badgeholders. There were two primary concerns: 1) anyone lugging around the functional keepsake would look ridiculous because of the prominent brand name placement--it is difficult to seem self-respecting while rocking a "Yak Pak," we suppose; 2) the purpley tree-branch pattern looked like a Pacific Sunwear clearance-rack haulaway.

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Wouldn't we all.

The Internet would be a very dreary place without the exuberantly goofy antics of Andrew Wilkes-Krier. But today Andrew W.K. isn't confessing that he accidentally wet himself, or admitting that he's been the target of a restraining order, or talking about vomiting. Instead, his most recent bout of ludicrous public behavior is that the Santos Party House co-owner is hiding gifts around the city and telling his Twitter followers where to find them. Like, just an hour ago, an Andrew WK air freshener was "hidden" on a Bedford Avenue corner. Act quickly and "the scent of a party" can be all yours:

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​As spotted and carried away from the intersection of 4th and Bowery this morning. Could this flyer possibility be legitimate? Interscope, Young Money, and Universal are in fact all the same company (if three very disparate wings of it); those are indeed their logos. But is this really how bad it's gotten, that Universal Records is A&Ring via photocopied, pasted-up pieces of paper? That seemed doubtful. So we called the number, and got a pre-recorded message:

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​Friend-of-SOTC Stelios Phili (who's already got a band, unfortunately, or we would try and make him do this) spotted a musicians-wanted flier on Bowery and Fourth for sludge-metal/Rush/Sleater-Kinney fanatics who aren't, uh, well, I'll let them explain it. Do you like shredding and doodling? Do you have any other ideas for band names? Inquire within:

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​Here we have a flier recently encountered in Park Slope. Perhaps you are familiar with MiniBoone, the upstart indie-rockers laying ruin to the NYC music scene and, in their idle moments, teaching the impressionable youth of Park Slope/Prospect Heights pentatonic scales and the circle of fifths and the chords to Bush's "Glycerine." As James' contact info is omitted here, try the band's website. We are honored, by the way, to be quoted in this missive, and while I personally was not responsible for the David Byrne time-traveler conceit (surprisingly!), I'm sure it's totally accurate, and thus James is fully capable of having your kid bashing out "Wake Up" or "Psycho Killer" or whatever you desire in no time. [Thanks to Ms. Meltzer, and happy birthday.]

​Mike Patton may've teased the sold-out crowd at Monday night's Faith No More show by calling us "hipsters," but the malnourished layabouts who normally sashay down Bedford Ave really weren't the show's demographic. The East River Park was far more populated by aggro jocks, khaki cargo shorts, and suburban metal nerds. Endless Rage Against the Machine shirts. Bare-chested dudes whose tattoos were as subtle as bumper stickers, running around flexing and shouting "FUCK YEAH!" An Abercrombie-catalogue model-type in a white V-neck and white-hat that said PERV. A 37-year-old woman who declared inside the Beer Garden, "Faith No More was the first hip-hop I listened to after the Beastie Boys."

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We understand in great detail what a street team is (which we learned from listening to VoiceStreet over cubicle walls), and the importance of wide-scale sticker/flyer promotion, but is there really anyone out there, small business or new-to-town band, who would spot this serial-killer note taped to a Williamsburg pole on Metropolitan Avenue and dial the number (which you can't see here)? Even these shady, Hotmail-addressed Craig's List ads offering both hand-to-hand poster/flyer "commuter traffic distribution" offer a better sales pitch and cheaper rate: "5,000 FLYERS or Less for $475," which works out to be a little more than 10 cents a flyer. And in the event you have something smaller scale, you've got a couple of better options, including an important one called Do-It-Yourself. Then again, if we're truly missing something, and you'd like David Berkowitz's phone number, I'd be more than happy to pass it along, but not before making you explain why you're not dumb.

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