Crowds of people waiting in the freezing cold last week in the hopes of snagging a ticket to the sold-out PLUG Awards Ceremony at Irving Plaza. Spun out of frustration by a handful of music fanatics tired with the mainstream, the PLUG Awards gamely celebrates music of the independent variety. An annual online ballot posts nominees of “artists, labels and media,” who according to PLUG, “operate outside that market share.” Thousands log in to cast their vote, and the winners are posted as a symbolic nod to the hard work of the indie world: there are no statues, no speeches, no cash prizes. Three years ago, PLUG accompanied the results with an awards show, which fashions itself as a bizarro Grammys. Casual and democratic (tickets are a mere $10 a head), this year’s line-up was PLUG’s most impressive yet. On the bill were newcomers Tokyo Police Club and Silversun Pickups; classic act Deerhoof and veteran Stephen Malkmus (with The Jicks); and the respected hip-hop performer, El-P. New York comedian and actor David Cross presided over the evening with his usual flair and panache. As he put it, “It’s kinda an award show, there’s no real award, but we call it an award.”
Tokyo Police Club kicked off the evening with a jittery energy, their boyish charm enthusiastically received. Tall, lithe, and awkward – with voices on the verge of cracking – they engaged the audience with requests for hand-clapping and lines such as, “Operator, get me the President of the world!” Hand-clapping aside, their fresh-faced verve proved their album, A Lesson in Crime, well earned their PLUG nominations.
Deerhoof was the second act to follow, and the trio was steadfast in rocking out, complete with Satomi Matsuzaki’s twee shouts, hand signals and salutes. Their latest album, Friend Opportunity has a distinct “art-rock” sensibility, and it was keenly felt as the band pounded away until guitarist John Dieterich broke his string. Frank and apologetic, the abrupt ending was unsettling until Matsuzaki was surprised with a ice-cream birthday cake and Cross led the crowd in, “Happy Birthday.” Matsuzaki bowed deeply a few times in thanks – her bass still strapped on – concluding their set.
Between the music acts, Cross engaged the audience with various jokes and hilarious ramblings (asserting, for example, that the porno My Ass is Haunted represented the best cross-genre (horror and porn) yet, and arguing with a gigantic David Cross puppet). As some of the filler acts began to go disastrously downhill (the confusing French iPod battle was left unexplained by a grumbling French man), Cross salvaged the evening from a grumpy crowd with his self-deprecating humor. “It all looked good on paper,” he insisted.
El-P played a mere two songs as the third band in the line-up, sarcastically remarking on the Red Bull sponsored turntables, giving shout-outs to Brooklyn, and filling the room with a raw, male energy. It’s still unclear why they cut their act short, perhaps they perceived that the audience was patiently waiting for the final act. Silversun Pickups, which followed, was more than aware, with lead singer Brian Aubert giddily remarking, “I can’t believe we’re opening for Stephen Malkmus.” He bandmates smiled embarrassingly. “I mean technically,” he continued, “Deerhoof opened for us.” Despite their naive stage presence, the group’s playing was epic, evoking vintage California grunge (they’re named after a Sunset/Silver Lake liquor store). The songs occasionally dragged, precipitously close to becoming rambling and dramatic. Nonetheless, they filled Irving Plaza with their sound and left David Cross pleasantly complimentary.
In mockery of the hype surrounding Malkmus (he was awarded the PLUG Impact Award and we were treated to a tribute video of Malkmus’ career), Cross pulled the best stunt of the night, staging an interview with Malkmus a la James Lipton Inside the Actor’s Studio. Fully and falsely bearded, Cross bellowed out questions to Malkmus. “What turns you on?” Cross drolled. Malkmus paused, hunching his lanky frame in the chair. “Ice cream in the afternoon,” he finally responded. Cross approved, “Verrrrry good.” Adoring fans took note, and as Malkmus got ready to play a girl yelled out, “I love you Stephen!” “No,” insisted a male voice across the room, “I LOVE YOU.” Too cool to really notice, Malkmus and The Jinks raced through their set, hoping to play as much as possible. He switched between two guitars, both lovingly patched with duck tape, and at the end of the night fans stood with their arms crossed and heads nodding in approval. Not bad, PLUG, not bad at all.
