On March 5, all-girl supergroup Wild Flag made their New York City debut with two shows at the tiny Rock Shop in Brooklyn. Featuring some of indie rock’s most experienced and flat-out rocking women, the fledgling band sounded exactly like the sum of its parts. Now, for most other bands, that might seem like faint praise. However, when your “parts” are made up of two-thirds of Sleater-Kinney (guitarist/singer Carrie Brownstein and drummer Janet Weiss), ex-Helium frontwoman Mary Timony, and Rebecca Cole of the Minders, that’s a sum that most bands can only dream of.

Having played only a handful of shows before their Brooklyn double-bill, the band was clearly still working out the kinks. But it was easy to see what drew the band together. There’s clearly a musical kinship. Besides Brownstein and Weiss sharing time in Sleater-Kinney, Brownstein and Timony had a one-off side project called The Spells back in the late 90′s. And as with The Spells, Timony and Brownstein split lead vocal duties and play dueling lead guitars in Wild Flag. As far as current rock band lineups go, their might not be a better 1-2 punch of guitarists than Timony and Brownstein. Timony seems more technically proficient, breezing through two-finger tapping solos, while Brownstein trades more in killer riffs and Pete Townshend-esque theatrics. But their styles, while distinct, never get in each other’s way, and mesh beautifully. And as much as one may lament the demise of Sleater-Kinney and Helium, seeing this new guitar pairing almost makes one wish those bands had broken up sooner. Almost.

Despite Wild Flag having only officially released their first song, “Glass Tambourine,” a few days ago via an NPR stream, the tightly-packed crowd couldn’t have been more excited — unsurprising, given the band’s pedigree. The show was really too big for the venue, which until last year was a sweltering-hot lesbian bar called Cattyshack. The new owners apparently did nothing to fix the air circulation problem, but the crowd didn’t seem to care. After the band tore through an album’s worth of songs, one wondered what they would play for an encore. After the band re-emerged, one crowd member requested “Just play all of that, again!”  That would have been quite a feat, since this was already the second show for the band in three hours. Instead, the band ripped off a great cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Beast of Burden,” followed by Patti Smith’s “Ask the Angels.”

As good as the band sounded on Saturday, it’s easy to forget that they only formed late last year. So it’s almost scary to think how good they’ll sound as they really get going. For fans of pounding, guitar-driven, female rock – or really,  just rock in general – Wild Flag really have a dream of a lineup.

(Personal sidenote: After the show, I was standing outside the club, and, as a fan of Sleater-Kinney, got a bit of a chuckle/thrill when Carrie Brownstein walked out with a redheaded companion, headed for the street, and hailed a cab with her other hand casually on her hip. As a bonus, Janet Weiss was standing nearby. It was almost perfectly this.)

Southern-rock band Drive-By Truckers, in New York to play Terminal 5 on New Year’s Eve, played a more intimate show – as intimate as a show can get in a bowling alley, anyway – the day before at Brooklyn Bowl in Williamsburg. Though tickets to the show were only available to New Year’s Eve ticket holders, and despite the show taking place just a few days after a blizzard buried much of the Northeast, the venue was packed with die-hard fans (and bowling enthusiasts).

Despite the fact that most of the fans in attendance would be seeing the Drive-By Truckers 24 hours later, the band played a generously long set, heavy on songs from their most recent album, The Big To-Do. Singer/guitarist Patterson Hood  even brought along his dad, noted studio musician David Hood, to play bass on four songs.

Given the Trucker’s Southern background and sound, a  bowling alley seemed like the perfect venue for the band, especially since their fried chicken (created, like the rest of the menu, by the folks behind Blue Ribbon) is among the best in the city. So being able to watch the band for an hour, take a break, and chow down on some delicious chicken and equally-delicious mac and cheese while still being able to see the band, made for one heck of a great music experience.

Given the desolate location, terrible sight lines, and cavernous Thunder Dome-esque space of Terminal 5, it would have been worth it to buy tickets to the New Year’s Eve show just to get tickets to the Brooklyn Bowl show, and skip the Terminal 5 show entirely. Unless you really love the Drive-By Truckers. And given the crowd reaction at Brooklyn Bowl, it didn’t seem like many of the fans planned on skipping a Drive-By Truckers show. Ever.

Venerable indie record label Matador Records turned 21 this year, and what better place to hold a 21st birthday celebration than Las Vegas? So over three days at the Palms, a cavalcade of Matador stars, past and present, celebrated the label that helped to usher in “indie rock” into the musical vernacular.

The mood all weekend was, naturally, nostalgic and celebratory. Liz Phair called it a “college reunion,” and many of the bands cited how excited they were to see the old gang again. These days, record labels are less and less relevant, but waaaaaay back in the 90′s,  you could tell a lot about a band simply based on what label they were on. And in the 90′s, Matador was the big dog of the indie labels, home to some of the most influential bands of the decade, like Pavement, Guided By Voices, Liz Phair, and Belle and Sebastian.

Besides the actual music of the weekend, which was generally great all around, the best thing about the shows was that all the bands stayed in the Palms, along with most of the fans. So just walking around, you’d see bands all over, hanging out, gambling, etc. I checked in to the hotel as Pavement was arriving, had breakfast flanked by various New Pornographers, and stepped into the elevator with Superchunk. So there was a very communal feeling all weekend. Plus, it was kind of amazing how great almost every person performing looked. It’s like there was a fountain of youth clause in the standard Matador contract. Everyone looks almost exactly the same, if not better, as they did in the 90′s. Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon is pushing 60, and looks the same. Same with Thurston Moore. Steve Malkmus and Bob Nostanovich look almost better, Mac McCaughan from Superchunk still looks like he’s 14, and Robert Pollard of GBV is obviously immortal.

Best performance awards go to Superchunk and Sonic Youth, two been-around-forever acts that still brought the A-game. Superchunk in particular had the best energy of any act all weekend. Yo La Tengo reminded me why I like their records but hate their live show- endelss guitar wankery surrounding what would otherwise be beautiful songs. And the Pavement performance was the most intriguing, as the happy feelings around the reunion seemed to come crashing down in front of our eyes. It was like watching a train wreck set to indie rock. Whether it was due to sound problems or intra-band strife or a mixture of both, the band seemed all out of sorts. Scott Kannberg in particular spent most of the hour-long set visibly pissed off, stepping off stage several times to berate the sound guy.

Current Matador artists like New Pornographers, Belle and Sebastian, Kurt Vile, and Fucked Up were no slouches, and showed that the label is still in pretty good hands, while artists from Matador past like Spoon, Superchunk, and Chavez  gave off a local-boy-does good vibe.

It was also great to see Liz Phair and Cat Power, two notoriously stage-fright-y singers, received so warmly by the crowd and give great performances. Chan Marshall was nearly upstaged by her great backing band, and Phair played a sparse, but great, 20 minute set, accompanied by a single guitarist, and joined by Ted Leo for set closer “Fuck and Run.”  In a weekend full of nostalgia, Phair’s performance seemed the most nostalgic, given her less-than-amicable split from the label over 15 years ago, as well as the less-than stellar reception of her recent albums.

And of course, they higlight weekend was a tour-de-force by the “classic 1993-96″ lineup of the recently reunited Guided By Voices, who tore through 30+ songs over a two-hour, multiple encore set.

Check out a slew of pictures below.

Broken Bells- the new project of the Shins’ James Mercer and producer/musician Danger Mouse- performed at the first of four AOL Spinner.com Pop-Up Series shows at this year’s South by Southwest Festival in Austin, TX. The location was kept secret until the morning of the show, but by the time the concert began at 1:00 PM, the Red River Parking Garage was packed with fans. Those who couldn’t get in watched from the street, and the sound was surprisingly good for a concert in an empty concrete parking structure.

The six-piece band played most of the songs off their debut record during the 45-minute set, with Mercer on guitar and vocals, and Danger Mouse on drums and a bit of guitar. Then, they scurried off “backstage,” which was the top level of the parking garage.

At the first of two not-so-secret secret shows, the National debuted songs from their forthcoming album, High Violet, to a sold-out crowd that was packed from the stage to the door. The show was announced on Monday morning, just a few hours before tickets went on sale, and it sold out in about two minutes. Clearly, the crowd was excited, and the band did not disappoint their adopted hometown.

Singer Matt Berninger roamed a crowded stage that featured a small brass section and a violinist/keyboardist, in addition to the regular lineup of brothers- guitarists Aaron and Bryce Dessner, drummer Bryan Devendorf, and bassist Scott Devendorf. The High Violet songs seemed to continue the more somber, pensive direction of their last record, Boxer, with more strings and horns and less raucous guitar.

While about half the set were new songs, the older songs the National played were definitely crowd pleasers: Boxer standouts “”Fake Empire” and “Start a War” (Berninger forgot the words, but, hey, these are warmup shows), Alligator opener “Secret Meeting,”and the frenetic, thumping “Abel.” “Fake Empire” in particular,showcases all the band’s strengths– it opens quietly with piano and Berninger’s distinctive baritone and slowly builds to a swelling, guitar and horn-filled crescendo– and is even better live than on record. During the encore of “Mr. November,” Berninger, clearly enjoying the show and the bottle of white wine he’d consumed, climbed the monitors, jumped to the floor, and ran through the crowd, mic in hand.

While the band will play Radio City Music Hall and Brooklyn’s Prospect Park Bandshell later this summer, the smaller venue seemed the perfect setting for the National to try out their new material. In bigger venues, the National’s songs, especially the quieter, slow-building songs, seem to lose impact and get lost in vast open spaces. In the intimate setting of the Bell House, the songs were felt to full effect.

Mates of State wrapped up a short northeastern US tour on Sunday at the Bell House in Brooklyn, in front of a sold-out crowd.  Despite not having a new album to promote, and a nearly disastrous electric organ malfunction, the husband/wife duo of Kori Gardner (keyboards/vocals) and Jason Hammel (percussion/vocals) played a crowd-pleasing hour and a half set. In addition to  songs from their entire 10-year discography, the pair mixed in a few new tunes slated for their next album, which they are currently in the process of recording.

Among the highlights was a cameo by comedian/Brooklynite-about-town Eugene Mirman. Coming out before the Mates’ encore, Mirman was greeted with the usual mix of cheers from fans and who-the-heck-is-this heckling from others. After threatening to play an array of Jethro Tull songs on Gardner’s keyboard, Mirman remained on stage for the duration of the encore, and “played” the drums on a cover of Tom Waits’ “Took the Long Road Home.”  As is usual with Mirman in such appearances, he trod the fine line between entertaining and ruinous intrusion.

Mates of State, however, sounded great. Their harmonies were working, they had the crowd dancing, and they didn’t appear to have lost any vitality after a decade-long career that’s seen five records, one wedding, and two kids. Mates of State seem to function well as a band and a couple, and in a tongue-in-cheek nod to their seemingly blissful union, they ended a particularly sweet, everything-is-magical-and-wonderful duet with a simple, harmonized coda of “Unicorns!”

It’s hard to know who was more excited about Boat playing in Brooklyn, the crowd or the band. On a fittingly rainy, chilly night, the Seattle band played the first of two Brooklyn shows in the intimate downstairs of Union Hall. And if anyone in the audience doubted the sincerity of the band’s many mentions of how excited they were to be back in New York, the cardboard replica of the Mets’ home run apple set aside any doubts (unless of course they use that prop at every show, which would be just weird. Or perhaps they use cardboard replicas of iconic sports stadium features as the new “Hello Cleveland!” shout out -  a replica Green Monster in Boston and a Liberty Bell in Philly).

Handing out torn up newspaper “confetti” and whistles before and during the show, the band were gregarious and engaging throughout their hour-long set, which comprised mostly of songs from their new album Setting the Paces, as well as some old songs, a Dear Nora cover, and even a verse of Guided by Voices’ “Motor Away.” The quartet’s live show will never blow you away, but like their records, they’re just solid from start to finish.

The great thing about the CMJ Music Marathon is, obviously, that so many good bands come to New York every October. Of course, much of the action is centered in Manhattan’s already-crowded Lower East Side. Thankfully, every year there are more and more shows in Brooklyn, where several great new venues have popped up over the last few years. But since the LES is still where most of the action is at, a lot of the Brooklyn shows tend to be less populated. This is a normally a good thing, as it was on Wednesday night at the Bell House (10/21/2009). which is just out of the way enough in the Gowanus section of Brooklyn to be an inconvenient (and, honestly, kind of scary if you’re walking alone) trek. But once there, attendees were treated to a night of mostly-British (Empire) rock, and pretty fine rock at that.

After sets ranging from adequate to impressive by New Zealand’s Surf City, North Carolina’s The Love Language, and the UK’s Let’s Wrestle, headliners Pete and the Pirates took the stage well after midnight in front of a moderately-sized but extremely enthusiastic crowd.  While Pete and the Pirates play mostly upbeat, brit-rock , singer/guitarist Tommy Sanders conveys a sort of melancholy onstage – both in his lyrics and his general demeanor – that keeps the whole affair from becoming too sweet. If the members of Interpol were slightly happier, or less pretentious, they might well sound like Pete and the Pirates.

The band tore through most of their one album, Little Death, as well as a few new songs slated for album #2.  While Little Death is a pretty nice record, performed live, the songs have just a little more kick, which is all you can really ask for out of a live show. There were many heads a-bobbin’. It should also be mentioned that despite the obvious talents of Sanders and guitarist Peter Hefferan, at times it seems like bassist Peter Cattermoul holds the whole thing together: not only does he play great bass-lines under fairly simple melodies, but he has some great rock and roll moves to match.

While the tunes of Pete and the Pirates are quite impressive overall, their song “Mr. Understanding” is a truly transcendent piece of music. It’s easily one of the best songs of the last two years, and is a nearly-perfect rock song: a simple yet insanely catchy guitar line, great harmonies, and a driving, steady beat build up a melodic tension that never fully pays off, which makes you want to hear the song over and over and over.  That song alone was worth the price of admission… and the trip to Middle of Nowhere, Brooklyn, NY.