CMJ: Bodega Girls, Norwood, NY

Boston’s Bodega Girls are a fresh blast of blood, sweat and rock & roll to hit the stages of CMJ this year. A saving grace for those of us concert goers tired of stages filled with too many apathetic too-cool-for-school shows; the Bodega Girls are here to shake you up and aren’t afraid to get down and dirty, most of the time literally with a little on-the-floor rock out action. With crowd hits like ‘She’s Into Black Guys’ , ‘Ain’t That Cold’, and the ever-fun sing-a-long ‘We Are Losers’, where tambourines, maracas and microphones are passed to the audience to join in the rock-out fun, it’s near impossible to not get sucked into the inevitable party on the dance floor.

On a CMJ night filled with concerts in rock venues and dive bars, here I am Bodega Girls bound, wandering back and forth on West 14th Street in Manhattan, surrounded by fast food joints and nail salons, trying to figure out where on earth a ‘mansion’, as was described to me, could possibly exist here. Suddenly, I spot across the street two finely-suited men standing guard a beautiful, secluded brownstone. Following a mixed crowd of designer-clad model-esque girls, and another group of wide-eyed , confused looking hipster kids in ironic t-shirts and fringe boots (who likewise apparently don’t know what the hell is going on), we make our way up to the bouncer secured entrance. After having my name checked off the list in hand, I enter Norwood - the $5,000/month members-only club/ lounge I can only describe as sort of a parallel affluent universe, light-years away from the sweaty dive bar basement show the Bodega Girls played a couple of days earlier. Twisting up the spiral staircase I pass one chicly decorated lounge or restaurant after another, and finally hit a dark, red-lit bar with people I actually recognize. $12 for a vodka and soda later, accompanied by a shocked and confused look at the bartender, I’m on my way up one more level to the top floor where the concert is taking place.

A white-cube air conditioned room awaits me, packed with the model and confused hipster mixed crowd, wondering how on planet Norwood-private-club are the Bodega Girls going to pull this one off. Bodega Girls members Evan Kenney and Carmen O’Connor are sporting their trademark warrior face paint, and various fans don the same. After a momentary anticipation the band starts. Evan looks out on and declares, ‘You all smell fucking delicious,’ and bursts into middle of the crowd in song. The face-painted party-warrior fans erupt in dance.

Throughout the show various band members, seemingly in a trance, head into the throng eyes closed, and crowd circling around dancing and singing along. Photographers, who obviously figured to set themselves in front, are scrambling back to get a shot of band members shaking tambourines and crouched on the floor, with the masses surrounding, fist-pumping away. By the end of the show, the polished martini-toting room has melted into a sweaty rock out session, and an evening of good ol’ fashioned sweat-it-out rock and roll fun is had by all.