In white lace gloves, knee-length vintage dresses and matching silver heels, three girls belted out the woes of a failed relationship while waving their glittering pom-poms. This wasn't Grease or Bye Bye Birdie; no, it was a rock opera by Bling Kong, an innovative New York-based collective of cheerleaders, kitschy choreography, and classic videos in every live performance.

The crowd filled the bleachers at Northsix for the moody, no-frills rock of Earlimart, who debuted brand new songs they'd only played together two times prior. The Los Angeles-based band delivered alternately haunting and poppy songs, whose lyrics oft-lamented failed romance, and melancholy piano chords that launched semi-furious guitar melodies.

Silversun Pickups had a false start at Pianos last night. A few seconds into their opening song, Brian Aubert, the Los Angeles-based rock band's frontman, stepped on a pedal connected to Nikki Monninger's bass. The sound went flat, and the band stopped playing, preparing to start again.

Amidst the dozens of hip new indie pop acts from Sweden and noise collectives out of Brooklyn, CMJ made room for a classic last night at New Jersey's Maxwell's: The Slits, recently reformed after 25 years with two of their originals -- Ari Up (vocals) and Tessa Pollitt (bass) -- and four new members.

What Made Milwaukee Famous don't yet live up to the adjective in their name, but if the indie rock outfit from Austin, Texas make it big, they can likely credit the work of keyboardist Drew Patrizi. At their Bowery Ballroom show, Patrizi's chord-banging, which alone wouldn't be out of place in a Mario Brothers video game, gave the

After an otherworldly wail from the dark, smoke-filled stage, brilliant white lights snapped on to reveal Mute Math vocalist Paul Meany as he stood triumphantly on top of an amp, famed red keytar in hand. When the drums built into an ecstatic rush, he jumped down like Sammy Hagar and the audience at B.B. King's went crazy.

Forget about guitars, drums and keyboards. At the Bowery Ballroom Wednesday, bands blasted their indie rock with the help of some kooky instruments: Maracas, French horns, tambourines, and huge double basses.

Spin's staff members have been trouncing the streets of Manhattan, heading to small clubs for intimate performances and large venues for buzzed-about bands.

During First Nation's set at Cake Shop, there was little movement in the crowd or onstage. The all-female NYC trio played a trance-inducing set built on primitive drumming, chant-like harmonies, and dissonant keyboards. They played their instruments languidly and tentatively, as if waiting to see what sounds would emerge from them.

Two Loons for Tea could only be described as dreamy when they took the stage at Crash Mansion during CMJ's opening singer/songwriter showcase. Sarah Scott's vocals snapped from soaring to breathy in one verse, and with perfectly controlled flutters a la Billie Holiday, her band was both lush and bittersweet.