It's noon on Saturday, the earliest I've managed to wake myself up the whole week I've been at the CMJ music festival in New York. Under the circumstances, it isn't early enough. Frustrated with myself, I throw on some clothes and double-time it out into the cold October air, onto the streets of SoHo, past the yuppies brunching, across Bowery and into the Lower East Side, past Moby's stupid vegan restaurant, over the puddles and through the trash. The Arcade Fire is playing in four hours. Four! The line's probably around the block already.... More >>>