I Love a Band in Uniform

This won't be the lame column that serves as a Best/Worst list to cover up how I'm really on Christmas vacation. However, let's consider what had to be the Worst Box Set of 2004. The title of the four-disc Left of the Dial can be dismissed as harmless nostalgia, but you'd still have to be a real masochist to indulge yourself in this epic collection of 80s college rock. What a dark time that was in our nation's musical development. Bands slavishly tried to sound like Sonic Youth, the Pixies, the Replacements, Depeche Mode, REM or the Smiths-or, in truly ugly moments of inspiration, some fatal combination thereof. Sometimes they'd toss in some Coltrane.

Even worse, the music played against the backdrop of young leftists pretending that Ronald Reagan was a mere drooling idiot who also had the cunning of an antichrist. The kids were as misguided then as they grew up to become now-as we'll see in 2024, when the Dem candidate will reverently invoke G.W. Bush as often as John Kerry invoked the Gipper this year.

There are some good bands on Left of the Dial, but the depressing discs mainly rely on the sole good songs from rightful one-hit wonders that were somehow elevated to long careers. And how did those long careers come about? The ugly advent of college radio. Ergo, it's surprising that I'm attending what's being promoted as the first ever College Music Awards.

After all, college radio's remained a musical quagmire since the 80s. However, the College Music Awards offer something that is the complete opposite of a quagmire. Specifically, they boast of a sponsorship with the United States Navy.

I stroll into Irving Plaza to find the pleasant sight of common sailors and Naval officers socializing at the back bar. This is a damn sight better than the fauxhawked hippies I was expecting. The sailors seem to have sent those creeps running. I haven't seen Irving Plaza looking this deserted since the last concert by Fear. Posted signs announce that the evening is being videotaped for broadcast, but don't expect to see many crowd shots. It wouldn't be possible.

As it turns out, the show will be broadcast on the collegiate Zilo Networks. Any other music network would probably disdain a Navy-sponsored event. Don't hold the Navy alliance against the College Music Awards, though. The organization has also been arranging events in conjunction with the ACLU. As we'll soon learn, everybody gets to hate the College Music Awards.

For the moment, however, I'm happy to be drinking with military men. And a military woman, too-specifically, Commander Brunhilde K. Bradley of the New York Recruiting District. Shamefully, I allow her to buy me a cocktail with a drink ticket that should be spent on an American enlisted man. She's trying to get me to talk to her boys for quotes about how great it is to serve in the military. I explain to Commander Bradley that I don't have to get drunk to celebrate the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines.

In fact, let's take this opportunity to celebrate John F. O'Neill as the Man of the Year. The Vietnam vet fought one last battle to get the word out about John F. Kerry's miserable military antics. Brunhilde looks pretty good as Woman of the Year. She's certainly inspirational with her demurely slit officer's skirt. There's a hint of great American legs that would be worthy of a military defense. She's got that soft-butch look that all military gals have, but the commander's more femme than any of the alleged women at the Walkmen's merchandise table.

I make this observation while Lars Frederickson & the Bastards are being played on the speaker system. They're singing about how it's 25 years since Vietnam and a soldier isn't getting any respect. Honestly, the only thing that could ruin this evening would be if they actually held a College Music Awards.

The organizers wait until 9:30 before finally giving up any hope of having an audience. An announcer then informs us "some of the best bands in America are right here tonight." That's a pretty grandiose way of introducing folksy UK gal Ellie Lawson. She's pretty good, and her upcoming album will hopefully be as stripped down as her short acoustic set. But then Flyleaf's goth-hiphop-metal sends me downstairs, where I find the one-man rent party known as Marky Ramone pontificating for a video camera.

This leaves me as puzzled as the kids who've slowly wandered in to see the Walkmen. The band is serving as the night's big headliner. That clever booking has slowly brought in a decent crowd. They're mostly confused when "Steve from Fuse" is introduced as our host. I'd noticed that the Walkmen hadn't mentioned the College Music Awards while sending out announcements about the night's show.

Steve gamely tries to goof on the prepared text while introducing a video that will efficiently name the evening's categories, nominees and winners. The crowd plays along by making this an interactive experience. There are plenty of jeers when Norah Jones starts things off by winning Best Female Rock Artist. Fortunately, that's quickly followed by an announcement that "Norah was unable to accept her award, as she is currently on tour in South America."

The announcer doesn't bother giving Kanye West an excuse for not showing up to receive his charmingly titled Hip-Hop Award. Jason Mraz then accepts his award as Best Male Rock Artist via videotape. That's another smart move, since Jason's spared all the booing that follows his name being announced as the winner. Ben Folds was the clear favorite among the Walkmen audience.

There are also plenty of groans when Yellowcard wins for Album of the Year. Modest Mouse and Franz Ferdinand would've gotten more love. Some guy from the band accepts via video. I think it's Ryan Key, but I'm not sure. I have a hard time remembering the individual members from their posters in Pop Star magazine.

As the night's big surprise, Taking Back Sunday actually drive in from Long Island to accept the prize as Band of the Year. They seem like good guys. They're certainly willing to acknowledge that Wilco won the Irving Plaza straw poll. "We heard a couple of those boos," says frontman Adam Lazzara from the stage, "but that's all right."

This is all so much inconsequential fun. I'm mainly impressed that someone was able to line up the rights to the name "College Music Awards" at this late date. But then some Ramones concert footage starts playing. That's when I remember some talk of a special guest receiving an Icon Award. The announcer begins narrating over the Ramones video, invoking every cliché you'd expect from a College Music Journal review. I'm just kind of staring in amazement, thinking that they can't seriously be planning to drag Marky Ramone out onto the stage.

Out comes Marky. He's got an acoustic guitar slung around his shoulder, and he's pretending to strum while singing "Mr. Tambourine Man." Well, he has to do something. The crowd still seems really excited. Marky finally abandons his initial high concept-whatever that was-and proceeds to give a typically baffling speech. It starts out with the usual fake persecution. "The awards are coming for only one reason," Marky declares, "because finally the Ramones are getting the respect they deserve!"

Never mind that the world is full of bands that would be thrilled to spend their careers being disrespected on the level of the Ramones. To be fair, Marky eventually becomes surprisingly likable. He mentions Tommy, and defends Journey and Fleetwood Mac after the crowd instinctively boos at the mere mention of their names. C.J. shouldn't have gone unmentioned, but it's a relief that Marky isn't worse at this kind of thing. It's what he'll be doing for a living now.

There are sailors in the crowd, so Johnny Ramone would be proud to be part of this evening. That's it for the awards, though. The Walkmen take the stage and apologize to their fans about everything that just happened. It's good to see them play, and they'd probably goof on the awards ceremony even if they'd been nominated. Speaking of which, the Walkmen's heavily hyped "The Rat" really might be the Song of the Year. But did anyone hear the rest of Bows & Arrows? Wait a few decades and pick up the song as part of Left of the Dial: Vol. 2.