Originally from small-town Jersey, and now a sophomore in Steinhardt, Brent Butler knows for certain that despite any odds, music will be a part of his career. “I guess when you’re a musician in a small farm-town, you have a lot of time to sit around and write songs,” he openly admits.

“I’m not in Recorded Music, I’m not in Composition, I’m not in any of those majors where kids make music for homework and are gearing themselves towards a specific career. For me, it’s always been a ‘free time’ thing. But I know that if I’m going to go anywhere with this, I have to believe in myself. Lil’ Wayne swears he’s the best rapper alive, whether he is or he isn’t, and it’s that confidence – almost arrogance – that allows him to keep putting music out like a fucking monster, like a machine,” he says reverently.

A pertinent question at this point would be: at a school like NYU, where musical talent is more prevalent than much else, what makes Brent Butler relevant? In a school where everyone claims to be a songwriter, and in a city that makes us all artists, why pay any attention?

Butler’s claims to fame include playing at the CAS Block Party 2010, busking at several Subway stations and Washington Square Park, being selected for the finals of Ultra Violet Live 2010, and most recently (and most significantly), recording a live album at The Bitter End, New York’s oldest rock club with “Winter North and Night,” a band that he plays bass for. The album is slated to drop a month from now, before which the band has a host of shows scheduled in both Manhattan and Brooklyn, including UVL on February 25th. Although playing bass is new to Butler, who usually markets himself as a solo act, he acknowledges that “the more aspects of music that I hone in on at different times in my life, the more I will have to feed into, and they’ll help my ability to write songs as a composer.”

Butler was a small-town boy, born and raised in South Jersey (no, not Detroit), where his mother brought him up with country music (he claims to be able to sing along to multiple Dixie Chicks’ albums), while his father barraged him with cutting edge rock n’ roll. “I think him blasting Greenday and Weezer when I was 5 was what made me want to play guitar. I don’t know how that fits into things with a country mom, but that combination probably defines me,” he laughs. Now a singer/songwriter of the pop-rock persuasion, Butler also admits to “an undeniable compulsion to rap from time to time.”

As for the future, Butler knows that one way or another, music will feature in his professional life. “I love, love, love, love, love performing,” he asserts. “But, as a slightly more realistic option than being a breakout music sensation, I want to be a songwriter. Not to set the bar low – if I can make a living out of performing, then that’s awesome – but if not, I could have a very, very fulfilling career doing what the Dream or Kanye are doing.”

Winter North & Night website: www.wnanband.com

Brent Butler’s Fanpage: Search “Brent Butler” on Facebook.

UVL info: http://www.skirballcenter.nyu.edu/calendar/uvl_2010

Think back to your first week at NYU. Remember those Welcome Week best friends who you haven’t spoken to since? Remember when you had to sneak peeks at your map everywhere you went, playing it cool with your hands shaking? Remember your first “I Love New York” moment, watching the sunrise from the Brooklyn Bridge or having a stranger smile back? Think harder. Remember the first time you walked through Washington Square Park at night, mildly intoxicated on novelty or more illegal substances, and had your mind blown by the man with the stunning voice, singing all of your favorite songs in a way that seemed tailored specifically to say ”Welcome home.”? That man is Michael David Gordon. And he’s still around.

Michael was born in the Village to a blue-collar family – “Nurses, nurses’ aids, that’s who we are. My father worked for the telephone company, he was the guy hanging up wires, and my uncle was a doorman on Park Avenue” – all of whom nonetheless encouraged the arts in both Michael and his late brother. He graduated from the Fame High School for music and arts and took a baseball scholarship to college in New Mexico, but he got sick of the $300 phone bills his long distance romance was running up, and came back to New York to make it as a performer. Decades later, Gordon lives like a sitcom, with his now-lesbian-ex-girlfriend and her now-gay-ex-boyfriend in a brownstone house in Brooklyn. He sustains himself on theater, street music, and recording jobs (for Bud Lightand McDonald’s, amongst others)… “There are many ways,” he muses, “to cobble your living together.”

Gordon has been tied to the park for most of his life: “I had my first kiss in Washington Square Park. I was eight.” Thus began a relationship that’s outlasted many others for Gordon, a relationship that took new form when, on a warm Sunday in June seven years ago, Michael walked past guitarist Scott and harmonized with him on an Elton John song. They got to talking, and the two have been performing together ever since. As Gordon says, “I love making music live. It’s important – that back and forth. The longer I go on, the more important the live aspect becomes.”

“It’s interesting,” Gordon adds, “because the more technology we discover, the more people decide to be in studios, in their rooms, on their iPods. I’m interested in just the opposite – what’s it like to make music live with people, for people, to watch the communication back and forth.”

Buskers are an integral part of the New York experience. “The dynamic of making music live and people coming to hear you live outside – it’s a very specific thing and it’s really quite magical,” Gordon told me. He then went on to recount some of the stories he’s collected over the last eight years in Washington Square Park. For example, Gordon says, “We’ve had people on their way to Broadway shows not go to the Broadway show and just sit and watch us for hours, knowing full well that they were missing the show, giving up hundred dollar tickets. A couple of years ago a guy brought his fiancé to the park and asked her to marry him while he was at the jam. He said, ‘I knew if I asked her at the jam, she’d say yes.’ And she did!”

But romance aside, there’s no denying that the life of a performer is one fraught with insecurities and hardships. “It’s very hard to be an artist in America,” Michael agrees, “You’re either a star, or you work in a restaurant.” The last time he had what he calls a “straight job” was when he was a sophomore in college, nearly two decades ago. He relays an anecdote about his friend who had a job on Wall Street but “got bored out of his company,” and now sings in subway stations. “I have no problems with a straight world, if you will, but it’s just not for me.”

At the same time, he admits to being continually surprised by the generosity of complete strangers. Aside from money, he’s received live iguanas, pebbles, sealed panties from Victoria’s Secret, food, coffee, and hugs. “It’s amazing how much people will give when you touch just one chord,” he laughs. “It makes people feel like they’re a part of something. Society needs buskers. Society needs Madonna too, and all the people in between.”

Fall in New York City means many things – some of them questionable – to many people. But to music aficionados, it rings one harmonically perfect, super-loud bell: the CMJ (College Music Journal) Music Marathon (October 21st – 25th). As every year, the festival will span 5 days, 5 nights, 75 venues around the city, and over 1000 artists. Beginning last year, a convenient alliance between MEISA (Music and Entertainment Industry Student Association), NYU and CMJ ensures one of those 1200 spots to an NYU band, determined by virtue of a Battle of the Bands, which this year took place on October 9th in Kimmel’s Eisner & Lubin auditorium. Seven bands, each as eccentric as the next, brought their decibels through three grueling rounds of auditions onto that stage, and (after an extended sound-check which left an initially disgruntled audience waiting outside closed doors for a while) they collectively put up a battle worth hearing.

The night began with DJ-duo Stitch N Eye-V playing persistent house music to a steadily filling auditorium. After a few technical delays, they faded, allowing first act Natti Vogel to inaugurate the night’s battle. Vogel, with his theatrical expressions, searing lyrics, undeniably catchy riffs, and upright bass and violin accompaniments, kept the crowd fascinated through his set, though he proved too esoteric for some. “His lyrics were original, but I wasn’t too keen on the sound,” said Danielle Blanchard (NYU grad student) about his nearly intrusive vocal style, strongly reminiscent of Rasputina and the Dresden Dolls.

The next band on stage, Analogue Transit, was a three-piece ensemble that stood out for sheer versatility, and eventually walked away as 2nd runners up. They began their set with a subdued and understated song, but somehow finished up with a hip-hop/electronica/hard rock feel that had everyone on their feet, or at the very least thinking about it. MEM, who followed Analogue Transit, was energy embodied. All five members thoroughly occupied their spaces; jumping, yelling, dancing, and engaging the audience in a multitude of (often tambourine-assisted) ways. Their music, although tight and commendable, was overshadowed by their overwhelming stage presence. Bad News Babe, up next, fell into a stage setup oddly reminiscent of the Jonas Brothers (as much as we hate to say it). Their undeniable neatness, good-boy-harmonies and straight-edged mannerisms were very in sync with their generically appealing musical style, which ultimately won them 1st runners up.

The Brothers Frank, the night’s victors, was a simple two-man act: one bass guitarist, one guitarist, and one drum-loop. Chris and Hayden Frank captivated and enthralled everyone present with their new-age lullabies, somehow combining tribal beats with borderline-psychedelic vocal harmonies and high-fretted pungent bass-lines. Each shift in their progressions was orchestrated carefully to lull the listeners along on what can only be described as a reverie. While they sailed over the competition on musical talent alone, every heterosexual girl and homosexual guy in the room would agree that their dimples did not hurt their cause. At all.

The penultimate act of the night, Amadeus, snapped everyone out of their Frank-induced haze, launching the audience headfirst without warning into a clamoring of belligerent metal vocals, uncompromising drum patterns, complex guitar riffs and relentless bass-lines, which combined to form undeniable momentum. Every metal fan in the room breathed relief and the rest cringed, as Amadeus provided a two-song set that can be best described as loud. “It was fucking awesome,” said CAS freshman Jonathan Fang, “but this may have been the wrong borough for metal. I’d follow them to Brooklyn!” They were followed on stage by Kevin Haden, the final act of the night, who provided nearly comical juxtaposition to their 4-man-raucousness, replacing it with a solo acoustic set complete with sentimental lyrics and cute jokes. A few people waved their lit cell-phones in the air, others “awww”d quietly, and the rest simply acknowledged Haden as an appropriately soothing final act for a night whose volatility and versatility would leave most of us reeling for a while.