Here at THE VINYL DISTRICTwe're good consumers. All Mp3's are posted to promote and give exposure to the music and are linked for a limited time. Please download to preview, then head promptly to your local vinyl vendor (or - OK, CD store too) and fork over your hard earned cash. You'll appreciate the piece of mind.
Got something you think we should be listening to or reading? thevinyldistrict (at) gmail.com
If you've come to understand our tastes, you'll recognize that London's The Supernovas are a straight shot right up the center:
“Vinyl is something that has always been seen as a thing of the past by many of my generation. If I got a penny for every time I had someone say to me; “Vinyl?!? Who still plays vinyl?!?” when I was trying to sell them one of our 7”s, then I’d at least have enough to buy a copy for myself!
For me though, it was still very important that we released our singles on vinyl as well as digitally. I’m a Northern Soul enthusiast and as such, am part of a small collective of people (the readers of this article included) that genuinely believe that vinyl just sounds better than the compressed digital formats that people are so familiar with in this digital age. And in my opinion, there is no sound stronger than a 45rpm vinyl.
Vinyl for me is special – a real tangible format unlike an MP3. You can’t frame a digital download. You can’t store it in a box in the attic for your grandchildren to find 50 years later and play on a dusty old system that sounds as old (and magical) as it actually is. And you can’t find one in the bottom of a box in a charity shop and then flog it on eBay for ten times the price you bought it for.
My love affair with vinyl began when I was 18. I had just began a DJing residency at The Bar; a club in Hanway Street, located in London’s Soho area which specialised in Mod, Jazz and Soul. I had started the night with another musician friend called James Bone (although he got barred after that night but that’s another story!) and we didn’t own a single record between us! My whole set was made up of CDs (which I didn’t realise at the time was a big NO - not cool at all!). It didn’t take me long to work it out though and before long I was up in my Nan’s loft, trawling through boxes upon boxes of records, hunting out various little gems - the first of which was Marvin Gaye’s ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine’ which was backed with ‘Can I Get A Witness’ the latter is a track which I still play at every single DJ set I do and have done since!
From then on, my quest for a decent record collection began in earnest and I started visiting all of London’s independent record shops (a dying trade which really seems to be kept alive by the medium of vinyl alone) in search of something special. The most memorable of these trips was a visit to a shop in Camden where I came across a 7-inch of N.F. Porter’s ‘Keep On Keeping On’. The price was £8 and I only had £5 on me. I had never actually heard the track before (although I had heard a friend, Mike mention it in the past) so I put it back on the shelf and left. The next time I saw Mike I told him about it, he gasped, his face dropped, ‘You’re gonna be gutted when you hear this’ he said and turned on his computer, brought up YouTube and played me the track. He was right. I was gutted. Shortly after it had finished, we both put our jackets on, ran to the bus-stop, headed back to the shop to find that it had gone. The next couple of weeks were spent frantically searching the Northern Soul sections of various record shops in the hope of finding another copy. Eventually, a routine check on eBay managed to produce the goods and I scored a copy from Holland for just £6 and happy times were restored!
This for me is what vinyl is all about. I probably could have just gone on iTunes and downloaded the track for 79p, but where would the fun have been in that? There is no chase with a click on iTunes and no great feeling about ownership of an MP3 either. Trying to find that elusive copy that only a few people own and everybody wants is real. Vinyl epitomises this elusive side of the game and that is why for me, it is so important to keep it alive.” —Joei | The Supernovas
It was a little quiet around here yesterday, hm? Diametrically opposed to how things should be, there was a lot of stuff happening in the background yesterday as opposed to right here, where it counts. Let's say for now big things are afoot here at TVD and you'll all be in the know soon enough. 'Nuff said, as Stan 'The Man' says.
I had an interesting question yesterday though in regard to the 'Box' feature that I think merits a response. Said questioner wondered, if TVD exists to underscore the survival of the brick and mortar record stores, what the hell am I doing filling up the aforementioned box with internet, ebay purchases? And that's a fair point, methinks.
My response is that the mom and pop shops are supplementing their revenue via ebay. In fact, DC's own Crooked Beat and Som Records both have ebay stores that I suggest you utilize.
See, for what it's worth, we embrace technology here, despite the preference for some old-timey format. Ipods are great when you're walking to work and Kindles are just fine for travel or downsizing that taxed bookshelf, but I don't believe either contraption should or will replace outright the 'prehistoric' model. But I'm an optimist.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand—this one arrived in the mail just yesterday:
About a year ago I purchased that DJ crate up there in the graphic which I’ve taken to calling ‘The Box.” It’s not that I DJ often either, but when I’ve been invited to do so, the box holds just enough LPs to make a night of it.
Dutifully, I’d pack my LPs into the thing for the night and afterward, usually the following morning over coffee or copious amounts of water, would take the time to refile the previous night’s records back on the shelves in their rightful, alphabetical, in order by sequential date of release—spot.
And then it’d sit empty.
Now, I got this “problem” you see, and it has zero to do with a lil’ blue pill, thank you.
I’m a chronic ebayer. It’s what I do. Type in a few well honed key words, and I’m off to the races. Then typically afterward, Paypal.
My new thing, my new fix, is buying sealed LPs of records that have etched themselves indelibly into my fiber. I mean, not the best records ever by traditional standards or something of the sort—just mint, pristine, sealed versions of records I’ve inhabited for eons.
I'll tell you where it started—about 2 months ago, armed with a fine merlot and a high speed DSL connection, I scored the complete set of Beatles LPs—the UK versions—sealed, mint...the first of the set all in Mono. My wallet sobbed, I was over the moon—and boom, the entire Beatles LP career catalog (more or less) landed on my doorstep.
Oddly though, these were sore thumbs...where should I put them? I mean, I HAVE this set in multiple incarnations, just not ...sealed.
“The Box.”
The box became the perfect location for these gems and the ebay gems keep a-coming. I thought I’d chronicle this week a few of the sealed records that are now cramming that once empty box and who knows – as the box gets er, ...filled...we’ve got a bit of a recurring column here at TVD. (Aw, hey – it’s content – ok?)
I was reminded just how great a live band The Fleshtones are during their all too brief set at the 9:30 Club's 30th Anniversary Concert last July, and this week America’s most-revered garage band return to the very same venue this Saturday night—and we've got a pair of tickets to giveaway to one of you to check out the NYC legends on us.
“It's unabashed party rock 'n' roll, expertly composed and executed; in a perfect world, ‘Jet Set Fleshtones’ would be on every car radio all summer long.” —Variety
“The Fleshtones have been throwing a rock 'n' roll party for the past 30 years, and amazingly they show no signs of slowing down. Take a Good Look ... comes well-stocked with their patented blend of '60s-style garage rock and frat-house R&B.” —Performing Songwriter
Let us know why you should be chosen for the pair of tickets to see The Fleshtones in the comments to this post and the most convincing of the bunch will take home the tickets.
You need to act fast though—we need to close this one out tomorrow, Thursday (10/7) at noon—and remember to leave us a contact email address with your entry.
Remember, we've teamed up with ReadysetDC for all of our ticket giveaways so you can enter to win either here at TVD or at ReadysetDC.
International time zones and global touring schedules being what they are, we received Ken's final Posies TVD takeover post well into our own Friday night happy hour. Thus, a spillover day.
Now, if you recall from Friday, Jon was waltzing with The Smiths' 'Hatful of Hollow'...
My finishing up. Being at the midway point between Seattle and Vancouver, we kind of got the best of both worlds, and of course we were just out of range of a lot of the bandwidth too. However, we could easily get CBC radio and pick up a show called Brave New Wave, which would play the latest stuff from Britain, basically giving us a time machine view of the future of music, which was solace indeed for us living in the land of Winger.
One weekend I missed the show, but a guy I played in a band with at the time had taped selections off the radio and played a moody, but oddly catchy and uptempo number called "What Difference Does It Make". There was something almost goth about the guy crooning away over a riff that was modern sounding, but also garagey, almost something you'd hear on a Yardbirds album or something. We were sold, and learned the song and started covering it right away. Well lo and behold if it wasn't too much later that Jon had the band's album...the first Smiths album never made an appearance in Bellingham but 'Hatful of Hollow' sure did, which was an epic collection of Peel Sessions, singles, etc...pretty impressive for a band that hardly been around more than a couple of years. As it was the only copy this town would see for some years, yes, I Coveted my Neighbor's Vinyl, but in the world of record owning and swapping, to covet is a virtue, far from a sin.
Now for some reason, tho Jon & I were mates and spent every afternoon together making music, we never borrowed each other's records. Kind of an honor amongst musicians kind of thing...one fuckup could throw the whole friendship into disarray. So, I we'd listen to the Smiths at Jon's place...and I honestly thought that it would be more likely for me to find dinosaur feathers than ever get my hands on a copy.
That is, til Jon, in a compulsive act of ...who knows, he liked to buy and sell things, so...that was a greater pleasure than having things. Not for me! I snatched that sucker up straight away, and backed it up on cassette. Yesss! I think I ended up with his Scritt Poitti record too, which he paid for from his Smiths earnings.
It's our weekly Twitter #MusicMonday recap of the tracks from last week that the folks in the press offices and PR firms want you to be hearing. We post—you decide.
I’m back from New York City and have fallen safely into the arms of the canyon. This week has been warm to say the least. These last few hot breezy days reminded me it has been a long while since I created a show with a lover’s muse.
I started digging through “my crates" thinking about the notion of keeping my love ones close. That Vanilla Fudge cover of “Keep Me Hanging On” came to mind and I started to explore the concept of “holding on.” I quickly discarded “the fudge” and replace it with the more obscure “Something’s Gotten Hold Of My Heart” from Terry Reid.
In the end, rock songs were not what I want to hold onto for this week’s Idelic Hour. Instead my focus was on the sexy sounds of South America mixed with a few new releases and of course a classic or two.
Former Elefant singer, Diego Garcia’s sexy love ballad “Stay” seemed to balance Bowie’s Station to Station, “Wild as the Wind.” I dropped new songs from Deerhunter and Blonde Redhead into the mix with old favs like NicolaiDunger and Fiona Apple.
It's our last day with The Posies and both Jon and Ken have a few parting shots. Jon's up first...
Follow the Hatful of Hollow Growing up in the small town of Bellingham, Washington during our teens in certainly had its merits – decent schools, relatively safe streets, and at least one avenue downtown all the ‘restless youth’ like ourselves could populate/troll after school everyday. Downside? Regardless of whatever potential cultural influx we might have received as a result of our proximity to Seattle and Vancouver B. C. (smack dab between the two essentially), Bellingham was still….a small town. If memory serves, even basic TV cable was threadbare and MTV wasn’t an option unless you had a satellite hookup of some kind. For me I was forced to rely on late night television on weekends for my fix of rock videos and exposure to new sounds/images. I loved staying up late and became kind of addicted to a show called “Night Flight”, a three or four hour program starting at midnight, and I wouldn’t miss it if I could.
Of the many memories I have of seeing/hearing something for the first time, few are as strong as the moment a video featuring washed-out images of smokestacks and industrial waste being released into the air appeared on the family cathode box late one Saturday night. I was completely hypnotized by the images and the music was both otherworldly and propulsive. A deep voice sang the words “I am the son….and the heir…. of a shyness that is criminally vulgar” and I was hooked. This was my introduction to “How Soon is Now?” by The Smiths.
I can’t remember if I told Ken about seeing this video or if he'd seen it as well and we were both excited by it, but I do remember that I got to Cellophane Square (our favorite used record store) first and managed to get a copy of The Smiths’ Hatful of Hollow before he did and the only copy the store had as well. Luck of the draw…
I loved the record and was thrilled to at least feel like I was somewhat ahead of the curve in possessing it, maybe even took a little pleasure in my buddy Ken’s jealousy –haha– but was also afflicted with an almost OCD-like need to keep selling and exchanging my record collection. Don’t ask me why – I still haven’t figured that one out myself. Regardless, a scant two weeks after my proud purchase, with Ken along for the afternoon I believe, I found myself back at Cellophane Square exchanging The Smith record for something else - maybe even a Scritti Politti record. Go figure.
Le Noise Film is a 38-minute black and white film of eight live-in-studio performances of every song on Neil Young’s brand-new album Le Noise.
In addition to the performances, there is also a personal introduction by Young himself, along with behind-the-scenes clips from album producer, Daniel Lanois, and more. The performances, shot by filmmaker Adam CK Vollick, feature Young on acoustic and electric guitars at Lanois’ home studio in Silverlake, CA, where Young and Lanois recorded Le Noise.
For close to a year now we've been privileged to present the fruits of the labor of Ardent Studios—specifically The Ardent Sessions—in this spot each Friday morning. These efforts howeveraren't self-supporting and assistance is needed to keep these sounds alive—which is why we're rerunning this post from last Friday. Ardent Studios founder, John Fry fills us in:
Rachel Hurley and I decided to kick off The Ardent Sessions on BreakThruRadio.com 3 years ago this December. The idea was to give up-and-coming bands some internet radio exposure, and to give them an introduction to the Memphis music tradition and current scene by performing in front of a small live audience in one of our studios.
When possible, I enjoy combining that experience with a personal tour of the Stax Museum of American Soul Music, as Stax is such a huge part of Ardent's early history. It's always fun for me to meet these young artists, and I am always amazed at how much they know about what all of us were doing in Memphis almost 50 years ago, not to mention how much they seem to enjoy some of that music.
Ardent Sessions, and its companion show, Ardent Presents (singer/songwriter acoustic) is now available on Ardentsessions.com in addition to BreakThruRadio.com.
Although this may seem like a new idea, it really goes back to the early 70s at Ardent. That's when we had a pair of 15kHz equalized telephone lines to WMC-FM100, and we would originate live broadcasts from our Studio A with artists like Lynard Skynard, Pure Prairie League, Martin Mull, Big Star, Cargoe, The Groundhogs, Stories, Hookfoot, Elton John’srecording band on Tumbleweed Connection,Ry Cooder with JLD,Wishbone Ash, Nazareth, and Charlie Daniels.
Yes, I do mean live - no delay, no opportunity to bleep or re-mix - no need to, really.
We started The Ardent Sessions because we thought it would be helpful to young musicians, and we have managed to keep it totally free of cost to the artists.
However, in the current economic conditions, this is becoming harder to do. At the moment we have no offsetting advertising income from the shows, so we thought we might ask fans to help us keep this a free service by donating to our Kickstarter Campaign. Let us know what you think. —John Fry, 9/22/2010
Last month we premiered the brand new single "Velcro Shoes" from Pete Yorn off his new self-titled album produced by Frank Black. Well, the Vagrant release is now available in your local record stores and on iTunesas of this past Tuesday—so this month we have a pair of tickets to award one of you for Pete's show at the Black Cat this coming Wednesday night, 10/6.
Asked about working with Pete, Mr. Black noted, "We headed down a path of realization I stripped Pete down a whole bunch. We battled in the best sort of way. I tried to get the session into a fearless and raw place, and to his artistic credit Pete took his songwriting to a fearless and raw place. This listener will find his or herself sitting right next to Pete on the couch. And the record totally rocks out."
Let us know why you should be chosen for the pair of tickets to see Pete in the comments to this post and the most convincing of the bunch will take home the tickets.
You need to act fast though—we need to close this one out tomorrow, Friday (10/1) by 5PM—and remember to leave us a contact email address with your entry. I can't tell you how many "winning" entries we get with no way of letting that person know. So—now you know—go!
It's The Posies' TVD Takeover Day #4 - and Jon's back with more:
Why Audiophiles Don’t Like Rod Stewart Or: “How My Father Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Mod” I don’t want to come across as overly sentimental, but I’ve always considered myself lucky to grow up in a musical household. At the age of three I decided I wanted to play the drums and my parents actually bought them for me thus eventually having to tolerate what I can only imagine were brain salad days of (no pun intended) relative torture as our house was filled with my disruptive (yet metronomically correct I am told) drum fills. Yes, mine were the supportive kind of caretakers, so committed to the progressive growth of the child that when I eagerly pointed to the shinny mini drum set I wanted at the local toy store, they refused and said that no son of theirs was going to have a half-assed approximation of my heart’s desire. NO, DAMMIT - they were going to buy me a real drum set, not (again no pun intended) beat around the bush with some cheap infantile facsimile. And you know what? They did…
I became the only three-year old that I knew of on my block with a real certifiable Rogers drum set. Granted - a small, second-hand three-piece with a pot lid the weight of a shot put for one of the cymbals, but a bona fide Rogers nonetheless. Even at the age of three HELL YES was all I could think of in my formative little head. I was blessed.
Many instruments followed, perhaps more civilized, certainly less house-rattling: violin from age four to eight and then to my real love, guitar, at the age of nine. I’ll have to say that at every step of the way, I was encouraged to embrace quality in music and in whatever musical ‘delivery device’ was put into my hands. My father in particular was a real inspiration, an excellent guitarist in his own right and a faithful supplier of resources and knowledge. It was he who eventually put a small but powerful recording studio in the rec room of the house I spent my teenage years in, years before home recording became easy and common, the house that The Posies made our first record in engineered by myself after a few years of learning the sonic ropes the old fashioned way: a little something called the “hand-me-down method.”
If you haven’t suspected it by now, my father is indeed the audiophile I’ve been slowly steering this tale of yesteryear towards. He was the man of a thousand records, the man with the primo Techniques turntable suspended from the ceiling on a platform so none of the vibrations from the family feet would disturb our listening experience. I loved his collection of music and garnered much in the way of eventual inspiration for my own music, but I’d be lying if his high standards weren’t a bit of a double edge sword. Like, say, when I’d haul one of his prize records into my bedroom to play on the little kiddie stereo and he’d come in and let me know in no uncertain terms that I was not to play his records on my stereo as the inferior needle would ruin the grooves. Oh the irony now - it makes sense to me these days….in fact I pretty much feel the same way about my records as he did. But back in the day it just didn’t compute.
Speaking of things not computing, during grade three, I came home from school one day and announced to my father that “Do You Think I’m Sexy” by Rod Stewart was my favorite song and I simply had to have my own copy of it NOW. I can honestly say I don’t think there’s ever been another point in history I can recall seeing such a look of puzzled terror from the normally tolerant elder Auer. What my father quickly ascertained was that a) The real reason I had to have the desired vinyl was because of a girl in my class I was completely crushed out on and b) I had never heard the song before in my life. Long story short, instead of buying me the record (he being the man of high standards), he opted for a more educational solution and drove me with haste to our favorite local pizza parlor. There, over Canadian bacon and pineapple, my father begrudgingly played “Do You Think I’m Sexy” on the jukebox, cringing as we sat there, followed by a table discussion of the song, the lyrics, and my take on the whole confounding situation.
Now, of course, I realize he was just trying to save me from the evils of Disco-era Rod Stewart, but at the time all I gave a toss about was that the girl I was sure I would love forever at the age of eight would see me walk down the hall with a copy of ex-“Rod the Mod”s’ latest under my arm and feel the same way I felt about her unequivocally. I think my father finally figured it out, that I was hell bent on aiming to impress, that it was a harmless detour on the rites road to passage. Sex or Disco had nothing to do with it – although eventually I came to appreciate both. At the time in question I could have cared less. It was a terminal case of playground love, pure and simple.
Our love runneth over for Rick Taylor and Brandon Grover's post-punk DJ night, We Fought The Big One that hits Marx Cafe the first Friday night of each month. Tomorrow night Rick and Brandon will be joined by a friend of this blog, Josh Harkavy of Red Onion Records. Rick's got the details:
About this whole Year Zero thingy…
Was 1977 really the start of a new musical movement that led to everything we know today as modern alternative/independent music? Certainly, one could argue that the shockwaves brought about by The Sex Pistols marked the single biggest tectonic shift in music since Elvis. It wasn’t just punk or post-punk that happened either; it was something broader—a new way of thinking about how to make music. No longer did one have to be a skilled musician to get signed and put a record out. The record making process itself was also demystified—not only could anyone play the guitar, anyone could start their own label and find cheap equipment to record with. As the legendary and era-defining DIY band Desperate Bicycles boldy proclaimed in 1977: “It was easy. It was cheap. Go and do it.” And the reality is that just about every disaffected British kid with an arty inclination did.
But, but, but…I have to take issue with this strict interpretation of 1977-as-Year Zero. The notion that everything before that most critical of musical years can be dismissed as inconsequential, middle-of-the-road, AOR dross doesn’t hold up to close scrutiny. Firstly and most obviously, you had seminal bands such as Velvet Underground, The Stooges, Roxy Music and New York Dolls clearly pointing the way forward. Another key band that existed prior to 1977 was The Modern Lovers. Now, a lot of times you’ll see these bands lumped under the “proto-punk” category…the implication being that they not only existed prior to the “proper” punk era, but that their music was a “not-quite-there-yet” embryonic version of the more fully developed sounds that would come later.
This is not the case with The Modern Lovers 1972 demo of “She Cracked.” This particular recording of the song (an earlier, more raw and tension-filled, dare I say it—superior version than what would eventually appear on the band’s lone self-titled compendium-as-album) is a note perfect realization of all the power and possibility the post-punk movement would come to offer. Listen to that guitar—those jagged edges stab like the kind of vicious wooden splinters that leave blood on your fingers. And Jonathan Richman’s non-chalant, too-cool-to-be-bothered vocals would be the template, whether intentional or not, for countless indie rock bands to come whose members hadn’t even been born yet. Top it all off with an irresistible earworm of a hook, some wonderful WTF? sound experiments during the middle 8 section and the band’s undeniable conviction, and you have a 24 karat slice of post-punk perfection…only, several years before post-punk happened---and yes, still a few years before Johnny Rotten called the Queen of England a fascist. It’s no wonder the track has aged so gracefully.
There’s actually a broader point that I’d like to make outside of just questioning the soundness of the Year Zero philosophy. And that is simply this: there are oodles of amazing records out there that either fell through the cracks or have been unjustly forgotten about that are just waiting to be discovered or re-discovered by hungry music fans with a curious ear. I’m inclined to think a lot of Vinyl District readers agree with me, based on the continued success of the DC Record Fair, which just marked another triumph this past weekend at the U Street Music Hall.
I also want you to be aware, if you weren’t already, that our nation’s capitol has a monthly dj night dedicated to celebrating these inspired post-punk sounds of the past: We Fought the Big One. As one of the djs, I can tell you the idea for the night was to host a music listening party heavily anchored around the sounds of the late 70s/early 80s post-punk scene: bands such as Gang of Four, Wire, Joy Division and PIL, along with contemporary DIY heroes (think Deerhunter, Wild Nothing, Vivian Girls) and loads of obscure gems too.
This Friday night, We Fought the Big One will be featuring a long-time friend of the Vinyl District, Josh Harkavy, owner of Red Onion Records and Books, one of DC’s best places to shop for vinyl. Josh has also been instrumental in making the DC Record Fair the success it continues to be. So come by the Marx this Friday night, enjoy some tasty Belgian beers, meet other music fans and revel in the world of post-punk weirdness and DIY brilliance!
More info: Fri. Oct. 1 WE FOUGHT THE BIG ONE w/ guest dj Josh Harkavy @ MARX CAFÉ 3203 Mt. Pleasant St. NW Washington DC 20010 10pm - 3am NO COVER 21+ www.myspace.com/wefoughtthebigone Facebook info: http://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=155517691135955&index=1 (RSVP if you can!) http://redonionrecordsandbooks.com/default.aspx
It's week #3 our semi-new Thursday fix, culled from the rare and (ultra) obscure crates of 80’s vinyl, curated by our pal Gil:
DIAL M – S/T LP This week I dabble into the genre of synth pop. It is an off shoot of new wave in which the synthesizer or keyboard plays a much more dominant role in the overall song production. Synth pop was very popular in the early to mid 80’s alternative music scenes and has recently experienced a resurgence in the late 2000s. There are a variety of modern bands that have synth pop influences.
Dial M was a Los Angeles, CA based synth pop duo consisting of Mike Kapitan (synthesizers, drums, lead vocals) and Mark M. (electric guitars, backing vocals). The band was formed in 1982 and remained active until 1984. Upon the band’s demise, Mike Kapitan would go on to work with Thomas Dolby and his backing band, The Lost Toy People. Dial M produced two records during their time together. Their lone full length effort, which I am featuring here is a self titled effort and was released by independent Hollywood label D & D Records.
The album consists of ten songs that are chock full of melancholic synth pop vibes. Although this duo didn’t receive the popularity that there more commercial peers were afforded back in the day, they did garner limited radio air play on the venerable alternative radio station KROQ and even produced a video for their main single – Modern Day Love. The video has been embedded below for your viewing enjoyment. It’s a highly recommended, not so mainstream 80’s album for this once again popular genre of music.
As I mentioned on Monday, we’re delighted to have The Posieshere with us all week blogging away mercilessly—especially since this week is the release week for the eagerly anticipated new LP,BLOOD/CANDY.(Officially on store shelves September 28th.)
Those of you who follow us with rapt attention know that for every ‘takeover’ week here at TVD, we’ve got a contest running in tandem – and this week’s can't be any more obvious.
We’ve got two copies of the aforementioned BLOOD/CANDY on vinyl to ship out to two winners in exchange for your comment to this post. Pen your Posies-related missive to us and the band in the aptly named Comments Box and the two that strike the perfect chord will each have the new LP shipped off to him or her.
We’ll choose both winners this coming Friday (10/1) and remember to leave us a contact email address, ok?
I'm rarely afforded the opportunity to see live music these days. It simply ain't happening—despite the number of tickets we give away to shows here at TVD, which—all blessing and a curse-like—keeps me most evenings glued to the Mac. Right, right - there are exceptions but normally the concerns are for your evening plans.
But I did have the opportunity to catch Pittsburgh, PA's Mariage Blanc last summer on a four-way bill we promoted that week and with having heard just one track, the joyous 'Whatever You Say I Am,' (very Pernice Brothers) I was taken with the band immediately, chatted them up, told 'em they needed to get back on the blog—and that moment's here in the form of a pair of tickets to Friday's show at Velvet Lounge with Foreign Press and Janel and Anthony.
You've got 48 hours to win this pair by telling us in the comments to this post, what band you saw live for the very first time that simply blew you away. Should be easy, right?
We'll choose our winner at noon on Friday, 10/1 and remember to leave us a contact email address with your insightful entry.
Remember, we've teamed up with ReadysetDC for all of our ticket giveaways so you can enter to win either here at TVD or at ReadysetDC.
It's Day #3 of The Posies' Vinyl District Takeover and Jon Auer checks in from Spain:
Happy Birthday To Me, Spanish Style Ok…(deep breath)
Right from the start I’ll have to admit his isn’t going to be what I intended to submit for my first entry to The Vinyl District. Indeed, I’ll confess to loftier goals and more complex aspirations, that I was psyched to be asked to contribute to TVD this week…really. And then…. well….Como se dice? Let’s put it this way: Life may indeed be what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans but you’d think I might’ve respected the good ole’ laws of physics a bit more in this particular case. Read: time travel doesn’t exist as far as my currently hung-over brain is aware, though I do believe I tried to go back in time in my dreams last night and compose a blog entry “for the ages”, a real stunner …something even Anthony Bourdain would be jealous of. Naturally, in my alpha state, I’d just about completed my blogosphere “masterpiece” when the wake up call from the extremely grumpy Spaniard working the front desk came, just in time to watch my dream dissolve. Apparently he didn’t like having to get out of bed at sunrise any more than I did. Thanks, hombre…
But I digress. Let’s just say three parts travel from the US to Spain plus three parts first show of The Posies’ European tour last night divided by six parts procrastination multiplied by my birthday equals yours truly furiously typing in a hotel room in Murcia scant hours before my deadline, thanking heavens for time zones. So, in lieu of a more fruitful course of action, to paraphrase Milli Vanilli, I’m going to cut myself a little slack on my special day and “Blame It On The Spain.”
How lucky is it for me that the Spanish just happen love vinyl? Very. Adding it up, I’ve averaged at least two visits a year to this impassioned land since 1993 and almost everywhere you can think of going you’re bound to find amazing rock and roll bars playing a majority of vinyl from dusk until dawn and in most cases even dawn the next day. Some of the best times I’ve had here have been taking turns with DJs playing great music until no one in the room can lift a glass, keep an eye open, or hear anymore….even on a Sunday, like at a place in Yecla I played solo in 1999 called The Happy House and ESPECIALLY on a Monday like at the superlative bar Louie Louie in Madrid, a place everyone who loves rock and roll should experience at least twice. I still have a stack of 45s, including the original “Black is Black” by Los Bravos, given to me there one epic evening by the legendary Spanish musician/promoter Kike Turmix, a man who was larger than life in many ways. That’s the kind of thing that happened at Louie Louie and I feel fortunate to have shared those moments with him.
Back to the moment at hand, I suppose I’m also lucky I’m not the only person in Spain right now who didn’t deliver what they’d intended. My birthday came at the stroke of midnight during our sold out show at Murcia’s own Sala Stereo last night and before the clock chimed twelve, September 28th was the worldwide release day of BLOOD/CANDY, the new Posies album, a record we just happened to make a large portion of in Spain earlier this year. The show was amazing but regrettably, even though much planning had gone into the imminent delivery of our latest on both CD and vinyl, the proverbial snafu occurred and a few hundred Spanish Posies fan weren’t able to buy our new record from us on the day of its release. Ouch. But hey – at least they wanted to, right?
Last April, in our run-up to Record Store Day, we spent several weeks with several record labels. One was Ardent Records, the offshoot label from our friends at Ardent Studios. Sadly, the timing was less than fortunate. Just a few weeks prior we lost Alex Chilton and with some last minute switches, we were able to include some well-penned tributes to the late Big Star singer who recorded those timeless, transcendent LPs within Ardent's walls.
We thought we'd revisit Ken's thoughts on Alex this morning in tandem with The Posies Vinyl District takeover.
When I was just starting out in my band The Posies, the first band I had that made records and toured, etcetera, back in 1988, we were introduced to the music of Big Star. People heard our early music and assumed, correctly, that we'd find the pure harmonies, heartbreaking sentiment, and mix of rock power and Byrds-like jangling bliss a great inspiration and sympathetic vibration to our own music. It was something of a revelation, one that has probably confounded thousands of listeners when they discover these records for the first time, "How could this band not have been hugely popular?”
And that, my friends, is where the dichotomy began.
Before Big Star, if the critics loved it, if it was quality, word got around, and artists who were influential artistically, like The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, the fucking Beatles, for fuck's sake, sold millions. There was crap too, also selling millions. The only band that didn't sell was The Shaggs.
Big Star was not part of a rebellion, like the punks would be soon after. They were a hot band in Memphis, with great songs, and a huge music machine (CBS) behind them. And they failed, spectacularly. It was a tree falling in the woods though - nobody knew the band, so no one knew what they were missing. But so began the idea that there were two worlds in music - the crapmosphere of the latest pop idols, and the quality control layer that was just for those in the know. Suddenly, the idea prevailed that the better a band was - the less likely it was to sell. And in fact, the ability to turn away listeners was a sign of quality. In many ways I agree. In many ways, Big Star has nothing to do with this argument.
I digress. Big Star became heroes because they satisfied every test for quality you could apply, but also they were the ultimate underdogs, a symbol of the unjust whims of popular taste. Something was wrong with the system and here was the proof. The star factory couldn't even makes stars out of Big Star.
I knew Alex first through this context and through his music. We were fans - fans enough to consider taking our first big budget from Geffen Records and spending it at Ardent Studios in Memphis where all of Big Star's albums (and albums we loved by the Replacements, REM, Led Zep, ZZ Top) were made. We eventually decided to stay in Seattle, but via his position as the company's A&R/PR/business gettin' guy, Big Star's Jody Stephens became a fan, a friend, and a friendly familiar face when we were at events like CMJ, South by Southwest, etc. When some college kids from Missouri threw the dice and had the boldness to inquire if Big Star would reunite for their spring concert...and Alex said yes, Jody called us to fill in the missing posts formerly held by the late Chris Bell and the retired-from-music Andy Hummel. Our first rehearsal in Seattle was where we met Alex for the first time. At first a bit of a cipher, or perhaps a sphinx, he kept his words spare. But even in those first rehearsal days we were talking about Dostoevsky... and it seemed Alex wasn't like other musicians we had played with - more interested in their bongs or their thinly-supported intellectual aspirations, if not practices. Alex was disciplined, and curious, a formidable combo.
But Alex was more than a great intellect (he was widely read, widely interested, willing and able to discuss at length virtually any subject except Big Star). He was charming, challenging, spontaneous and generous. He proposed after a short time of Jon & me playing with Big Star that our contributions merited equal pay. He drove me around Memphis pointing out the housing project where Elvis had lived at one point. We played tennis and had dinners together in his frequent visits to Paris. He introduced me to the music of Faron Young, Rodd Keith, and more. Though he had a reputation for being difficult, the Alex that I have tour managed for the last decade has been the Alex of, “Yeah, cool...whatever. No problem.”
He didn't do interviews. He didn't have email. You had to call him to ask him a question. Isn't that more sociable? I think he thought so. And it is for that sociability, as well as that integrity, that stand out among the many things I will miss about Alex.
-image017.gif)
_t607.gif)
_t607.gif)
