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
Rare it is indeed when the TVD readership writes to us here directly to say they've enjoyed a posted feature or theme--but it seems we hit upon something with our recent 'Laugh Tracks' series if the response at TVD HQ is to be any indication. So, we're digging into our bag of wax once more this week to breathe life into the cubicle (or office) with a dose of classic levity. And they don't come more classic or uh, levitated:
"Producers Jerry Kasenetz and Jeff Katz have claimed credit for coining the term "bubblegum music", saying that when they discussed their target audience, they decided it was "teenagers, the young kids. And at the time we used to be chewing bubblegum and my partner and I used to look at it and laugh and say, 'Ah, this is like bubblegum music'." The term was seized upon by Buddah Records label executive Neil Bogart. Music writer and bubblegum historian Bill Pitzonka confirmed the claim, telling Goldmine magazine: "That's when bubblegum crystallized into an actual camp. Kasenetz and Katz really crystallized it when they came up with the term themselves and that nice little analogy. And Neil Bogart, being the marketing person he was, just crammed it down the throats of people. That's really the point at which bubblegum took off.""
The Vinyl Giveaway Madness continues for another week here at TVD with two Dan Auerbach related releases -- The Black Keys "Attack & Release" and Dan's new solo LP, "Keep It Hid."
And if that's not enough to get you opining in the comments, our good friends at Crooked Beat Records have a pair of tickets to give away to see Dan Auerbach at the 9:30 Club on Saturday, February 28th! Get down to the store, tell 'em The Vinyl District sent ya, and enter your name into the giveaway. A winner for the tickets will be drawn in-store on 2/26 for Dan's show at the 9:30 on 2/28.
Meanwhile, the process is the same to get your hands on the vinyl: grab our attention in the comments WITH your email address (important!) so we can contact you about your triumphant win. (Or, you can comment and forward your email address in an email to us. We're not picky.) And remember - each entry into our vinyl contest is an automatic entry to win the Stanton T.90 USB turntable on Record Store Day 2009!
Just make it funny. Or make it smart. About record stores. Or Record Store Day. Or vinyl. About us or you. Or something else all together. Just make it before next Monday (2/23) when we'll choose our winner. (AND launch giveaway #5...)
My friend DJ Busca is a bike courier by day and a spinner of records by night. Those two things, coupled with the fact that he's dating a dear dear friend of mine, make him awesome. I asked him to share with TVD readers what makes vinyl so special to him, and he replied that it's all about the 45s:
"Few other man-made objects package Joy quite like the 45 rpm record. Lightweight, portable, and crucially free of moving parts, the 45 delivers a universe of sound in just 6 7/8 inches of pressed vinyl. The labels are the icing on the cake; even the boring ones manage to satisfy a basic sense of aesthetics. Many genres of music have been released on 45 but reggae and funk are responsible for many of the format's classics. I would add salsa to the list to complete my own personal trilogy, although those specimens are considerably rarer.
Many, many tunes have been cut on the Stalag riddim but few I've heard strip it down as raw as General Echo's "Arleen." The drum and bass hit the listener right where it counts. Say what you will about the sax-lead subgenre of funk but the drum break at the beginning of Monk Higgin's "Gotta Be Funky" is pretty damn, well, funky. Although the body of their work is just as much rock as funk, on "The Message" Cymande demonstrates their singular touch, warm vibes and relentless grooviness. There's nothing like a rough and ready 70s salsa cut and "El Yerbero Del Barrio" by Robert y Su Nuevo Montuno is a great example. The lyrics probably mean exactly what they say but I'd like to think there's a double meaning there."
You can catch DJ Busca TONIGHT at the Reef's Lush Lounge in Adam's Morgan. I know I'll be there enjoying their excellent beer selection and trying to shake this week off while listening to the funky yet comforting sounds of DJ Busca. If you can't wait till then, he's giving you a taste via the songs he's described above to get you through your Thursday.
One gloriously sunny and warm June Saturday morning, I took my bike out of the garage and peddled over to my school at the time, Shark River Hills Elementary, where there was a little flea market of sorts being held. With a few coins in my pocket, I purchased two coverless Partridge Family comic books, rode down Elizabeth Terrace to my home, and read both under the shade of a tree on my front lawn.
Around me bees swirled. Lawns were being mowed. Flowers planted. Cars washed. Dogs walked. Mothers made lunches. Fathers tinkered in garages. And I confess without any hint of irony--I never felt more at peace.
Fresh off the road supporting The Who, you'd think that Winnipeg's Inward Eye, who cite influences as varied as The Kinks, The Jam, Smokey Robinson, and Holland-Dozier-Holland, might have a thing or two to say regarding vinyl records. And you'd be right.
We caught up with the trio's bassist and vocalist Dave Erickson, with a flashback or five:
"My earliest memory of vinyl records was the smell. Opening my dad's wooden drawer filled with old relics, I remember this earthy organic smell filling the air, much like the sound. Flipping through the strange looking artwork wondering what they all sounded like is how I first fell in love with music.
I remember hearing vinyl for the first time and loving the warmth of the bass and how everything seemed to meld into one big sound, like it was pulsing together, with a real heart and soul. You really can't achieve that with a CD or iPod. Some may say that a CD has a "truer" sound because it has a greater bandwidth, but there is something about putting on an old record that seems to suspends reality for moment without the sterile pro-tooled sound."
(...I'd like to see the faces of those of you who're visiting TVD for the first time right about now.)
That's correct--your eyes aren't playing tricks on you--it's an Osmond Brothers record cover! We're doing an experiment to see if Top 40 radio from the classic Tiger Beat era was worth it's salt! ...And we don't know why...!
Now, where was I?? Ahem. ...2, 3, 4... "Aaand they called it/puppy love..."
I've gone on and on in this spot in regard to my eye-gouging disdain for contemporary 'popular' music, so I won't repeat myself again. But I've often felt that the young impressionals out there are currently getting the shaft--to the point where I'm almost beginning sentences with the, "In myyy day..." with that down the nose sneer n' all.
But I do tend to believe that Top 40 radio and singles and pop stardom was far better in the early, classic Tiger Beat era.
Or was it?
Have I glamorized my own brand of heady youth that I'm just not seeing clearly? I mean, I wasn't READING Tiger Beat, but I can point to a particular radio-friendly era with fondness that Tiger Beat covered to a fault. (And it's not a fault that the pre-teen female audience fretted over, I'm sure.)
So, for the coming days TVD'll be asking the question out loud: Was Top 40 radio and singles and pop stardom far better in that Tiger Beat era?
Actually, I'm not sure myself but we'll find out together as we relisten (or listen anew) to some of this stuff.
A confession right up front however, if it wasn't for Sweet's 'Fox On The Run' and the Bay City Rollers' 'Saturday Night' you'd all be staring at a blank screen right about now...
Much like love itself, all one need do is search for the term among all the others and pull out your favorites. Thusly, your Valentine's Weekend Ten. X!
Another week, another great TVD vinyl giveaway! This week: the all hip-hop edition! (Covering all the bases here on the blog, huh?) Up for grabs this week is the new Murs LP, 'Murs for President' and 'Notorious', the Biggie Smalls movie soundtrack.
You know the drill; grab our attention in the comments WITH your email address (important!) so we can contact you about your triumphant win. (Or, you can comment and forward your email address in an email to us. We're not picky.) And remember - each entry into our vinyl contest is an automatic entry to win the Stanton T.90 USB turntable on Record Store Day 2009!
Just make it funny. Or make it smart. About record stores. Or Record Store Day. Or vinyl. About us or you. Or something else all together. Just make it before next Monday (2/16) when we'll choose our winner. (AND launch giveaway #4...)
My first exposure to rap and hip hop came in the form of the music channel The Box, which I don't think exists in the US anymore. The Box gave viewers the ability to dial in and by touch tone phone request what video they wanted to see. I was 9. We had just moved to Alabama after spending 8 years overseas in Europe. My older brother and I would get home from school and watch whatever was on the Rap/Hip Hop channel of the Box. N.W.A. Wu-Tang. West coast rap. East coast rap. Music videos filled with stuff I couldn't dream up. I always thought I'd get in trouble if my mom found out we were watching these music videos. Guns. Alcohol. Drugs. Bikinis. When I was 9 we weren't even allowed to watch the Simpsons or Married With Children (no, seriously, although that rule was later dropped only after being back in the states a few years, and I thank my parents for having such mercy on myself and my siblings.) But I loved it.
To my memory, nobody ever requested De La Soul. Which is a damn shame because that meant I would have to wait until I was in middle school, for my brother to listen to them (and Tribe Called Quest among others), for me to be exposed to their musical goodness. I was late in the game to loving De La Soul (although, considering my age, maybe no so late) so I didn't have any De La on vinyl. Until Sunday that is. At the Record Fair (Did you go? If you didn't you should spend the weekend sober and reading Old Man and the Sea all the way through 20 times in a row in order to properly punish yourself. As if not going and experiencing the greatness of the Fair wasn't punishment enough! zing!) I came across 3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul's first album. I've listened to it maybe 8 times since Sunday. Now you can join me. Enjoy.
U2 was never my band. Like so much other music, they were on the radio in the background, on television, at parties--nearly ubiquitous. You know, just fine. Just there. Stuff for the masses. I'd rather hear something else, etc.
BUT, if there's a time period or a vibe for this week's walk, it's typified by the video for New Year's Day. Not my band, but after all these years--my soundtrack.
(And the rereleases on vinyl sound gorgeous and look even better...I've bought them all. Perhaps there's a U2 switch in the works? Hmm.)
You know how it is with first dates--very often they rely completely on happenstance and timing. There's simply no way around it.
Fortunate we be then, to have Boston, Mass's Aloud right here--in DC...yep...tonight. Now, you do with this info as you will, but we here at TVD think it'd be wise to be front and center at Velvet Lounge later, saaay...about 10PM or so. (And I'd come with flowers. It IS Valentine's Day week after all.) Meanwhile, Henry Beguiristain (vocals/guitars) has a valentine for us:
"It was a few years ago I was reminded how wonderful listening to vinyl can be. I was hanging out with a friend of mine one evening and was amazed that she'd never heard Strawberry Fields Forever on vinyl. I promptly dusted off the record player, placed the Magical Mystery Tour LP onto the turntable, and did my best to carefully place the needle where the track began (or at least my best approximation). Fireworks. Well, maybe fireworks and the musky smell of old record sleeves. Anyway, I was 13 years old all over again, listening to that song for the first time after I'd raided my mom's stash of records one afternoon, poring over non-extant hidden meanings and figuring out WHO exactly buried Paul.
Nostalgia aside, what really pulled me in was simply how great it all sounded. This is how these songs were meant to be heard. Rich, WARM, with a bit of hiss, crackly at times, and not compressed to hell. These are all the qualities that fewer and fewer albums coming out seem to lack—sacrificed on the Altar of Blandness, often mistaken for some vague notion of Loudness. One can go on all day about sound, though, which is ultimately in the ear of the beholder. At the end of the day, I guess the main allure of the LP is that, by its very nature, it DEMANDS to be appreciated. The packaging is too large to ignore. The disc itself is extremely fragile and must always be handled with care. A little after twenty minutes you have to get your ass up off the couch to flip it over. And, unless you're willing to put in the work, there's no shuffle function here; THIS ALBUM WILL BE LISTENED TO. As a result, something happens, something important, that has been seemingly bred out of us in the 21st Century: you stop and smell the roses.
While I'll freely admit that my iPod is my constant companion, there's something to be said for vinyl outlasting audio cassettes, 8-tracks, and—soon enough—CDs. So while I'm not suggesting this magnificent format is going to overtake mp3s in popularity anytime soon, I'd be willing to place my bets that vinyl would make for good cover during a nuclear explosion. At least that's what it says when you play Octopus's Garden in reverse..."
I've said it before in this spot and I'll say it again, memories are affixed to records and unique tracks off those records. Yet, even before I ever owned this LP, 'The Cuttter' was echoing out in the cold, desolate winter streets as I waited for the dog to do his business in the drifting snow.
I wonder if anyone looked out their window and wondered just what the heck that kid's doing out in a blizzard with a radio blasting forth? Something ELSE the ipod has taken away it seems.
Rare it is indeed when the TVD readership writes to us here directly to say they've enjoyed a posted feature or theme--but it seems we hit upon something with our recent 'Laugh Tracks' series if the response at TVD HQ is to be any indication. So, we're digging into our bag of wax once more this week to breathe life into the cubicle (or office) with a dose of classic levity. And they don't come more classic or uh, levitated:
Monty Python - Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (Mp3)
"Producers Jerry Kasenetz and Jeff Katz have claimed credit for coining the term "bubblegum music", saying that when they discussed their target audience, they decided it was "teenagers, the young kids. And at the time we used to be chewing bubblegum and my partner and I used to look at it and laugh and say, 'Ah, this is like bubblegum music'." The term was seized upon by Buddah Records label executive Neil Bogart. Music writer and bubblegum historian Bill Pitzonka confirmed the claim, telling Goldmine magazine: "That's when bubblegum crystallized into an actual camp. Kasenetz and Katz really crystallized it when they came up with the term themselves and that nice little analogy. And Neil Bogart, being the marketing person he was, just crammed it down the throats of people. That's really the point at which bubblegum took off.""
How much sugar can one ingest with one's breakfast--or lunch, or dinner, depending on where you tune in TVD? We shall see...
The Vinyl Giveaway Madness continues for another week here at TVD with two Dan Auerbach related releases -- The Black Keys "Attack & Release" and Dan's new solo LP, "Keep It Hid." 
My friend DJ Busca is a bike courier by day and a spinner of records by night. Those two things, coupled with the fact that he's dating a dear dear friend of mine, make him awesome. I asked him to share with TVD readers what makes vinyl so special to him, and he replied that it's all about the 45s:
One gloriously sunny and warm June Saturday morning, I took my bike out of the garage and peddled over to my school at the time, Shark River Hills Elementary, where there was a little flea market of sorts being held. With a few coins in my pocket, I purchased two coverless Partridge Family comic books, rode down Elizabeth Terrace to my home, and read both under the shade of a tree on my front lawn. 
Fresh off the road supporting The Who, you'd think that Winnipeg's Inward Eye, who cite influences as varied as The Kinks, The Jam, Smokey Robinson, and Holland-Dozier-Holland, might have a thing or two to say regarding vinyl records. And you'd be right.
(...I'd like to see the faces of those of you who're visiting TVD for the first time right about now.) 
...or can they?
Bay City Rollers - I Only Want To Be With You (Mp3)
Much like love itself, all one need do is search for the term among all the others and pull out your favorites. Thusly, your Valentine's Weekend Ten. 
Another week, another great TVD vinyl giveaway! This week: the all hip-hop edition! (Covering all the bases here on the blog, huh?) Up for grabs this week is the new Murs LP, 'Murs for President' and 'Notorious', the Biggie Smalls movie soundtrack.
My first exposure to rap and hip hop came in the form of the music channel The Box, which I don't think exists in the US anymore. The Box gave viewers the ability to dial in and by touch tone phone request what video they wanted to see. I was 9. We had just moved to Alabama after spending 8 years overseas in Europe. My older brother and I would get home from school and watch whatever was on the Rap/Hip Hop channel of the Box. N.W.A. Wu-Tang. West coast rap. East coast rap. Music videos filled with stuff I couldn't dream up. I always thought I'd get in trouble if my mom found out we were watching these music videos. Guns. Alcohol. Drugs. Bikinis. When I was 9 we weren't even allowed to watch the Simpsons or Married With Children (no, seriously, although that rule was later dropped only after being back in the states a few years, and I thank my parents for having such mercy on myself and my siblings.) But I loved it.
U2 was never my band. Like so much other music, they were on the radio in the background, on television, at parties--nearly ubiquitous. You know, just fine. Just there. Stuff for the masses. I'd rather hear something else, etc.
"I didn't do the remix, I did the mix." —Tom Moulton
You know how it is with first dates--very often they rely completely on happenstance and timing. There's simply no way around it. 
...and look, they're even IN the snow themselves. 
