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
“...Of all the stupid things I could have thought / This was the worst / I started to believe / That I was born at seventeen / And all the stupid things / The letters and the broken verse / Stayed hidden at the bottom of the drawer / They'd always been / And now I plough through piles / Of bills, receipts and credit cards / And tickets and the Daily News / And sometimes I just . . .Wanna go back to my home town / Though I know it'll never be the same / Back to my home town / 'Cause it's been so long / And I'm wondering if it's still there...
We think we're pretty smart / Us city slickers get around / And when the going's rough / We kill the pain and relocate / We're never married / Never faithful not to any town / But we never leave the past behind / We just accumulate / So sometimes when the music stops / I seem to hear a distant sound / Of waves and seagulls / Football crowds and church bells / And I . . .Wanna go back to my home town / Though I know it'll never be the same / Back to my home town / 'Cause it's been so long / And I'm wondering if it's still there...
Back to my home town / Though I know it'll never be the same / Back to my home town / 'Cause it's been so long / And I'm wondering if it's still there...”
I could have sworn ol’ Pete was singing this song on his walk this morning. Something about it ‘hitting him on some visceral level’ he mumbled with a leaf hanging off his mouth.
Silver Spring stalwarts The Jet Age have a brand new release in "Love" on the shelves later this month, and leading up to its debut, TVD chatted with Eric Tischler, the band's lead singer, songwriter, and guitarist for some thoughts on inspiration of the vinyl variety—and beyond.
"I don't think I could've made in "Love" without vinyl. A collection of songs that asks you to sit down with the sleeve and pay attention? That's a relic of the vinyl age; could you have such an idea today without vinyl's example?
in "Love" is the story of a man and a woman, each otherwise spoken for (he's married with kids; she's got a long-term boyfriend), how and why they fall in love, and the reactions of (and commentary from) those around them. In other words, it's an examination of love, fidelity, and the value of family and personal happiness, and it takes 10 songs to tell the story so, right there, hitting "shuffle" on iTunes brings you diminishing returns (although I wrote the songs so they could stand alone; the test is each one's gotta be suitable for a mix tape, but I guess that's for another blog). As a result, it's a record that asks you to sit down with the lyric sheet and listen (the lyrics are color coded to make it easier to figure out who's "saying" what, when); again, something many of us first learned to do with vinyl.
Even the sound of the record is an attempt to capture the meaty sound of vinyl. My studio is state-of-the-art 1984. The kick drum figures prominently and you don't REALLY get the mix until you're sitting in front of some speakers that can handle it. The record sounds thick and muscular, and deliberately so; it's the sound I grew up with.
As a kid, it felt like my family listened to Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life every weekend; the changing of sides was a ritual unto itself, and the ebb and flow of the record was intrinsic to that. My music always comes before my lyrics, and that's because I need to sequence the record first, establish that same type of ebb and flow.
I remember vividly the thrill of picking up The Kids Are Alright on vinyl: Gatefold, inner sleeves like film cans, and a glossy, heavy stock book for the liner notes. You can't beat it. When we designed the package for in "Love," our designer, Jeffrey Everett of El Jefe Design, was a little concerned about making sure the lyrics were readable; we did some brainstorming, and I think we came up with a package that lives up to vinyl's example (except, y'know, it's smaller).
It all sounds a bit fetishistic when I type it down (and that's after I cut the part about slavishly hunting down Duran Duran 12"s), but then, so's music, right? A somewhat idiosyncratic passion that's personal, intimate. It's why I buy records. And why I make them."
TVD and Comet Ping Pong are excited to launch a new series of ticket giveaway contests where each month you can see your show of choice at Comet—FREE. Simply because we're looking out for you and your good time.
Here's how it'll work: each month we'll publish Comet's full schedule right here at TVD, you choose the show you'd like to see and be the first person to claim the tickets for that show in the comments to this post (with contact info!) and you're in FREE—no questions asked.
It's that simple. No long love letters, nothin'.
There will be just ONE winner for a pair of tickets allowed per show and you can't win more than once in a month. (Hey, we gotta have SOME rules...)
We're starting mid-month this time so the schedule below picks up where we are on the calendar right now. Check back soon for November's full calendar and updates as bands get added.
The giveaways start TODAY, so get to it...
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22 Lovvers/ ZZZ Lovvers Post Punks hailing from the UK. "These kids are alright" Lovvers are a strange mix of music’s forgotten / blank generation, re-calling the spirit of Darby Crashes’ Germs, the weirdness of Flipper, Wipers style pop and the careless attitude of The Replacements; at one show a girl was so confused / annoyed that she wrote to KERRANG describing this music as “highly offensive, wanting to erase them from her mind." Offensive? Then it has to be good...right?
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 23 Birds of Avalon/ Loose Lips Birds of Avalon The monsters of North Carolina psycherock blow into the city with howls and roars. Testify. Loose Lips Don't say a word, let the blood shake your heart as DC's own shows you what you need to know.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 29 The Heiz (Tokyo, Japan)/Love the Bomb This one's already FREE! The Heiz Shaku and Asako were members of the well-known Tokyo electro-rock band Milkteath while Kimura played drums for indie rock band Outside. Both bands released many CDs and DVDs, toured Japan nationwide numerous times, and appeared on several television shows. But Shaku, Asako, and Kimura couldn’t get any satisfaction…
The three members of “the heiz” first met in 2005 when their respective bands played together for the first time. Three years worth of jam sessions later and “the heiz” were born.
The theme of "the heiz" is "DO NATURALLY”. "the heiz" eat MUSIC and excrete ROCK’N’ROLL. "the heiz" want to make pure music, like the musicians that inspire them. “the heiz” really want you to hear their ROCK’N’ROLL.
Love the Bomb Sal used to be in Blondsai, Mike used to be in the Gamma Rays and still is in Geisha Lightning. One night they got drunk at a lackluster Jay Reatard show and decided to form a band.
Four times a day, often at half hour stretches...there’s plenty of time for reflection and the mind to wander. A song to sing. A record to recall.
Pete just sniffs along too. The perfect spot is here – no, there. Here – no, there. And no perceived lack of shame to be doing it outdoors at the height of the evening’s rush hour. Business men wind their way around Pete’s business.
I recall my dad saying goodbye to Pete the morning he left for the hospital before his heart operation. ‘I’ll be back...’ he said in his best Arnold impersonation, but didn’t return. So Pete became my mom’s dog alone.
My mom had her fall this summer and was yanked from her home by paramedics without, I’m guessing, a farewell Pete. And from what I understand, she hasn’t been asking for him from the Alzheimer’s wing of the nursing home at all.
So, four times a day, often at half hour stretches...he takes his sweet ol’ time.
Punk, Post-Punk, Rock and Roll, Jazz, Avant Garde, Rap and any other genre that sprung up in the 20th century never made a total break from any existing tradition. They only, in their own ways, redefined traditions and/or played with them. Sometimes this was done lovingly; sometimes not so lovingly. But ultimately, by tradition, one of these untraditional new sounds would be pressed up on vinyl as all other sounds before.
These were then circulated to the unsuspecting and unreceptive. Perhaps these unpopular children would languish in total obscurity only receiving a serious audience late at night in an older brother or sister’s room or as heard by a curious ear through the speakers of a radio tuned to a small college radio station. In this way good, but unpopular music hung around as electronic pulses generated off some scratches on a thin, circular piece of vinyl.
The yet-loved song would travel a complicated path through collections and parties and radio stations and families until one day its intended mark was found and a world was turned on its head. But only by physical presence has the innovative spirit of music persisted; perhaps made for the few at the time, but over time proving that the second act is much more important than the first.
Right now, being hip to vinyl is a way to ensure consistency in the way the generations talk to each other. Weird thought, that. But it’s important because there is no earthly way that someone is going to pick up an mp3 at an mp3 fair in 20 years time and CDs have already shown themselves to be simply shiny coasters. The internet has changed the way we all listen to and buy music with literally a whole world of music available at any time. Things move so quickly that some legitimately great pieces of work might be passed over before they have even had a chance to impress.
But without that solid tangibility--that fat chunk of vinyl--brings the chance that a great tradition-defying, transcendent work will escape recognition completely. Today’s artists understand that implicitly and as such, vinyl is again the medium of choice.
So here I am bending the old-time traditions of dissemination and trying to catch the great (and maybe not so great) pieces of forward-thinking vinyl on their way by on limited pressing runs and give them greater exposure via this monthly online column with new-fangled digital sound samples (now you don’t even have to hang out with your jerky older brother!)
Musique Non Pop is its name. I sincerely hope that other people will become excited by what we hear and in turn, also buy the record and then maybe play it for a friend or even their kids someday. Shit, podcast it if you must. Or at very least, if the tunes ultimately fail to excite, sell the record to a nearby shop so that someone might be lucky enough to discover a dollar bin keeper. Everyone knows E-bay is for thieves. The beat goes on.
And with that I say: “Welcome to my electronic living room.”
Dead Luke - Jumpin Jack Flash (Mp3) Record Two 7", Sacred Bones Records. Sometimes a cover is a measure of band (man) even if originals are mandatory in these ego-forward times. To take a rock classic and distort it through some heavy synth seasoning, taking liberties with it before dumping it in an industrial wasteland while somehow never really abusing it is right gentlemanly and pretty brilliant. Dead Luke is the alias of one Luke William Gasper who runs an excellent cassette-only label (a whole other blog) called Jerkwave Tapes. He promises a new album soon, "Cosmic Meltdown" on Troubleman Unlimited Records. Cheveu - Like A Deer in the Headlights (Mp3) Live on Viva Radio, Brooklyn, 2009. From tiny-town, Metz, France. Cheveu, along with such luminaries such as The Anals and A.H. Kraken, make Metz a good bet to unseat Brooklyn as the undisputed capital of world hipster cool. Here is a much more sonically agressive radio version of a song on 7" only from 2009 on Born Bad Records, Paris. Cheveu are one of the best bands out there. Period.
Having taken the time to rummage through 1,000 previous posts as I did last week, one thing has become apparent: I've COMPLETELY lost the plot to this whole endeavor.
But found a different one I didn't anticipate.
At the outset, the pipe dream was pretty standard—your one stop for vinyl news and reviews coupled with some personal anecdotes. Y’ know, the obvious bullshit. And I guess it could have been great if say, there weren’t a zillion of those sites out there doing just fine, thank you.
So it veered off somehow—less emphasis on the regular stuff and more toward the personal which seems to have struck a chord and resonated somehow. MY bullshit was more interesting than the regular bullshit. Who knew?
But as TVD’s grown in readership and expanded, I’ve sensed a disconnect—the general and personal are at odds and often clash here in tone and substance. The source material’s more the EXPERIENCE rather than the literalness of the vinyl medium for example, and mining that resource is finite. AND one note. (Mine.)
So, I’ll reiterate a plea to all of you reading this in your office cubicle today—share YOURS. Write here. Yes, this spot – (here.) Because I’m frequently told that it’s not the stuff we give away daily, the Mp3’s or the tickets or vinyl that keep some coming back, it’s the personal bent on what could have easily been distant and merely informative in substance and in subject that has ultimately resonated beyond what I assumed at the outset.
It’s a niche which I easily didn’t expect, but welcome nonetheless.
I’ll keep ticking away here daily, but know there’s a forum for you to upchuck whatever’s burning in there.
...that said, back to Lake Me.
My parents' dog Pete has come to live with us in TVD HQ. You’d be surprised at how much of the day unfolds before you among four walks daily. It’s grand indeed, the prattling of the brain and music recalled while you’re scooping poop.
...the one thousand post mark (...AND some serious symptoms of carpel tunnel. Ow.)
To celebrate this slightly auspicious milestone, we’ve got six of DC’s hottest bands who’ll be up in NYC next week, gigging and partying at CMJ.
We corralled them the same way the folks at CMJ did— through their Sonicbids accounts—and all were pleased as punch to send us the low down on where they’re buying their own records from in the District o’ Columbia:
True Womanhood We are big fans of Crooked Beat in Adams Morgan. From the extensive show fliers and bulletin boards by the door to the prime placement of local artists in their record racks, Crooked Beat makes it clear that they are invested in the DC music scene. True Womanhood - Magic Child (Mp3) True Womanhood - Dignitas (Mp3) (The brand new, as in released yesterday, digital EP.)
Title Tracks My favorite record store in the D.C.-area is Joe's Record Paradise out in Rockville. It's the largest vinyl selection by far and the prices are generally low. It's a very rare occasion for me to leave there disappointed. It's inevitable that I wind up having to put records back 'cause I've pulled so many and I'm going to wind up spending way too much if I don't rein it. A big part of what I like about the store is the variety that is found along with their depth. I've found gems in every section (rock, jazz, soul, easy listening, soundtracks, country, folk, etc.)
Middle Distance Runner Red Onion in Adams Morgan is a favorite of ours. It's a little walk-in basement place with a lot of cool, obscure stuff but also a good selection of affordable vinyl. The staff is friendly and helpful, and they let you leave out your own free CDs to promote shows, which a lot of record stores won't let you do. Middle Distance Runner - The Fury (Mp3)
U.S. Royalty We love Som Records on 14th St in DC. Neal Becton has some choice selections and it's got a cool vibe there. The owner also does a Brazilian night at the bar next door and his music taste is impeccable.
These United States Sadly now closed, my favorite record store in the DC area was Orpheus Records in Arlington - not the coolest place nor the place to find the record to impress your hip friends. Just a massive amount of pristine classic jazz and rock records and an equally knowledgeable staff. When I first moved to DC and started buying records, it was one of the few places I never left empty handed.
Bellflur Our first is Joe's Record Paradise in Rockville, MD. We love it because of the number of years that its been in business (approximately 30) and it remains this hidden gem of dusty vinyls and incredible rare finds. Also, its really close to the warehouse where we rehearse and record and develop the visual aspects and samples for our show. Old vinyl is just an inspirational medium in its own right.
However, since Joe's is up in Rockville, our go to place in the District is Crooked Beat. I discovered this shop shortly after I moved back to dc in 2001, and I immediately liked its aesthetic in comparison to the neighborhood in which it resides. Adam's Morgan is lively and diverse, sure... but I like that this viable, but overlooked medium is right under the noses of masses of people who couldn't be bothered with a music format if it's not quickly accessible and downloadable. The selection is great. The atmosphere is cozy. And the staff is always on top of their game. Bellflur - Gray Sparkle Finnish Pigs (Mp3)
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Now, you’d think after traipsing through the TVD archives this week, something OTHER than vinyl, or music even, is at work here daily. Well, not so.
From the 'Hey, I thought this blog was about VINYL?!' file comes this last retrospective look back at previous posts as we approach 1,000 posts. (Which happens uh, later today...)
Throughout her life, my mom has been a wonderful pianist. Entirely self taught and without the ability to read music, she could listen to most pieces and in moments play it back for you almost verbatim. It’s a skill she seemingly had to pick up as her father, a violinist and concert organizer, forestalled my mother’s desire to study and participate in the classical ensembles he’d put together each weekend in the family’s home in Newark, New Jersey.
And my mother never got over it. I think she’d say her father’s grand ego and perhaps chauvinism on some level was the mitigating factor, so mom set out on her own and in the 1940’s and ‘50’s joined various USO groups and began writing music for live, staged performances to welcome soldiers home from the war and those who’d later shuffle on off to further conflicts.
I of course didn’t know my mom in this guise—her musical endeavors having been set aside to raise two kids later on. But oh, the house was full of music daily and her weekend piano performances quite literally could be heard through the neighborhood. And it seems, even up until recently at 84, she was serenading the aides who’d come in three times daily to tend to her and make her meals. I’d hear quite often, “Jon – your mother is SUCH a wonderful piano player...” I’d nod and agree as I’ve heard this all of my life. Self taught, never read music.
In her absence last week, I sat at her baby grand which has followed her throughout her entire life. It’s been well maintained and the innards have been rebuilt many times over and it still rings pitch-perfect.
There was a notebook on top of the piano that I started to flip through and the header on the very first page took me back a bit. In my mother’s oddly singular longhand, she had begun the page with “Memory Lapses.” What followed was an enumeration of things she’d forgotten—some were merely actor’s names or songwriters of popular standards or movie titles. This list grew longer and longer as it became clear she was adding to it over time.
Most surprising however was that, with exacting detail amidst cross-outs and erasures, she’d begun to transcribe all the songs she knew by memory into basic scales and keys with the accompanying lyrics. Page after page, each one marginally less focused than the last until nothing was left but empty white lined pages in her notebook.
Responsibilities we understand, the body fitfully performs.
One of our absolute favorite bands here at TVD HQ, Art Brut is on the road in support of their new release “Art Brut vs. Satan” and the tour stops right here.
In DC. On Sunday. At The Black Cat. And we’ve got. Tickets. A pair.
But you’ve got only a tiny window to grab them as we need to have a winner by this time tomorrow. So, pen your pleas post haste in the comments to this post to procure the pair (with contact info!) We’re choosing a winner tomorrow (10/16) at noon!
"So many bands are just putting it on/Why can't they be the same as their songs?/I can't help it, I'm so naïve/Another record with my heart on the sleeve..."
This past December, under the guise of a little experiment here at TVD, I wrote that I, you, we spend an inordinate amount of time by ourselves in our daily lives performing those basic, mundane tasks that are the essence of being human--showering, brushing one's teeth, taking out the garbage...the list goes on.
In my teen years which are normally the most social of times, it seemed I'd go out of my way to retire to solitude after school and most oddly on the weekends. I wasn't a loner by any real stretch of the imagination...just sorta' kept to myself with the outlets being drawing and reading, for example. The major outlet however was: music.
I was reminded recently about "Things from England," Scott "The Professor" Muni's Friday afternoon 4-6PM radio show on New York City's WNEW-FM. I'd tape the entire show and later, on walks outside by myself or with the family dog, boom-box in tow, would listen to the program back as Scottso's voice boomed off homes braced for winter weather, buttressed by tall snow drifts that I never seem to experience any longer.
There's a quiet solitude within this winter weather I recall quite fondly when I'd head outdoors into the snow for a long walk around the block or up the hill where we'd sleigh-ride ...but long after everyone had gone home. Bathed in purple/orange streetlight--that was the place for me. And "The "Professor."
This week we're gonna go on some of those walks again with some of the music that, for good or for bad, became the soundtrack...
"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now..." (First posted on Friday, July 25, 2008.)
In the summer of '84, my Aunt Gerry and her husband, my Uncle "Turk", came to stay with us for two weeks...which JUST so happened to coincide with a new found fondness for slipping out the door and around the house for a puff or twelve.
My folks were a known commodity...I was in sync with their schedules, knew their patterns, and 99% of the time no one was the wiser. Gerry, bless her with her white zinc'd nose and terrycloth beach hat, was another story. Her patterns were erratic--one moment she's sunning herself out on the deck, another moment she's mixing whiskey sours. What to make of this? I was forced to wait it out til things settled down. And wait. And wait...
I count some of my finest moments on earth to be those when finally the lights went out and I snuck out into the simmering summer. Alone with the crickets and the fireflies in the purple light...y'know--thinking things over for the first time. I'd have played all these songs waiting for this moment and when slipping back in and returning to the same playlist, they sounded all that much better.
Gerry and Turk are both gone now and yet I think of that summer as the Last Great Summer when I had nothing but time to just...wait...things...out.
I'm sitting behind a drum kit that's littered with hay in the upstairs of a huge open air barn. To the left of me, the rolling hills of Virginia are blanketed in orange. We've just had a blistering rehearsal. I mean, it's really beginning to gel after all the months of practice. The new rhythm guitarist is fitting in perfectly and hell, with a practice space like this he could be just awful and I'd have him in.
Then ye olde bomb drops -- the front man and songwriter is moving to Finland to be with his girlfriend. "I'm getting too f'n old for this, man" I guessed, breaking down my gear. "Sci Fi Lullabies" was the soundtrack for that drive through the quiet, tense countryside back home to DC -- Fall, 1997.
If the saying is true that the ‘unexamined life is not worth living,’ then it certainly can be said that the unexamined blog’s not worth reading. Or something like that, right?
I was pleasantly surprised last week upon taking note of the fact that TVD’s closing in on 1,000 posts.
ONE THOUSAND. (That’s a whole lotta red wine.)
But seriously, it’s an odd achievement in hindsight. Where did all of this come from? How was all of this cobbled together?
I mean, I KNOW...I was there and wrote the stuff alongside contributors from time to time...yet I’m still shaking my head. And to think I complained often before TVD that I had no free time...
This week: a retrospective stroll through the TVD back pages—for myself and perhaps you as a new or recent reader—as we inch ever closer to that 1,000 post mark.
Sometime back at the start of this blog, I wrote about this Beatles reissue LP which also happened to be the first record I ever bought, way back in '76. It seems that once The Beatles contract with E.M.I. expired on February 6th 1976, E.M.I. had the rights to release any of The Beatles previously released recordings. This double set was the first album release where E.M.I. exerted that total control.
Researching this release over the weekend, I came across this commentary, "As with the "Red" and "Blue" albums, the presentation of this package was once again diabolical. The artwork was awful, no "special" tracks, no lyrics, no coloured bags, nothing. In fact, John had actually written to E.M.I. offering a design, and was not at all impressed with E.M.I.'s refusal and the finished product. The art direction was by Roy Kohara, and the amateurish drawings were by Ignacio Gomez."
Man, I couldn't disagree more. Perhaps it's just dewy-eyed nostalgia, but I think the art is quite wonderful and well rendered. The front cover likenesses are spot on (ok, Ringo looks a little dodgy) but otherwise a great package. I dig the hands holding the record too -- a design nuance that has lingered in my brain for all this time.
Most of all though, I vividly recall going to the aforementioned Two Guys in Neptune, New Jersey with my dad to buy this record. "Got to Get You into My Life" was the "new" single from this collection and I was enthralled -- I had mowed the lawn just enough to save the cash, and with the requisite hole burned clear through my pocket, we headed out to buy this thing. What a day. I literally can even recall what the new vinyl and the printed cover smelled like when the outer plastic was removed.
Seems some things you just never forget.
Which is why I had been recalling this trip to the Two Guys in 1976 over the past weekend. Dad passed away one year ago today. I find myself typing at the same desk where this day last year my cell rang to let me know dad had lost the month-long battle with pneumonia. Talk about going numb. The sensation was ten gazillion alarms going off in your head...a paralyzing disorientation. And loss.
Those alarms over the past year have seemingly popped off one by one. Time they say, at 33, 45 or 78 RPMs is a healer, and it's true. You move back into the routine, you're cracking jokes again and meeting the boys at the bar for drinks. But there's a deeper undercurrent to the memories that ultimately comprise just who the hell you are. Music, the old records on the shelf are imbued with a notch in the psyche, a clear bookmark of a place and time.
Which is frankly, why I thought to start this blog -- to recall mine and perhaps ignite those recollections for whoever cares to read and recall their own. And to give dad a shout-out for encouraging his kid to just be himself and follow his interests. He'd say, "Hey kid, it's your money" or when I cut my own hair in a Bono-like mullet, he said "It's your hair, kid. You wanna look that way, fine."
Forgive me if I think he was just the best dad a kid could have. For these things and so, so much more.
DC funk/breakbeat/remix collective Fort Knox Five embark on a US Tour this week in advance of their new release ‘The New Gold Standard 2’ which sees the light of day on November 3rd. Despite its November due date, FK5 are holding a pre-release party Tuesday night (10/13) at the 9:30. Joining FK5 are Dutch DJ trio Kraak and Smaak.
TVD’s got TWO pairs of tickets AND a copy of FK5’s debut release ‘Radio Free DC’ on vinyl for the two individuals who make the most noise in the comments to this post. That’s it! Just state your case ...we’re givers.
Make sure to leave some contact info so we can get back to the noisiest of the bunch. We’re closing this one on Monday (10/12) so get at us!
(AND check back with us after November 3 because rumor has it there’ll be some fresh ‘New Gold Standard 2’ vinyl to bestow on you guys too...)
"Whatever gets you through the night 'salright, 'salright It's your money or life 'salright, 'salright Don't need a sword to cut through flowers oh no, oh no..."
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