DCist is reporting that “Arlington Institution” Dr. Dremo’s is about to finally see the wrecking ball. The massive bar complex is getting razed to make way for…. more condos (ugh). The blog notes: “Demolition has finally begun. Most of the surrounding buildings are being taken down today, and one construction worker said he had been told they’d do the actual Dremo’s building sometime next week. So, Dremo’s fans, stroll by this week to take one long, last look.”

This past January, D.C. Foodies penned a tribute to the watering hole:

I fondly remember its parking lot as one of the best ground level locations to watch the July 4th fireworks over the Mall. It is this great view I fear which sealed the bar’s fate. After years of harassment from the Arlington County government and other local groups, the owners, the Stewart family, have finally had the land sold out from under them to real estate developers. This location will soon be home to 141 brand new luxury condos. To be fair, the closure may have been inevitable as the building is falling apart and has been doing so since the bar opened as Bardo Rodeo back in the early Nineties: but that’s the real charm of the place! Dr Dremo’s is one of the best examples of an endangered species in the DC area, the dive bar, and as such it will be greatly missed.

Read More “Dr. Dremo’s To Meet Wrecking Ball” »

Alton Ellis is dead. Trojan Records writes:

“Paying a fitting tribute to the career of Alton Nehemiah Ellis in just a few paragraphs is an impossible task. For well over forty years, his inimitable voice has thrilled hundreds of thousands worldwide on countless classic Ska, Soul, Rock Steady and Reggae recordings, many of which he also happened to have penned. His passing last night in Hammersmith Hospital is a terrible loss not just the world of music, but the world at large, for, as all who came to meet him can testify, he was truly a prince among men.”

I will remember him for his Mr. Soul of Jamaica LP. A truly great album.

“When I die, gimme six crap-shootin’ pall-bearers / Chorus girls, sing me a song / Put a red-hot jazz band at the top of my head / Hallelujah as we roll along.”

The question of how to dispose of my mortal remains has weighed on me of late. Raised Baptist and Episcopalian by turns—with a meager annuity of Judaism courtesy of certain paternal relatives—I’ve since strayed from the path of righteousness into the turpid thickets of cohabitation and Crescent City blues. Which means, of course, that for this agno-mystic, ruminations on divine judgment and soul-transposition present thickets of their own—as does the cadaverous question that opens this paragraph.
Read More “The St. James Infirmary Blues; or, Notes Towards a Definition of Voodoo” »

Sad news for anyone awaiting a Pink Floyd reunion: Richard Wright, the band’s organist and one of its founding members, died today of cancer. He was 65.

Wright was the linchpin of the Floyd sound. That lush organ, with its beastly Leslies and bent-pitch contortions, preserved and broadened the breathless psychedelia that Syd Barrett had championed before his doomstruck descent into the rabbit hole—and beginning with Meddle, Wright led the great backbeat (spare drums, bass in the pocket, organ washes countering funk with fizz) that anchored all extended Floyd jams until The Final Cut (the only album on which he doesn’t play a note). Plus, the guy could sing. That nice high harmony on “Echoes”? That’s him.

Wright’s songwriting never got the credit it deserved, either from the masses or from Roger Waters, who eventually edged him out. The AP’s obfuscation of Wright’s writing credits is indicative of the backseat history has allotted him:

The band released a series of commercially and critically successful albums including 1973’s “Dark Side of the Moon,” which has sold more than 40 million copies. Wright wrote “The Great Gig In The Sky” and “Us And Them” for that album, and later worked on the group’s epic compositions such as “Atom Heart Mother,” “Echoes” and “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.”

As many of the 40 million folks who’ve purchased Dark Side (not to mention the red-eyed hordes who’ve downloaded it illegally) can tell you, Atom Heart Mother dropped in 1970, and Meddle (on which “Echoes” debuted) in 1971—both of ‘em well before Dark Side.

“Shine On” appeared on 1975’s Wish You Were Here.

Below, a clip of Richard recording piano lines to “Us and Them.” Wisecracks courtesy of Nick Mason.

DCist is reporting that indie pop duo Georgie James–and one of D.C.’s more interesting groups–has called it quits. Here is the message posted on the band’s website:

After three years, Georgie James is calling it a day. We’re proud of the album we made and everything else that we were able to do during our time together. We are both working on our respective solo projects (John’s can be found at www.myspace.com/titletracksdc and Laura’s at www.myspace.com/lauraburhenn) and hope to have albums out early next year. Thanks to everyone that helped our band over these past few years. And thanks to those who’ve listened to the music and come out to the shows. It is greatly appreciated. See you around soon. – John and Laura/Georgie James

No matter how kinda lame the D.C. indie scene has gotten lately, you could always say “At least, there’s Georgie James.” Now, who’s gonna be our flagship band? Judging by their solo myspace pages, John has a leg up on his former music partner. He’s already got tons of demos. At least that’s something to cheer. [You can read our review of Georgie James' only LP here.]

Channel your best eulogy writing in the comments section!

The San Francisco Chronicle is reporting that experimental filmmaker Bruce Conner died yesterday of natural causes. Anybody who knows about experimental filmmaking knows at least a little about his work; music fans too. Here’s the film Conner directed for Devo’s “Mongoloid”:

And here’s his film for Brian Eno and David Byrne’s “America Is Waiting,” from their My Life in the Bush of Ghosts album:

The dedicated Web site for that album (!) has his film for the song “Mea Culpa.”

Update 7/9: In response to the legal request in the comments, I’ve gone ahead and removed embedding of the YouTube videos; presumably they’ll be removed from YouTube shortly, so catch them while you can.

Thanks to a tip from a smart reader, we checked into the Bo Diddley-lived-here thesis. It’s true. Diddley lived at 2614 Rhode Island Avenue NE in the ’60s. [OK--the reader had all the facts completely correct]. He talks about living here in a Washington Post feature published in 2006:

Diddley lived here from 1959 to 1966, building a studio in the basement of his house at 2614 Rhode Island Ave. NE, where he recorded 1960’s classic Bo Diddley Is a Gunslinger album.

“I just wanted to be in Washington, D.C., around the Howard Theater,” Diddley explains. “I did everything from D.C. At that time, I was driving all the time — I didn’t start flying until 1968 — and it was close to New York and the South.”

I checked with The Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs. The address has not been registered as a historic landmark. I will have more in a bit.

Update 10 a.m. June 4: The 2614 Rhode Island Avenue NE property is not listed as a landmark or part of a historic district, according to Kim Williams, the national register coordinator with the D.C. Historic Preservation Office. She goes on to say no application has been filed on behalf of that property in the last seven years. She’s “almost 100 percent sure” there has never been a landmark application submitted.

“If there are preservation organizations or neighborhood groups that are interested in having it designated, we will consider it,” Williams says.

Bo Diddley has died. This sucks. Despite the fact that he was long past his hipster prime, he still rocked a lot of group house parties–specifically mine. I picked up his greatest hits on vinyl for cheap and would always crank up “Mona.”

So thank you, Bo Diddley.

For a few days, I was tasked with researching the life of Christopher Savage. Savage had moved to D.C. from Bakersfield, Calif. in the hopes of starting a new life. After five days in the District, he ended up dead. The cause of his death remains a mystery. His life is a different matter. He tended to wear his life on his sleeve. You can read the full story here.

But one thing that struck me–aside from everything else–about Savage was his dedication to being a punk rocker. He came here with three jean jackets emblazoned with shoutouts to his beloved Turbonegro. He also brought with him only one CD: a best-of Motorhead compilation. And for his new friends, a sack of Crass buttons.

Savage was 36. It’s just a long time to be a punk rocker. I don’t think this is so rare anymore. The Internet certainly helps. He lived on the Turbonegro fan message boards. And just about any band has some sort of forum for other fans to communicate with each other–trade bootlegs, merch, set lists, and just feel like they are a part of something. So few scenes feel like scenes anymore. Except on the Internet. Pitchfork makes a point about this today with its review of the new No Age record–a band very much rooted in a city and in an all-ages space.

Maybe with the music shake-up in Mount P, things could change here as well.

Dim the lights and pour out a little rosé tonight for soft-rock pioneer Paul Davis, who passed away yesterday at 60. One of the formative experiences of my early musical life was listening to Casey Kasem’s American Top 20 and for some reason keeping detailed lists of who was at what position each week. For a long time it was Paul Davis with his broken-heart ballad “I Go Crazy,” which was in the Top 100 for 40 weeks and on AT20 for what felt like twice that.

Here’s a video of Davis performing “I Go Crazy.” It’s instructive how little motion there is onstage.

Personally, I prefer “65 Love Affair,” (listen here) because I like to remember when rock ‘n’ roll was simple and clear.