Dr. Funkenstein. The Godfather of Funk. The cool ghoul with the funk transplant. Whatever name you know George Clinton by, when he and the massive collective that makes up Parliment Funkadelic come to town, especially to Washington, D.C., "One Nation Under a Groove" takes on a higher meaning. And on Tuesday, the 71-year-old Clinton and his ministers of funk took over the 930 Club stage to an audience ready to show him some major love. True, you wouldn't mistake the show for the Cap Center in the 1970s—the visually stunning Mothership(s) may have gone on to better (and worse) things, there was no flying bird, and the Godfather was sans dread locks and sporting a sharp suit. But it was still absolutely something to see. Chocolate City has long loved Clinton and P-Funk, and based on all of the dancing Tuesday night, this band will forever be good to the ear holes of Washington, D.C. Respect will always be paid.

Additional photos from the set can be seen here.

Heart America Hearts: The indie-poppers played some brand new music at a recent show at Dynasty, and All Our Noise captured video.

More 52 O Street Blues: Well, actually the same blues. WAMU checks in on the upcoming eviction of some first-floor tenants of the Truxton Circle artists space, and, yep, it's still happening. Landlord Marty Youmans says he may delay his plans to build an art-themed youth hostel, but not for too long.

Sad Trombone for 9:30: Pollstar announced its annual awards on Friday, and while the frequently lauded I.M.P. Productions and 9:30 Club were nominated in three categories, they walked away empty-handed.

Today on Arts Desk: Portlandia hearts D.C. Goethe-Institut's annual German photography exhibition.

The article has since flown about social media, causing many a sad emoticon and, apparently, excessive vomiting. The jab is all the more painful because there is some truth to it–D.C. is damn expensive, and we don't have as many entrepreneurial opportunities or as much cultural cred as, say, New York. That's not exactly shocking news, since New York is the biggest city in the country, with more than 10 times the residents D.C. has. But it's still frustrating to hear so much haterade tossed at your town when all kinds of artists and musicians are busting ass to make some really cool stuff around here. Speaking as a proud local resident, musician, and arts journalist, I think Yglesias—while he's not totally off base—sold our fair city short.

First, there are bizarre references to the murder rate, which is both irrelevant and inconsistent; are cities with a lower murder rate "cooler?" If so, how does he square that with his argument that D.C. was most culturally important in the '80s, when the murder rate was significantly higher than today? And besides, does anyone think places he mentioned like Cincinnati or Kansas City are significantly cooler than D.C.?

But what really hit home for me was this line: “...if you're a semi-employed artist or guitar player it's much more expensive than Philadelphia or Baltimore and still smaller and less interesting than New York City, which has less than one-third our murder rate.” Again, I’m not sure how the murder rate is germane, but the cost-benefit ratio to the creative class is a pretty big deal. Speaking as a “semi-employed guitarist,” I have to admit he’s partially correct. If you’re in a rock band and simply need a hub from which to tour, both Baltimore and Philadelphia are generally more affordable than the District. They have cheaper rent, more artist studios, and more practice spaces.

But if you’re looking for a city with a decent grant system, a slew of great venues, a consistent dedication to making the arts accessible, and a strong sense of community, I would argue D.C. easily tops those two.

We have a gloriously free art culture here. Look at events from the Smithsonian hosting music & art shows with folks like John Davis and Kennedy Center's Millennium Stage, to summer concerts series like Fort Reno, Fort Dupont, and the National Gallery’s Jazz in the Garden. There are the regular pay-what-you-can nights at theaters like Woolly Mammoth, the cheap or free boundary-pushing exhibits at Artisphere, and access to world-class art museums that don’t cost a dime. Those "large sums of money" that Yglesias says are handy for going out to dinner in D.C.? In New York, you'd be dropping them to visit the MOMA, instead.

D.C.'s cultural strength comes precisely because the city isn't in the business of manufacturing coolness. Unlike New York or L.A., we aren't drowning in ladder climbers and mercenaries. It's generally assumed you have to work another job as a musician/artist/actor in D.C., and there’s a certain spirit of collaboration that’s not fraught with opportunism. You can go to Fort Reno and fraternize with hardcore veterans like Ian MacKaye (and sometimes Henry Rollins) and expect a relaxed, supportive atmosphere. While there are musicians for hire in D.C., it’s equally common for people in the music scene to simply collaborate for art’s sake. There may not be the same networking opportunities in D.C., but as a result, there’s not the kind of cut-throat competition and careerism.

The DIY, punk rock spirit in D.C. still supports bands without managers, fosters affordable shows, and encourages community activism. Is there a New York equivalent to Positive Force? Since 1984, the activist collective has and continues to host benefit shows for local charities, featuring big-name acts like Ted Leo and Titus Andronicus alongside myriad locals. Are there many prominent all-ages venues in New York? 9:30 Club is consistently ranked among the best clubs in the nation and doesn’t require patrons to be of drinking age (nor do the Black Cat or the Rock and Roll Hotel).

So sure, if you’re a penniless artist or musician looking for endless dirt-cheap housing options in non-gentrified areas, Philadelphia or Baltimore is probably a better bet. If you’re willing to hunt for an affordable spot (there are still a few left), though, D.C. has a slew of cultural benefits, a grassroots music community, very little pretense, and a long history of creative success.

Of course, we also have more than our fair share of wonks writing contrarian pieces for the Internet. But hey, no city's perfect.

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

Washington City Paper: You’re currently touring with Beirut. How has that been? Is there anything you miss while on tour?

Mike Hadreas: It’s been good; I don’t think we’ve done a supporting tour before. We’ve opened for other people but not for a long stretch of multiple shows. We haven’t played big shows like this before. It’s definitely a lot bigger than if I was headlining. They’re a hard act to follow though since we have a little three-piece thing and then they come out with like, 20 horns and a million instruments. But it’s been really easy and really fun so far. Do I miss anything? I kind of don’t miss anything, I like the direction I have on tour, I have a little book that tells me everything I’m supposed to do everyday and I have a goal get up and just play everyday and when I’m at home I don’t know what to do with myself 90 percent of the time. I kind of like the direction even if it’s kind of busy sometimes.

WCP: Learning came out about a year ago. What are your future plans for a record? Have you been recording?

MH: I’m actually done with that! I recorded most of it up in England and then when we got home I kind of decided that I wanted to write a couple more louder songs cause I made like, the quietest album ever (laughs). I didn’t want it to all string along so I recorded some pop songs with drums and stuff and recorded them a couple of months ago. I think they’re announcing it soon; there’s all kinds of rules about that. I think it could be out really soon!

WCP: Is there a title yet?

MH: I have a title for it, who knows if they’ll get that mad at me. It’s called Put Your Back N 2 It [laughs].

WCP: That’s definitely different than Learning. I know you recorded your first album out of your mom’s house in Washington, and this album was recorded in England. Was it a big change in recording in a different location? Was one better than the other?

MH: It was, I was really nervous at first because I thought I wouldn’t let loose because there’s like three other people watching me, and I can hear everything that’s going on because it’s like, high tech, you know. But the producer that I found was really, I kind of told him I wanted it to sound like the first album as far as being really simple but you could actually hear my voice so it’s not like a million tracks or anything. It’s sort of what I would have done at home but with people helping me. There’s good parts for both kinds of recording because I had people there that could suggest things or if I had an idea for something I couldn’t do myself, I could ask them to work it out. Like, there’s a trombone on one song and I can’t play the trombone, so I don’t think I would’ve been able to smuggle some trombone at my mom’s house.

WCP: I know you do a lot of piano playing, but did you play any other instruments on this album? Is there anything you’d want to play?

MH: Well I listened to Joanna Newsom obsessively when her new album came out, and I’m kind of glad that I couldn’t play harps because even when I was listening to that I noticed that when I would try to write I sort of, like, was chirping and basically was imitating her, so it taught me that when I’m trying to write I can’t listen to anything. But I do play the acoustic guitar on one song! That’s my wildest departure. I also play...I wanted this, I called it a “thunder drum,” so I was trying to explain it to them so they basically set up this room with one big drum in it and I would just go smack that thing. So I’m a drummer now too, of one big drum.

WCP: Learning is a really personal album and you drew a lot from your own experiences. Did you go through a similar songwriting process or did your draw inspiration from new places or people?

MH: I wasn’t interested in going through my diary again, you know? Sometimes things have to start there because I’m just miserable and that’s how I know how to deal with it, but I just made sure with every song that I thought about my mom….I tried to write for other people and not just me. Even if I started with me I thought about it all to try and make it universal or dedicate it to one of my friends or my mom or something.

WCP: When I first heard Learning I kind of thought your voice sounded like Sufjan Stevens, and from what I’ve read I wasn’t alone on that comparison. Is it strange for you to be compared to other artists? Is there anyone you’d want to be compared to?

MH: I don’t know if I think about it really. I think sometimes if you play the piano and you sing really high, it’s like a really easy comparison to make to other people even if the music isn’t that similar. Like Rufus Wainwright—I always get compared to him because I’m a homo that plays the piano. I don’t mind that one but I don’t know, I don’t really think about it too much. Sometimes I wish I was as cool as other people. I saw EMA and she was just super, super badass. I don’t know how I would work that presence into my music but I kind of wish I was a little more hip sometimes.

WCP: Maybe you should make an electronic music next, or get into dubstep.

MH: [Laughs] Like some party jams. I don’t know about that, I don’t get the whole dubstep game. It’s just quiet…well I like the James Blake thing but it’ll be like one thing, and then there will be five of silence and then like something awful again.

WCP: On that note, since it’s almost the end of December, what would be on your best of list of the year?

MH: It’s kind of recent but after the whole Joanna Newsom thing I decided I’m not going to listen to any new music until I’m done working. But I  just got the new Kate Bush album a little bit ago and that’s really good and the EMA album is really good too. I think those are my top two—and the PJ Harvey album. Basically ladies—any lady that did anything this year.

Perfume Genius opens for Beirut Tuesday and Wednesday at 9:30 Club. Both shows are sold out.

On the 9:30 Club stage last night, the Portland, Ore. indie-folk outfit Blind Pilot showcased many generations of instruments, from banjo, to stand-up bass,  to squeeze-box. Luckily for the close-to-capacity crowd, the songs were pretty timeless, too.

Additional photos from the show can be seen here.

Annie Clark, aka St. Vincent, played to a sold-out 9:30 Club last night, pairing her ethereal voice with off-kilter indie-pop melodies full of sometimes-frantic beats and a bass sound so big it would have made Chuck D jealous. From the start of "Surgeon" to the finale of "Your Lips are Red," she had the crowd in the palm of her delicate hand.

Additional photos from the set can be seen here.

Illustration by Brooke Hatfield

If you've seen DJ Stereo Faith spin, you know he's a straightforward party starter who keeps it cool no matter where he's spinning. But when he opened last Friday for Peter Hook and the Light—the latest project from the former Joy Division and New Order bassist—he got uncharacteristically nervous, he says. No wonder: "Joy Division's my all-time-favorite band," writes Stereo Faith, aka Steve McPherson.

At the show, Stereo Faith's DJ set was heavy on post-punk, including many of Joy Division's early-'80s peers. (You can listen to the set on Soundcloud.) The devotion did not go unappreciated.

"When it was all said and done, I tried to sneak out of the club without talking to the bass player of what I consider to be the best band ever," writes Stereo Faith. Hook grabbed Stereo Faith before he could make a quiet exit. According to Stereo Faith, the conversation went like this:

Peter: You were the DJ right?
Me: Yeah.
Peter: That was great!
Me: Thanks.
Peter: I'm sitting here with the band and I go "This is great!"
Me: Cool.
Peter: You also played a Revenge song. F**king excellent man! I heard it and was all like "I know this song." Then I realized "I f**king wrote it!"
Me: Ha! I know, bro. (Yes, I bro'd him. Ask anyone who was standing there.)

Then he signed "Keep the Faith" for me on a piece of paper and I got the hell out of there.

Stereo Faith Live at 930 Club 9-21-2011 by djstereofaith

The sun shone bright Saturday at this year's Virgin FreeFest at Merriweather Post Pavilion, and while the grounds were a bit muddier than last year, at least the Dance Forest wasn't as dusty. It was the first nice afternoon in weeks—as well as the day before the 10th anniversary of 9/11, and the start of Ethiopian New Year, as we learned from Patti Smith—so this year's lineup, heavier on the synth and electronica acts than years past, provided an upbeat soundtrack to a beautiful day.

Grace Potter & the Nocturnals

Cut Copy

!!!

Patti Smith

Cee Lo

TV on the Radio

The Black Keys

Deadmau5

Additional photos from Virgin FreeFest sets and people can be found here.

Strange Mercy aims to follow suit, but Clark's success rate is suddenly off. There are times—starting with the clattering, buzzing coda to opener “Chloe in the Afternoon”—where you half-expect her to leap up like a mad scientist from her lab and throw a curtain across the room while screaming, “Don't look at it! It's not ready yet!”

Then again, boilerplate St. Vincent can still be delightfully surprising, as is the case with “Cheerleader.” (It deflates retroactively thanks to the subsequent “Surgeon,” which is unfocused and wiggy, serving almost as chillout reprise). “Cruel” could be a dance song, kinda, sorta, maybe, if you had legs sprouting from your sides at 90-degree angles. Clark dumps out what seems to be her entire bag of tricks all at once in “Northern Lights,” and it's hard to appreciate any one of them when they're all happening simultaneously.

It's not until midway through Strange Mercy that the machinery fully kicks in. That's when Clark unleashes the gorgeous title track, which has the same deliberate, measured approach (and not a few of the sonic strategies) of Kate Bush's The Sensual World. From that point on, Clark seems like she can do no wrong, even when, for instance, her voice clunks right up against the bottom of her range before the first verse of “Champagne Year” is over. It sounds great on her, vulnerable and calming rather than unnerving and passive. If it also sounds like Jenny Lewis singing “Hallelujah,” Clark still manages to take it in new directions. The same holds true for “Dilettante,” which is like “Bennie And The Jets” with a drier one-two clomp and the closing keyboard freakout transferred to guitar and repositioned to crash through the chorus.

More than anyone, though, it's Bush that St. Vincent most resembles at this point in her career, even when Clark doesn't sound like her, or anyone else. When Strange Mercy works, it borders on stunning; when it falters, it's simply an ambitious whiff. “It's not a perfect plan,” sings Clark at one point, “but it's the one we've got.”

St. Vincent performs at the 9:30 Club on Nov. 1. $20.