Now, it turns out the MiniDisc doesn't actually contain "Misery Let Me Down." But it does tell us even more about Smith's Third Rail Radio performance at WMUC.

After the Post's story went online, WMUC record librarian David Taylor spent a couple days digitizing material from that MiniDisc. He sent me an e-mail Wednesday afternoon explaining his progress and the process:

I currently have the session in a single wav file. I messed around with the EQ and amplified it, so you could say that I've 're-mastered' it. All that needs to be done now is to split it into tracks and convert to FLAC and mp3. We are looking at over 18 minutes of content here. It should be done and online by tomorrow, but I might just finish it later today.

Taylor finished the job Wednesday night and quickly posted the tracks to WMUC's Tumblr along with an explanation of what he found. The MiniDisc that Weisholtz sent back to the station isn't the original recording of Smith's session; it contains six songs and promo Smith recorded for the station, which makes it shorter than the CD. "Misery Let Me Down and the aborted versions of "Division Day" and "Say Yes" are missing from the MiniDisc. What's more, the MiniDisc has one cut, "The Biggest Lie," that's not on the CD  version of Smith's performance. So neither the CD nor the MiniDisc contains the entire session.

Judging by the content on the newly acquired MiniDisc, it's safe to guess that it's an edited compilation of Third Rail Radio performances meant for future on-air play. Smith's unfinished takes are omitted, and the singer likely didn't even want "Misery Let Me Down" to be recorded, so that's not here either. (Before he started playing the tune, Smith asked, "Can I like warm up and play a song before we tape?") On the MiniDisc, Smith's performance is also paired with one by Braid, and while the emo foursome did a Third Rail Radio set, it wasn't with Smith. Though it's hard to say for certain that the MiniDisc was indeed created for future radio play, it's clear that the disc doesn't contain the original recording of Smith's performance.

But Taylor hasn't given up on finding the original recording of Smith's performance. In fact, going by that Tumblr post, it's become something akin to his white whale:

We will not have a definitive version of Smith’s WMUC performance until we can find the original ADAT that it was recorded on.  It has become one of my highest priorities and I will keep you posted on any developments.  This will have to tide you over in the meantime.

He's got a big quest ahead of him, but faithful Elliott Smith fans might want to take solace in a short note the record librarian left at the end of his Tumblr post—he found the ADAT of the Braid session. At the very least, now Braid fans can rejoice, too.

Kropp says there are plenty of recordings that get sucked into a black hole only to pop up at some point later, including some reel-to-reel promos for the station by The Beatles. In fact, he says he found a copy of that Elliott Smith session back in 2004. So, he did what any curious crate-digger would do: He ripped a copy of it. But Kropp "never thought to share it with any of my friends," and he didn't know that the recordings he found contained an unreleased song. He was just pleasantly surprised to find a copy of the session after hearing whispers about its existence.

The same goes for former WMUC live music director Chris Henry when he found a CD copy of the performance back in 2009. As live music director, Henry was responsible for running Third Rail Radio, the program Smith appeared on in 1996, but he discovered the CD before he ran that show. Henry wasn't even trying to find a recording of Smith's set when he decided to go digging through the archives, though he'd heard about it—he was actually hunting for a rumored WMUC performance by Will Oldham. But when he found it in a binder, he opted to do the same thing Kropp did some five years prior. "I had an engineer make a copy for me and I brought the copy back to my apartment and ripped it to my computer," Henry says.

Henry placed that CD back in its original file, where it probably still remains. ("It sort of surprised me that nobody touched the CD after that, which I think is kind of odd," he says.) He named the 10 tracks he ripped onto his computer as best he could, and gave the lead-off tune the title "Division Day, Take 1." That's because on the recording Smith began playing "Division Day" for about 20 seconds before stopping, mumbling, and eventually performing that impromptu version of "Misery Let Me Down." Like Kropp, Henry wasn't aware that the tune that followed his aborted take of "Division Day" was an unreleased gem. He learned that last Friday, long after he passed the digital files along to WMUC co-music director Vaman Muppala.

"It's always been a legend at the station," Muppala says of the Smith session. It landed in his lap in the form of a curious package from Weisholtz. As Malitz wrote, Muppala found a MiniDisc marked "Elliott Smith/Braid" in the package. But he couldn't do anything with it: Muppala hadn't seen anyone use a MiniDisc player at the station. Ripping the session from the disc got added to a future "to do" list, but nothing could be done then. That's where Henry came in.

When Muppala realized Henry had a digital version of the tracks—albeit a rip of a rip of the original MiniDisc—he asked him for a copy. Henry passed it along and uploaded the session to WMUC's digital music archive. In the wee hours of Oct. 17, Muppala sent an e-mail about the session's availability to the station's listserv with a subject that captured his rapt excitement: "Live at WMUC! on the music Archive and ELLIOTT EFFING SMITH." DJ Leila Mays played one of those songs almost two weeks later, and her public playlist helped lead to the realization that the session contained an unreleased tune.

Since the news of the session went viral, Muppala has been swift to try and set the record straight and give proper credit to Henry. That's because the session he uploaded to the digital archive didn't come directly from the MiniDisc Weisholtz sent him, but the copy of a CD copy Henry made in 2009. After Malitz's piece went live, Muppala wrote a humorous, scatterbrained post on WMUC's Tumblr explaining how the tracks got online and included a link to an edited version of the session. And the story keeps evolving: Muppala says that WMUC record librarian David Taylor is working on ripping the original session from the MiniDisc in order to obtain a higher quality version of the recording, and Muppala adds that Braid singer-guitarist Bob Nanna called the station to clarify that his band did not perform with Smith as Muppala's post indicates.

Discovery stories aside, Smith fans got their wish: a digital file of his WMUC show. Yet, it appears that new, slightly edited versions of that session dilute his set into listenable clips. (The above YouTube clip only contains the "Misery Let Me Down" cut, while the Click Track piece contains a slightly longer version with Smith introducing the tune saying "can I like warm up and play a song before we tape?") The reality of the performance is quite different.

"It's kind of a sad thing to listen to," Kropp says. Some on-air sets can be rough around the edges, but Smith's stripped-down show is messy to the core. He stumbled through the rest of the session after playing "Misery Let Me Down": He made two more attempts of "Division Day," a couple takes of "Say Yes," and also performed "Thirteen," "2:45 AM," and "Alameda." Along the way, you can hear him break-off mid-song, pause to fix his headphones, mumble, profusely apologize, and anxiously pick at his guitar. On Click Track, Third Rail Radio creator Eric Speck relates his impression of Smith, saying "He was SHOCKINGLY shy and it became clear he had on air jitters. He pretty much locked himself in the promotion office—alone—to tune and practice. He was super nice, but very sullen and soft spoken."

"I think he was wasted on cough syrup, this is how the story is told," Kropp says. In fact, between his first try at "Division Day" and "Misery Let Me Down," Smith mutters, "I just need to wake up. I took some Nyquil." That could also partly explain his erratic behavior during the session, and why "Misery Let Me Down" abruptly ends seemingly mid-song. Looking back on it, it's hard not to re-contextualize the event in regards to the painful personal issues Smith grappled with and his early death in 2003.

Needless to say, it's an interesting document, and perhaps one of many waiting to be dug up at WMUC. Muppala says there are plenty of recordings from now-legendary bands like Q And Not U sitting in the station, and he's heard rumors of a Fugazi MiniDisc floating around. "There's definitely more shocking MiniDiscs to be found," he says. And finds like the Elliott Smith session remind old WMUC members the joys of their own musical treasure hunts. "It's fun to see that happen, because everyone gets to relive that discovery," Kropp says. For Kropp, it's stories like these that help build a special mythos around the station. "It's like Hogwarts with music," he says.

(Editor's note: Usually there's a cool graphic to accompany this column. This week, due to some staff shortages and our impending Fall Arts Guide–out next Thursday!–we were unable create such a graphic. All the more reason to keep your eyes peeled for next week's edition.)

Far Out!                                                               Hot Dang!

The Cherch isn't a nightclub; it's a house. One of the criticisms extended was that there aren't enough shows at alternative spaces. This weekend alone that living room on New Jersey Avenue hosted eight bands. (Friday's show, an experimental showcase featuring former Lungfish guitarist had competition in the form of another house show at Mt. Pleasant's Crab's Claw.) Saturday's gathering featured three locals bands, none of whom sound alike. I take this as a good thing. A decade or two ago, there was a definite, identifiable D.C. sound: bands such as Fugazi, Jawbox, Dismemberment Plan and Black Eyes all created jagged songs with halting rhythms and emotional heft. Should the fact that the current crop of bands draws from wider influences be seen as negative?

He describes performances by the evening's local bands, singling out a bar-raising set by the proggy, polymathic Hume, during which "members of at least half a dozen bands stood slack-jawed":

And that's exactly the way a scene gets better. Not by people simply instructing bands on how to do things better or giving an interview saying what's wrong. Things get better when the people involved cram into some dude's living room and watch a band light it up.

The whole thing is worth your time. (Update | 10:13 a.m.: Sockets Records' Sean Peoples also has some thoughts. He's pumped!)

Related: Brightest Young Things invites Fan Death Records to its boat party, then posts the exchange, then reviews a Fan Death release. Fan Death's response to the invite:

no we are never going to any of your parties. Name dropping hawkwind isn’t going to help either. One of your dorky ass writers has a copy of the new Puerto Rico Flowers EP we put out. Review it, feature it or whatever it is you guys do.

In other news:

- The Corcoran's director of finance, David Dorsey, was found dead yesterday, naked on the balcony of his Adams Morgan home. CP Managing Editor Andrew Beaujon—citing some of the museum's other recent, and possibly iffy, activities—is getting a bit of an Agatha Cristie vibe from the whole thing.

The Cherch isn't a nightclub; it's a house. One of the criticisms extended was that there aren't enough shows at alternative spaces. This weekend alone that living room on New Jersey Avenue hosted eight bands. (Friday's show, an experimental showcase featuring former Lungfish guitarist had competition in the form of another house show at Mt. Pleasant's Crab's Claw.) Saturday's gathering featured three locals bands, none of whom sound alike. I take this as a good thing. A decade or two ago, there was a definite, identifiable D.C. sound: bands such as Fugazi, Jawbox, Dismemberment Plan and Black Eyes all created jagged songs with halting rhythms and emotional heft. Should the fact that the current crop of bands draws from wider influences be seen as negative?

- DCist has an excellent interview with local multi-instrumentalist and singer Matthew Hemerlein, whose Family Hemerlein show featuring "clean music and dirty comedy" takes places tonight at the Arts Club of Washington. I like this exchange:

What do you like listening to?

I’m not that into music right now. I only listen to what I have to. I tolerate music at best.

Pop music or all music?

I mean, I love music. I love it so much, but I don’t listen to as much as I used to.

But tonight we're manufacturing a rivalry—because there are no worthy basketball games to watch, because I wanted a reason to change out of my pajamas, and because Mark Williams invited us to do so. Malitz and I will square off over a set of turntables at Gate 54/St. Ex as part of the monthly DJ night Procedure.

If we can figure out how to work them, that is.

You are invited to have a beer and sit in close proximity to this epic showdown. You think that two-hour Joanna Newsom record is pretentious? We'll see how you feel after hearing Malitz play three straight hours of Felt b-sides. Did I mention there's no cover?

Procedure ft. David Malitz & Aaron Leitko
10 p.m., Free
Cafe Saint Ex
1847 14th Street, NW

(Photo: Valerie Paschall)

Financial crisis
Stalled too many customers
CEO no more.

Schwartz loses points for imagery but recoups on the kicker. Bonus point to Alison Flood for the headline.

*The Seattle Stranger's Charles Mudede conceives a cosmic explanation for the appeal of the blues. Basically, he says, the aab verse structure reminds us of the settling of the universe, galactic asymmetry, &c.; what he describes sounds like the prequel to "If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day."

*I don't watch Lost—no TV; bad internet connection—but thanks to the magic of Twitter, it's like I was there! Actually, it's a lot like that Family Guy episode in which Peter gets a job attending movies with blind people and describing the action to them, detail by excruciating detail.

*How's this for a man-bites-dog hed?

*The Brits get Alice in Wonderland a week and a half before we do.

*David Malitz doesn't just write about bands—he's in them, too! Check out "Here Comes Trouble," new single from the Cheniers. This shit goes straight to your temporal lobe!

*Newest supergroup: Mary J. Blige, Steve Vai, and Travis Barker.

*Second Dead Weather record could be out by April; it's "bluesier and heavier than we ever thought," Jack White tells Spin. The White Stripes' new film, Under the Great White Northern Lights, will show at SXSW in March.

The FTC has argued that this standard doesn't apply to traditional journalism outlets because "the newspaper receives the book and it allows the reviewer to review it, it's still the property of the newspaper."

It's an innocuous but offensive requirement, but I'm more interested in the FTC's imagined relationship between publishers and record labels and journalists and newspapers.

For one thing, the free CDs, books, and movies that come to the Washington City Paper come to individual journalists, not the paper, and if we like these cultural artifacts enough to review them, we often take them home with us and keep them, though we never ever say this in our reviews because no one gives a shit. In over a year here, I've never seen someone ask permission to take something home (though I have witnessed email fights over who gets to take what when supplies are limited).

Ergo, the boogeyman of unreported paid advertising is already happening. Music writers, for instance, do it for a living.  The New York Times doesn't let writers keep promos, but the Washington Post does. The great Robert Christgau even sold the stuff he doesn't like (according to my colleagues, this is still quite common and completely ethical).

And with regards to the future of music writing, where physical review copies are going the way of the podunk paper and its foreign bureau, things are about to get murkier. Will it still count as compensation if a label sends you a stream which you can access for a set amount of time for free, but which expires after two months? What if they send you files you can keep forever and ever–does the FTC have a system for tracking any of this? Does it have a system for measuring value? Is it going to raid WCP's offices now that I've admitted we get to keep all our promo shit?

The FTC's theory about how reviewing works sounds like imagined order at best, misguided favoritism at worst, and I hope to bring it up at the Future of Music Coalition's Policy Summit tomorrow, where I'll be a panelist on  "Critical Condition: The Future of Music Journalism," along with Maura Johnston of Idolator, Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune and NPR, WaPo's David Malitz, Tom Moon at NPR, Scott Plagenhoef of Pitchfork, Casey Rae-Hunter of the Future of Music Coalition (and frequent WCP contributor), and a few other superstars.

If you haven't heard about the summit, you should go to this website now. I meant to post on this sooner, as the FMC's panels are absolutely amazing. You can watch a live stream of the proceedings at the same link.