If a band is getting tons of buzz, a grup will normally put on a skinny tie before heading to the show

As a follow-up to yesterday's computer-assisted investigative feature on D.C. grups (and their apparent reliance on Pitchfork), Washington City Paper decided to track down an actual grup and figure out what makes him tick. Matt Frost is married and lives in Virginia. He has a bunch of kids. Dismemberment Plan played a show in his basement once. He is a grup. This is his story.

Matt Frost: OK. I figured out how to turn this on.

Washington City Paper: Shit. I was just trying to find a way to invite you to chat.

This part of Google could be more intuitive!

Frost: I'm trying to dig up the old, seminal article about grups from one of those New York web mags.

Got it.

WCP: Yeah, that's "Up With Grups" by Adam Sternbergh! That is in the best of New York anthology sitting atop my shitter.

Since you are a grup, I think it's fitting that you open up with some thoughts. Maybe a confession, or some data.

Like, what makes you a grup?

Frost: OK. First, I'll qualify my self-identification. I'm not actually cool enough to be on, say, that GQ list.

But since "grup" is like "hipster" in that nobody will admit to being one, I thought calling myself one would inoculate me against actually being one.

Like, among my most-listened to albums from 2010 is Jakob Dylan's Women and Country. That's definitely not cool.

It's not even uncool in a cool way.

WCP: No, you are exactly right! There is no redeeming Jakob Dylan!

I was thinking maybe you were going to say the new Reba album, which is good country pop.

Frost: It's not a bold contrarian stroke, like Chuck Klosterman claiming that Chinese Democracy is actually good.

Right. That would be on another level.

Jakob Dylan is straight-up adult contemporary, but in the closet.

WCP: Well, Dylan aside, consider yourself inoculated against vicious attacks (from me)

Frost: So kind.

But I think there's a point to make about the hegemony of Pitchfork, which is that the people who like these bands aren't just all peers of one another—they are, more or less, peers of the musicians themselves.

I mean, the Walkmen went to St Alban's. Some of them have kids and moved from N.Y. to Philly.

That's the story with tons of people I know.

WCP: Oh, I like this idea.

Frost: So I don't think it's fair to say that the Pitchfork audience is a bunch of sheep, all engaged in mutual signaling.

WCP: I didn't mean to imply that! But, how many of the people polled by GQ could name 10 of the American Top 40?

One person told me he had heard one song from AT40.

Frost: Right. That's a good point.

But I think the uniformity of opinion emerges as much from commonalities between producers and consumers as among consumers.

WCP: Katy Perry didn't go to Columbia, and one could argue that her biggest fans didn't either.

Frost: The folks on that list probably would not have hung out with, say, Daughtry in high school.

WCP: Meanwhile, I don't know a single red-blooded American who actually likes Vampire Weekend!

I mean, when did this start? Is this a Velvet Underground thing?

Frost: Good question. Probably sooner. The idea that the rock star package included the role of "generational standard-bearer" came about in the '60s.

But the more subtle, fine-grained class identification came later.

WCP: You know why I've never thought about this? Because I grew up in St. Cloud, Florida.

But please, continue!

Frost: Hey—let's start calling Vampire Weekend "The" Vampire Weekend and see if it catches on?

WCP: Now you're just being antagonistic!

You sound like Terry Teachout describing "The" Family Guy!

Frost: (For the record, I like Vampire Weekend. It's something the whole family enjoys.)

WCP: My family is big into Paul Simon's Graceland, which is what Vampire Weekend is sucking the life out of every time they pick up their instruments.

Frost: So, yeah. Maybe rock star-to-audience solidarity started at the generational level. Then as audiences grew more fractured, the bonds of affinity between performer and audience followed?

WCP: Well, did they? People seem really into their bands nowadays.

I was just grooving on this idea of educated and/or wealthy people listening to the shit they find on Pitchfork, and everybody else listening to FM radio.

Frost: Reihan Salam has a few good references and quotes about the myth of eclecticism, and how people think they are culturally omnivorous, but they really build their consumption profile via exclusion.

WCP: Of course we do! I will not listen to the Beatles or the Stones.

I just won't.

Frost: Ha ha.

WCP: And yet I still consider myself well rounded musically

Frost: Wait. Really?

WCP: Yes, really.

I will not be a reverse grup

Frost: That's hard core.

The question of Pitchfork being the FM radio of the cultural vanguard is pretty good.

Part of the problem is the search costs of new music.

Unless you're really into the cool-hunting process, you are going to need some trusted source to vet cultural products and present them to you.

So whether that's the FM radio or Pitchfork, you're still just getting a highly filtered stream of material.

But...

It's hard to really quantify how much is "out there."

So our intuitions about how much we're missing might be totally wrong.

WCP: Well, we have some tools. (One of which I am looking for!)

Frost: What if there really are only a handful of ways for a civilian like me to be "way into music."

WCP: Or what if there are only a handful of convenient ways?

Frost: Yeah, that's the "civilian" distinction I'm making.

WCP: As opposed to a tenured ethnomusicologist!

All of this, btw, runs up against the grup theory.

Frost: I knew a guy in school who was always turning us on to new (and old) stuff. He now has a really great label that cranks out equal parts old obscure craziness and new indie stuff. But he learned at an early age how to scour used bins, chat up record store clerks, etc.

How so? (I think I know, but)

WCP: Well, if a) many grups are actually following bands staffed by people in their age range and b) it would be exceedingly difficult for grups to join another "tribe" of listeners, then how is being 30 and liking The National a) their fault or b) a bad thing?

Frost: Yes! The sorting is almost inevitable, once you look at it that way.

WCP: Well, I feel like an asshole now.

And I just realized: There's more to the grup thing than music!

Frost: Now you're talking.

WCP: There are the iPods, the jeans, the hairstyles, the living in lofts with their babies in hammocks 8 feet off the floor.

All that shit is part of being a grup, too.

Matt: I think that's more Brooklyn-specific.

Making your baby wear a Misfits shirt is still cooler than worrying that having a baby will cramp your style.

WCP: Hmm, yes, being alternadad versus being an uncle!

Frost: Anyway, I think the Pitchfork grups that you ragged on today are a symptom of a cultural ecosystem that 1) prizes eclecticism and omnivorous consumption, BUT 2) is not as porous as we think it is.

WCP: I like where this is going

Frost: We think we enjoy a groovy pomo buffet of cultural offerings, and there are these master semionauts like the Beastie Boys and Kanye West who can sample like crazy, but for your average listener to really traverse the different cultural stovepipes is difficult and rare.

WCP: SAMPLES. I have no idea where my favorite ones come from. And I read about music A LOT.

You know what else is like this? Covers!

I went to college with guys who thought that Dave Matthews wrote All Along the Watch Tower

Frost: Ouch. I was just about to suggest that covers are an easier hierarchy for audiences to situate themselves in, but then there's that guy.

And ha ha, everybody knows that Jimi Hendrix wrote that song!

Let me go switch the laundry. BRB

WCP: Ha. OK!

Frost: DJs who build beats and dig up samples are busy with their own arms race of obscurity and cool. Way over my head.

But then that Girl Talk guy comes along and brings it down to a popular level, and everyone's all SQUEEEEEEEE! THIS IS THE BEST WEDDING DJ EVAR!!!!!!!

WCP: You asshole.

Frost: But really—did any of us need to be reminded of Onyx?

WCP: I have some Girl Talk on my computer.

Mainly because it's easy to collect music even if I don't want to listen to it.

Frost: Me too! It's free! And maybe against the law! So get it before they lock that guy up!

WCP: Here's what I don't understand: Why is it OK for my cool friends to like Girl Talk, which is mashed up FM hits from the last 30 years, but I can't listen to Matchbox 20?

It's like, selectively upgrading cultural artifacts.

Frost: Yeah, ironic distance is everything.

WCP: But here's the thing: I like all the artists Girl Talk samples. I grew up listening to the radio. I listened to pop radio stations when I did my homework in middle school and high school.

I'm not being ironic when I say I like the artists GT samples.

Why must we french our secret loves with acid tongues?

Frost: I decided when I was 12 that I was too cool for top 40, and switched to classic rock radio.

The notion of the "guilty pleasure" is so prominent.

WCP: Where did you come from that 12-year-olds worried about being hip?

(Mind you, in central florida our guiding light was Total Request Live.)

Frost: I think we just decided that Duran Duran were too foppy.

It's like what [Ta-Nehisi Coates] said about Prince the other day.

It takes a certain maturity for young dudes to rock out to dudes in eyeliner.

WCP: COUNTERPOINT: How do you explain sentimentalists from the suburbs putting on fishnets and listening to My Chemical Romance?

Is that like, emotional maturity?

Or maybe, "adult feelings" manifesting in less than adult ways.

Frost: Um, that's not on my radar, as they say. I'd have to google My Chemical Romance.

WCP: Oh shit! That's awesome!

You haven't heard of My Chemical Romance!

Ha. That is so cool.

And weird.

Frost: No. Hip me.

I have, like, seven minutes to get with it before I have to pack it in.

WCP: Haha, you are a dad

Frost: Are they "beatniks?"

WCP: My Chemical Romance are emo kids. Lots of makeup, loud guitars, with lyrics about being a sad bitch.

I love them.

Very, very much.

Frost: OK. I can guess the rest.

WCP: Go do dad stuff.

Frost: Yeah, I have Christmas cookies to wrap up. For real.

WCP: I have some weed to smoke.

This has been fun!

Matt Frost everybody!

Frost: Word!

Hi mom, how's Washington? (image via Ink 19)

Good morning, D.C.! Yesterday, one of the District's most favoritest bands announced a five-date reunion tour for early 2011. Predictably, the Internet lost its shit over the thought of the Dismemberment Plan playing "Pay for the Piano" (for real, it's a great song). What a Monday!

In slightly less important news, someone from What Not to Wear was here to rescue government denizens from their ill-fitting khakis. Apparently, it's really hard to walk around here in heels, so Stacy London and her entourage got a ride. Psh.

The MidCity Arts District branding is ruffling some feathers, and there's lots of pretty pictures from both Vampire Weekend's performance at Merriweather and Double Dagger's show at Comet Ping Pong. Here on Arts Desk, we've got three songs for slowly walking away from an explosion, and our own recap of Stacy London's presence.

Oh, I heard there's an election or something today, but I'm too busy listening to Emergency & I on repeat to be bothered! Have a good primary Tuesday!

*Sundance starts today! Briefly noted: Film on Proposition 8, Mormons screens in Utah(!); Banksy paints the town in anticipation of Exit Through the Giftshop; Nowhere Boy, film on John Lennon's adolescence, to screen (video); this year's judges include Karyn Kusama and Parker Posey; Snoop Dogg, Nas, and Slightly Stoopid to perform; James Franco plays Allen Ginsberg in Howl (more of a stretch than David Cross, methinks); the Boston Globe tackles last year's best shorts; the Salt Lake City Tribune spends 9 graphs explaining why we shouldn't try to predict "buzz" films, predicts 6 "buzz films."

*ON SALE NOW: Hitherto unseen Lucian Freud self-portrait now on market. And it's a steal: "It is only the third time a self-portrait of Freud, now 87, has become available through an auction and it is expected to fetch between £3m and £4m when Sotheby’s sells it next month," the Independent reports.

*MGMT releases new record, Celebration, sans single. "Does this make the band the new Led Zeppelin?" asks the Guardian. And less irrelevantly: Will this shut Celebration out of iTunes?

*After Billboard predicted last week that Vampire Weekend's Contra was "on track to have U.S. No. 1 album," certain individuals declared the "mainstreaming of indie" complete. Now, the Times reports that the band's second record has moved 124,000 units, seizing the number one spot over...Susan Boyle, who sold ca. 77k. Trailing those two is Ke$ha (67k). Someone get these three onstage together—we could smash more YouTube records than those baby videos!

*The LA Times' Todd Martin declares Eminem's Relapse a shoo-in for the Grammy; 94% of readers agree, putting Em over Common, Q-Tip, Mos Def, and Flo Rida. If Martin's right, I'll be about as bummed as I could be about any Grammy. (Which is to say, mildly; my take on the record here.)

*In this week’s paper, hitting streets today: Reviews of Imperial China, Major Stars, Myra Melford, Creation (the new Chas. Darwin biopic starring Paul Bettany and Jennifer Connelly), and a three-fer of theater reviews: Stick Fly, In the Red and Brown Water, and I Am My Own Wife.

He could feel her heart beneath his hands. He moved his hands slowly lower still and she arched her back to help him and her lower leg came against his. He held her breasts in his hands. Oddly, he thought, the lower one might be larger. . . . One of her breasts now hung loosely in his hand near his face and he knew not how best to touch her.

...which is about the only sex scene we can excerpt, in good conscience, on a family blog. (The rest involve underage females and, apparently, deer.)

*Michael Billington on Antonia Fraser's memoir about her marriage with Harold Pinter: "The most intimate portrait of a contemporary dramatist I have ever read."

*Candide turns 250.

*Does the Burj Khalifa rip off Frank Lloyd Wright's design for 'Mile-High Illinois'? Pretty much, yes.

*Jimmy Kimmel wears fake chin; Tonight Show feud boosts NBC ratings.

*RJD2 gets kinda cocky with the AV Club.

*Discuss: Whose reaction to the Port au Prince earthquake is more tasteless: Pat "Haiti Had a Pact With the Devil" Robertson or Rush "Light-Skinned and Dark-Skinned Black Community" Limbaugh?

*In this week's paper, hitting streets today: Reviews of OK Go, Felt Letters, The Lovely Bones, and Police, Adjective. Plus, an interactive hard copy of the Vampire Weekend Drinking Game.

Arlington: Why do you love Death Race so much?

Good morning, Washington metro area! Your taste in movies is really, really boring!

Over the weekend, the New York Times posted a fascinating map of Netflix rental patterns by zip code in 12 American cities. The Washington region's (actually, every region's) No. 1 DVD rental from the service in 2009 was The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, David Fincher's long, snoozy, existential overinflation of a pithy, social-satirical short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It starred Brad Pitt, it was total Oscar bait, and its domestic take fell just short of its $250 million production budget (although it earned another $206 million overseas). Also, it was kind of like that other movie its screenwriter penned, and, with its Southern Gothic patina and extremely convincing CGI, looked really pretty. But seriously: zzzzzzz. (I wrote a positive, if cautious, review here.)

The next most popular rental nationwide was Changeling, which was overacted, overdirected, overscripted, and overscored—in other words, it was a film by Clint Eastwood. (To be fair, he's made a number of great, maybe even epochal, movies this decade, especially Mystic River.)

DCist has some thoughts, and Greater Greater Washington has a great analysis of the map that looks at the divide in taste between the area's majority-black and majority-white zip codes, as well as differences in the preferences of urban and suburban Netflix subscribers.

A few observations after the jump:

• Are Oscar nominees rented more than purchased? Or do Netflix members just not dig summer blockbusters? Which is to say: Why doesn't this map hew closer to the top-selling DVDs of 2009, on which films like Benjamin Button don't perform especially well? My gut reaction is that the Oscars may not be as irrelevant as they often feel–all five 2009 Best-Picture nominees do well on the map. But I think the bigger factor is age: Netflix viewers are clearly older than the average moviegoer—a fact still that hasn't stopped Twilight from coming in No. 6 nationwide among Netflix users.
• Clearly, the zip code with the strangest taste is 20701, which is the area around Annapolis Junction, Md. Its top-rented film was The Beales of Grey Gardens, which as far as I know isn't even a real movie: It contains leftover footage shot for the Maysles Brothers' influential documentary Grey Gardens. Also big in that area's queue: the music docs Made in Sheffield (No. 4) and Lee Ritenour: Live in Montreal with Special Guests (No. 8). Rock on, 20701!
• Biggest performer in Washington City Paper's zip code, and indeed much of Northwest: Milk.
• The Day the Earth Stood Still—the original!—somehow made the top 100.
• So did Fireproof, a drama produced by the Evangelical Sherwood Baptist Church in Georgia, starring that guy from Growing Pains. The film was the highest grossing independent film of 2008.
• The only foreign-language film in the top 100 (other than the mostlyEnglish-language Slumdog Millionaire): I've Loved You So Long.
• The D.C. area's tastes aren't especially different—or more interesting—than other cities'.
• Seven Pounds was a really, really terrible movie.

(Disclosure: I freelance for the New York Times' T Magazine blog.)

IN OTHER NEWS!

- Theatre Du Jour has postponed its performance of The Zoo Story by Edward Albee, according to DC Theatre Scene.

- Pics of the No Pants Metro Ride at DCist and WaPo.

- Noz posts a great go-go documentary from the late '80s.

- Love for Vampire Weekend.

- Conan O'Brien: Will he stay or will he go? Either way, the Chicago Sun-Times reports, he'll make serious bank.

- Song of the day! Basia Bulat's "Gold Rush":

1. Boozing Along to Contra: The Vampire Weekend Drinking Game!
2. Teddy Afro, Ethiopia's Bob Marley, at the Armory Saturday
3. Arts Roundup: Are Vampire Weekend Jerks? Edition
4. New Songs for 2010: Free Music from Wale, XO, and Future Times
5. Critical Appreciation: Robert H. Smith, Arts Patron

- Local rapper Don Juan is live—right now.

- The Smithsonian had 30 million visits in 2009, the Washington Post reports.

- City Paper contributor Sarah Godfrey interviews D.C. rapper Lola Monroe over at Click Track. Monroe used to model in urban skin magazines and music videos, but she says she's focused solely on music now. Grab Untouchables, her recent mixtape with Lil' Boosie, here.

- Corgan Watch! Evidently, Smashing Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan still has pretty good taste. He's starting a record label that will release music from the remaining members of the Germs, as well as '60s psych acts the Electric Prunes and Strawberry Alarm Clock.

- Damn the haters: The members of Vampire Weekend are not privileged or Waspy or cultural imperialists, they say! (The Vampire Weekend drinking game notwithstanding!) From a profile in the Guardian:

Koenig, however, is generous in understanding how the band have come to be perceived in the way they have. "Because we favour certain ways of dressing and don't shy away from using obscure words and we went to Columbia University, people have put all the elements together and prejudged us as privileged white kids, even using the word 'Wasp', which immediately implies privilege," he says. "Those things, juxtaposed with our interest in world music, have made it very easy for people to raise the flag of colonialism or imperialism. But the two main writers in the band are Jewish and Persian, which is a pretty broad definition of 'whiteness'. We're certainly not all fresh off the Mayflower."

Koenig has a theory that his most ardent detractors – "mostly," he guesses, "white, college-educated critics" – are just using Vampire Weekend for some easy point-scoring. "They don't often get the chance to be activists, so when they see us come along, it provides them with a brilliantly simple opportunity to be activists: 'This is an outrage! These people are exploitative!' Of course people should be on guard for exploitation, but ..." Their argument has one tiny flaw, Koenig suggests: "They're attacking a version of us that doesn't actually exist – the myth of Vampire Weekend."

Koenig, however, is generous in understanding how the band have come to be perceived in the way they have. "Because we favour certain ways of dressing and don't shy away from using obscure words and we went to Columbia University, people have put all the elements together and prejudged us as privileged white kids, even using the word 'Wasp', which immediately implies privilege," he says. "Those things, juxtaposed with our interest in world music, have made it very easy for people to raise the flag of colonialism or imperialism. But the two main writers in the band are Jewish and Persian, which is a pretty broad definition of 'whiteness'. We're certainly not all fresh off the Mayflower."

Koenig has a theory that his most ardent detractors – "mostly," he guesses, "white, college-educated critics" – are just using Vampire Weekend for some easy point-scoring. "They don't often get the chance to be activists, so when they see us come along, it provides them with a brilliantly simple opportunity to be activists: 'This is an outrage! These people are exploitative!' Of course people should be on guard for exploitation, but ..." Their argument has one tiny flaw, Koenig suggests: "They're attacking a version of us that doesn't actually exist – the myth of Vampire Weekend."

- Of Montreal added some last-minute tour dates: The trippy indie-poppers perform at the 9:30 Club on Jan. 28.

-Russell!

- Because we have yet to meet our indie-rock quota. A new Animal Collective video:

Next week brings the release of Contra, the much-anticipated follow-up to Vampire Weekend's eponymous 2008 breakthrough—and we'd bet our balaclavas most of you will listen to it in sobriety and solitude. Actually, chances are that, unless you were totally over the band by the time their first record dropped, you've already streamed the thing on MySpace. In which case, you're already noting new layers of collegiate cheek, from the self-parodic wordplay of "Horchata," the opening track, to the half-popped collar on the Ralph Lauren polo worn by a distracted-looking co-ed on the album cover.

That irony-on-the-sleeve approach is mainly a wink at the haters—and mebbe a gimmick to avoid being, you know, just another boring white band. But we've devised another way to rescue these Afro-poppers from the tedium of hype: the Vampire Weekend Drinking Game!

First, acquire flagons of Campari, Chartreuse, Pimm's products, and PBR.

Then, take a shot for every member of your party wearing boat shoes or scarves.

Ready? OK! Just set your stereo, record player, or hard drive a-spinning, and...

Sip Your Beer for any of the following:

• Any unnecessary grammatical puns or explicit references to conventions of punctuation.
• Any song featuring erudite name-drops.
• Any song conspicuously bereft of erudite name-drops.
• Instances of sartorial concerns (shoes, sweaters, balaclavas).
• Instances where it sounds like David Longstreth is sitting in as sideman.
• Any mention of a watering hole.
  
• Marimbas.

Chug Your Beer for any of the following:

After the interview, he led the band into a conference room with a flat-screen TV and launched into a long pitch for an Internet project he was working on – “a prepackaged Web site” for bands, called Modlife. “I term it an ‘operating system,’” DeLonge said. “You could sell music, you could sell movies, you could sell advance tickets, you could do advertising, you could do automated V.I.P. parties. We’re gonna be putting in live auctions, e-commerce.” He continued, “We’re doing it with the White Stripes.” He said Vampire Weekend could do all of its business through Modlife, with the Web site taking twenty-five per cent of the profits. He demonstrated a video chat-room function by talking to a group of his Fans: “Hey, everybody, I’m doing a demonstration with Vampire Weekend. If you want Vampire Weekend to be on Modlife, say ‘Yes!’” The chat-room users started responding: “Yes!” “Yes!” “Yes!” One wrote, “No!”

DeLonge ignored it, and talked about video blogging: “Do you want to do normal blogs – or do you want to do it in the dark and have lasers going and make it look like you’re from space? And not call it a blog, call it a space cam?” He asked, what have you guys been doing for a Web site?”

“Three out of four of us are on Twitter,” Batmanglij said. DeLonge shook his head. “I don’t want to be freaking on the money part,” he said. “But you guys know and I know that you’re trying to live in an industry that’s dying. And so Modlife is trying to give you the chance to survive.” Then he screened a trailer for a movie that his new band, Angels & Airwaves had produced, called “Love” – images of an astronaut in a space station over swelling music.

Batmanglij started giggling, and DeLonge turned and looked at him.

“Uh, I just thought of something fun that we could do with our band,” he said.

“That’s rad,” DeLonge said evenly. “Cool.”

The Vampire Weekend members got up to leave. DeLonge shook their hands and said, “Consider this stuff.” Then he asked, “Why are you guys so mellow?”

“Three out of four of us are on Twitter,” [member Rostam] Batmanglij said. DeLonge shook his head. “I don’t want to be freaking on the money part,” he said. “But you guys know and I know that you’re trying to live in an industry that’s dying. And so Modlife is trying to give you the chance to survive.” Then he screened a trailer for a movie that his new band, Angels & Airwaves had produced, called “Love” – images of an astronaut in a space station over swelling music.

Batmanglij started giggling, and DeLonge turned and looked at him.

“Uh, I just thought of something fun that we could do with our band,” he said.

“That’s rad,” DeLonge said evenly. “Cool.”

The Vampire Weekend members got up to leave. DeLonge shook their hands and said, “Consider this stuff.” Then he asked, “Why are you guys so mellow?”

- Several D.C. residents are planning and curating Done & Done Festival, which will "celebrate the continuing ascent of NY and DC's underground music scenes," according to the festival's Tumblr. In an e-mail, organizers Erin McAuliff, Patrick Kigongo (of Ra Ra Rasputin and the State Department), and Matty Taylor (of Tennis System) wrote that they're currently booking bands and venues, and seeking sponsors. The festival will take place over two Saturdays in April, at venues here and in New York. The organizers said to expect an official announcement in February.

- A few D.C. names are playing Aural States Fest at the end of the month in Baltimore, including Benjy Ferree, Office of Future Plans, and True Womanhood.

- The L.A. Times' Patrick Goldstein on why conservatives hate Avatar. Also: the rationalism of the Na'vi.

- Semirelated: WaPo's Anne Midgette on the "red states" and "blues states" of the classical-musical world.

Western pop music, says producer Johan Karlberg, "wouldn't be the same if we weren’t influenced by African or Middle Eastern music. But if you argue too much about these things, you’re thinking too hard and not listening."

Karlberg is Swedish, Etienne Tron (his partner in the production duo Radioclit) is French, singer Esau Mwamwaya is Malawian, and all three live in London and work together as the Very Best. On a buzz-generating mixtape last year, the trio collaborated with indie rockers who draw from African pop styles like highlife and soukous (Vampire Weekend and the Ruby Suns) and a pair of alt-minded rappers with world-spanning tastes (M.I.A. and Santigold). Mwamwaya sang in at least four languages. And Radioclit took samples from as diverse sources as Architecture in Helsinki, Hans Zimmer, Cannibal Ox, and the Free Willy theme song.

So the Very Best—which performs tonight at DC9 with Javelin—has heard plenty of arguments about globalization and appropriation and authenticity, and could probably debate them all day. But the more you intellectualize music, Karlberg says, the more meaningless it can become. Life's too short not to dance.

And not just dance, but smile.

"The Very Best is our sunshine project," Karlberg, 27, says. "Esau came along at a time when we were a little fed up with darker music and with club music. I’m really happy about it because if you bring something positive to music, people will get that—that’s a really good thing to be able to do with music."

As Radioclit, Karlberg and Tron make what they call "ghetto-pop," a gloomy, trance-y blend of U.K grime, American hip-hop (they seem especially taken by Dirty South), and whatever African dance style has their attention at the moment. For a recent mix, Karlberg said, he and Tron explored the Ivorian Coupé-Décalé style.

The new Very Best album, Warm Heart of Africa, is as eclectic as Radioclit but far more upbeat. And unlike their concoctions as Radioclit, Karlberg and Tron's Very Best beats don't brood in the foreground, instead allowing room for Mwamwaya's exuberant, space-filling vocals. "Esau’s almost like a big instrument," Karlberg says. "So we held back on the production, keeping it really minimal, and he brought out the best out of it."

"The only thing we didn’t want to do was make a straight African album," Karlberg says, even though "there’s obviously African music in some of the tracks more than others." "Nsokoto," notably, simulates thumb pianos and has a call-and-response chorus, while the title track, featuring Vampire Weekend's Ezra Koenig, samples the Nigerian musician Victor Uwaifo's sunny 1966 hit "Guitar Boy and Mamiwater." Elsewhere on Warm Heart of Africa, there are bottom notes of Caribbean music, synth pop, jungle, and grime, among other styles. The album shares its title with a slogan from a Malawian tourism campaign, but its sound is hardly continent-bound.

The Very Best came together in 2006, not long after Tron walked into the second-hand shop Mwamwaya owned, which happened to sit on the same East London street as Radioclit's studio. When Karlberg and Tron heard that Mwamwaya had played percussion in a band in Malawi, they invited him to collaborate—and quickly discovered his talents as a vocalist. They recorded the song "Chalo" that day.

For the next two years, "Esau would come in as often as he could, and normally he’d pick up a few beats, write at home, come in and record the song," Karlberg says. "Most of the tracks were done in a day or two, tops. We had tracks we worked on for several weeks, but usually scrapped them because we felt they were overworked."

Just as listeners shouldn't always think too hard about music, Karlberg says, neither should producers. "A lot of the time I work on music, the best things happen very quickly and intuitively," he says. "A lot of people say ‘If something doesn’t work in an hour, it doesn’t work.'"

The Very Best performs with Javelin at DC9 tonight at 8:30 p.m. Tickets are $10. Photo courtesy of the Very Best's MySpace page.