On May 16, Joe Lally will be hitting the road, opening his huge tour in Pittsburgh. He’s scheduled to play the Black Cat on May 28. Dischord has the dates. [Label needs to learn how to spell Pittsburgh correctly].

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.

Man. The New York Times has a pretty depressing story today on the state of the indie record store. Here’s the nugget you all should take away:

“Some 3,100 record stores around the country have closed since 2003, according to the Almighty Institute of Music Retail, a market research firm. And that’s not just the big boxes like the 89 Tower Records outlets that closed at the end of 2006; nearly half were independent shops. In Manhattan and Brooklyn at least 80 stores have shut down in the last five years.”

Well. We can do something about it. National Record Store Day hits this Saturday. A number of area shops are getting in on the action. Crooked Beat in Adams Morgan plans to mark the day with free grab bags of cool stuff. The first 50 paying customers will get bags stuffed with CDs, stickers, 7-inch singles, buttons, and posters.

One lucky customers will receive a bag containing a $20 gift certificate to the shop. Sounds like a good time as it always is at Crooked Beat.

So at least for one day, we should stop downloading, freeloading, and burning.

From Take Me Out To The GoGo Magazine:

“Robert Michael Reed -aka- Syke Dyke of Trouble Funk passed away at 10:42 last night of Pancreatic Cancer at the age of 50.

For those who don’t know, Dyke founded Trouble Funk in 1977. He served as musician and vocals for many Trouble Funk tunes…including probably one of his most notible signature rap delivery in the song “Pump Me Up.” Funeral Arrangements and info will be forthcoming…”

There’s lots more info on the message board.

Who knew Elmo dug the homegrown sound?

After hearing that the recent Kimya Dawson show at the Black Cat didn’t quite sell out, we thought maybe the Juno soundtrack phenomena had come and gone. Amazingly, the soundtrack is still holding its own among indie rock’s stalwarts. At least at Adams Morgan’s Crooked Beat. Here’s the store’s top ten sellers from March:

1. Stephen Malkmus - Real Emotional Trash
2. Vampire Weekend - s/t
3. Mountain Goats - Heretic Pride
4. Beach House - Devotion
5. Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely
6. Dirtbombs - We Have You Surrounded
7. Juno - Juno soundtrack
8. Mission of Burma - Signals, Calls & Marches
9. Magnetic Fields - Distortion
10. Destroyer - Trouble in Dreams

Postie Tom Sietsema, in a Sunday magazine feature, vents about the decibel levels at various restaurants. Early on, he checks his handy decibel counter and sees that the noise level is equal to a lawn mower. I have to say the piece resonated with me.

I am no fan of the loud restaurant. A few weeks ago, at a local organic fancy pizza shop, I had to endure hits from the ’80s blaring at top volume. No fun.

Last night at a coffee shop, I had to endure late ’90s emo. All I wanted to do was read my book.

But the real issue for me is that these places don’t seem to play any local music. Not once have I walked into a store, restaurant or coffee shop and heard Georgie James or the Evens or Trouble Funk or Rare Essence. [I know there are other worthy bands and musicians that I’m leaving out]. Granted, there are some bars that do a good job stocking their jukeboxes with local favorites. But for the most part, the local eateries blow off the local scene.

If they want to crank it up, they should at least keep some local albums on rotation!

WPFW (89.3) launched a new programming schedule yesterday. (Here’s a handy PDF you can print out). With just one day under their belt, Program Director Bobby Hill says things are going well. Sunday audiences got a taste with a huge bump in Latin music from 6 p.m. to midnight. Hill says the “phones were lit up the whole night.”

This might be a good sign for the rest of the schedule’s changes which seem partly inspired or fueled by City Paper! New segments or newish segments include a three minute comedy break [from 2:30-2:33 p.m. Monday through Friday) provided by former CP staffer Dave Nuttycombe. CP dynamo/savior/genius Sheila Reid will head up a forum on gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender issues the second Monday of each month from 7 to 8 p.m. And one of our longtime jazz critics John Murph will be spinning on Wednesdays from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m.

The schedule is also bumping up WPFW’s progressive hip-hop hour to the 10 p.m. slot Monday through Friday. And the station has included a daily news segment from 6 to 7 p.m. each weekday that will dedicate some time to local issues.

Pop Cesspool posts hilarious footage of Ricky Skaggs.

The Vinyl District provides MP3s of the Beatles‘ infamous rooftop session.

Dcist provides the news that a local shock jock is taking early retirement.

TMOTTGoGo’s message board surmises that Beyonce’s breath is stinky.

And Black Plastic Bag is clamoring for the No Age album to arrive in our inboxes. The single is super catchy.