Black Plastic Bag is expanding its stable of music writers. We’re looking for locals who can riff on albums, give our readers a heads-up on shows, bring the news, tell a good joke, and generally help us tell the story of the D.C. music scene. Interested? If so, show us what you’ve got—drop a line to blackplasticbag@washingtoncitypaper.com letting us know what you’d contribute to the ‘Bag. Include links to a few samples of your work—print, Web, blog, vlog, podcast, whatever you have, we want to see it.

In Sunday’s Washington Post, Jason Cherkis checks in again with Jack Carneal, the Malian music enthusiast and label owner of Baltimore’s Yaala Yaala.

Cherkis and I tackled Carneal’s first trio of recordings almost a year ago in City Paper (“Griot Grand” and “Interview with Jack Carneal”).

Now Carneal’s got a fourth Yaala Yaala disc, a self-titled release from Yoro Sidibe, a Malian hunter and musician who is “around 70.” The album came out last week.

According to Drag City, the Chicago label that distributes Yaala Yaala, “the grooves are as uplifting as any pep talk could be. They’re low and hypnotic — and after an hour of them shaking and rattling, you too will be loose and ready for what may.”

Given that there’s no music on Yaala Yaala’s MySpace page, we’ll just have to take their word for it.

In this week’s New Yorker, staff writer Burkhard Bilger has a good article about American folk music. It’s not online, but it’s worth seeking out.

Not only does he interview Frederick, MD’s Joe Bussard, a 78 collector who has been the subject of several Washington City Paper features (Eddie Dean’s and Andrew Beaujon’s), but he also makes some worthwhile points about American folk music and its pursuit (whether by collectors or those making field recordings).

Most interesting to me—especially having grown up around adults who, in the ‘70s and ‘80s, were still in the thrall of the fifties folk revival—is how many of those musicians, such as Robert Johnson, who—especially since the ‘60s—has been written about in mythical, almost god-like terms, owe their legend to serendipity.

Bilger writes:

“Fame in folk music can be less a matter of talent than of opportunity, [down-to-Earth folk revivalist Art Rosenbaum] said. People talk about the Delta blues because Charley Patton and Robert Johnson were from Mississippi. But if H.C. Speir hadn’t opened his music store in Jackson we might talk about Georgia Blues instead.”

And then there’s the whole issue of authenticity—finding artists untouched by the modern world. This is like manna for folk-hunters. (When Leadbelly came to New York, Bilger writes, noted folklorist John Lomax “told him to put on prison stripes.”) But Bilger notes that even some of ye olde biggies might not stand up to present-day standards:

“When John Lomax first recorded the blues, the genre was newer than hip-hop is today, and both Leadbelly and Robert Johnson learned songs from records.”

None of this invalidates a good song (and Johnson, especially, wrote quite a few), but it would seem to invalidate the collecting and compiling concept that anything that’s old and, um, folky is worth transferring and cleaning up. Some recordings you’ve never heard of because they just weren’t very good.

Last week, Plug Research released D.C. electronica duo Chessie’s latest, Manifest, a full-length that San Francisco’s influential Aquarius Records says is both “very highly recommended” and “one which will no doubt be on [lots] of folks 2008 top ten lists!”

Mark Jenkins wrote a City Paper feature on the train enthusiasts in November 2001.

Here’s an excerpt:

Chessie’s new label, Plug Research, calls the duo’s music “a swirling, indistinct realm of sonic abstraction with influences ranging from the Beach Boys to My Bloody Valentine and Satie.” My Bloody Valentine is a longstanding model, and anyone looking for Satie need only play Meet’s “Katy (For Satie).” The Beach Boys, though, are less immediately evident in Chessie’s style.

It’s “more in theory than in sound,” Gardner explains. “Sure, Pet Sounds is a big influence to me—and everyone else in the freakin’ universe making records at the moment. It’s not particularly interesting or revealing to say that. Except that I really am still profoundly moved by the care and detail devoted to sound beyond the composition and lyrical content. I feel like that record opened up a whole new dimension of pop music. I’m still inspired by that.”

At the duo’s MySpace page, you can hear what Stephen Gardner and Ben Bailes are up to now.

‘Snice.

On Monday, a day before its official release, I finally received a promo copy of PJ Harvey’s mediocre new album, White Chalk. This promo arrived two and a half months after the album’s release date was announced, one month after I first requested it from the singer-songwriter’s PR firm, and ten days after the same firm told my editor that Harvey’s label, Island, would be mailing promo copies on September 25th.

The package I received was postmarked September 28th.

This incident wouldn’t be such a big deal if it were isolated. But it’s not. Back in the ‘90s, when I started writing about music, major-label PR folks would either be impossible to reach, or they would be competent and professional. But they would never, ever just string me along. Nowadays, the attitude toward anyone who isn’t calling from the New York Times, Rolling Stone, or—chrissakes—Pitchfork is one that is most generously described as arms-length.

This, of course, has everything to do with what one of my colleagues describes as “leak culture,” something that didn’t exist back in November 2000 when WCP ran its last Harvey review. The maddening thing is, I don’t steal music off the Web. Anyone with loose ethics and a good Internet connection can get way more free music than I ever receive in the mail. Major labels, it seems, expect music fans to steal, which is just another reason why they treat you so poorly if you’re not calling from New York Times, Rolling Stone, or—chrissakes—Pitchfork.

Alt-weeklies might be bearing the brunt of this. They certainly can’t beat the blogosphere for the refresh-button newness of “leak culture.” Neither can they turn around, say, a 1,200 word PJ Harvey review in just one day.

I was never one to buy into the sentiment on the old SST bumper sticker that said “Corporate Rock Still Sucks.” (I’ll take Hüsker Dü’s Warehouse Songs and Stories over Zen Arcade any day of the week.) But, given that I’m not going to go trawling for leaks that major labels say they don’t want me to hear, what other conclusion is there?

As a fan of edited writing, I’m less enamored with blogging than most. Folks get upset when you talk in undemocratic terms, but I’m just not sure that good bloggers wouldn’t have become good print writers.

Which makes the self-mythologizing that much harder to stomach. For example, imagine an MSM type (or, since this is a music blog, a music critic) saying the following about himself:

“People need something to believe in. And if they can believe in you [blogger Gina Cooper], then they can believe in themselves.”

This quote comes from a less-than-cynical Washington Post review of Matt Bai’s new book about the netroots movement, The Argument.

Some have equated bloggers with the old pamphleteers, but, to me, this just seems like another incremental step in the constant churn of new technology. Nineteenth-century critics complained about the proliferation of newspapers in similar terms, as if too much opportunity meant that everyone would suddenly take up the pen.

Seems like you could say the same thing about a sporting goods store. Is the mass availability of golf clubs going to take anything away from someone who’s good enough to go pro?

Former CP critic Michael Little has decided to go after this blog. He writes on his own blog:

“We’ve been reading the Washington City Paper’s music blog lately. It’s mediocre, and we’re not saying that because the City Paper unceremoniously fired our ass and because we could write a better and more entertaining blog with our asshole.”

Little goes on to write:

“Still, the blog’s posts are nothing but unpaid advertising for forthcoming shows, the too-be-expected but still odious tips of the old knit cap to Fugazi, and pats on CP’s own back for a job well done. That said, Joe Warminsky does step away from the Dischord Party Line long enough to say a kind word about Brother JT, which is something.

Still, it’s a nothing read.

Never a mad word from the paper that dares nothing.”

Little, readers may recall, wrote an infamous cover story slamming Fugazi as ruining just about everything in this town. Why? They didn’t rock like it’s ‘77, man. In other words, the story was a pile of shit. (We know we’re deep in a game of insider baseball here, but read this for more on Little’s history with CP.)

Little’s own blog dares so much! Here are some sample words of wisdom (we will spare you his hilarious interview with Hitler):

“We fall in love with Led Zeppelin a little more every day.”

“Jimmy Page is the only human we know who can make his guitar sneer.”

“Mom, please drink your marijuana tea. And while you’re drinking it, be sure to listen to side two of Wake of the Flood by the Grateful Dead. It will bang your gong, dude.”

In October Da Capo Press, publishers of this book among many other fine music-related tomes, will release Best Music Writing 2007, edited by Robert Christgau. The book, we’re happy to report, features one of our own: among the pieces that made the cut is “Multiple Personality Disorder,” a piece on irrepressible local MC Multiple Man written by contributor and former staff writer Sarah Godfrey.

Two City Paper contributors made the longlist for pieces in other outlets: Nick Green’s “Invisible Oranges,” which ran in Decibel, and Ben Westhoff’s “Private Enemy,” which ran in the Village Voice.

Don’t drink but don’t want to feel like a one-person temperance society? Bob Mould has a few tips in this week’s column. Keep those questions coming.

Chingo Bling’s situation is “stickier than molten queso fundido,” writes David Dunlap Jr. in his review of the Houston MC’s major-label debut, They Can’t Deport Us All. Chingo Bling has a solid rep in H-Town’s hip-hop scene, working with Chamillionaire, Paul Wall, and others, but Hispanicized rap parodies and critiques of immigration policies might not make for a rap star. Read Dunlap’s review here.

Aaron Leitko wasn’t a fan of Travis Morrison’s previous solo album, 2004’s Travistan, and he wasn’t alone; Pitchfork famously dismissed it with a 0.0 rating. But Leitko says the former Dismemberment Plan frontman is in much better form on his new album, All Y’All, recorded with his new band, the Hellfighters. Read the review here and listen to a stream of the album here.

If you’re a regular reader of Cheap Seats and City Desk, you might remember the Points as the house band at the now-defunct Shaw skate park, Fight Club. The band plays the Rock and Roll Hotel’s first anniversary blowout on Saturday, and in One Track Mind Justin Moyer talks with drummer Travis Jackson about the Points song “Rock n Roll No Rules,” which you can listen to here.

(Speaking of the Rock and Roll Hotel, in the spring the club’s owner, Joe Englert, gave a few local third-graders a tour of the place, as well as a few other joints in the rapidly gentrifying club district. Read about it in this week’s Show & Tell.)

Plus our picks for the week: Michael J. West on “breakbeat jazz” maestro Mocean Worker, Friday at the 9:30 Club; Jason Cherkis on atmospheric Baltimore duo Beach House, Sunday at the Rock and Roll Hotel; Maggie Serota on Sonic Boom’s post-Spacemen 3 project, Spectrum, Sunday at the Black Cat; Matthew Borlik on Chicago give-the-drummer-some-more trio Mass Shivers, Wednesday at the Velvet Lounge; and Cherkis on Philly noise-rockers Clockcleaner, Thursday at the Black Cat.

In the District Line, Jason Cherkis checks in with DJ Roland Tolbert, a regular fixture on the decks on O Street SW this summer. “Tolbert has been spinning on the block for five years,” Cherkis writes. It’s no easy task in a neighborhood where the competition for air time is fierce.”

Why do you have to move for work? Just find a WiFi hookup and a decent coffee joint, home-school the kids, and you’re all set. That’s Bob Mould in this week’s Ask Bob. Got a question for a D.C. resident who’s led at least two classic bands? It’s as simple as clicking here.

UGK’s Underground Kingz is “that rarest of hip-hop feats: A double disc that never becomes a chore to hear,” writes Joe Warminsky. Read the review and check out the video for the first single, “Int’l Players Anthem (I Choose You).”

In One Track Mind, Aaron Leitko gets the Mantras to explain the provenance of their very Creation song “Demonator,” which you can download free here. The Mantras play the Black Cat on Monday, Aug. 20.

Plus our picks: Leitko on New York’s “out-rock-drone-dub” outfit Religious Knives, Friday at the Velvet Lounge; Maggie Serota on Tortoise-y Richmond outfit Ilad, Friday at the Red and Black; and Cherkis on Glorytellers, led by ex-Karate and Secret Stars member Geoff Farina, Sunday at the Black Cat.