I just got word that Immortal Technique will be making an in-store appearance at DJ Hut on Saturday June 28th and 2 PM. Tech is in town supporting his latest release, The 3rd World, featuring DJ Green Lantern, Pharoahe Monch, and local favorite AKIR.

Over the past decade, Immortal Technique has solidified his position as one of the leading voices of the hip-hop movement for social change. Recently he has branched out and undertaken new projects including an essay contest for high school teens and a Project Green Light, a partnership effort to build an orphanage/clinic in Afghanistan. Stay up to date with latest from Immortal Technique at his MySpace page, and make sure to check him out at the upcoming Rock the Bells show at Merriweather Post Pavillion next month!

The 3rd World is available in stores and online from Viper Records/Koch Entertainment.

DJ Hut is located at 2010 P St NW, Washington DC.

With the release of the Faraquet singles compilation, Dischord has announced that it will offer the record in a digital format and expects to launch a full-on digital site soon:

“This album will represent the first Dischord release to be available in the digital MP3 format directly from the Dischord Records website. Our new “digital” website will launch on or before June 30th and will feature digital downloads of every Dischord album from our catalog as well as free album downloads with 12″ vinyl purchases.”

The label joins other indies who have started selling digital releases like Merge and Thrill Jockey.

Crooked Beat, Adams Morgan’s go-to record store, just sent us an e-mail alerting us to some great used vinyl fresh in their racks. Here’s what’s come in:

My Bloody Valentine - Isn’t Anything ( 2003 Repress)
Neu - S/T
John Lee Hooker - Endless Boogie
Bo Diddley - Got My Own Bag Of Tricks
Mouse On Mars - Idiology
Rockpile - Seconds of Pleasure
Them with Van Morrison - Backtrackin’
Feelies - Time For a Witness
Chuck Brown - Live
Byrds Tribute - With Dinosaur Jr, Barracudas plus other
Vanilla Fudge - Near The Beginning
Johnny Winter - Story
Chills - Submarine Bells
Hot Chip - Coming On Strong
Black Flag - Everything Went Black
John Mayall - several different titles
Byrds - Untitled
Specials - S/T
Peter Tosh - Bush Doctor
Tracy+ Plastics - Culture For Pigeon

The real find has got to be the Chills LP!

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.

No Wave is kind of hard to describe using actual words. One generally has to rely on onomatopoeia like skree and krang to effectively capture the chaos and dissonance that defined the music. But in his book No Wave Arlington music writer Marc Masters does a good job of characterizing the movement without resorting to a Thurston Moore-invented vocabulary. If you want to check it out in person, he’ll be doing a reading and signing tonight at Crooked Beat Records around 7 p.m. If that leaves you curious as to what No Wave music actually sounds like, Masters will also be DJing tonight at Marx Cafe (located at 3203 Mount Pleasant St. NW) from 10 p.m. to 3 am..

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.

A friend just pointed out this post from Jessica Hopper’s blog, in which the blacklist-happy music writer goes after Chicago black-metal band Nachtmystium. The problem? Well, Hopper thinks they’re racist and homophobic.

Now, I loved Nachtmystium’s last album from 2006, an arty slab of psychedelic metal called Instinct: Decay. But I don’t go around doing due diligence on every band I like, so I’d never read any interviews in which frontman Blake Judd uses questionable language, or expresses questionable ideas.

But I decided to Google Nachtmystium and “Zionist conspiracy” and got nothing but Hopper’s blog. (Googling “Nachtmystium” and “Zionist” gets you here.) I didn’t bother with the f-word, because it seems clear enough that the guy is upset with message board lurkers, not, um, gay people.

Now, I’m not going to condone what Judd said, but, if Hopper’s going to call out poor Stephin Merritt for not liking rap, then perhaps she will understand that–as Faulkner once said about the South–some of us like despite, not because of.

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.

The much-anticipated Green Apple Festival got doused with sobering sogginess yesterday, on what would have been the greatest 4/20 spectacle since 1908. Yeah, there’s the well-observed irony that Mother Nature rained on her own parade…yeah, there’s the fact that the day was more gray than green…and of course Toots, the Roots, and Gov’t Mule in toto (among others) never even made it to the stage.
Read the rest of this entry »

Ben Sisario’s NYT article about indie record stores was quite a bummer, but Sasha Frere-Jones blog post from last Friday got me thinking that the demise of 3,100 record stores since 2003 isn’t such a bad thing.

SFJ writes: “There are many educating angels out there, and I owe several kind people a lifetime’s tuition, but, good Lord, record-store employees can be grumpy. And scary. And insulting. And make you feel like never ever going into a store again. And that’s relevant.”

It is relevant. We’ve all had these High Fidelity-type experiences and if you think of this stuff in small business terms–as opposed to cultural terms–it’s especially baffling.

I certainly don’t welcome the demise of record stores, but here are some questions to think about, once again in small business terms…

Will the stores that are left over have to work much harder for your money?

Will they have to do things to differentiate themselves from the vast resources of the internet?

Will they be much happier to see you walk through the door?

I think the answer to all three is ‘yes.’ Is this a tragedy? Not at all.