As a kid I was a big fan of the Stephen King-written 1986 coming-of-age tale Stand By Me—a movie that included one of the most intense on-screen vomit sessions ever to be committed to celluloid. So I’ll admit, accompanying Amanda Hess as she reported this week’s Show & Tell column about the “Spaghetti Bros”—a performance-art piece by GWU grad students Gina Tibbott and Kenny George that involved the pair playing beer pong with ice-cold Spaghettios for three hours while listening to hair-metal–was a little bittersweet for me. On one hand, it was entertaining for much the same reasons I enjoyed this. On the other hand, it involved three hours of sitting in a room that smelled like the kitchen of Bucca Di Beppo might if the cooks had spent a whole day boiling Cheetos. Near the end it was almost like watching a particularly competitive basketball game. Every shot counted, the participants were pushed to their physical limits, and the last five minutes seemed to drag on for an eternity. But if there was a victor in the end, I can’t really say who it was. Honestly, it was all I could do to hold the video camera.

When I was 14 years old, I got my first job working at a Salt Lake City–based local Greek fast-food chain called Apollo Burgers. One of said restaurant chain’s major selling points was that it made its own onion rings from scratch. Thus I spent an entire summer sitting in the tiny kitchen peeling and shredding onions with the owner’s son—a shit-talking college proto-bro who wore a backwards baseball cap and played a cassette of the Smoking Popes’ Born to Quit over and over and over and over again.

This week, the Smoking Popes announced a show at the Black Cat on Aug. 2. It’s nice to know that should I attend, I can finally listen to “Need You Around”—a song that I’ve heard a thousand times—one more time.

Here are several other upcoming interesting Black Cat shows with similarly irrelevant personal anecdotes; all tickets go on sale today:

Sunday, July 22: Bishop Allen, Page France, The Teeth. An old girlfriend once burned me a Bishop Allen CD as a gift. Because I liked her, I told her I liked it, but in truth I only listened to the first 30 seconds of the first song. This was childish and somewhat immature on my part. Still I don’t regret it. I don’t really like Bishop Allen.

Monday, Sept. 17: Do Make Say Think. Every Christmas when I return home to Salt Lake City, my cousins and I usually get together to “jam” in our family space-rock band, which is heavily inspired by our shared love of ’90s shoegaze records—particularly the Verve’s Storm in Heaven. In honor of our shared affection for aimless noodlery, I purchased Do Make Say Think’s Winter Hymn, Summer Hymn, Secret Hymn for one of these cousins as a Christmas gift. Alas, I am fairly certain that the LP has remained unplayed.

Wednesday, Sept. 26: Dirty Projectors, Ecstatic Sunshine. Once I went to the Warehouse Next Door to attend a K Records benefit show for the members of Dub Narcotic Soundsystem, who had suffered a van accident while on tour. Dave Longstreth was performing that evening as Dirty Projectors. After the show he kindly offered me a slice of an orange that he was eating. I declined. He then told me that the orange was full of acid. Again, I declined. He then told me that the orange was filled with the “Kill Bush Power.” Still, I declined.

Thursday, Sept. 27: Magnolia Electric Co., The Watson Twins, Drakkar Sauna. Magnolia Electric Co. was once known as Songs Ohia. A live import CD of a concert they performed in Italy was my final purchase from the now-defunct DCCD. I have listened to it exactly twice and probably only bought it to piss off my roommate at the time, who really wanted it. This was childish and somewhat immature on my part. Still, I don’t regret it. It’s a pretty sweet record.

Also take note of these upcoming shows by these local bands, many of which are solid and worth your $$$: Tuesday, July 24: Statehood, Problems, Hand-Fed Babies; Friday, July 27: The Dance Party, Let’s French, De Novo Dahl; Friday, Aug. 10: Shortstack, Garland Of Hours, Kitty Hawk.

Bands: Mass Movement of the Moth, Deleted Scenes, The Boom Orangutangs [sic]

Attendance: High

Ominous Police Presence: Low. By last year’s final show at least three cop cars were perched on the hill above the stage for the duration of the concert. This year that’s not the case—at least so far. Zero squad cars were present to loom over the proceedings (which—of course—is not an excuse to ruin Fort Reno through vandalism or the use/possession of illicit substances on the concert grounds).

Notable High Jinks: Perhaps fearful that their new-wavey pop stylings would not alone suffice to excite audiences, Deleted Scenes offered up a cooler full of Fla-Vor-Ice in an effort to draw attendees toward the stage. Which worked. A gaggle of teens scrambled forward—a few of which even remained to dance for the duration of the set.

Butthole Surfers singer Gibby Haynes once mused that any band could be successful as long as they were willing to tirelessly carry on no matter how sad and degrading things got.

The members of Calla must have similar philosophy. The New York band, pictured, is still truckin’ despite nearly 10 years of public indifference. Even Angels of Light/Swans front man Michael Gira—who released Calla’s second record on his Young God Records label—has turned his back, saying “Calla who?” in interviews. Ouch. Anyway, I had thought that they finally threw in the towel, but no—Calla will return to the Black Cat on Aug. 7 (tickets on sale June 15). There’s no word on an opener yet, but if they can get in touch with Elefant this could easily become the hot-Latino-in-eyeliner-fronts-underwhelming-mope-rock-band show of the year. A must.

Also back from the dead are Australia’s Silverchair, who have risen like Lazarus from their alt-rock tomb (likely built entirely from unwanted copies of R.E.M.’s Monster) to play a show at the 9:30 Club on July 24. Over the years, the band has apparently abandoned the grunge-lite sound that made them famous and moved into more tuneful and introspective territory that one reviewer compares to “Goo Goo Dolls-lite.” Oooph!

Finally, the surviving New York Dolls have announced a show at the 9:30 on July 19 and local luminaries Greenland and Mikal Evans Band will be performing with Northern Chorus at the Black Cat on July 25 (tickets on sale June 15).

Undeterred–or possibly inspired–by the political unrest in their homeland, Venezuelan disco band Los Amigos Invisibles have announced a show at 9:30 Club on July 7.

Doug Martsch—the heavily bearded leader of Boise, Idaho guitar heroes Built to Spill—will part his ample facial hair to sing to 9:30 Club audiences when his band performs on July 8.

Black Cat also announces that Georgie James, Middle Distance Runner, and These United States will perform on July 6 (tickets go on sale tomorrow).

A Texas church-rock band dressed up like extras from Godspell? Was anybody really that surprised when The Polyphonic Spree’s second record Together We’re Heavy tanked? They’re still at it though—except now they look like an army of Gary Numans. If you don’t find that disquieting, perhaps you’ll enjoy checking them out on Saturday, June 30, at their recently announced 9:30 Club show.

If not there’s always “An Evening with the Richard Thompson Band,” on Friday, June 22.

Meanwhile Black Cat announces shows by Japanese Melt Banana (Tuesday, June 12) and much loved queercore band Team Dresch (Wednesday, June 20). Tickets for all of these events are currently available through Ticketmaster.

Some of us at Washington City Paper have let it be known how we feel about Montreal indie-rock quartet Wolf Parade. However, we are aware that some of you don’t exactly concur with our tastes. So anyway, we thought that you might want to know the Black Cat has recently announced that Wolf Parade will be coming to town on Aug. 21. Tickets will go on sale on Friday, May 18, via Ticketmaster.

Bhangra DJ DJ Rekha has also just announced a show at Black Cat that will take place on June, 22. Tickets to the event are currently available.

Finally, tickets to see The White Stripes at the Patriot Center on July 28—a band, surprisingly enough, we were actually into…uh, a few years ago—will be going on sale Saturday, May 12.

In November 2005, I had the opportunity to interview Congolese thumb piano group Konono No. 1 following their performance on the Kennedy Center’s Millennium Stage. Konono No. 1 founder and patriarch Mingiedi was very friendly and enthusiastic about the interview but the process proved a little complex—mainly because of the double language barrier in between us. Mingiedi (pictured) spoke only Bantu. While on tour he communicated with Konono’s sound man via a translator who spoke only Bantu and French. Konono’s sound man spoke French and a little bit of English. Ignorant American that I am, I speak only English.

As the interview began these three men sat down across from me in a row and translated my questions from English to French to Bantu. The answers were then passed back through the same confusing process in a multilingual game of telephone.

Remarkably, this worked—or at least it worked 75 percent of the time—and we were all able to have a pretty nice, if clumsy conversation about the band’s history, their homemade likembé sound system, and Dutch punk group The Ex. Then out of sheer laziness I never published it—until now. Check Konono No. 1 out tonight when they perform at the Black Cat at 9 p.m.

Me: I was wondering if you could tell me a little bit about some of the history of the group? Just as far as how long you’ve been playing? When you started using the amplified equipment?

Soundman Translating for Mingiedi: He learned the music at home when he was young because his father was playing music for the king. The King used a lot of music when he wanted to talk to the population but he prefers the rhythm of “Masikulu.” Masikulu is a kind of rhythm—an old rhythm—music from Congo. Before about 1700 when they play Masikulu it’s not with the likembé; they played it with horns. He started to play Masikulu music with the likembé. That’s the story of his music.

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Now that my days as a Washington, D.C., church critic have come to a close, I have numerous regrets concerning missed opportunities. Chief among them is that I did not spend more time leaning on one of these staffs.

This Saturday I ducked out of the Dismemberment Plan reunion show a little early to join a few of my friends in attending an all-night prayer service at Debre Selam Kidist Mariam Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. When we arrived we were each handed one of these four-foot ceremonial staffs and told that we could lean them to relieve our burden during the four-hour-plus service—much of which would be spent standing.

It really did the trick. Had I been sitting down I might have been inclined to doze off given the late hour, but with one of these bad boys I was able to stand up all night and concentrate fully on M. Moges Seyoum’s heated chanting while suffering little fatigue.

I can only think how valuable one of these would have been to have around for any of the 63 services that I attended professionally. All the weight I could have shifted onto it! The collection plates I could have warded off! At any rate, if anybody knows where I can snag one of these for secular use, don’t hesitate to get in touch.

When all-purpose-punk-rock super-store Smash closed the doors of its Georgetown location after two decades, D.C. lost a piece of its musical heritage—it also got a lot harder to find fluorescent hair dye.

However, all is not lost. Smash has re-opened at a new location on the second floor of 2314 18th St. NW.

Original owner Bobby Polski has opted out of this incarnation and instead passed the store on to former employees Matt Moffatt and Daisy Lacy. “It was Matt’s idea to keep going,” says Lacy. “He asked me because he thought we would make a good pair.”

The two will continue to stock all of Smash’s traditional wares (records, funky clothes, Doc Martens Boots, Morrissey buttons), with a few new twists.

“We’re not as punkcentric anymore,” says Lacy. “We’ll carry anything as long as it’s cool or cute.”

Surprisingly, Bill Daly—owner of neighboring Crooked Beat Records—isn’t sweating the competition. “I’m really glad they’re here,” he says. “There aren’t many record stores left; hopefully it will draw people to the area.”

It’s been a while since anybody in D.C. made an honest-to-god music video and Benjy Ferree must be applauded for his efforts. A video for the Domino recording artist and local bartender’s song “In the Countryside” popped up on YouTube today and it’s pretty entertaining. In it, a sepia tinted Ferree watches from the porch while a little girl controls undead patricians via a primitive joystick and colorful locals run amok. There’s some quality knock-kneed dancing too. See for yourself.

We here at City Paper can never pass up a good bodily-fluid story, so we figured we’d give you advance warning on tonight’s Velvet Lounge show by controversial French performance artist Jean-Louis Costes.

Here’s how Costes describes his new act:

“Little Birds Shit” is the story of an ordinary couple. They meet…They Flirt…They Fuck…They make a baby… They fall into the normal trappings of family existence, working to make money.
– As they grow weary from the struggles of life, they find solace in acts of bizarre s&m sex.

However, this description of the act from North Dakota’s Rapid City Journal might give you a better idea of what you’re in for:

After stripping off their grubby clothes, the pair gobbled potato chips and spit them on the crowd, vomited into a filthy commode and threw around fake feces and urine before being shut down about a half hour into what was to be a 45-minute performance.

There were also plenty of “props.” The last straw, apparently, was a simulated sex act involving a carrot.

At any rate, if your idea of a chill Friday night is a cold can of Schlitz and a randy Frenchman performing vegetable-driven-buttsex on somebody, you know where to find it.

After 20 years in Georgetown under various names, Big Monkey Comics is pulling up stakes and moving to 14th Street NW. “The rent just got too high,” says head manager Devon Sanders. “Georgetown doesn’t favor small businesses.”

That goes double when your small business’ lead product has a $3 price point. Chain stores and rent hikes aren’t the only reason for the move, however. Sanders admits that after years of battling bitter neighborhood rivals Big Planet for nerd-market dominance, Big Monkey (formerly Another Universe and Beyond Comics under different owners) was ready to throw in the towel. “We’ve been fighting the dragon down the street for years. After a while it’s like, why fight the dragon? Why not just move to where there is no dragon?”

But Sanders doesn’t feel like Big Monkey has lost the battle or ceded turf. “As far as I’m concerned, if they want Georgetown, they can have it,” he says. “Georgetown is a piece of dead property.”

When Big Monkey’s arrives at their new location, at 1722 14th St. NW, they will be part of a more vital community, Sanders believes. “It’s a bigger space with more things to do in a happening neighborhood,” he says. “It will be a destination spot.”

Big Monkey also plans to revitalize its approach to comic book retail—mainly by concentrating on books. “Our new space will be more of a comic-book store instead of a boutique. There will be more stock, more focus on the comic-book side of things.”

“There will still be toys,” says Sanders. “But there will be no doubt as to what it is a comic book store.” But what will it not be? “It won’t be ‘modeled after an English bookstore,’” jokes Sanders—referencing his Big Planet’s self-description from a year-old City Paper story about the two stores’ rivalry.