Happy Birthday, Joe

This birthday boy has nothing whatsoever to do with music, unless there's some musical ode to his prowess on the football field that I've yet to hear. But as a graduate of the University of Alabama, I didn't think I should let this day go by without wishing a very, very Happy Birthday to the one, the only, #12: Joe Willie Namath.

Football fans, you'll probably remember him as "Broadway Joe", famous during his years as a New York Jet for his hair, his fur coats, and his affinity for the bottle. There was even a commercial for pantyhose, I do believe. But before making life interesting in New York, Joe was throwing his way to glory under the coaching of Bear Bryant down in Tuscaloosa. He's definitely one of the greats, and highly revered down among the annals of Alabama college football. And I don't think anyone can deny that back in the day he was a stone cold fox. In honor of his birthday, why not pick up a copy of his super sassy autobiography, "I Can't Wait Until Tomorrow...'Cause I Get Better Looking Every Day"?

Old Skool Review: The Fat Boys

It has come to my attention that virtually nobody is blogging about really old skool rap these days. That could well be because most bloggers weren't alive when Big Daddy Kane was as raw as they came, EPMD helped us to chill and Roxanne Shante had beef with UTFO. Well, the Old Skool Review hopefully is going to help change all that.

Up today, the Fat Boys. In addition to their girth, the original Disco Three spawned the illustrious Prince Markie Dee (Mark Morales), Kool Rock-Ski (Damon Wimbley) and Buff Love a.k.a. The Human Beat Box (Darren Robinson). In addition to various forays into acting, the thing to remember most about these cats was Buff's legendary beat box skills. Sure, many others stepped to the throne, and some even came close to taking the crown (I'm looking at you, Doug E. Fresh), but nobody could touch Buffy.

Sadly, Buff Love has since passed and Kool Rock-Ski went and got skinny, but they'll always be the Fat Boys to me.

mp3: Human Beat Box

mp3: Human Beat Box, Part II

mp3: Human Beat Box, Part III

Live Review: St. Vincent @ the Black Cat, Washington, D.C., May 22, 2009

I feel obligated to preface this review with the fact that I'm a pretty big fan of Annie Clark, the brains, voice, beauty and being of St. Vincent.

With that out of the way, can I say this was one of the worst concerts I've ever attended? Acoustically, damn near nothing went right for then entire hour-plus Ms. Clark played. The root of the problem seemed to revolve around the fact that the house sound guy simply didn't know what to do with Clark's exceptionally quiet voice. Add that to the fact that the audience was in a rare state of assholery, making so much noise as to effectively drown out half or more of the lyrics for damn near every song. I mean, seriously, even the guy at the merch table was talking so loud I could hear him from six feet away.

I simply cannot understand why anyone would pay good money to go listen to a band, only to yap through the entirety of the gig. Damn ass hats.

Interesting enough, NPR streamed the entire performance. I'm just listening to it myself now, and it already sounds much better than it did live. Clearly, her proximity to the mic is paramount to digging the live show. Sadly, some people simply sound superior on wax than they do live. It would appear, on this night at least, that St. Vincent falls clearly into that category.

mp3: Actor Out of Work

LP Lust: Memorial Day Edition

Greetings and salutations, my fine fellows! I hope everyone has been enjoying the bliss otherwise known as the three-day weekend. I am a serious proponent of a permanent three-day weekend, though, sadly, it doesn't look like this issue is going to be addressed anytime soon.

Anyway! What better thing to do over a holiday weekend than shop for vinyl! My latest additions to the ever-growing LP collection were purchased over two different shopping trips, one to the fantabulous Diversity Thrift here in Richmond, the other this past Saturday at the Plan 9 in Charlottesville. Here's what I ended up with:

*Leon Russell: Leon Russell
*Neil Young: Decade
*Bruce Springsteen: Nebraska
*Ike & Tina Turner: Get It-Get It!
*Harry Nilsson: A Little Touch of Schmilsson in the Night
*Gram Parsons: Grievous Angel
*Grand Funk: We're An American Band
*Various: Welcome to Tyrol
*Harry Nilsson: The Point!
*Magnavox Presents: A Reprise of Great Hits

All in all, I do believe I found some very excellent albums. I feel really lucky to be in an area that has such a wealth of good quality (and cheap!) used records.

Happy Birthday, Bob

As a fellow Gemini, I'd like to wish a certain legend a very, very Happy Birthday today. I'm sure y'all are already celebrating as we speak, but it's Bob Dylan's 68th birthday.

It's hard to know what to say about Bob, and equally hard to imagine a world without his music. I'm almost ashamed to admit that I am definitely a late bloomer when it comes to his music, but the first to admit that listening to "Girl From the North Country" almost always makes me cry. Dylan is unlike anyone, and it's probably safe to assume that there will never be another like him. His music has something to say, though perhaps it says different things to different people it is the antithesis of so much of today's popular music. A world without Bob Dylan would be a very frightening place, musically-speaking.

So join me, won't you, in wishing a Happy Birthday to the epitome of legend. Here's to you, Bob.

Zut Alors!: Sharing is Caring

Dearest friends,

As we all know, the economy is still a big old nasty piece of work these days. I'm feeling it, and I'm sure pretty much all of you are feeling it.

However, there's a matter that I wish to bring to your attention, and it is my hope that at least some of you will be able to participate.

You already know how highly we think of Mr. Trent Reznor around these parts, and both Chris and I subscribe to TR's Tweets. It was one of those Tweets that alerted me to what I'm now going to bring to your attention. Here's the message that Trent posted to the NIN site:

"A Letter from Trent:

This is for something important. Eric De La Cruz is dying and needs a heart transplant. He keeps getting turned down for a transplant list because he's on Nevada Medicaid, and there are no transplant centers in Nevada. We want to get involved and hopefully so do you, so we're extending a hand. His sister Veronica (former Anchor and Internet Correspondent for CNN) has started a campaign to save his life.

Eric's situation shines a bright light on a broken health care system, and his particular set of problems are being addressed on the political front, aiming for reform in addition to the need for immediate financial help to keep him alive TODAY. I think we can help with the latter.

Here's what we're offering - three options:

If you have a ticket to a NIN/JA show: if you donate $1,000 to this cause, we'll invite you to come hang out with us before the NIN/JA show of your choice. You and a guest can watch NIN and Street Sweeper Social Club's soundchecks, eat dinner backstage with us, take pics / get autographs and watch the show from the side of the stage if you'd like.

If you donate $300, you and a friend can join us for NIN and SSSC's soundchecks and a handshaking / hug session before doors open at the NIN/JA show of your choice.

If you do NOT have a ticket to a NIN/JA show: if you donate $1,200 to this cause, we'll invite you to come hang out with us before the NIN/ JA show of your choice and provide 2 tickets (best available). You and a guest can watch soundcheck, eat dinner backstage with us, take pics / get autographs and watch the show from the side of the stage if you'd like.

100% of the money collected from this will go directly to Eric's fund.

I hope you'll consider helping out with this.

Sincerely, Trent Reznor

DEADLINE FOR DONATION PACKAGES IS 5:00PM (PST) 2 DAYS PRIOR TO EACH NIN/JA TOUR DATE.
NO MORE DONATIONS CAN BE ACCEPTED FOR THE FOLLOWING DATES* 5.21.09 SANTA BARBARA, CA [SANTA BARBARA BOWL]* 5.22.09 MOUNTAIN VIEW, CA [SHORELINE AMPHITHEATRE]* 5.24.09 GEORGE, WA [THE GORGE - SASQUATCH FESTIVAL]"

Like I said, I know times are super tight for everyone these days. As of now, this fundraising effort has raised over $600,000 to help Eric. We all know how completely and totally fucked the health care system is in this country, and this is a way to help someone who really, really needs it who might not make it otherwise. If you can, I would urge you to consider donating. You can even donate $10, which I know is a lot for many of us. I can't even begin to say how awesome this is, what Trent and co. have done, because if you think about it, not many bands at all would consider doing something like this (in an era in which some bands will charge you simply to meet them, with the money going to them as opposed to an actual pertinent cause). So, in closing, sharing is caring, and what better way to share than helping someone who is truly in need. It'll warm your heart, guaranteed.

There's Still Time for Winning

Hello friends.

Worried you may have missed the deadline for our celebratory 10,000th hit contest? Fretting about missing out on free music par excellence? Fear not. Our contest is open until the waning hours of the 31st day of this very fine month of May. That gives you plenty of time to concoct the perfect reason (or reasons, as the case may be) why you love us ever so much. If you tell us why, and we both decide your reasoning is flawless, you'll be the happy owner of not one but TWO Monks CDs. And two, most definitely, are better than one (well, with most things, like Monks CDs).

So get cracking. We've already received some stellar entries, but we feel that there are others of you out there who should be entering this contest. Sadly, it's only valid for you US residents, but we still love you non-US folks just as much.

Hope everyone is enjoying their Memorial Day weekend! We believe that in the case of weekends, three days are better than two.

LP Lust: Graduation Edition

It's graduation time here in Richmond, and though it's been several years since I myself donned the cap and gown, I thought such an occasion would be the perfect time to pillage Plan 9's used vinyl for the first time in...probably not all that long (it's been a couple weeks, surely that shows some modicum of restraint, no?).

The store is but a brief 20-minute stroll from my place, so after a pleasant saunter in the humid morning to and fro Carytown, here's the goods that I was able to snag out from under my fellow Richmonders:

*Bobbie Gentry: Touch 'Em With Love

*Split Enz: Waiata

*The Charlie Daniels Band: Fire On the Mountain

*Nancy Sinatra: Country, My Way

*Bruce Springsteen: The Wild, The Innocent, & the E Street Shuffle

*Johnny Cash: Big River

*Emmylou Harris: Blue Kentucky Girl

*Split Enz: True Colours

*Staples Singers: Be What You Are

*Byrds: Byrds

Happy Birthday, Trent

He's been a regular fixture on this here site for quite some time now, so it's only right to wish LET's Sexiest Man of 2008 and Great Hope of the Music Industry, Mr. Trent Reznor, a very, very happy birthday.

Trent is currently in the midst of the NIN/JA tour with Jane's Addiction, and if you've never seen Nine Inch Nails, well, a) this is your last chance and b) it's a must-see event. Yours truly will be seeing the show when it rolls along to the DC area, and I hope you've been able to get your mitts on some tickets. I have no doubt that it'll be one of the best shows of 2009.

Happy Birthday, Stephen

My fellow Americans, as I'm sure you are already well aware (it's on my calendar, I can tell you that), today is a day to celebrate a piece of real, honest-to-apple-pie American-ness: the birth of Stephen Colbert.

Yes, friends, May 13th, while not yet the national holiday truly required by such a momentous occasion, is in fact the day Mr. Stephen Tyrone Colbert first opened his eyes to the iniquities and problems of the world. Appropriately, Colbert was born in DC, the city he has mocked so enchantingly over the years.

I think you'll agree, when it comes to noteworthy Americans, Stephen Colbert is right up there. His skillful skewering, adept acrimony, and charming censure are natural treasures just as much as the shining monuments erected to honor our forefathers. So please, join me in celebrating the birth of one of the nation's most important contemporary figures. Happy Birthday, Stephen.

Whither Festivus: (Much Belated) SXSW 2009 Recap

So it's been almost two months since I wandered down to Austin and joined piles and piles of writers and scenesters and musicians in partaking in South by Southwest 2009. I've already written not one but two lengthy recaps of SXSW '09, so instead of insanely writing number three I've decided to post here the review I did for the super scrumdidlyumptious RVA magazine website relaunch last month. (Shameless self-promotion: make sure to check out RVA for yours truly, as well as the fact that it's a great mag.) And now, friends, my take on SXSW. Enjoy. Oh, and you can see the article in its entirety here, along with awesome accompanying photos shot by the wonderful Laura O'Neill.

"South by Southwest. South By. SXSW. Whichever one strikes your fancy, it’s been going on for decades now, and is pretty much the granddaddy of American music festivals. Increasingly, industry types have been flocking to Austin en masse, chomping at the bit to find the Next Big Thing, or some approximation thereof, and have themselves one hell of a good time down in the Lone Star State.

And this year, I wanted to join them.

With my bestest of friends by my side, I prepared for a week of all music, all the time. Laura and I prepped hardcore, and by the time we left Richmond we figured we had a pretty strong grasp of the situation. Flying over the flat, wide expanse of east Texas, I was pretty sure I had a good idea of what SXSW was going to offer. But like many things in life, the reality was so much different than what I’d concocted in my imagination. Luckily, the reality was even better, despite the 7 am flight and all-nighter I had to pull getting my packing taken care of [SXSW tip #1: do not wait until the last minute to pack. It is a very, very bad idea.].

As a SXSW attendee, you’re surrounded by music from the minute you step foot in the airport (literally, there are bands playing in the airport). After disembarking in Austin, I moseyed along with hundreds of festivalgoers to the baggage claim to pick up our gear. Since I had time to kill waiting for Laura’s flight to arrive, I made myself comfortable and started checking people out. Every group that glided down the escalators seemed to be full of young, be-sunglassed band members, and the industry folks who love them. I thought I recognized nearly all of them, though of course I couldn’t name but a few. One of my favorite moments of the whole week happened while in baggage claim: I finally saw a band I knew I recognized, the white-hot New Zealanders Bang! Bang! Eche!. A band I didn’t recognize saw them, too, and one of the dudes mock-squealed, and in a girly voice screeched, “Bang! Bang! Eche! Ahhhh!”. There was much giggling, and the bands shook hands. It was the first of many times I would see Bang! Bang! Eche! in Austin, and led to the game “How Many Times Will I See B! B! E! This Week?” (the answer was five or six).

After getting a taxi (far) out to our hotel [SXSW tip #2: stay downtown, or as close to downtown as you can get. We did not, and it was more often than not a huge pain in the ass.], we unwound for a bit before venturing out into the inky black Texas night for the first of many shows. New friends Your 33 Black Angels were playing a show at the venerable Austin venue TC’s Lounge, a place more authentically divey than just about anywhere I’ve ever been. The floor slants, the bathrooms don’t lock, and the building itself is so nondescript you’re likely to drive past it, what with its’ peeling boards and lack of any kind of marquee. But it’s legendary, and rightfully so. Your 33 Black Angels knocked out a great set, as did transplanted Austinites Cartright, Slick (of NYC), and TK Webb & the Visions. Much rock was heard, much beer was had [SXSW tip #3: many places do not serve PBR. In fact, several places do not know what PBR is. And the places that do carry it do not have the tallboys. Lone Star seems to be the Texas equivalent.], and much pool was played, Laura and I teaming up with some of the Cartright boys for some sloppy games (I’m pretty sure Joe and I won, but perhaps Laura and Lou would tell you differently). So convivial is the vibe in Austin during SXSW, that a complete stranger offered us puffs on his joint. But eventually, my early morning/no sleep caught up with me, and we called our personal driver (aka our Guinean cabbie) to take us home.

Day 2 began rather auspiciously, waking up with a throat so sore that I had to cringe to swallow. It’s a day I remember very little of, but what I do remember was fantastic (apart from the whole illness thing). We got up pretty early [SXSW tip #4: if your hotel offers free breakfast, as ours did, take full advantage. Stuff yogurts into your pockets. The best thing about our hotel was undoubtedly the waffle maker that made huge, fluffy waffles in the shape of the state of Texas.] and attempted to wade through the various RSVP information to plan our schedule for the day. After stopping by the Convention Center to get our wristbands, we started off at Maggie Mae’s, and saw some of Future of the Left’s raging, pulsating set before heading indoors for the much calmer, sweetly soothing sounds of Juliette Morneau. While killing time before Yelle, Laura and I stopped to get some tacos and sangria. My throat was so pained I couldn’t drink but more than a few sips of what seemed to be delicious sangria (o, the humanity), and my fever was making me miserable. My friend Joel, who stayed in one of the plushest of the downtown hotels, kindly allowed me to take sanctuary at his place for a bit, where I passed out for several sweet hours in a blissfully fluffy bed (complete with decorative throw pillow).

After sweating the fever out, Laura and I reconvened at Stubb’s, one of the biggest SXSW venues, where we caught the Outkastian romps of Janelle Monae, as well as the endearingly adorable Ladyhawke, who won me over with her shimmery, dreamy dancepop. After Ladyhawke finished up, we took a rickshaw [SXSW tip #5: rickshaws are a great idea for getting around Austin, cheaper and way more fun than taxis. And ladies, the drivers tend to be on the foxy side.] to the gargantuan Austin Music Hall, to see something I had been impatiently waiting for for weeks, the Black Angels with Roky Erickson. The Austin Music Awards were in session, and were running extremely late. The acceptance speeches were on the lengthy side, and the set we had showed up for started about an hour late, but was worth every second. You know you’re in the right place when Bobby Gillespie and Mani of Primal Scream are floating around the crowd. I began to get chills as soon as the Black Angels launched into “You On the Run,” and the goosebumps didn’t leave me until the last chords had been played. The noise was deafening, probably the loudest songs I’ve ever heard, so loud that I felt like the bass was vibrating right through me, and would at any moment literally knock me off my feet. Seeing the Black Angels is amazing enough on its own, but when you throw in the legendary Roky Erickson and a show in their home turf, well, it becomes a transcendental experience.

Day three was on the lame side, not because of the festival but because I woke up feeling a thousand times sicker than I had the day before. Playtime was limited, first at Club 1808 (a spot my taxi driver hesitantly asked whether I knew anyone there, as the ‘hood was far from the best) for Seaspin, Californians enamored with gazing at shoes. We checked them out with the War Tapes, friends and SXSW participants. And then it was time to bolt for downtown, to see one of my current favorite live bands, Dead Confederate. The boys from Athens hooked me last year, and having seen them once before I knew just how good it was gonna be. But then, they took it even further, exploding into swirling, heavy, overpowering swamp rock grit, and the entire venue seemed to heave with their every note. It was intense, and it was the perfect way to end the day of (mostly) suck.

Friday was the longest day, but probably the best overall day as well, [SXSW tip #6: see as much music as you possibly can, even if you feel like by the end of the day you will never be able to stand again.] as we took in twelve sets by eleven bands (two Glasvegas sets are better than one!), and as a bonus I no longer felt like death warmed over. We began our day at Stubb’s for the Spin party, where we started off with the brash Atlantans Black Lips, and their bratty snarlings. Überhyped Glasvegas was next, and the hotly buzzed Scots won me over with their impassioned, loud rock. Perry Farrell sauntered onto the stage to introduce Echo & the Bunnymen, who sounded ageless (even if they didn’t look it). We left the Echo set early to stake out space at Brush Square Park for the New Zealand Party [SXSW tip #7: New Zealand is the new black. No shit. With SXSW participants like Bang! Bang! Eche!, Cut Off Your Hands, and Ladyhawke, not to mention Surf City and perennial artpunk faves of mine, Die! Die! Die!, Kiwis are hot commodities.], which was probably my favorite party of the whole week. Cut Off Your Hands set the tone with their 80s-infused sound. Midnight Youth I wasn’t sold on, they were far too middle of the road (or MOR, for you abbreviation lovers) for my taste. Bang! Bang! Eche! was my favorite of the four bands, not only because I love excessive punctuation but because their set was out of control, and it was dynamite. After another excellent Ladyhawke set, it was time to hightail it over to Habana’s back porch to see a new favorite, the Love Language, straight outta Raleigh. I loved them before their set, and I am happy to report that I love them even more post-SXSW. The forced march led us next to SoCo (South Congress) to the American Apparel store. Not for shopping, but for the most unusual event I attended all week. The aforementioned War Tapes were about to do a set on the roof of the store, and despite being a bit of a dubious proposition, the band nailed it. By the end of their set they had assembled quite a little legion of admirers, deservedly so. The final journey of the night took us back downtown, to La Zona Rosa, for the tail end of the all-day Scottish Music party. We took a load off listening to the Proclaimers’ acoustic set (loved it), and then Glasvegas launched into another rollicking set, to the delight of the assembled persons. But the absolute, unquestionable, obvious high point of the night was the finale: Primal Scream. Prml Scrm. Goddam Primal Scream. It had been nine long years since my last Scream show (in Glasgow), and the band made the wait worth every single second. Sure, Kevin Shields and Throb weren’t there, but apart from that it was a sensational set. Incendiary, even. By SXSW standards it was an extremely long set, and covered every incarnation of the Scream’s sound. If I had to pick a favorite moment, it was the point in the show when I thought to myself, “How perfect would it be to hear ‘Shoot Speed/Kill Light’ at this very moment?”, and then, well, they did. Even after all these years, Primal Scream is still a live juggernaut.

We cooled our jets considerably on Saturday, the last official day of SXSW. First was Graham Coxon, doing a solo acoustic set at the Q Magazine party. I’ve been a fan of Coxon since his Blur days, and found him as endearing a personality as you could hope. Oh, and the songs were great as well. After Graham finished up, we downed our free beer and set off on a very, very, very long walk [SXSW tip #8: during the day, make sure you take a taxi or rickshaw, or hitch a ride with a band to get to a far-flung destination. It’ll save you time toweling yourself off when you get to where you’re going.]. Sure, we were sweating up a storm when we arrived at the Pretty & Nice set, but they made it worth our while. A highly recommended group of Noo Yawkers. After their set, we wised up and took a taxi down to Headhunter’s, to see one of my most highly-anticipated sets of the week: Austin’s own Ringo Deathstarr. It could end up being on of those gigs that people reference years from now, because Ringo Deathstarr is so fucking good they should be huge one of these days. If you’re into MBV and J&MC, you’ll love RD. After they were done causing my jaw to drop to the floor I immediately bought their LP. It was a little anticlimactic after RD, former flavors of the week Razorlight and the amazing PJ Harvey entertained us over at Stubb’s. And then it was time to hit the hay.

Sunday was a day spent doing touristy things. The city felt a lot less crowded, which was rather nice. We rented a car, and drove around Austin [SXSW tip #9: renting a car for a day might seem odd, but worked out really well. It allows you freedom to tool around the city at your own pace, and is a great way to handle getting to the airport when you leave town.], everywhere from the state capitol building to the UT campus (to take pics of the clock tower, naturally), to SoCo, where we ended our day cruising the plethora of killer boutiques and antique stores and occasionally running into members of Echo & the Bunnymen.

I’m no stranger to the world of festivals. I’ve been to several HFStivals. I’ve been to Coachella. I’ve been to All Tomorrow’s Parties. They were all great. But let me tell you, nothing compares to u, SXSW. It’s a force of nature, and it incurs some growing pains, but hot damn if it wasn’t one of the best weeks of my life. [SXSW tip #10: go. Just fucking go. Bands, get your asses down there. Non-bands, just do whatever you have to do to get down there. You’ll be glad you did.] Viva SXSW!"

[Photo by Megan Petty]

Video Vixens: Waterlogged Edition

My, my, my...Mother Nature sure is cranky these days, isn't she? Perhaps she and her boyfriend Father Time just broke up. Every morning I wake up with naive hopefulness and think to myself that surely, today is the day I shall see the sun shine again, and every morning I open the blinds to find a big old "fuck you" from Mama Nature looking back at me: a painfully dull gray sky and rain. Lots and lots of rain. Copious amounts of rain.

And since the infinite wisdom of the Weather Channel decrees that we here in Richmond (and probably most other locales in the Southeast/Midatlantic) have several more days of rainy goodness to look forward to (not to mention another tornado watch for this evening), I felt inspired to turn my frown upside down with some rain-themed videos for everyone's viewing pleasure. So please, friends, enjoy the following rainy day clips. And don't forget your umbrella.

Happy 10,000th!

Well, kids, LET is about to hit a milestone, and we want you to join us in celebrating. We are very close to our 10,000th hit, a number of which we are very, very proud. Sure, there are music blogs out there that hit those numbers on a monthly (or even daily) basis, but you'll forgive us for being proud nonetheless.

To commemorate this personal achievement, we've got some goodies for one lucky person who happens to visit us around hit numbereth 10,000th. Thanks to our very fine friends at Light in the Attic Records, we have copies of two Monks' CDs, Black Monk Time and The Early Years: 1964-1965.

By now, you've probably heard the hype about these re-issues. We've heard it at LET HQ, and this stuff is tight. You've got your largely unheralded band of kids making some major waves in the then-history of rock. These cats were some of the first to really explore the beauty of feedback, and you can hear the magic on these discs.

How easy is it to win? Just email us at lesenfantsterriblesmusic@gmail.com and tell us why you love us. True, perhaps it's a bit narcissistic. But it is our blog, dammit.

So keep coming back. We expect to have a winner in the coming days. As soon as we hit the magic number, we'll let the world know.

A very special thanks to everyone who has stopped by our little corner of the Interwebs over the past year or so. Hopefully, it's been at least half as fun for you as it has for us.

mp3: The Monks - We Do Wie Du

LP Lust: Record Store Day Edition

As most of you smartypantses know, Record Store Day 2009 was April 18th. I hope everyone made it out to support independent record stores all over. I'll stay off my soapbox for now, but I'm sure we all know how important it is to help the indies stay around during these troubling economic times. I of course couldn't resist the lure not only of my usual record hoarding, but the chance to poach some killer freebies.

So off I went, early in the morn on a Saturday, to my favorite (and the bestest) of Richmond's record emporiums, Plan 9. I snagged myself some RSD goodies and headed to my Mecca, otherwise known as the basement, where the (majority of the) vinyl lives. As always, I went with a mix of knowns and unknowns. Here's what came home with me along with the free goods:


*Adam Ant - Friend or Foe

*Brewer & Shipley - Tarkio

*Steve Miller Band - Fly Like an Eagle

*John Baldry - Everything Stops for Tea

*Dead or Alive - Youthquake

*Gregg Allman - Laid Back

*The Flying Lizards - The Flying Lizards

*The Lovin' Spoonful - The Best of the Lovin' Spoonful

*Fleetwood Mac - Fleetwood

*A-Ha - Hunting High and Low

*The Dillards - Wheatstraw Suite

*The Rolling Stones - Undercover

*Jethro Tull - Benefit

*Brownsville Station - A Night on the Town

*Cream - Goodbye

*The Beach Boys - Endless Summer

I'm still nowhere close to achieving my goal of collecting every single Rolling Stones LP ever, but it'll happen one of these days.