Entries associated with the tag "Chicago":

Good news for anyone in Chicago with (indie-) rock-star dreams who doesn't have the time, inclination, or talent to actually go through the hassle of getting a band together or writing songs: the supersized cover-band/roaming-party the Blue Ribbon Glee Club is looking for some fresh blood.

Glee Clubber William Helmkamp writes:

hey miles,

you know some party peoples, right?  well i wanted to let you know that we're looking for some new members (guys & gals), as well a drummer/percussionist...

please spread the word!!

and if you know anybody who's interested have them email me or myspace us.

and also:

like i said, we're looking for guys & gals & a drummer.  tattoos = bonus.  read 'please kill me' = bonus.  able to shotgun a beer = bonus.  also, we practice on monday nights near union park.  have anyone who's interested email us at: blueribbongc at gmail dot com.

Fake Shore Drive's Andrew Barber got an interesting pseudonymous e-mail this morning from someone called "Prometheus," who claims to have lifted Rhymefest's iPod from a public appearance and found his long-delayed album El Che on it. Prometheus is now promising to leak the album a track at a time over the next few weeks.

Records are leaked online all the time and for all kinds of reasons: to generate buzz before a legit release, to get revenge, or just because a copy got left within arm's reach of someone who shouldn't have it. Prometheus's reasoning is new to me, though. In a lengthy screed accompanying the first two leaked tracks, he (I'm guessing from the language) puts Fest on blast for his poor choice of record label, his tour cancellations, and his lax iPod security, and complains a lot a lot a lot about El Che's repeated delays. Contrary to all obvious logic, he promises that this is going to be a good thing for Fest:

I got songs from your iPod. I'm going to leak a record from EL CHE every week until you drop a single or a video or some shit. The people have NO FUCKING IDEA how hot this shit sounds. Well, I'm going to show them. You had everything on your iPod. Even old, vintage shit. I'm gonna drop that, too. Until you or your weak-ass label keep your word and start dropping some fucking music. And, I'm not playing. I'm going to make you a better artist. I can't wait to see what you do.

Some of FSD's typically salty commenters are speculating that this might be a hoax, but if it's for real it might represent a brand new kind of Internet-facilitated artist-fan interaction: management guidance via online capitalist blackmail. 

Who says there's no innovation in the rap world in 2008?

The Hideout is apparently feeling pretty good about its showing in the Reader's first-ever Best of Chicago issue--Monica Kendrick named it Best Rock Venue and by popular vote it won Best Dance Party.

Saturday night they're going large with a dance party that features not just a solid lineup of DJs--including Hideout regulars Logan Bay, the Life During Wartime crew, and the East of Edens Soul Express--but also giveaways from other best-of winners like Intelligentsia Coffee, Bloodshot Records, Dusty Groove, and tattoo artist Dawn Grace Russell. What makes the deal even sweeter is that the whole thing's free, so if you shelled out too much cash for fried cheese curds at Pitchfork--a completely understandable situation, by the way--you can still enjoy the afterparty action. The festivities kick off at 9 PM and run into the wee hours.

Experimental Jetset's "John&Paul&Ringo&George" design is a streetwear classic that's lent itself easily to tributes and parodies galore. (The Dipset version, which I'm having trouble Googling, is a personal favorite.) The latest iteration features some of the most talked-about (and most shit-talked) personalities in the new school of Chicago hip-hop, including Mic Terror, who models it here.

It's currently coppable at Leaders1354 or online from co-designers Enstrumental and Eschmitte.

Not too long ago I talked to Justin from Walter Meego for my column, and pretty much every answer he gave to the questions I asked about the band's relocation from Chicago to LA included a reference to the pool they now have in their backyard, how kick-ass it is to have your own pool, and how many pool parties they were planning on having in their own personal pool. I just saw on Bigstereo that WM has a new video for their summerweight disco-pop jam "Forever," and unsurprisingly, poolside partying plays a major part in it. 

I gotta say, it really does look like the pool party is those dudes' natural habitat.

One weird development in the Internetization of music is that the Cartoon Network's Adult Swim has become one of the best online distributors of really well-made compilation albums. Ghostly International's Ghostly Swim comp has replaced most of the stuff I've skimmed from Discobelle on my electro playlist, and Chocolate Industries' new World Wide Renewal Plan looks equally solid, with contributions from the Cool Kids, Diverse, and Hollywood Holt, who doubles as a pitchman in commercials for the comp.

I'm not about to make any wild claims about WWRP stealing spins from Tha Carter III or anything, but in terms of easybreezybumpin nice-weather mix tapes this one's pretty quality.

(Video via Fake Shore Drive)

If you're following the bizarro-world legal proceedings known as the R. Kelly child-porn trial, you may have heard, among the other free-floating weirdness--the "log cabin room," the mural of R. playing basketball against the Tasmanian Devil--the tidbit that a lawyer unassociated with the trial got busted on Friday for trying to give Kelly a CD of his band. To add an extra little dash of insane, the lawyer, Mike Roman, is making the encounter into a big deal on his band's MySpace--trying to push a CD into R.'s hands apparently counts as another of his "many meetings with international celebrities."

My question is whether R. Kelly turns everything he touches into solid crazy or if he merely brings out the innate craziness in people around him.

I'm still trying to figure out the series of events leading up to New York magazine's Grub Street food blog running part of an interview with Chicago/LA rapper Yung Berg, but this bit about his food phobias makes me so glad that it happened:

"Sandwiches. Anything between two pieces of bread, I'm not good with it. That's my fear," the "Sexy Lady" singer confessed at the AMC Magic Johnson theater in Harlem. "Hot dogs, hamburgers--I've never eaten a hamburger, hot dog, or sandwich in my life," the 23-year-old told us. He does eat bread and is not a vegetarian--Berg's preferred nomenclature is "chicken-nugget dude"--but won't eat meats commonly found in sandwiches. "Never. I don't like cold cuts and lunch meat, none of that," Berg asserted.

(via Fake Shore Drive)

When I got up today I had an interesting Facebook invitation waiting for me, with the subject line "Have You Seen the Trailer for the Movie Son of Rambow?" I have in fact seen that trailer, but a question like that doesn't seem like it justifies an event invitation.

Turns out it wasn't actually a question--Have You Seen the Trailer for the Movie Son of Rambow? is the name of one of the bands playing the Girls Rock! Chicago Rock Lottery benefit show at the Abbey Pub on Thursday night. According to the GR!C Web site, "The Rock Lottery Benefit Show will feature seven bands comprised of local musicians who were grouped together through a random, lottery style drawing. Each band decided on a name at the drawing, and has just three weeks to prepare a set, including at least one original song." Given that the members of HYSTTFTMSOR are Jeremy Bolen and Bobby Burg (indie-rock men about town and bandmates in Chin Up Chin Up), Burg's girlfriend, and booking agent Mahmood Shaikh, I have to wonder if maybe they didn't game the selection system somehow.

Of course I can't actually go so far as to vouch for HYSTTFTMSOR (or any of the other one-off bands playing the benefit), but I do know that helping raise money for a girls' rock camp is a good thing. I encourage you to go. If I don't make it myself, you can tell me whether Jehovah's Wetness lived up to their name.

The city's heinous independent-promoter ordinance may be offline at the moment, but it comes from the mayor's office, and the mayor doesn't take defeat so well--meaning (like I've already said) that we shouldn't be surprised when it pulls a Jason Voorhees and comes back from the dead yet again.

The Chicago Music Commission is already preparing for that to happen. Right now they're collecting public comments on the ordinance to use against it the next time it comes up. Considering that the City Council has previously announced the votes on this measure only a few days in advance, it might pay to get things rolling before the next surprise.

When the independent-promoter ordinance got shot down yesterday, I was a little guarded in my celebration, but the Reader's Ben Joravsky--one of the few people who actually understands Chicago government--is openly skeptical that the fight's really over. (It's always depressing when the best-informed people are the most pessimistic.) Ben's postgame breakdown is here. Some points that got my attention:

"The vendor's licensing bill (commonly known as the promoter's ordinance) has been resurrected because Mayor Daley wants it, and no one in City Hall has the guts to tell the mayor he can't have what he wants."

"Daley had Schulter defer action on the bill to buy the time he needs to figure out how he has to rewrite it in order to pass something, if only to save face. Remember this is the mayor who forced the council to defer enacting the ban on smoking in restaurants and bars for two years to make sure it wouldn't look as though he was compromising on his opposition to smoking bans."

And the one most worth remembering: "My advice to opponents of the bill is to protest at City Hall. You can't imagine how much the mayor and the aldermen hate it when citizens actually show up there. Lord knows what might happen if people saw how the city really works."

Sometimes I love this city.

Within just a couple days of the news that the City Council would vote on an independent-promoter ordinance this Wednesday (see my amended post below), a torrent of outrage erupted that crossed all social and genre lines, sweeping up experimental-music fans and superstar rapper-producers alike. My inbox has been flooded with mass e-mails from bands, venues, DJs, bloggers, and regular old people who like to go out to clubs--even people who don't live in Chicago--all of them calling for organized opposition to the measure. From what I've heard, the phones at a bunch of aldermen's offices have been ringing off the hook with calls from citizens who wanted the ordinance shut down.

And it worked.

The ordinance has been tabled pending further research, which in politician talk means, basically, "This thing is so wildly unpopular that there's no way any of us are going to touch it." Of course there's still the chance that the promoter-licensing scheme will rear its head again--remember, this is the second coming of a similar ordinance the City Council floated last year--but the breadth and depth of the protest against the measure might persuade our aldermen (or Daley, since it seems likely he's behind this) to reconsider the idea's merits.

Or hey, what if the City Council went through with the proposal they made--albeit in an obviously noncommittal way--during the first round of debate on this ordinance? They suggested actually working with promoters and venues to come up with a sane way of dealing with the situation--so how about they meet with some of the little people in the trenches, the ones who could help come up with an idea that might actually work, instead of just listening to big boys like Jam Productions or the United Center?

Or, even crazier, what if the City Council were to look at the fact that nothing like the disaster at E2 has happened here in the five years since, even though independently promoted events have proliferated explosively, and realize that promoters and venues are already taking care of not letting people get trampled to death?

PS: There's been talk of a rally at City Hall at 9 AM Wednesday, and even in light of the vote deferral, it might be a good idea to show up. If Daley and company still mean to pass this thing, they're doubtless hoping that this maneuver will dissolve the coalition that's arisen so suddenly to fight it. It can't hurt to keep the heat on, in case there's a round three coming up.

No big surprise, but the new Bird Names record, Open Relationship, is a piece of weirdo pop brilliance that sounds pretty much unlike anything else happening right now, unless there's such a thing as a Chinese Os Mutantes I don't know about. It's so good that the powerful positive vibes surrounding its release cannot be contained in just one party, so the band is taking over Ronny's for two nights this weekend. They've packed both bills with quality openers. Tonight they're bringing out freak-funkers Killer Whales and tomorrow Emmett Kelly's Cairo Gang will be along for the ride. Both shows are highly damn recommended. 

Tomorrow devout music nerds will celebrate one of our newer high holidays, Record Store Day, where indie stores will offer live music and goodies to remind people that iTunes isn't the end-all and be-all of the music-buying experience. All participating stores will be offering treats like limited-edition records from the likes of Steve Malkmus and Vampire Weekend, but a few are pretty much daring you not to spend your entire Saturday afternoon in a record store.

Permanent Records is offering in-store performances by locals Purricane and buzz band Grand Ole Party at around 3 PM, with a visually enhanced multi-boombox listening party for the Flaming Lips' uber-psychy four-CD set, Zaireeka. (In case you're one of those people who didn't care about the Flaming Lips yet in 1997, that's the one where you're supposed to listen to the discs all at once.)

At Reckless's Wicker Park location there's an in-store by Rogue Wave at 5 PM, and freelance mind-wizard Steve Krakow--the guy behind the Plastic Crimewave Sound, Galactic Zoo Dossier, and the Reader's own Secret History of Chicago Music comic--will be drawing rock 'n' roll caricatures on demand from noon till 6 PM.

Both the Grand Ole Party/Rogue Wave shows at Schubas this weekend are sold out, so if you don't already have tickets these will be your only opportunities to catch them this time out.

Record Breakers at 2109 S. State is going balls-out with a ton of live performances--American Draft, Amplified Heat, Chicago Green Counterpunch, Daphne Willis, Doppler Shift, Green Sugar, Hot Garbage, How Far Too Often, KB Duo, Lorimer Sound, Moving Targets, Ronnie Rock & Blues, Seth McGaha, Sonny's Dog, Sybris, We Are the Willows, White Devil, Power Space, Too Sweet, the Fastest Kid Alive--as well as free hot dogs and 20 percent off everything they sell. That is some serious Record Store Day spirit.

For more information, check out the post on the Reader's Free Shit blog.

Something strange just happened that allows me to follow up on two of my recent column subjects at once: Perez Hilton has endorsed the 1900s.

In the high-quality prose I expect from him, he says: "When I Say Go is perhaps our favorite song of theirs. It's SO good and authentic-sounding, you'd swear it was a cover!" Whatever that means!

Also, dude completely jacked the Hayley Murphy photo that ran with my column. He didn't even bother to credit her.

In my current column on new ideas about music-making interfaces I talk a bit about a crazy contraption called the Reactable that frankly fills me with indecent techno-lust. This morning I got an e-mail from one of the device's creators, Sergi Jordà of the Music Technology Group at Pompeu Fabra University, telling me that they're installing one permanently in Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry on May 15th. I am very much looking forward to making a bunch of next-level electronic jams on that thing with a bunch of kindergartners.

In case you weren't aware, 23 Chicago public school students have been killed so far this year. That is completely fucked-up, to say the least. 

Local rapper Pugslee Atomz is doing his part to call attention to how fucked-up it is. He's recorded a new song about the situation, "You and Me," and it's one of the funkiest political jams I've heard in a long while. On Sunday night Pugs performs at the Cubby Bear with KRS-One, who's in town on a Stop the Violence publicity junket. Before the show the Teacha is doing a press conference at the Thompson center and appearing at a BBQ at the Flawless Cuts on Halsted; afterward he's doing two days of lectures at Chicago public schools and a few radio appearances. More information and updates are available here.

I'm not going to try to say that KRS-One's recent material is great, but as a social activist he's tougher and smarter now than when he was blowing up with Boogie Down Productions. He and Pugs are going up against a terrible problem with high stakes and no one solution. It's a heavy position to be in. You could do plenty worse things with your Sunday night than go out and show them some love.

Don't make any plans to go iPod shopping downtown Wednesday evening--the Apple Store on Michigan Avenue is hosting a Counting Crows show, which means the place is going to be jam packed with grown-up members of the Alternative Nation and representatives from the new crop of emo kids that have come to revere the band. The show starts at 6 PM, but anyone interested in actually seeing anything should probably arrive considerably earlier.

I don't know if it exactly fits the theme of my column on crowdsourced videos and remixes, but it definitely fits the broader theme of fans applying their own creativity to the music they love: here's a video of the Blue Ribbon Glee Club singing "Waiting Room" synced up to old footage of Fugazi performing the original.

I thought I loved Bun B about as as much as humanly possible, not only for putting out such excellent records--months into listening, I'm only beginning to wrap my brain around UGK (Underground Kingz)--but also for being a one-man smooth-talking refutation of the stereotype that rappers are all ignorant animals.

Somehow, though, I found a little more love for him after seeing him talk to the Fader at SXSW about his forthcoming II Trill and our main man Barack Obama while wearing a hat from local sneaker-fetishist boutique Saint Alfred--a store where, all told, I've probably spent more money than in any other place in Chicago.

Empty Bottle cat-in-residence Radley celebrates turning approximately 75 (in cat years) last night.

Last week Andrew Bird and Dianogah played an Obama fund-raiser at the Hideout. Tickets started at $100, but in return for their donation concertgoers got to go home with one of 236 screenprinted show posters by local artist Kathleen Judge. The few that weren't given away are now up for auction (click on the "posters" link), and the proceeds will go straight to Barry's campaign. Because of the political-donation angle, there are limits on who can bid--foreigners, corporations, PACs, banks, and other organizations that want to show love for violin-based art-pop and Kennedy-esque politicians will have to look elsewhere.

The Hideout's schedule is heavy on the good-deeds-doing at the moment. Zebo, the Gutter Butter DJs, and a few other people are spinning a dance party on Thursday to benefit Iraq Veterans Against the War, and Saturday is the bar's annual send-off party for Chicago bands heading down to SXSW, with 12 hours of live music by and for acts bound for the festival--the artists will get some cash and supplies to help them on the trip down to Texas.

I've been on an exploitation-flick tear recently, and my latest score is Tough Guys aka Three Tough Guys, a 1974 blaxploitation flick notable for featuring loverman/Scientologist Isaac Hayes in one of the only starring roles he ever landed.

As a film it's OK--not as good as Shaft, not as bad as Black Terminator. Hayes and an Italian priest--don't ask, it's complicated--are trying to solve some sort of crime, which somehow necessitates such methods as beating up a woman, taking a piss on some mafia dudes' faces, and calling a cop a faggot. Two things make it a jam: the location shots around Chicago, which provide a grainy snapshot of the city when the Sears Tower was still brand new, and the soundtrack, which was also Hayes's work. The main theme is a weird hybrid of Shaft-y hi-hat and strings with an insanely funky combo of massive analog synth and freaky-ass fuzz guitar. It's a super-badass track--so badass, in fact, that a bunch of kung-fu filmmakers have stolen it for their own movies, a tradition Quentin Tarantino continued when he used it to score O-Ren Ishii's animated backstory in Kill Bill Vol. 1.

Are you a fan of the Redwalls and/or the Windy City Rollers? Do you like getting up early on Sunday mornings? The band's shooting a video with the roller girls this weekend, and they need extras. The details, via Tim Tuten at the Hideout:

Redwalls "Game of Love" Music Video
Date: Sunday February 3rd, 2008
Location: 2450 W. Hubbard St.
Time: 8:30 AM (for 4 to 5 hours)
Parking: Street Parking and there is also a parking lot on Campbell that is owned by the building we are shooting in. It's OK to park in there.

Concept: We are shooting this video along with the Windy City Rollers. Please visit their website http://www.windycityrollers.com/. The basic concept is the band will be playing in the center of a skating rink with the Windy City Rollers in a competition surrounding them. The WCR's tire of the band very quickly and begin to get a bit aggressive. They start getting in the band’s way. But no worries, eventually, it all works out in the end! More direction will come once on set and from the director.

Your role: You will be acting as Windy City Roller fans! So, please come looking like roller derby fans, characters, flamboyant, colorful, rough and rowdy and bring more than one option.... no white or visible logos.

One more thing please bring a chair to sit in, a book or magazine to read and your ipod. There will definitely be a little downtime. Also, please come having eaten and bring your own snack.

Please contact: redwallsvideo (at) gmail (dot) com if you are interested and available. Note: YOU MUST CHECK IN WITH ME PRIOR TO COMING TO SET. NO ONE WILL BE ADMITTED UNLESS PREVIOUSLY APPROVED.

Thanks! Alexis

After spinning more than 170 shows in 2007, Flosstradamus is taking some well-deserved time off. While the duo's laying low, J2K is cleaning out his room and running an eBay side hustle. Most of his offerings are things you'd expect from a hipster-beloved DJ, like spare Oakleys, a lot of ten Mishka T-shirts, and one of those confusing Japanese watches from the future. The real surprise is his recently retired iBook, which went through all those shows with him. To quote the item description, there are "about 25 gigs of music on it, lots of Flosstradamus exclusives, along with serato, ableton, and flossy fx, our patented effects program." That means it could end up a pretty good deal, unless some maniacal J2K fan goes bonkers because he autographed it and bids it through the roof. At this very moment the top bid is $213.83.

Oh, and here comes a press release telling me everything I just typed. Also, and I quote, "Flosstradamus are currently at work on their debut album to be released in Summer 2008. Including fellow Chicago-based artists such as Kid Sister, The Cool Kids, and Philadelphia-based MC Amanda Blank, Flosstradamus will be handling production duties, showcasing their signature party-rocking expertise in the studio as well as the club." So there you go.

I caught the Busy Signals last night. They were excellent--as were Shopping--but that's hardly news, as they generally kick ass full-time. So why am I posting? Busy Signals front woman Ana McGorty had on a Shivvers shirt--you can see it at Spin.com's review here--that reawakened the earworm that is "Teen Line," which had laid dormant in my brain for . . . OK, maybe since earlier in the day. Ever since I ran across the song a couple months ago I've been completely hooked and wake up more days than not with it already playing in my head. And so I pass this blessing that is a curse onto you. Here are the Shivvers playing "Teen Line" live in the studio for a TV station in Madison:

If you find yourself hooked, there's a bunch of Shivvers material available through Hyped to Death. 

Last week I got a package in the mail from local pop band/comedy act Let's Get Out of This Terrible Sandwich Shop. Inside was a copy of a "press release outtake" that I have reproduced below. It was handwritten--sloppily--so this is my best attempt at computer-styling it. [Sic]s abound, etc.

SANDWICH SHOP DECLARES A MORATORIUM ON THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS COMPARISONS

Chicago, IL -- LGOOTTSS, Chicago's #1 premiere band-with-people has declared a moratorium on comparisons to They Might Be Giants.

They do not listen to that band. Only one member has owned any of their albums. Thea has a cassette copy of Flood which has never been heard in the SS van. 

They Might Be Giants is a good band + LGOOTTSS is not. So quit comparing us to them.

Here is a a list of more accurate descriptions

- Song poems

- B52s

- The Shaggs

- [indecipherable]

- The Vaselines

- Run-DMC w/girls, an owl + a cat

- Pavement bought a Farfisa + a cat + an owl

- The Shagg's dad died/Deerhoof on xanax

- The B52s cover Rodd Keith w/o an ascot

- Keith Moon joined the Vaselines so he could do stand-up betwn songs

- What if the Talking Heads met on a rainbow?

- Belly took some improv classes

- Paul Shaffer conducts the Banana Splits/Sour Grapes showdown

- Yo La Tengo w/a smaller record collection

- Ernie Kovacs discovers Sleater Kinney

- They Might Be Giants 

For the first night of the city's new smoking ban it was an unkind 15 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I've been ambivalent about the ban--as someone who's trying to quit smoking and whose job puts me in clubs most nights of the week, I was looking forward to it, but as someone who still bums smokes while I'm out, I was less sanguine. I went out last night half* to see how people were going to react now that the long-planned ban has become a very literally chilling reality.

If you've been to any other city with a smoking ban, you know it's not that big a pain to adapt to the routine of stepping outside for your cig. The little spin Chi-town puts on things is that here it can get way more extremely horrible outside--like, say, right now--so last night the sidewalk smokers were giving up after half a cigarette and heading back into the club.

Craftier addicts met 2008 with cunning plans that would (at least in theory) let them indulge their habit without exposing themselves to the elements--I personally witnessed smokers hiding in the bathroom and exhaling through a cardboard tube stuffed with dryer sheets. Knowing that some Chicago citizens are constructing actual MacGyver-type devices to help them get around a law that's supposed to help them be healthier, it's hard not to feel a bit of civic pride welling up. 

*The other half of my reason was the Waterbabies, who are so fucking good it's hard to take. 

Local doom merchants Seventh Rule are known for putting out metal records of an ass-beatingly heavy nature, but at heart they're a bunch of softies. Example: their current eBay auction of a lot of rare and out of print vinyl to benefit the Chicago Canine Rescue Foundation, which saves not only pit bulls and stuff but cute little kittens as well.

Here's what's being offered:

BURIED AT SEA – SHE LIVED FOR OTHERS BUT DIED FOR US (SWIRLED GREY VINYL, LTD TO 200 PRESSED, OUT OF PRINT)

INDIAN – THE UNQUIET SKY 2xLP (RED SPLATTER VINYL, LTD to 99 PRESSED, OUT OF PRINT)

AKIMBO – ELEPHANTINE (BLACK VINYL, 542 PRESSED, OUT OF PRINT)

AKIMBO – CITY OF THE STARS LP (PARANOID RECORDS PRESSING, LTD GREY VINYL)

SWEET COBRA – PRAISE (RED VINYL, LTD to 200 PRESSED, w/ 2 SIDED SCREENED POSTER)

INDIAN – SLIGHTS AND ABUSE (LTD CLEAR VINYL, LTD to 177 PRESSED)

The bidding's currently just past the hundred dollar mark, which is an absolute steal for what's up for grabs here. If the pairing of Indian and "red splatter vinyl" alone isn't worth at least that much, I don't know what is.

Remember my column from a while back about Kid Sister shooting her first video? Well it's finally all edited and it's funny as hell. There's way more finger dancing than I was prepared for, and apparently I think people making their hands act like little people is the funniest shit in the world because I can't stop cracking up during those parts. Keep your eyes open for the cameo by J2K from Flosstradamus and for A-Trak trying to look cool while DJ-miming from inside a large potted plant.

Rhymes with Snitch has a rundown on Dr. Jan Adams—the plastic surgeon who worked on Kanye's mother, Dr. Donda West, before she died—and the assload of legal problems he's had, including six malpractice suits in the last two years and a restraining order from an ex-girlfriend. I would hate to be in Dr. Jan's loafers right now, staring down a mega-rich superstar with a known aversion to backing down from fights and a mama complex of extreme magnitude, even for a rapper.

I did get to spend some time with Dr. West a while back at a fundraiser for the Kanye West Foundation. She seemed exceptionally intelligent, caring, and strong as hell, and it was easy to see why Kanye worships her the way he does. I think everyone in the room at one point or another during the event thought to themselves, "Wouldn't it be great if she was my mom?"

A girl just called in to Power 92 looking to beg for tickets to Jay-Z's sold-out-in-a-minute show at the House of Blues next week. It wasn't ticket giveaway time yet, but Donnie Devoe offered to give her a ticket if she'd go up to her boss—she was at work—and slap him across the face with her thong.

She declined, but I imagine there are more than a few women out there who'd go through with it. Actually, if they played it right, I'm sure the Power 92 DJs could easily turn much of Chicago into their own personal army by dangling Jigga tickets in front of them. I'd kind of like to see them use said personal army to pull a Chitown coup and overthrow the city government. I'm sure that a bunch of DJs from the station that's Number One in the Streets couldn't do a worse job of running things. Then again I'm the guy who wrote in "replace everyone in city government with a drawing of kitties" on my ballot in the last election, a decision I still stand by 100 percent.

Thrill Jockey's plans for its 15th anniversary have been slowly trickling out. A little while back the label announced Plum, a seven-inch box set of Thrill Jockey artists covering other Thrill Jockey artists. Now word's gotten out about the real party: two nights at Chicago's own Logan Square Auditorium on December 14 and 15. Seventeen acts are on the bill so far and surprise guests are guaranteed—there are some fairly strong hints of one-off collaborations and other hijinks—but exactly who's playing when or on what night is top secret, so if there's anyone in particular you have to see, you're going to have to show up early.

The label also handed their entire back catalog over to Trey Tell Em—a duo that includes Gregg Gillis, aka Girl Talk—to create the Super Epic Thrill Jockey Mega Massive Mix, a blend of pretty much everything TJ's ever done. The Trans Am megamix available here bodes well for the project. When the full disc is released I could find myself in the perplexing position of actually enjoying something by Girl Talk, which makes me shudder just a little.

Tickets are $50 for the weekend, and should be available through the Empty Bottle's site soon-ish.

Here's the lineup so far:

ADULT.
Fred Anderson Trio
Arbouretum
Brokeback
Califone
Bobby Conn
Angela Desveaux
Eleventh Dream Day
The Fiery Furnaces
Frequency
Pit er Pat
Archer Prewitt
School of Language
The Sea and Cake
Trans Am
Thalia Zedek

Local princes of rock music the Mannequin Men should still be riding high on their successful showing at the CMJ festival, but alas that's not the case. Last night most of their gear was stolen from their van while it was parked in Logan Square. Here's the list:

-Gibson SG Special, faded brown color, two open coil Seymour Duncan pick-ups, sticker of Wimpy from Popeye on back

-Epiphone Les Paul Jr., single P-90 pickup, faded yellow, busted input jack sticker of Olive Oyl and Popeye

-Fender DeVille 4X10 combo amp with grey grillcloth 10db input is busted.

-Ampeg combo bass amp

-cymbal bag (with one Zildjian crash and Paiste hi-hats) and hardware bag 

Anyone spotting the gear in the wild is encouraged to hit the band up on MySpace.

Seems to be a trend this week. 

It's been a while since the Fake Fictions sent me demos for their upcoming second album, Krakatoa, which they probably would've finished by now if they hadn't lost a bunch of gear in a practice space fire. They're regrouped and regeared now, and have just started tracking in their new space with an old eight-track recorder (a Tascam 488 mk I, to be specific). Though the band—specifically front man Nick Ammerman—steadfastly refuse to record on a computer, they're not averse to documenting the process on one. Their making-of-Krakatoa blog is live in all its spunky DIY glory. The FFs generally function less on actual technical prowess and infrastructure and more on pure enthusiasm, and that includes their recording methods, resulting in some entertaining reading. Ammerman, for instance, recently discovered that there are a number of reasons why you shouldn't use a drum as a mike stand.

Bonus material: Here's the band ripping jams in Rirkrit Tiravanija’s Untitled 1996 (Rehearsal Studio No. 6 Silent Version) at the MCA's "Sympathy for the Devil" exhibit.

Maybe you've wondered what Johnny Love, former enfant terrible of the Chicago party scene, has been up to since his move to LA. Maybe you've heard his collabo with Filip from Junior Senior, Guns 'n' Bombs, which has been *verb that is not "exploding," "blowing up," or any other bomb-related pun* all over the world of dance music.

But, you may ask yourself, most importantly, is he getting enough exercise? Signs point to yes:

So either half the rappers in town got together and decided to just take over October, or else it's just a coincidence that they've all clogging the Internets with new stuff. Either way, it's a pretty nice situation.

Hollywood Holt's following up on his unexpectedly blown-up tribute to the moped lifestyle with a full-length mix tape, available as a free download at his new site. He's got the energy and attention span of a Ritalin-amped six year old, and bounces from Dirty South-style ringtone joints to neo-hip-house club tracks to throwback shit that can remind you of a time when LL Cool J wasn't a complete embarrassment. There's not a lot of nuance going on here, but it's a partywrecker, and who wants to think about stuff at a party?

Vice has more good-times rap from Kid Sister on a Sinden remix of Chromeo's "Tenderoni." That latest Chromeo album is near the top of my "most listened" list for the year, Sinden consistently slays with his remix work, and Kid Sister is pure fun, so if someone wants to blend it all up into one big hedonistic electro-funk mess, that's fine by me.

The Cool Kids just dropped their new video for "Black Mags," strengthening the connection between Chicago rappers and unconventional forms of transportation. In this case it's BMX bikes, but they throw in some mopeds to keep themselves covered. I was given "Black Mags" while I was working on my Cool Kids column, and somehow without my noticing it's gone from being my least favorite of their songs to maybe my most favorite. The video looks completely professional. We'll see how it competes with the moped hit.

Last week Stereogum posted Drive XV, an album-length tribute to REM's Automatic for the People, an album that turned, shockingly, 15 damn years old on October 5th. Chicago's well-represented by Catfish Haven's gloom-folk take on "Monty Got a Raw Deal" and the Narrator's bonus track, "Try Not to Breathe", which actually sounds like it could be a missing track from their recent (and excellent) All That to the Wall.

Catfish Haven bassist Miguel Castillo writes in his liner notes, "Many a beer was consumed in honor of this project." Jesse Woghin from the Narrator, on his band's cryptic credit, "Additional programming by the Mannequin Men DJs," says, "Seth [Bohn, drummer for the Mannequin Men] was there drinking beer for 1 of the 2 days of recording." So Chi-Town may be able to claim not only two of the best tracks on the comp, but also the most beeriest. Way to go, guys. You make us proud.

Weather.com is telling me that Sunday will be yet another fine-ass Indian Summer day, which means there is little reason to miss the big outdoor party at the MCA that afternoon. It's our last real chance this year to stand around outside watching bands while drinking at an irresponsibly early hour. I'm sure it'll spark some reminiscing among friends about all the other times this summer that they've stood around watching bands and drinking. "Remember that ironic 80s-jogger-looking guy who tried to crowd surf during Mastodon's set at Pitchfork?" one might ask. "Yeah," his friend would reply, "he looked really awkward, like he realized halfway in that he's not comfortable with physical contact with strangers." "Hilarious." That kind of thing.

Also there will be a ton of kickass hometown jams being put down in a ruthless fashion at the following times by the following acts:

1:00     Headache City
1:40     Poster Children
2:30     1900s
3:20     Califone
4:15     The Eternals
5:00     Flosstradamus with Cool Kids

As a bonus, the MCA's rock-and-art exhibit, Sympathy for the Devil, will be open for perusal. And the whole thing is free. 

A few weeks ago I heard that R. Kelly would be filming the video for his next single, "Rock Star," downtown, with Michigan Avenue closed off for a live performance with Ludacris and Kid Rock on a flatbed truck and a bunch of helicopters filming it and all sorts of Hype Williams-meets-James Cameron ish. It looks like the project's scale had to be pulled back, because now it's just them playing a relatively small room with zero helicopter shots.

But one part of the video concept that I first heard about made it in: local guyliner proponents Kill Hannah play Kells, Luda, and Kid Rock's backing band. One can only hope that R. is considering them for a far stranger Best of Both Worlds collabo.

For their new video, "Oh My," Office went for a skanky, retro-porntastic 80s vibe. Even professional porn-hounds approve of the finished product—it appeared not only on Gawker Media's music blog, Idolator, but also on its sex-obsessed sibling site, Fleshbot. From the number of warnings plastered on the video's site you might expect that you were about to see some full penetration, but the whole thing's safe for work, which is probably a bummer if you have some sort of thing for jerking off while listening to bouncy pop music. Which I'm guessing some people out there do.

Q101's figured out how to get people to sit through the entirety of a new Hanson song: by not telling them they're listening to Hanson. Apparently the scam had some success, as the song, "The Great Divide," became the station's most requested song. When Q101 finally revealed who the "mystery artist" was, digital sales jumped 95 percent. I would've expected rather a mass reaction along the lines of the end of Oldboy, multiplied by a thousand.

Via Gerard vs. Bear, which seems to be back in action after some downtime.

Here's a blog post from Kurt Reighely at the Stranger about the passing of Lydia Tomkiw, the singer and poet who fronted the Chicago duo Algebra Suicide in the late 80s and early 90s. When I first moved here in 1992, Hope, my roommate, was fascinated with their album The Secret Like Crazy, particularly the song Little Dead Bodies. She played it all the time, and I never stopped liking it—it's got such a light touch with its wry morbidity. Tomkiw and her partner at the time, Don Hedeker—yes, that Don Hedeker—had a sort of Dave Stewart/Annie Lennox vibe. You'd never mistake them for anything other than an 80s band now, but still, it was lovely stuff. A shining moment.

Tomkiw moved to New York in the early 90s and wound up collaborating with Edward Ka-Spel and the Legendary Pink Dots on some songs for her 1995 solo album, Incorporated. She was living in Phoenix when she died. To learn more about her, check out this terrific article about her by Bart Plantenga.

It probably makes me a bad person that I'm feeling slightly happy over the news that Dan Deacon had a cherished stage prop stolen from him. I mean, it's true that I've had to endure the blazing Technicolor annoyance machine that is his live show several times, and been in dozens of arguments with people who insist Deacon isn't the worst thing since car accidents, but I shouldn't let myself sink so low that I find joy in the extreme amount of emotional trauma this sweaty man-child is suffering through. To my shame, I'm even feeling a little civic pride that the theft occurred in Chicago. What a fucking bastard I am.

Lissen up—if you stole dude's beloved green skull, send it back to him. If you did it to fuck with his little head, you've done well. If you did it out of some misguided infatuation with him, well, I'm sure you'll grow out of that eventually—hopefully soon. Either way, MySpace the guy, or if you are, as Deacon writes in an atypical aggro outburst, a "thief coward," you can email sam@windishagency.com to arrange delivery. Before you do so, please take many pictures of the skull in hilarious settings and e-mail them to me. I'm sure I'll feel terrible about enjoying them.

I dropped in on the Elliott Smith tribute at the Bottle for a little bit on Saturday. It was less exciting than I had hoped, and more crowded with grown-up frat boys than I would ever have guessed. 

The upside of the show was that I got into a conversation about Elliott Smith bootlegs with one of my friends, and he told me that there was a decent audience-recording of a Smith solo set at the Bottle from right around the time of Figure 8's original release. You can find it here. The recording quality is indeed decent—although if you want to download, hit up the FLAC links instead of the low-bitrate MP3s—and the performance is pretty excellent. In fact, the rendition of "Independence Day" is the best I've ever heard. Chicago bonus: During "St. Ides Heaven" then-Chicagoan Rebecca Gates steps up to handle backing vocals. 

The new issue of Spin showed up at my house today, and after giving it a cursory flip through I'd say it looks like the magazine has a serious boner—that's a journalism term—for the City of Chi right now. The Spin Mix lists Miss Alex White & the Red Orchestra's sugar-thrash treat "Squeaky Clean" and the bumping remix of Matt & Kim's "Yea Yeah" that Flosstradamus (described here as "DJ gremlins") did a little while back. A few pages later there's a picture of Kid Sister alongside a description that makes her come off as some sort of club gangsta rather than a fun-time lady who raps about getting her nails done. Then Office shows up with a full-page profile that's oddly focused on their drinking abilities. It's a full-on Chicago party up in there.

Just as I was thinking how weird it is that I've probably seen half of this month's Spin together in the same room, I got an e-mail alerting me that the Mannequin Men—local purveyors of "tight-pants swagger"—are today's band of the day at Spin.com. You can and should download the track "Boys" from their upcoming Fresh Rot here. (Full disclosure: I wrote the bio for Fresh Rot's press materials and those guys are my bros.)

I smell a "Chicago is the New Seattle Austin Portland Montreal New York" trend piece in our near future.