Bug feat. Warrior Queen, "Poison Dart"

Just in case you had any doubt, US terror policy is still ruining your summer. The latest victim: highly anticipated UK legend Bug, who was on his way to play a Basstown gig at Great Scott this Saturday. Via the Basstown facebook alert:

Not long ago, we teamed up with our sister mag Stuff at Night to bring together eight of Boston's finest DJs to shoot the shit about the state of dance music in our fair city. It turned out to be far more interesting than we had any right to expect it would be, and may even have squashed some beef in the process. Was kinda awesome to see the youngbloods pay respects to a 20-year vet like Bruno, who sat at the head of the table and dispensed knowledge like the Godfather. And it was also awesome to be able to make what we hope will be some lasting introductions. The conversation meandered from practical advice -- like how to handle obnoxious requests -- to big-picture shit, like Bruno and the Soul Clap dudes talking about the evolution of tastes and audiences, Baltimoroder dropping ready-for-dissertation paragraphs on the effects of technology on the profession, and DJ Knife lamenting his switchover to Serrato. You can watch the trailer above, and read the whole article over at StuffAtNight as part of their annual music issue.

But the best thing to come out of this whole meeting was a commitment to actually get everyone in the room on the same bill -- no small feat, and in our minds kinda historic in terms of bringing together a bunch of different scenes. Tonight, all eight DJs from the roundtable will be taking turns on the turntables at the Good Life, launching what we hope will become a regular everyone-and-the-kitchen-sink event. But on the off chance that never happens, you might want to stop by. It's free, with complimentary PBR for the early birds: but it's also list-only, so make sure to rsvp to RSVP@stuffatnight.com.

>>DOWNLOAD: DJ Ms. DD, The Trannysphere #1 [mp3]

About once a week, for as long as we can remember, one of the Phoenix's most senior critics, Michael Freedberg, would come into the office to pick up his check, and then, on his way out, as a way of saying "hello," he'd stop by the arts desk and launch into a monologue, often aimed at no one in particular. It wasn't idle conversation: he was professoring. He has one of those lawyer's voices (he being, in fact, a lawyer): the iron-plated, stentorian tone you'd associate with someone who'd watched old Abe Lincoln biographs from the 1950s. He would talk about Led Zeppelin, about electro, or spend an hour hectoring us to listen to some new Mylene Farmer album, or a Prince b-side, or an Arabic dance band he'd found on some European offshoot of Amazon.com. Michael Freedberg is one of those Rushmore-sized visages of the legendary-rock-crit days: although he spends his fruitful hours doing legal work, and is happy discoursing about the Greek and Latin classics, and has for 25 years or so voted conservative Republican, he has also been one of the most insightful and unique chroniclers of African American dance music of our time. At some crucial point in the '70s he ignored punk, embraced disco with both arms and both lobes of his brain, and ever since his has been a singular, lone voice in the wilderness -- his canon is no one else's canon, and as such he has sometimes found it difficult to communicate with his editors (except for the Phoenix's Matt Ashsare and Jon Garelick, who have given him the most work in recent years, and former Village Voice editor Chuck Eddy, whom Michael adores and who understood him completely). In the '70s Freedberg covered the greats of R&B, and had his Almost Famous moment touring with P-Funk for a week for the long-lost music rag Gig. In 1981, he discovered (then Roxbury-based) electro godfathers the Jonzun Brothers, and even provided the title for that group's most well-remembered song: they'd wanted to name it "Pac Man," but it was Freedberg, who knew what kind of legal trouble would come with that title, who convinced the label to call it "Pac Jam."

For those of you reading this at work: the weekend ain't over yet, snitches. Many of you will have Tuesdays bookmarked as Hearthrob night, but they're going early this week to accomodate a dude who we'd postpone Christmas to see. Even if you don't listen to SINDEN's UK radio show or have the funds to fly over the pond to catch his resident sets at Fabric, you've probably encountered his remixes, sets, image, and likeness on this blog and many others (those Mad Decent guys, for example, are obsessed). His Counterfeet label, with Dave "Switch" Taylor, is runnin' thangs.

For those of you reading this at work: the weekend ain't over yet, snitches. Many of you will have Tuesdays bookmarked as Hearthrob night, but they're going early this week to accomodate a dude who we'd postpone Christmas to see. Even if you don't listen to SINDEN's UK radio show or have the funds to fly over the pond to catch his resident sets at Fabric, you've probably encountered his remixes, sets, image, and likeness on this blog and many others (those Mad Decent guys, for example, are obsessed). His Counterfeet label, with Dave "Switch" Taylor, is runnin' thangs.

Monsterous edition of THUNDERDOME tonight, bringing Baltimore Clurb legend Scottie B and Spank Rock's Chris Rockswell to the decks, along with resident headbangers Micl Ptvn, Mistaker, and DJ Die Young to represent the home team. Special live-video guests: Robotkid (ask him how much the new Harmonix game Rock Band is gonna rule) and Matt Boch. Beware: it's at a new venue this month, and taking a cue from Robotkid's email, we're throwing in a map below instead of mpfrees.

YOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUAA!

BIRD FLU: tonight at Enormous Room

JT, "What Goes Around" at Boston Garden, 8/10/07

We've reviewed Justin Timberlake enough that we didn't expect to have anything new to say about his show at the Garden last night, a return trip on a tour that Sharon has already gushed about anyways. Partly we wanted to see how the crowd makeup changes when he had a so-called rock band opening (answer: an even larger ratio boost, this time it appeared to be about 12:1 women). Partly we wanted to see what the HBO special is going to look like. 

It got shut down by the Man at the early hour of 1 a.m. -- a first for the Elks -- but by that time people were sardined inside and outside, smoking like fiends, sweating off their fake blood, begging for more energy drinks. All told, the Friday the 13th edition of Thunderdome was on blast. Brooklyn of-the-moment DJ team Bangers came down and dropped eponymous heat til the mirrors misted in the back room; in the front, the resident Thunderdomers had zombie chicks making out with each other on the poles. There is video evidence -- including all of the above plus Big Digits TD in a Jason mask and Mike Mistaker's roving Freddy Krueger glove -- but fuck if we know when we'll get around to editing it. In the meantime, K. Bonami's snaps will have to do. Extra special thanks for Cami (ex-OTD, current VVM) for getting shitfaced and goading us into interviewing random girls, one of whom turned out to be an alum of our esteemed alma mater in Philly -- a joint whose lesser alums include Noam Chomsky, Bill Cosby, and DJ Jazzy Jeff. (Speaking of which, dudes: who let these 269 poseurs hijack the CHS Wikipedia page? Everyone knows the best class ever was the 249. Jeez.)

GOING:

When he's not destroying parties as half of the Certified Bananas crew, DJ P. Nice mans the decks for the Providence party-funk trio Miss Fairchild, alongside this little dude who sings like Prince and this big dude who plays the flute. Trust us, it's genius. Combining both talents, P. Nice has just dropped the preview Miss Fairchild mixtape, which spins four new tracks into the hot old-school shit by Tony Toni Tone and Morris Day. Grab it now, then get over to Harpers Ferry tonight to catch them with OTD faves UV Protection.

One of America's unsexiest men, and one of the world's unlikeliest rap sensations, together at last. You've gotta register for some website to get in, but it's free, and it's Wednesday. Holler.

(Tia made the pilgrimage to the OTD compound in Pittsburgh for Mom's Day and returned with the following dispatch)