A Picture's Worth

I feel like I struck gold when Chip Py said he'd come out and take pictures of the bands for me. If you look at some of my older postings, you might see sort of lousy snapshots taken with my camera, or when I was really desperate, my phone, but it was better than nothing. Now all I have to do is relax if Chip's on the job, and hopefully he'll stick around because a girl could get used to this. Fast.
So if you couldn't make it to any of the Slickee Boys shows over the weekend, or if you did - you can get a good idea of what went on by heading over to Chip's site for more great shots like these two- plus more of The Beatnik Flies, Prabir and The Substitutes and The Howling Mad. Take it away photo guy. You rock.
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It's Not Completely Too Late

Slickees at the Surf by Chip Py


If you weren't there- you missed a great night. The Slickee Boys show at Chick Hall's was a blast. All three bands- The Slickees, The Beatnik Flies and Prabir wowed the crowd. Look for more pictures of last night's show taken by Chip Py, DC ROCKS own indefatigable photographer, coming to this site soon.

And Slickee fans - you can still get 'em while there hot at The Ottobar tonight in Baltimore.
Tonight's bill also includes The Howling Mad ( Ex- Razz) Chelsea Graveyard and the Screams at Midnight (the band with the world's longest name) AND Jukebox Zeros. Doors at 8 - all ages venue.

Part Two: How Slickees Meet Flies... OR.... Who Is This Martin Guy Anyway?

When we last left our heroes, (below in yesterday's posting) they were still operating out of various bedrooms scattered across the DC area, but Martin wanted to get their sound recorded. Marshall remembers:

He had this whole concept. He was changing his name to Kim Kane for the record, and the band would be called The Slickee Boys. Martin grew up on a base in Korea, and "slickee boys" were street punks that sold the GIs black market items. He played us a few obscure 1960s punk songs that we learned. He gave me chords to a song he was trying to write. I added a bunch of lead guitar to it. He gave Martha three times as many lyrics as were needed, and she chopped them down to fit. "Hands slide down snakes, a curling black-eyed sweetness, we're in a mandarin red-veiled dream." I had an instrumental version of "Exodus" I was working on. The record was called Hot and Cool. We went in a studio, and actually recorded it. He took care of all the art work and printing, and we actually put it out. I was shocked!

Getting the outfits for the cover photo started us all on a lifelong fascination with thrift stores. It matched the music. We were playing music that no one wanted anymore, just like the clothes in the Good Will. Recycling to the max.

Meanwhile, those three lost beatnik boys of Bethesda had moved into a group house in Wheaton. It was 1976, and something happened that changed everything according to Joe Dolan:
Somehow we came into possession of a "NY ROCKER" magazine which featured a pictorial of the NYC punk scene. Well, that was it. It was like a revelation from God above. Out came the real amps and drum kits. We were possessed, we were going to be punk rockers ( I couldn't play the electric guitar for shit, but I wasn't going to let that stop me). We spent the next few years playing the usual basement, garage, friend's party etc., but we never played at real rock clubs because we didn't think we were good enough. Then somehow by the grace of the rock gods, we were invited to play at DC Space.
We were playing with Black Market Baby. The place was packed; it seemed like anyone who was anyone in the DC music scene was there. When we got up to play our set, I had my shades on. After a few numbers I took them off and the audience started shouting " put the shades back on" ( that's how the shade thing got started). After we finished playing, Skip Groff came up to talk to us. He told us we would be perfect with The Slickee Boys, so we gave him our number. Lo and behold, a few days later Kim Kane called us and invited us to play with them at the Psychedelly in Bethesda. The rest is history, I've long since lost track of how many times we've played with them, but the excitement has never left.

Get over to the Surf Club tomorrow night and you can catch the excitement yourself in a rare reunion of both The Beatnik Flies and The Slickee Boys. Get there early and check out Prabir. The show starts at 9 p.m. Don't miss it.




P.S. And TONIGHT another legendary band comes back to life- The Rosslyn Mountain Boys
are at El Boqueron II in Rockville. (And I can't help using the word legend. It's not an exaggeration- this town has quite a few.)

Penny Dreadful Part One... or HoW The Slickee Boys and The Beatnik Flies Came to BE

In the early 1970s a lot of music was going on around here- on the radio, out in the clubs and in many a teenage boy's bedroom.
Marshall Keith remembers it this way:
I was hiding out in my room in Wheaton, MD in the 1970s playing guitar and making tapes. I didn't have a good guitar or amp, so I tried to make up for it by doubling, quadrupling, and octupling tracks of guitar (and whatever keyboards I could borrow from my friend, Charles). I liked to mess around with speeding up, slowing down, and reversing tracks- anything to make them sound unlike some guy... with a guitar... in his bedroom.

Meanwhile not so far away in Bethesda, Joe Dolan was in HIS room, listening to Beatles' records with his friends, Larry and Kenny. Joe says: Back then I used to write songs on a four string tenor guitar. In those days, Kenny and Larry would join in playing table tops, beer cans, you name it, anything we could get a sound out of. Kenny eventually found a used bass guitar, which he would play through the record player. Other rockers would never take us seriously, so we ended up performing at coffee houses. We even played at the Cellar Door's Hootenanny. We were rockers at heart, but we became known as folkies.

Then Marshall met Martin. A mutual friend thought Martin looked somewhat out of place hanging out at Montgomery Mall, and she sought him out. (Anyone who has ever seen The Slickee Boys can say amen here.)
Martin's room, Marshall recalls-was like somebody had packed a museum into a bedroom. Not only did he have thousands of oddities everywhere, he had a million records in nice neat stacks. There were some Dali-esque oil paintings he had done. He was very enthusiastic about showing us everything. "This is a Coca Cola from India. I don't want it opened, so whatever you do don't accidentally open it." I think he was nervous that we were even looking at it.

He was enthusiastic about his records too. He had all this stuff we had never heard of-I can't exactly remember what it was, but like: Mexican Mersey beat, Japanese 1960s punk, Indian movie soundtracks. It was so different than what we listened to, it was hard to even relate to it.
About a year after meeting Marshall, Martin wanted to make a record with Marshall. He asked Martha Hull to sing, Andy Von Brand to play bass, and Chris Rounds to play drums. Martin's brother, brother Thomas (who was 14) was going to play bass on one song, too.

Stay tuned for tomorrow's exciting episode entitled "How The Boys Got Out of Their Rooms" or "When Slickees Fly" to find out what happened next.

And don't forget you can see these fine local musicians plus relative new comers Prabir and The Substitutes at the now ephemeral establishment Chick Hall's THIS FRIDAY.
The perfect antidote to cranberry overload.

Happy X mas

Dear Readers
Hope you had a good holiday which in my mind includes parties, music, eggnog or any excuse to drink with family and friends. (I know my family made fun of me when I showed up with a half gallon of rum, but nobody turned me down either.)


(Chris Watling, Derek Huston and Kevin Cordt)

By the way, Last Train Home was great last Sunday at Iota with not only Derek Huston sitting in, but also the amazingly versatile Jon Carroll. Just when you thought you'd seen it before- a show like that comes along.

Lots more to read coming up shortly-especially for Slickees/Beatnik Flies fans.

Old Home Weekend

Anyone who is missing the drum beat of Jack O' Dell with The Troubadours can go see him and the unstoppable Bill Kirchen this Friday night for a special holiday gig at Jammin' Java. It should be a crazy show as saxophonist extraordinaire, Derek Huston will be driving up from New Orleans to sit in.

And at Iota it's the not so common anymore Last Train Home weekend. These shows used to be far more frequent before the band moved down to the big lights and bright city of Nashville.
But now there's the new Last Train Home DVD shot at Iota where they started out ten years ago. It's a nice souvenir for Iota patrons as well as Train fans and will be on sale at the shows this weekend. The Sunday matinee is a favorite of mine with drinking parents, dancing children and exhausted party goers- all mellowed out in this little club together. And you never know who'll be sitting in on one of these home based gigs.

Why DC Rocks

The darkest days of the year are with us now- hence for whatever reason, religious or otherwise, throughout the centuries, people have produced lights of their own when the sun fails them. Menorahs, Christmas lights, candles and bonfires- the evidence is everywhere in the abundance of parties and food to get us through these dark days.

Eight years ago our annual party had grown to over a hundred people. It was going to be on a Sunday, luminary night in our neighborhood. I was in the grocery store stacking the cart FULL of food. I called home to see if we needed anything else, and that was when I got the word our eight year old daughter had to go to Georgetown hospital. A blood test had come back with an abnormal count.

I abandoned cart.

She was admitted that night, but we were assured she'd be going home the next day...but they kept on doing tests. We called off the party. Finally, fed up with hospital bureaucracy and not even registering the word oncologist in my feeble brain, I was blind sided when this beautiful woman asked me to go down the hall to talk. It wasn't until she suggested I sit down that I had even a clue something was very wrong. Our girl had leukemia-a highly curable form of leukemia- but nevertheless not something I'd imagined happening. Next thing we knew it was years of chemo, hospital stays, and many, many dark days.

But meanwhile all those friends rallied round. Meals started coming in from them and from neighbors- and this went on for many months. The food not only helped ease our routine, but each contribution was a sign that we were not alone.

It's been five years since the treatments ended, and she is cancer free which is truly a miraculous thing. Despite the happy ending, I've never again been able to plan a big party at this time of year. Or even a small one. The best I can do is ask people over at the last minute and hope somebody can show up. Last Sunday night was one of those nights. It was luminary night again, though the high winds postponed the event. A few friends came over anyway and early on in the evening, carollers were out- many of them neighbors. We went out on the porch, and when they finished singing those that knew me came up and hugged me one by one- the same people that helped us get through those dark times so many years ago- bringing light out of the dark again.

So that's what I hope for all of you - that when all this rushing around commercial crap that comes this time of year makes you crazy-that you can step back and find the music and the light. (Well, not THE light- you know what I mean) There are a lot of good things and people and talent in this town-underneath it all. All of that and the Lombardi Center, too. Another reason why DC rocks.

Good Cause- Good Music- Can't Beat That

Saturday December 15

HUNGRY FOR MUSIC HOLIDAY BENEFIT at IOTA, 9pm

All proceeds go to Hungry For Music

JELLY ROLL MORTALS

THE GRANDSONS

LITTLE PINK

KAREN COLLINS

THE U-LINERS

2832 Wilson Blvd

Arlington VA

www.iotaclubandcafe.com

The Lizard King Really Did Sleep Here

Mark Opsasnick walks this earth part man, part detective, part living encyclopedia of DC centric music. I mean the man is unstoppable in his quest for knowledge of all things that make this "capital rock". I have just lately been waking up and realizing that we have a boatload of good music around here. (I always knew that we had our share, but I thought it was more of a shrimp boat - not the Queen Mary.) But Mark, a DC native, has been and still is working on the chronicles of our musical past for years. His book Capitol Rock covers the clubs and bands from 1951 until 1976-from teen clubs to the Capital Centre- chasing rumors and nailing down facts about DC stories. Did Jimi Hendrix really play with Roy Buchanan? Was Led Zeppelin's first DC gig at a teen club in Wheaton? This is the book with the answers. It stirs up memories of places like the Varsity Grill (whoa that hits home for me)and Strick's-and gives detailed histories of bands like The Cherry People, The Hangmen, and Grin.

(photo by Alan Kresse)

Another undertaking, The Lizard King Was Here, zeros in on Jim Morrison's time spent in Alexandria where he attended high school, and is filled with first hand accounts and extensive information- literary, social and musical- as well as local details. To say that Mark is a meticulous researcher is an understatement. He even mentions the orange bricks of the bookstores Morrison was said to frequent in Georgetown which he traces to a poem Morrison wrote.

The thing is the past is still with us: you can still go to concerts with national local stars like Nils Lofgren, Jack Casady and Jorma Kaukonen. More regional legends such as The Slickee Boys, The Beatnik Flies and Howling Mad (ex- Razz members) will be playing later this month. And now you can read about where they came from or who they grew up seeing right here in our own back yard. (Move over G.W.- let Jimi (and Jim) take over.) You can find the books at Mark's site:
www.capitolrock.com or hit the link at the top of this posting.

P.S. Don't miss The Slickees et al at The Surf Club Dec 28th- a show that just might make it into the next rock book.

Complicated Life

From Clint Maedgen

And New Orleans

I heard a story about riding the St Charles Streetcar on the radio this morning- one more step back from the abyss New Orleans faced when Katrina wreaked havoc there. The story stopped me in my tracks- just to hear that clacking noise and the whir of the motor was a great thing, but with it comes the stark reality that New Orleans is STILL suffering. Life went upside down for so many people - all over the gulf coast- and I feel compelled to remember they still need help.

A friend sent me this Complicated Life video (above) which I find mesmerizing. Maybe you have to have been there to get it, but to me it was another of a series of unexpected gifts from New Orleans. From the day I first fell for this city over twenty years ago up through that heartbreaking yet restorative Mardi Gras of 2006 (six months to the day after the storm) this town never fails to surprise me- whether it's a stranger kissing your cheek early Mardi Gras morning or the beauty of those ancient live oaks lining the streets. As our country gets swallowed up by chain store after chain store and mass attacks of vapid development, we need places with the character and the cultural strength that is New Orleans more than ever. I think if Louis Armstrong were alive today he wouldn't just be singing do you know what it means to miss New Orleans, but please don't forget New Orleans. Check out The New Orleans Musician's Relief Fund website or NOMRFmyspace page for more images and music and a way to help.

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Prabir Preview

Prabir and the Substitutes (Mark Noone's new favorite band) will be opening for The Slickee Boys and The Beatnik Flies later this month, but you can get a sneak peek at Richmond's boy wonders tonight at The Velvet Lounge. Part Beatles, part animals-they sing, and they swing from the rafters. Oh, and they rock. Come get out from under this weather. (It's why they made galoshes.)

Thursday

This morning I got up and went over to the computer to see if DC schools were open, but the movie Casablanca was already on the screen, and I couldn't get it off no matter what key I punched. I kept trying, but nothing worked. Then I woke up for real. It was 7:45- sun out, snow everywhere- and we were already an hour behind schedule. Back to the computer as the local news media rarely mentions the non-state of Washington, DC. (West Virginia, yes. Loudon County, sure, but DC?)
Finally I got the word- schools open on time. I roused my inmates. Everybody was morose, and skeptical. My son rechecked. "We 're the ONLY ones," he moaned.
Walking my smallest up to school, we saw one car spin out, and later a three car pile up. When we got to school I found out two neighbors had literally run into each other on a patch of black ice near Wilson High School. On the way back I saw another neighbor hit the deck, and a poor woman tottering down hill clinging to a fence to prevent involuntary slalom.
I don't know who's down there making the Big Decision, but I'm glad it's not me.
I've heard rumors that DC rarely closes because of the breakfast program- that kids won't be able to eat if schools don't open -which is a sad state of affairs. I have to wonder, though, if there shouldn't be some sort of separation of Breakfast and State.

In the meantime for all those with cabin fever after the BIG Storm, there's a dance at Chick Hall's tonight with Hillbilly Jazz featuring Chick Hall Jr. Yes, Chick's is still open, still sold, but under original management through the end of January. (And don't miss the big show-The Slickee Boys, The Beatnik Flies and Prabir and the Substitutes there later this month.)

Or a quieter night can be had with Patty Reese and guitar wizard, Dave Chappell down at 100 King.

Follow the Milk

It's got to be a conspiracy, or a business plan along the lines of the Mother's Day card phenomenon. Nobody could drink that much milk, and yet whenever the "S" word is mentioned in this town, the dirth of dairy is almost immediate. When I went to the store at 0 dark thirty this morning, I was dang lucky there was still a half gallon of one percent that someone had over looked, deep inside the case and perched on the back of the roller rack.
Is there something about snow and milk that I've missed? Besides they're being the same color?
Or are cows a lot smarter than we think?
I wonder- could the dairyland people possibly be filling the forecasters pockets? (which would give a whole new meaning to the expression "cash cow") All I know is snow is coming; milk is gone. Thank goodness the same thing doesn't happen with bourbon.

A Little Sunday Reading

This guy wrote me from England and sent me a link to his blog. I found it amusing- so if you are at leisure this bad mannered, promised to be bad weathered Sunday, check out his posting about trying to start a new wave band in D.C. ...back in the eighties....at John Kelly's Voxford.

Cafe C'est What Closed Down Today

To all you fellow music lovers, we lost one of our own today-Tom Terrell- who finally had to move on after struggling with cancer. It's kind of funny that just the thought of Tom, which has always made me smile, is making me cry today. Long ago, driving home from the old 9:30, I'd turn on the radio, and if he was on, I'd just laugh. Sometimes I'd call him up when I got home, and he always sounded so happy to hear from me- never bothered by the interruption. When he was spinning tunes on WHFS, he was "Tom Tee", and his show was called "Cafe C'est What" which is just so Tom. I know that was a million years ago, but I still remember how fun it was- he just loved to share his love of music with everybody.

I went to Tom's site today. He writes about that love so well, I'm letting him take over. Here's an excerpt from a memoir he'd been working on:

I remember how music somehow always made things better. When I was lost in the music, I found hope, freedom, joy, magic; I found me. WNJR, WABC, WWRL were my flashlights that chased away the darkness, Sonny Taylor, Dan Ingram, Frankie Crocker, Murray The K were my Obi Wan Kanobies. James Brown, the Temptations, the Miracles, the Rolling Stones, the Beach Boys, Joe Bataan were my Guardian Angels.

And this after attending his Aunt Shirley Horn's funeral:

See, all my life, vocalists have given me faith, hope, and charity, caressed me, comforted me, taught me, guided me, carried me, nurtured me, encouraged me, loved me, forgave me, sheltered me, touched me, influenced me, and reached me in the darkest hours far heavily than family, friends, and lovers ever have or could. When I was a baby, my Moms told me the only thing that would stop me bawling was Johnny Ace's "The Clock" and "Pledging My Love". David Ruffin proved to me that wearing thick black eyeglass frames was cool, not corny. Curtis Mayfield, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder, and the Staple Singers taught me smart was the real hip, black was always beautiful, funk is spiritual, and to always love myself for myself.

Most importantly of all, Marvin Gaye showed me that a real man is not ashamed to cry, beg, repent, atone, and apologize. After he died, I was in so much pain that I couldn't listen to his music for months: if a song of his came on the radio, I turned it off; if they played him at a party, I ran outside. I grieved profoundly until I heard Paul Young sing "Wherever I Lay My Hat Is My Home" a year later at the Bayou. I cried and wailed my soul out of mourning that night. To Sir With Love: From then until right here right now, not a day's gone by that I don't play at least one of your records.

And finally from a posting last spring:
Anyways, today was my last radiation session. The numbness is mostly gone and I have to do some physical therapy 'cause my right leg muscles are a tad weak. I resume chemo at the end of the month. Good news: my PSA last week dropped to 42, my hormone-pumped weight of 183 is now down to a svelte 168 and I STILL have a helluva appetite, no nausea, no pain, no lethargy. Oh yeah, my lust for life and laughter remains unstoppable.

Peace and Love Every Time,

lil tommy tee

(photo by Jeff The Purple)

He always signed his pieces that way- peace and love every time. I love that.
Thank you, Tom for all that love, and right back at you wherever you are.
Man, we'll miss you.

100 King-or Another Small Town Story from the Naked City

(Dave Chappell, Patty Reese And John Meadows @ 100 King)

John Meadows is trying to get music going at 100 King in old town Alexandria. It's a nice big space with huge windows on King street-just a couple of blocks from the River and excellent food to boot. I met John when he worked at the much missed Starland Cafe in my hood, but he also worked at the Birchmere for many moons. I went down there to see Patty Reese and Dave Chappell a few weeks ago. I was curious about Patty- from more than one party I knew her as one of those close degrees of separation from me. When she was a wee lass, she used to come to parties at my group house in College Park where I lived with her best friend's older brother, Rick. Since then Patty grew up to be a well established musician in these parts, but though we have mutual friends, I never saw her again until 100 King. She didn't remember me, of course, but she did recall the Great Dane that gave our hellatious home its Dog House moniker. I emailed my old house mate the story, and he promptly emailed this back:


(Shea-courtesy of Alan Kresse)

She was playing with Dave Chappell. I met Dave, consummate guitarist, when I went to see The Troubadours because my friend Mark from the old 9:30 Club days was in that band along with Jake Flack. Jake had bought a house from another college house mate, Pete. (Yes, I moved a lot back then.)
But I digress. Patty will be playing tomorrow night around 8 with Paul Bell of the Nighthawks and back again December 6 with Dave Chappell. Keep an eye on 100 King-it's another great place to see music around here...for free. And say hey to John. Tell him I sent you. (Isn't that what small towns are for?)

GHz Last Friday Night

GHz drew a good sized crowd the other night at The Outta the Way Cafe,
playing three sets and getting better with each one.
Chip Py caught these moments:


John Zidar on drums


Dan Hovey


and Scott Giambusso

Monday Doesn't Have To Be Mundane

Lookee here. Ottley will be on around 8:30 making it the perfect excuse not to cook dinner- get a pizza and a baby sitter for the kids-grab your punk party clothes and go out. Have a bite at Iota and get home by 10...or not. Be adventurous. Go out on MONDAY.

By the by there are older postings about Ottley on this site. You can find them by hitting the Ottley link below.

Other Birds Seen Around Here Besides Turkeys

I told someone I was going to go see The Nighthawks at the Kensington Armory Thanksgiving "town dance" last Wednesday, and they said, "Are they still alive?"
Well, yeah.
And it was great.
And here are the pictures to prove it from my senior staff photographer, Chip Py:



The show sold out.



Johnny Castle



Keith Grimes



Paul Bell



Mark Wenner



and Dan Hovey sitting in.

There's No Place Like DC

I don't know why there's so much good music in this government town, but there is. Is it because of the sixties? I remember when my long haired, lanky, fifth grade teacher, Miss Wenger taught my class to sing the Youngblood song Get Together. We were a hit- swaying with our arms around each other while she played the guitar. That did it. Everyone and I mean everyone asked for a guitar that Christmas. And a bunch of us got one and brought them to school and started playing. I was lucky to get a guitar at all, but it wasn't exactly what I had in mind. My parents got me somebody's folk reject which I had to carry in a pillow case. (I wanted to rock, but my songbook featured Home on the Range.)

The funny thing is you can't swing a cat around here without hitting a musician - yet relatively few people seem to know this. They're out there paying hundreds of dollars to see the big guns like Bruce and The Police, and a lot of times missing what's right here in our own back yard for $10 or under. Sometimes for NOTHING. This Friday night, for example, you can hear Jimi Hendrix and Cream at Outta the Way Cafe . (I didn't say you'd see 'em- but you can hear 'em.) Our own GHz can practically channel those guys.
So roust yourselves- get out and support our local music scene. Close your eyes and you might not know the difference...but your wallet sure will. And that guy playing on stage? You probably went to high school with him.

Something Fishy in Silver Spring?

Silver Spring. For years it thrived - for years it died. When I was a kid, I used to spend Thanksgiving night with my oldest brother and his wife so I could go to the big Silver Spring Christmas parade which was always held the day after Thanksgiving. I don't know when they stopped having it, but most people I ask don't remember one. Silver Spring faltered- I guess sometime in the seventies. Then came years of speculation of how to revive the failing downtown. One idea was a Mall of America. At least THAT fell through, but in its place is a sort of faux Main Street- or Same Street- chain after chain store. It's so much a mall that my friend, Chip Py was told in no uncertain terms not to take pictures, as it is private property, thus spawning the Great Silver Spring Photographer's Anti Massacre Movement. (O.K. I borrowed that from Alice's Restaurant. Remember when WHFS used to play that EVERY Thanksgiving day ? But I digress) Anyway the new developpement seems to be a whopping success. So many people come there now you need a freight elevator to get them out of the parking lot. And that huge expanse of astro turf is often covered with frolicking patrons.
But not all of Silver Spring has turned over by any means.
The Silver Theater now houses the AFI, and little places are holding on like Dale Music, Crisfield's, Vincino's and The Quarry House. The Tastee Diner was saved and moved. The Acorn Gazebo (circa 1850!) which presides over the silver spring, is still there- though the park is tiny. And check out Jackie's Restaurant. She took over an old car parts shop and made it her own amazing spot.
Maybe all these big places are helping the little ones stay for now, or maybe it's the calm before another storm of mega chains which could include a totalitarian corporate music venue as The Birchmere deal fell through. Last weekend, however, I suddenly found myself marching down Georgia Avenue- not in a protest but in... a parade. I don't live in Silver Spring so I had no idea, but the Thanksgiving parade is back. It didn't look like anything I remembered, until I spotted a bunch of well worn plastic reindeer pulling a suspiciously familar float. Someone must have held onto that old stuff-stored it away just in case- just like someone held onto the theater and the diner and the acorn. Old Silver Spring still lives. Change can be good. Change is helping Silver Spring to thrive, but hold on, everybody - just in case.

Peace Time

The Electric Maid. Isn't that a great name? It used to be a funky little diner in Takoma Park, but now the sign has migrated around the corner, over the District line, and down the street to 268 Carroll Avenue NW. There it sits above a little building which is home to an art space of sorts. Tomorrow night- November 17, Peace Drum is having an acoustic party there with members of Dream Kitchen, Lump Dog, and more- "original music and crazy covers." The party starts at 9- donations accepted.
I'm all for anyone who wants to give this peace thing a chance. (Hey- Why does that sound so familiar?)

WMD FOUND IN D.C.

Karl Rove lives in my neighborhood, but I'll bet he never thought of looking for WMD right here in DC. (Just think: peace, love and music coming out of this town instead of war and destruction, but maybe that's another issue.) I looked, and I found WMD practicing in a back yard right down the street from me. It was Michael Dolan. (a founding member of The Catholics for you DC music buffs. The Catholics played back in the day at places of yore like The Bayou and Columbia Station.) Now he and a whole bunch of other people are ganging up to create a wall o' sound with a "12 member rock and soul revue" at DC9 this Thursday night November 15 . WMD will be playing to support the D.C. chapter of One Brick - a charitable online community. “We’re very excited about helping One Brick. They’re a real asset to the city,” said show organizer and drummer Ian Martinez. He's the “M” in WMD. Guitarist Josh Wein, and bassist Michael Dolan make up the other letters.
Comedian Adam Ruben will emcee, and The Method will open. A sawbuck gets you in.

Who Knew?

Yes, there was a big good-bye party, and yes, there was a Last This, That and the Other,
BUT, due to some quirk of settlement fate, Chick Hall's is still with us. With some places and people we don't get to say good-bye; other times we get more than one chance, and this is one of the latter. Such is life. So all of you procrastinators and ne'er do wells-here's your reprieve. Seize the day. There's a blues jam tonight, and the DC Blues Society will have a few shows going on. I highly recommend Heroes and Friends, the house band, featuring genuine Halls, this Friday, November 16. Dancing shoes are always a good idea. Cowboy hats are optional.

Farewell Childe

I don't know how many times I heard Rodney the bartender bellow last call at the Childe Harold, but it's more than I care to count. Another Washington Institution is gone, and this one at a relatively young age considering it opened in 1967.
(Man, what is it about 1967 this week?)

Everybody knows that Springsteen and Emmy Lou Harris played there long before they were big wigs; they even named sandwiches for them, but not everybody knows that The Ramones played there as well. And lots of local acts like The Insect Surfers, Razz, The Nurses, Catfish Hodge, and The Bad Brains. (Nobody named a sandwich for them.)


Marshall Keith of The Slickee Boys remembers this:
"Since it was a tiny club, it made it really exciting, because people were packed in and falling all over each other. I saw The Ramones there. There was no punk rock in DC then. They were inspiring. Their stage moves seemed choreographed to me, which at first was disconcerting, but it was so effective that they were great. They (and anything punk) was panned in the Washington Post. It took a few years and Joe Sasfy before favorable punk reviews made their way into the mainstream.

(Marshall Keith/photo by Jim Moon)

The Slickee Boys played there a lot. Our friend Ed Cox played theremin during "love in". He was plugged into Kim Kane's amp, and couldn't hear himself, so he kept unplugging Kim.
There was a turning point in our career at a benefit concert with several bands when we finally "went over" as well as the "rootsy" bands. Urban Verbs played there once, and I couldn't get in because it was packed."

Root Boy Slim and The Sex Change Band was also a frequent performer. Slim would change clothes between sets wearing anything from zoot suits to hippie togs. Sometimes he had strippers with him just in case his show wasn't wild enough on its own which is hard to believe if you ever saw him.

(Root Boy)

The music ended long ago, unfortunately, and the guy who started it, Bill Heard Jr. is gone as well. So are Rodney and Root Boy Slim. Maybe they are off some place-all having a drink together where there is no last call.


(Rodney- last call circa 1986)

Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been --

A sound which makes us linger; -- yet -- farewell!

-Lord Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

Local Heros

Here's part of the crew that got The Ambassador going Again in 1967:
Michael Papers, Joel Mednick, Court Rodgers and George Sumerjan
holding a Grateful Dead Poster. (Photo from Jeff Krulik)