In 2004, VH1 aired Bands Reunited, a series in which a host would ambush members of defunct bands on camera and try to convince them to reunite, for at least a one-off gig. Some of the bands balked, while most went along with it. It was always surprising that the members of Squeeze, the British new-wave band that'd only been broken up for a few years at that point and appeared to harbor no animosity toward each other, were among the bands that declined. But then, if it was inevitable that Squeeze singer/songwriters Glenn Tilbrook and Chris Difford would eventually re-form the band, it's just as well that they've done so in the past year on their own terms instead of on a tacky cable TV show.

Tilbrook and Difford seem to have settled into the same groove as Steely Dan's Walter Becker and Donald Fagen as of late, recording respective solo albums, and then coming together as the band primarily to play old favorites in concert. On Thursday, they kicked off their current U.S. tour at the 9:30 Club in Washington, playing for a room full of aging anglophiles eager to hear those chestnuts. [MORE]

In the past six months, we've been noting more and more shows of interest going on at the Black Hole Rock Club, a recently rechristened Dundalk venue previously known as the Zu. We'd been procrastinating checking it out because we so rarely make it to that part of the Baltimore metro area for any other reason, and let's face it, it smells kind of funny out there. But on Wednesday, we finally hit one of the Black Hole's weekly "Hip Hop At The Hole" nights, which places an emphasis on booking local MCs and offering ladies' night drink specials.

The latter distinction turned out to be key, as the bar was well stocked with patrons male and female, all tipping back a few. And once the show got started, it turned out that drunk white girls from Dundalk are a great audience for underground hip-hop. They might not know the MCs' songs, and they may not buy a record after the performance, but dammit they're gonna dance and make noise like true believers anyway. Hip-hop spots within city limits like 5 Seasons might want to think about busing in some Dundalk girls to get the party started on slow nights. Unfortunately, DJ Illah spun a sometimes tepid selection of mainstream hits that were generally at least two years stale. Let's face it, if you're at a hip-hop show and the DJ is playing some old-ass Jennifer Lopez song that wasn't even that popular at the time, something is wrong. [MORE]

Panther playing the Talking Head Tuesday night wasn't a bad show. It just felt like one of those somewhat perfunctory, minor-league touring indie band Baltimore stops that happens before a crowd of less than 20 people where you can just tell the band would really rather be dozing in its van at a rest stop a few hours closer to New York than playing a weird little place with a secret entrance and an Agnostic Front show going on in the next room.

Panther, though, has a different standard for charisma than most bands--any disappointment herein should take that into account. Even going through the motions for the Oregon group is a good show by most standards. Frontman Charlie Salas-Humaras would have to try to be unengaging--the dude's quick-footed white boy dance fury appears to come as reflex. He prances, legs blurring, and it's fun to watch. [MORE]

Baltimore is taking over the world this fall, or at least a smattering of Midwestern and Eastern cities. With what's being billed as the Baltimore Round Robin tour, Dan Deacon has pretty much bested himself and really anyone who's ever rented a tour bus or three. Basically, Deacon is renting said three buses--veggie fuel-powered, natch--and taking some 60 Baltimore musicians on the road for three weeks.

The idea behind the shows is, well, revolutionary. Each tour stop is a two-night affair with an "eyes night" and a "feet night," which are kinda what they sound like: the "eyes nights" are centered around various head-type musics (folk, theater, improv, "dreamy") and the "feet nights" are for moving (dancing, "thrashing," bobbing). There's also a "weird round" mixed into some select nights. [MORE]

By design, the Virgin Mobile Festival aims to present two days of music of roughly equal value; otherwise, they wouldn't charge the same steep fee for a one-day pass either day. But even with big names and small on both days of the festival, there's no accounting for personal taste. And in my personal taste, Day 2 had a far superior bill to Day 1 this year. So I took it easy on Saturday, showing up late to see just a handful of headliners and conserving my energy for a full Sunday. And after a few hellish July weekends spent pounding concrete at street festivals, the grassy fields of Pimlico and unexpectedly cool weather turned the big corporate clusterfuck of a festival into a more pleasant experience than we would've otherwise expected.

While I've never much cared for Wilco, the band went way up in my esteem when the great avant-garde guitarist Nels Cline joined in 2004. Wilco was still kind of boring on the North Stage on Saturday, but occasionally on songs like "Impossible Germany," it let Cline cut loose with a long, gorgeous solo. Either way, it was pretty fun to watch a once obscure figure like Cline play rock star to a festival crowd of thousands. [MORE]

The Talking Head may have moved to some nicer, more stable digs recently when it picked up and left its old Davis Street location to settle in the same building that houses Sonar. But the Head still feels very much like its own club and retains much of its backstreet charm and then some, with its own entrance on the side of the building. Walking down the long, dark alley to the door, and hearing the muffled sound of the first band rocking out through the walls, is an almost perfect way to arrive at a show. And it helped that that band, Chopper from Atlanta, were totally rocking the fuck out. A power trio with a completely ripped and insanely talented drummer, Chopper take a path less traveled for heavier rock bands: letting the bass and guitar hold down the repetitive thudding, while the drummer showboats all over the place like a soloist. And may we say, more bands could stand to mix things up like this, especially if they've got a drummer with skills worth letting loose.

The lineup for Thursday night's show seemed to have come together somewhat haphazardly. Of the four bands that played, only two of them, Smarts and Fiasco, were listed on the club's site before the show. And of the other two, Chopper and Hawks, one had a completely different gig in Richmond, Va., listed on its MySpace page for that night. For something that may have been arranged on short notice, however, the bill fit together better than anyone could've planned, with the other acts all following through on the high standard Chopper set at the beginning of the night for loud and rowdy rock with a healthy dose of musicianship. [MORE]

The death of Khia "DJ K-Swift" Edgerton sent shock waves through the Baltimore club music community and beyond, which will continue to be felt for years. In the immediate aftermath, countless friends, family members, fans, and 92Q co-workers held vigils, dedicated on-air programming to her, and spoke to the press about her. But one part of her inner circle that had been relatively quiet the week of K-Swift's death was the staff of her company, Club Queen Entertainment. Many of them were busy with funeral arrangements, organizing events at clubs around the city to raise money for the Edgerton family, or were simply too consumed with grief to speak publicly so soon after the fact.

Last weekend, we sat down with eight members of Club Queen Entertainment, two weeks after K-Swift's death, to talk about her friendship, her legacy, and her impact on them as individuals and Baltimore as a whole. DJ and producer Say Wut and his wife, Crystal, who hosted the meeting at their Sandtown home, both worked for Club Queen for several years, and after K-Swift helped popularize his music, they went on to launch Horsemen Entertainment. Party hosts Buck Jones, Lady Pitbull, and Pork Chop all frequently handled the microphone while K-Swift spun records. (Pork Chop, a rapper who came to work to 92Q via K-Swift, has since become a popular on-air personality and the station's morning show co-host.) Darvin, better known as MVP Big D, ran K-Swift's street team before starting his own company, Tru Goodfellas Entertainment. And DJs Lucky and Big Nasty spun at K-Swift events at clubs such as Twilight Zone, the Tunnel, Paradox, and Club Choices. (Other Club Queen mixers DJ Big L, Mike Mumbles, and K-Spin were unable to attend the interview.) All had worked with K-Swift since at least 2001, and most had known her for much longer than that. What follows is only part of that discussion, wherein K-Swift's friends remember her with anecdotes both humorous and heartfelt, and grapple with a loss that's still difficult to accept or explain. [MORE]

Baltimore's revered post-hardcore trio Double Dagger floored even its most enthusiastic fans with last year's explosive Ragged Rubble. This week, DD releases two 7-inch EPs that pair new versions of the band's best-loved songs with previously unreleased material. Sophisticated Urban Living (Terra Firma Limited) features an extended version of "Luxury Condos for the Poor," City Paper's Best Song of 2007, and live favorite "No Allies." Bored Meeting (Toxic Pop) includes a mind-melting remix of "I Was so Bored I Wanted to Hang Myself on the Dancefloor," from the band's debut album, backed by outtakes from the Ragged Rubble sessions. We e-mailed with band members Bruce Willen, Nolen Strals, and Dennis Bowen to chat about the new releases, the next full-length, and the bizarre reactions Double Dagger has elicited over the years.

City Paper: You've joked that you're getting sick of playing "Luxury Condos for the Poor." Is releasing a new version a way to get it out of your systems, once and for all? [MORE]

The Ottobar, as supportive as it is to local music, can be a tough place for an all-local bill. It books enough national acts to fill the place up on a regular basis that on nights when there are no name-brand headliner, it can feel of like an off-night, which isn't so much an issue for the smaller clubs that book nothing but no-names and locals. So when we show up to see a few area bands, we're not sure if there'll be tumbleweeds passing the front of the stage, like there were a few weeks ago. Thankfully, though, there was a bit more of a buzz on Tuesday night, with the bands Son of Avery, the Same Damn Thing, and La For Another pulling in a decent number of fans and friends for a weeknight show.

Timonium's oddly named La For Another is a spirited all-girl quartet who were running through some jangly upbeat numbers when we arrived. Its sound and look is a bit more like a modern preppy version of the Go-Gos than, say, Bikini Kill. But even today there's still something inherently DIY and, dare we day, punk about any group of women who form a band without even getting a male ringer on drums or lead guitar, as is the case with most such bands. [MORE]

For three years, Star Status Entertainment's Monday night event at the 5 Seasons, Hip Hop 101, was the most important and dependable weekly hip-hop showcase in Baltimore. But back in February, host Sonny Brown held one last event, "The Death of Hip Hop 101," citing a run of low attendance that had made it financially unfeasible. But the recent death of Mr. Wilson, Hip Hop 101's founder, helped bring it back to life. Brown spoke to us at the time about plans to revive the event in a few months. So we were surprised to hear last week that it would be returning this past Monday, without Brown's involvement. And so the new Hip Hop 101 began, masterminded by Mr. Wilson's friend and Star Status labelmate, Vision.

With Hip Hop 101 mainstay DJ Jabril back manning the decks for the night, Vision got help from another popular local DJ to co-host, DJ Vicious V. With a relaxed, familiar air, Vicious V cracked jokes on Vision and referred to their dynamic as a "Laurel and Hardy" act. It may just take some time for Hip Hop 101 to regain the small but steady clientele it once had, and the first week was even more sparsely attended than it had been toward the end of its previous incarnation. As usual, most of those in the room were either performers or part of an entourage. And with only four acts on the bill, there were fewer of them than there would've been back in the day, when Hip Hop 101 would sometimes shoehorn more than a dozen brief sets into one night. [MORE]

Yesterday, Scarey Studios, a left-field concert space in West Baltimore, abruptly announced via MySpace, "hey dudes/dudettes, scarey studios is no more and all shows coming up are cancelled, sorry! it was fun(ny) but couldnt last forever , cause you know people could hear our shows for 5 square blocks." In an e-mail to Noise this morning, Jon, one of the space's former organizers, added, "Hopefully we'll be able to find another space at some point. . . . If you hear of any properties for rent that might suit us, it'd be great if you could send the info along."

At least one touring band, Argumentix, who was supposed to play last night at Scarey, was left with a schedule hole, but Jon says most of the shows on the venue's calendar should be able to be rescheduled. "We're going to be meeting with the Hexagon people (what used to be the Lo Fi) on Sunday to see if we might be able to reschedule any of the shows we had to cancel and do them there instead," he writes. With both Floristree and the Comfort Dome offering empty show calendars, this puts most of the warehouse show scene in Baltimore on the shoulders of the Annex Theater, the Bank--which both have several upcoming events--and Tarantula Hill, which will be hosting its first show in a good while next week. [MORE]

If you follow local venue politics--and why would you?--you already know this, but some weirdness and changes have been under way this past spring and summer at the Lo-Fi Social Club. Under circumstances that are still mostly unclear--which involve a few accusations from former employees about unpaid wages and missing artwork, as well as a slew of bad fuck-ups involving bands arriving to a locked club--the venue's owner, Neil Freebairn, has departed. According to, um, www.neilfreebairnconartistandthieflofi.blogspot.com, Freebairn hitchhiked to Canada. Or something.

In any case, he's gone, and the club is under new management/ownership and is reopening as Hexagon. A MySpace posting last week states both the title of this post and "The club has no affiliation with Neil Freebairn, previous owner of the Lo-Fi Social Club." Moreover, Matt Sterling, one of the club's new managers, wrote in an e-mail to City Paper late last month, "there hasn't been a Neil sighting in almost a month and that's all I can say for the moment." So, there's that, though Miguel Sabogal, one of the other four managers, explains in a phone interview that Freebairn made off with the club's sound equipment--owned by one of the club's former soundmen, Eric Boring--a couple of months ago. [MORE]

The good news is that the Ian Nagoski portion of the True Vine's inventory is currently being sold off for change. Like, you can grab Brian Eno's Here Come the Warm Jets and Music For Airports for $25 and $20 minus 25 percent, respectively. Some stuff is up to 70 percent off and, our favorite, records that were priced originally at $1 are now 10 for $1. The more good news is that Nagoski just did a second pressing of his since unavailable Black Mirror musical anthropology compilation, which is also on sale. The bad news is that, well, Nagoski and his taste in music are leaving the store, though Jason Willett and Stewart Mostofsky will be handling things just fine by themselves, we think.

Nagoski sent out a handy set of frequently asked questions about the move and his departure: [MORE]

Off the wires this morning were the lineup times and days for this year's Virgin Festival. If you drive I-95 with any regularity, the festival's billboards have already beaten into your head just how all over the place this thing is--Bob Dylan the same font and size right next to Jack Johnson makes the head spin--so below find the details of just how the lineup is all going to play out. Our favorite: the Offspring barely an echo away from Chuck Berry on the same stage. Kinda like drinking Diet Coke and an Oregon Pinot Noir at the same meal.

Anyhow, here you are: [MORE]

Last weekend, while Artscape and Whartscape were sprawling across the center of Baltimore, there was a smaller, less heralded street festival going down across town, at the corner of Lafayette and Caroline streets. The Charm City Community Block Fest celebrated its fourth year on Saturday with a full day of performances and concessions, while offering a myriad of social services, from HIV tests to school supplies. And in the neglected Northeast neighborhood of Oliver, where vacant houses with boarded-up doors dot every block, a celebration with a touch of community outreach is a welcome concept. The fest's host was actor Julito McCullum, best known in and out of Baltimore for his portrayal of Namond Brice on the last two seasons of The Wire. But it took us a while to recognize the 17-year-old actor, who's looking much beefier, with tattoos on his arms, than when the series wrapped shooting just a year ago.

Of course, since we couldn't resist the pull of Artscape on Saturday evening, we only spent a few hours of the afternoon at the Block Fest. So we unfortunately missed most of our favorite performers headlining later in the day, including Paula Campbell, Tim Trees, Mullyman, and Greenspan. And it'd be unfair to judge the festival based on the lesser-known acts that rounded out the bottom of the bill; suffice it to say, we're sure the Block Fest ended on a high note. But during the time we were there, the entertainment ranged from the endearingly amateurish to the obnoxiously vacuous, with occasional flashes of real talent. One early highlight was R&B singer Shadina, whose voice and original songs were strong enough that her unimpressive backup dancers and Keyshia Cole cover came off as distracting, unnecessary accessories. And the Dream Nation Marching Unit, which paraded onto the festival grounds just as we were arriving, were a truly unique marching band. Formed just last year in Baltimore, with members' ages ranging from 3 to 60, and composed mainly of drummers and dancers, Dream Nation was a refreshing change of pace from the usual cookie-cutter high-school bands. [MORE]

OK, perhaps you're all music festival-ed out after last weekend's Whartscape, but maybe you'd still like to check out some ear-ringing noise--and preferably for free. It's a bit of a hike for those people who also choose to love their planet and hate on oil by not owning an automobile, but "DNA is the DNA"--a program on WMUC (88.1 FM), the University of Maryland's student-run radio station--has organized a nice two-day lineup of noise, metal, and other unclassifiable musical extremes into its FREE DNA Test Fest down in College Park. Twenty acts in all--including Baltimore's own Ian Nagoski spinning 78s, Philadelphia hardcore heavyweight YDI, the total abandon of Cleveland's Homostupids, and the absolutely shitfuck nutty FNU Ronnies, which can sound like the Brainbombs if they got a hold of a bipolar beat sequencer. Good times.

Friday, July 25: Tall Firs, Satanized, Kurt Vile, FNU Ronnies, Ian Nagoski, No Fucker, Vegetative State, Kid Romance, Eightyfive, True Womanhood, Nicholas Szczepanik, and the Lampshades. [MORE]

A funny thing about Baltimore club music is that you can listen to it almost endlessly and not get sick of it. By all rights you should--it's technically repetitive as all hell, and there seems to be a mathematical law that demands that over the course of three DJs, at least one track will be a repeat. But Friday, from the sun-baked evening Artscape DJ Culture stage to the very first lights of dawn at the Paradox, we feasted on breakbeats wound up pretty damn full.

And there was some fine people-watching, too, at the DJ stage. The teenage white couple awkwardly trying to keep up some small semblance of dance respectability next to the two teenage black girls with light-up fronts doing crazy legs wins some kind of award. There was a board down on the floor for break dancing, and big props goes to the young kid in the polo shirt buttoned to the top and the fedora doing a dance for someone's camera that consisted of strung-together badass poses, and the same to the big lanky guy doing marionette moves. This is, of course, in addition to the crew rocking elbow and knee pads, bodies on the board. [MORE]

DJ K-Swift, one of the most beloved figures in Baltimore club, passed away this morning in a swimming pool accident, allhiphop.com is reporting. K-Swift, born Khia Edgerton, was 28. In addition to being one of the most ubiquitous faces behind this city's turntables, Edgerton was an immensely popular DJ on 92Q--starting there at 18 years old as the station's first female DJ--and operated her own production company, Club Queen Entertainment. [MORE]

We'd already started writing up our memories of this year's Artscape when we received some shocking news this morning about a performer who was responsible for one of our favorite moments from the festival. Khia Edgerton, aka DJ K-Swift, passed away at Good Samaritan Hospital from injuries sustained in a swimming-pool accident on Sunday at 29 years old, only a day after we watched her set at the DJ Culture Stage at Artscape (pictured above) on Saturday night. K-Swift, who also performed earlier in the day on the main stage and headlined an all-star bill at Paradox on Friday, went out at the absolute top of her game, as the most popular radio personality in Baltimore and arguably the biggest Baltimore club DJ in the world. And we're grateful we got to catch the frenetic dance party that was her set on Saturday, even if we had no idea that it would be the last time we'd ever see her.

Before we let that tragedy overshadow the rest of the weekend, though, let's remember all the good things that happened at the festival this year. What had been a relatively mild summer finally gave way last week, just in time to spend hours and hours out in the unbearable humidity for Artscape. But it was still worth braving the elements for one of the best lineups in recent memory, and an expanded area stretching farther up Charles Street that made way for some great new art installations. And local music figured heavily this year, between Artscape finally giving Baltimore club music ample representation, including the aforementioned K-Swift, and Saturday's original headliner, Ne-Yo, who canceled earlier this month, being replaced by hometown R&B stars Mario and the recently reunited Dru Hill. [MORE]

Wham City's alternative to Artscape is only in its third year, but already it's starting to feel like an institution. So much attention, in the indie press and online, was lavished on last year's festival and the advance hype for this year's installment that you get the feeling there are a good number of people across the country now who have heard of Whartscape but have no idea there was something called Artscape first. And that rapid growth was further demonstrated on Thursday night, when Whartscape got started a night earlier than its parent festival for its first four-night run, taking over the Charles Theatre, just like the High Zero Festival used to do back in the day.

Wham City has always had a heavy performance-art element beyond the mere musicians among the collective's numbers, and Thursday night's bill looked almost deliberately put together to reflect that Whartscape is not just a rock concert. Perhaps it was just a logistical decision, given that this was the only night that the festival would be held in a room with seats and a movie screen, but the first four sets all mixed music with some form of theatrics or oratory, and only one of them actually featured anyone playing a musical instrument. That set was the first, by Missoula Oblongata, which put on a full-on play with occasional folk-song interludes. The play was somewhat abstract and intellectual, touching on mathematics, marriage, and fortune cookies, with playfully disorienting dialogue and amusingly low-budget set design. But what could've been impenetrably pretentious turned out to be charming and even somewhat profound, thanks to the strength of the songs and the inventiveness of the writing. [MORE]