Jay Andres deserves to be remembered as the Sun-Times remembers him Thursday, in a five-column farewell at the top of a page unfortunately labeled OBITUAREIS.
I didn't even notice when it officially became fall, but now that we've had a couple below-50 nights, my autumn allergies have come back, and there's an issue of the Reader with zero music-festival guides, it's starting to finally sink in. But why mourn the passing of summer when there's still so much music to enjoy?
Gossip Wolf's sporting a new look, with a wolfy mascot designed by poster artist Keith Herzik and the hottest news on local crust-punk and psych-rock happenings. In Sharp Darts I look at the new site Pay With a Tweet and ponder the monetary value of social-networking buzz. David Whiteis brings us the story of prewar bluesmen Joe and Charlie McCoy and a benefit concert to buy headstones for their unmarked graves in south-suburban Alsip. Photo Pit puts us in the middle of a raucous crowd for Mahal Rai Banda's World Music Festival show last week at Martyrs'. And in the List you'll find recommendations for Prince Rama, Swans, Eels, and more.
Show: The Clean's "place in rock 'n' roll history is indisputable; their cheaply recorded, exuberantly performed early-80s recordings for Flying Nun kick-started an underground-music explosion in their native New Zealand and set the template for legions of indie-pop combos on the other side of the world. But Kilgour, his New York-based drummer brother Hamish, and bassist-keyboardist Robert Scott (everybody sings) have never treated the band like a career," writes Bill Meyer.
Dinner: May Street Market From the sunny hostess to the chatty server to the chef-owner himself—Tru vet Alex Cheswick—everybody at May Street Market exudes goodwill: they even send you out the door with a complimentary treat.
1132 W. Grand Ave., 312-421-5547, maystreetmarket.com
This week in Food & Drink I talked to Jim Graziano, fourth-generation scion of the dynasty behind J.P. Graziano, the great West Loop Italian food wholesaler, grocery, and sub shop about how he plans to keep the business going for another 70-some years.
Graziano cooks a lot, and chances are that even if you've only stopped in a few times he's given you advice on what to do with whatever you're shopping for. Thing is, he's an intuitive cook and doesn't use recipes, certainly not each morning when he mixes up a new 48-ounce batch of the truffle mustard-balsamic vinaigrette that goes on the majestic Mr. G sub (sharp provolone, hot soppressata, Prosciutto di Parma, Genoa salami, marinated artichokes, basil, lettuce, hot oil, red wine vinegar, and oregano).
Beer sampling, food writing, dessert crawling, and more.
Here's some good news.
From a BBC report on the rapid progress being made to rescue 33 miners trapped 2,000 feet underground in Chile:
"Construction work has even started on a huge platform to accommodate up to 1,000 journalists from around the world who are expected to descend on the mine to report on the rescue."
I wouldn't have thought there were 1,000 journalists to be found still working at places with travel budgets.
I don't think I can improve on this:
One mystery remains for me. Apparently Rahm's mom once owned a rock club, but I haven't been able to figure out which one.
Reading about the Quinn-Brady debate and yet another bond downgrade reminded me that I'd been meaning to check out what happened to Arkansas, the only state that actually defaulted during the 20th century. The answer? They worked off federal money, but it wasn't good times:
In 1933, Arkansas defaulted on its bonds — the only state to do so during the Great Depression — and its state government essentially functioned on federal money for two years. It started digging itself out only when it passed a sales tax, and even then, the state had to stop building roads for 16 years.
Multiple states, meanwhile, defaulted during the mid-19th century.
Reuters's Felix Salmon argues that in a worst-case scenario states will get bailed out; it's municipalities that have the most to fear, not least from pinched state budgets. Salmon is working off a report by Meredith Whitney, who ranks Illinois as the second-most fucked state in the country: ahead of California, tied with New Jersey and Ohio, and just behind Michigan.