The Queen City Social Club—the events and party wing of WOMM, The Radiator—is proud to present Record Club. Every other Saturday afternoon we set up our turntables at the Radio Bean and let the crowd be the DJ. The very first installation of Record Club goes down Saturday April 3, 2010 from 3 to 5 pm. All genres are welcome and you can even get on the mic to tell everyone why your song is your song. The only rules are that it’s got to be on vinyl (leave your iPod at home) and it can’t be super long so everyone gets their turn.
QCSC are not just a bunch of vinyl-loving Luddites. The whole Record Club will be broadcast live on The Radiator 105.9 FM WOMM-LP and recorded as a podcast for HYPERLINK "http://www.theradiator.org" www.theradiator.org.
Record Club is meant to give people the chance to explore and be exposed to new music. By flexing our multimedia muscle via The Radiator we can give the world a snapshot of what Burlington is listening to on a given afternoon.
Queen City Social Club presents Record ClubSaturday April 3. 3 to 5 pm. Bi-weekly thereafter.Radio Bean. 8 North Winooski Avenue, Burlington.You are the DJ. Bring your records.
Anything goes, as long as it’s on vinyl.e)
Description:
Angels. Whiskey. Expansive warmth and cobalt blue. Gordon's music is an alchemical mixture of psychedelic folk, pre-blues, mountain soul, and hard rock. Evoking artists ranging from Nick Drake to Jeff Buckley to Soundgarden, Gordon glides from a lullubye croon to a full-blown wail in a mercurial baritone that defies categorization.
Even though I cancelled my regular shreddenalia, I still got to wield last night. Red, blue, and green lights were twinkling at floor level as a panoply of stompboxes were simultaneously deployed, and a monsoon of cascading sonic dementia ensued. "Chops" were on display, and on several occasions I stood poised, a hairs-breadth away from spontaneously combusting into a barrage of two-handed tappi ng. At one point I superimposed an excerpt of Mahler's 5th, albeit three semitones above the flatted sharp thirteenth of a sinuous, insistent 13/8 ska-thrash groove, which in layman's terms means that, essentially, Time was morphed so that parrallel planes became roughly perpindicular amid the inherently retrograde cacaphony. One experiences such things and one is compelled to pinch oneself insofar as to determine whether one is or is not in fact under the influence of the proverbial Sandman of yore--that is to say, dreaming. Feedback was swirling. I saw various shapes flitting to and fro, but only peripherally. One of them may have been some kind of djinn. I say this only because he or she (it?) appeared to be wearing a turban. Then I switched to mixolydian.
