NEWS: Farewell to No Depression




Every time a friend leaves we mourn the loss, but when a good friend leaves the sadness is tempered by our faith that we will see one another again. So it is with my good friend No Depression magazine. Since 1995 Seattle based No Depression has celebrated American roots music and its many sub-strains, becoming alt-country's monthly Bible and elevating many artists, producers and their labels from niche players to important fixtures in the cultural landscape. The current May-June issue (#75) will be their last on paper. The cover features Artist of the Decade Buddy Miller, presumably appointed a year early since the magazine won't quite see the end of this one. No Depression will remain an online entity with expanded internet content and plans to produce a ND book with the University of Texas Press. So we'll see the writers and artists in print again, but it's never quite the same.

I subscribed for a few years (issues #30-58), bought a few t-shirts and have always been happy to associate myself, even if just as a fan, with a group of people committed to the free spirit of American music. Like the music it examined, the magazine allowed me to sit and take my time, look for new things and reflect on the old ones - practices for which computer monitors and streaming mp3 files seem poorly suited. It also kept me informed with what was coming down the pike with greater credibility than other magazines or music sites compromised by too many vendors with interests outside the music. I always found something new to like in No Depression, and learned something about the artists I already love. Thank you No Depression, my best to you and yours. See you 'round.

REVIEW: Vampire Weekend "Vampire Weekend"



Rating: 8

The boys of Vampire Weekend offer a bright and catchy take on Graceland era Paul Simon complete with a mild sense of cultural imperialism via toe tapping, quick-play-it-again pop.  White and weightless as sheets hung out to dry on a summer's day, the album comes well stocked with Talking Heads jangle, ska-lite rave-ups, some self consciously tart if clever rhymes and a healthy dose of nostalgia for the over privileged collegiate life of leisure.  My most cynical self projects a shelf life rivaling that of free range eggs.  However eggs are simple and delicious and almost impossible to mess up.  Bon appetit.