These are just a few of the many mad-mad mighty events going on on Record Store Day! Get down to your local vinyl slinger and slide some sleeves into your sack!

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Retailers are ready to push rare, exclusive, classic and just-plain-strange vinyl—last year gave the world the Monks’ unbelievable “Pretty Suzanne”—and lots of musicians and writers and musician-writers are signed up to help pull extra people inside. (Full roster of special releases here!) This list was compiled by Lainna Fader and Steven Martinez.

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Los Angeles Record Store Directory Below you will find a list of record stores in Los Angeles and surrounding communities. If we have overlooked a store please leave it in the comments field and we will add it to our list. L.A. Record – Online Store shop.larecord.com Amoeba Music 6400 W Sunset Blvd Los Angeles, [...]

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Rather than interview J Mascis ourselves, we thought it would be more fun to continue our tradition of getting famous people to interview famous people for nothing more than the thrill of taking work off our hands. This interview was conducted by director Allison Anders, who cast Mascis in films such as Grace of My Heart, and Tiffany Anders, the musician/singer/co-curator of Don’t Knock the Rock and also Allison’s daughter.

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Dam-Funk grew up on “Scooby Doo” and sessioned for Westside Connection but his life’s work was and will be the stewardship of the true spirit of funk. He’s remixed Baron Zen and Animal Collective and he’s just about to release the 5XLP monster Toeachizown on Stones Throw. This interview by Chris Ziegler.

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Here’s Rodriguez live at San Francisco’s Amoeba with the same backing band—the Fresh and Onlys!—that he’ll have tonight at the El Rey. Read our interviews with him and opening band Glasser and see you tonight!

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Elaine’s Hella Hipster Hoedown has become a welcome quarterly distraction—I’d be happy if she staged one every weekend. An indie-rock barn dance held the first Saturday this month at Pehrspace in hella non-bucolic South Echo Park, this happening was packed to the paint with veal-eyed darlings of the Eastside rock scene. I could scarce wedge my lean geezer’s carcass into the room, much less commandeer one of the authentic hay bales strewn about the room as bovine bric-a-brac, so I tarried outside and talked to the hostess. Being a Dixie lady herself, she was pretty impressed to meet a (half) authentic Tazewell Co., VA, hillbilly and I found myself unaccustomedly bashful. (About in the only other social advantage my heritage is usually good for is informing the occasional obnoxious fuck he owns a real purdy mouf’ with just the right inflection, so this kind of approval is unusual.)

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