Method Man wants to make it clear: He’s not saying he and Redman are the best, he’s just saying nobody rocks the stage like they do.

That’s because at the fifth annual Rock the Bells, the touring hip-hop fest featuring performances from legends like A Tribe Called Quest, Nas, The Pharcyde, Mos Def, De La Soul and Rakim, as well as Redman and Wu-Tang Clan member Method Man, he knows talk like that might be considered blasphemous.

Four of those legends are Imani, Slimkid3, Bootie Brown and Fatlip who, as alternative West Coast rap group The Pharcyde, released their platinum debut Bizarre Ride II The Pharcyde in 1992 and followed that three years later with the double platinum Labcabincalifornia. On Saturday, July 19 at Rock the Bells’ first stop in Chicago, they took the stage together for the first time in 11 years, further boosting the legacy of a concert series that in 2004 reunited jazz rap pioneers A Tribe Called Quest after a six year break. This year the tour has added international stops, including four in Europe and one in Japan, to a schedule that previously included only U.S. and Canadian cities.

Unlike last year’s festival, which featured hard-rockers Rage Against the Machine as headliners and was consequently attended by what the New York Times’ Jon Pareles dubbed “a cargo shorts crowd,” this year’s event drew a more traditional hip-hop fan base.

Brightly colored clothes and shoes, flat brimmed hats, billowing dreadlocks and facial piercings were on full display. Between sets, heads bobbed most enthusiastically when DJs played classics like Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth’s horn driven “They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.),” an early 90s track that magazines like Spin and The Source have featured on various best songs lists.

Strangers struck-up conversations. Dialog even flowed at a nearby gas station after the show. One man’s comment of, “Who here thinks Nas was better than Tribe?” provoked icy stares from two women who weren’t feeling the Tribe MC Q-Tip’s new material, from his upcoming album The Renaissance. “But he’s a poet,” one said.

Indeed, a preference of older material seemed to rule the day. Songs off new or upcoming albums from Q-Tip, ‘80s icon Rakim and Nas elicited mixed reactions at best.

After politically charged sets from underground duo Dead Prez and Peruvian MC Immortal Technique, Rakim’s old school clout and late 80s, early 90s fixture De La Soul’s kickin’-it-on-a-Saturday-afternoon vibe created some party spirit. But things really got started with Method Man and Redman.

“The energy you give to us,” Method Man proclaimed in his gravelly voice, prefacing their set, “we give back to you.”

The duo then unleashed their hit “Da Rockwilder” before being joined by fellow Wu-Tang members Ghostface Killah and Raekwon. They proceeded to put on the day’s most memorable performance. They frenzied the crowd with their raw energy and undeniable chemistry, as they mounted speakers, crowd surfed, unloaded water bottles and rocketed around the stage.

At one point, Method Man leapt off the stage and assaulted a viewing platform off to the side, climbed it and heroically delivered a verse as enthusiastic fans swarmed beneath him and others stood behind him, separated only by a wooden guardrail.

Fans showed their approval by releasing clouds of smoke from out the sea of people.

“That was a solid throw-down!” screamed one man, probably drunk, wearing a Cubs hat. “A nine-point-five solid.”

After that adrenaline rush, Mos Def’s one man show seemed comparatively tame. But The Pharcyde dazzled behind a live band, as suspended screens above depicted giant marijuana leaves.

Many bass-heavy songs didn’t sound right over the poor sound system, which pumped too much bass and often obscured the music, but Pharcyde classics like “Passing Me By” and “Runnin’” got roars from the crowd by their instantly recognizable guitar and keyboard riffs, which sounded great.

Nas followed and, dressed completely in white, glowed ethereally under the spotlight. The crowd demonstrated its old school roots during his emotional set, responding more to well-known classics like “N.Y. State of Mind” (the lyrical substitution of “Chi-Town” for “New York” also helped) than to songs off his latest album like “Sly Fox,” after which Nas called Fox News “the devil.”

Q-Tip, one of two A Tribe Called Quest MCs, along with Phife Dawg, preceded Tribe’s set with songs from his upcoming solo album The Renaissance, but nobody knew or could make out the songs over the shoddy sound system, making for a disappointing combination. He also seemed indifferent through most of the set but become astronomically more animated for his recital of Tribe hit “Sucka Nigga.” Anxious for the Tribe, when Q-Tip finished and the stage went pitch dark, some booing ensued.

Had Phife Dawg and DJ-producer Ali Shaheed Muhammad not appeared, there might have been a riot. Wearing a Chicago Bulls Derrick Rose jersey and looking a little chubby at 37, Phife joined Q-Tip in recounting vintage Tribe.

Here as a volunteer with Rock the Vote, Max Rothstein, 19, took in the set after a day of registering voters, grooving to a climaxing medley of tracks like “Can I Kick It” and “Electric Relaxation.”

“Basically everything we wanted to hear,” Rothstein said.

Fifty years ago, Chicago’s Maxwell Street was alive with the blues. In the 1930s and 1940s, the Great Migration brought thousands of poor blacks to the city and Maxwell Street became their home. There they electrified the history of music and created the Chicago Blues. New York had jazz and New Orleans had Zydeco, but nobody had a sound like Chicago’s.

This is the Maxwell Street that musician Frank Scott Jr. used to play at, with friends like Freddy King and Junior Wells. Together they helped turn the acoustic delta blues into “a mournful cry,” as Phil Ranstrom, a documentarian who has dedicated two movies to Maxwell Street, calls it. “It came from black people who had been persecuted, who had been abused… and whether you’re singing a cappella or playing the harmonica, or just a guitar or beating on the drums or doing whatever it is, it’s a feeling. It’s an expression of pain in its rawest form.”

When Chicago decided to tear down the old Maxwell Street Market in 1994 to make room for the ever-expanding University of Illinois-Chicago, Scott built a bandstand. When the city leveled his bandstand, Scott was left on the streets, the last of the Maxwell Street bluesmen.

“Maxwell Street was very important to me, and when they took it down, they took everything,” Scott says.

Chicago was only ever two things: hog butcher to the world and home to the blues. And soon it might be neither. When storied blues musicians can’t make a living in the city, “everybody loses,” Ranstrom says: “Without the blues, Chicago is just another flyover city.” With the rise of hip-hop and the passing of many blues legends, the genre is more threatened than ever.

So what is Chicago doing to preserve its legacy? Well, it depends on who’s judging. The 25th annual Chicago Blues Festival takes place in the heart of the city this weekend, and Barry Dolins, the festival’s director, believes that it does quite a bit to protect the blues tradition.

“Chicago being the blues capital of the world, it’s only fitting that it should be the home of the world’s largest blues festival,” he says. “When there isn’t any major medium that’s presenting this music, the festival plays a major role in keeping that tradition alive.”

James Porter, a freelance roots music journalist, agrees, to an extent. “There’s a select group of survivors that they’ll roll out for one last go around. It’s nice that these people are still around, but by the same token there are a lot of lesser people who need that platform,” Porter says.

The Blues Fest has several stages where less-famous blues musicians play. For casual fans who are not looking for these musicians, however, it would appear to be a festival of those same survivors — B.B. King, Koko Taylor, Lonnie Brooks. Porter acknowledges that “it is good that Chicago promotes the blues festival as much as it does. On the down side of that, it doesn’t seem to be any really exciting new blues coming out right now.”

So the city isn’t on the cutting edge of promoting underground artists. No big surprise. But with many thriving, world-famous blues clubs, there’s got to be a stage somewhere.

Again, that is debated. Steve Balkin, a blues preservationist, dismisses most of these clubs as peddlers in a fake blues. “People come from all over the world to Chicago, and they want to see Chicago blues. Some of those people don’t know anything about the blues, so if they come in a North Side blues club with mostly white people in the audience, they’re satisfied. But for people who really like blues, they want to see it at the street level, and they want to see it in the midst of African-American audiences.”

Porter is possibly more disdainful, saying, “You’ve got people who go to some tourist trap club or sports bar, and you’ll hear people pound out ‘Sweet Home Chicago’ or ‘Hoochie Cootchie Man’ and think, ‘Oh wow, I saw some down home blues.’ When really it’s just a bar mitzvah band.”

Isabelle Libmann, the director of special events and public relations for Buddy Guy’s Legends, one of those so-called “tourist trap clubs,” says that offering new musicians a place to play is a top priority. “That’s one thing that we’re trying to do, is reach out to a younger generation, because if we don’t, it will be gone.”

It’s not difficult to see where her fear comes from. Rap and hip-hop have become ubiquitous in popular culture, replacing jazz and blues as the primary forms of African-American music.

Even Ronnie Baker Brooks, blues musician and son of blues legend Lonnie Brooks, felt this pressure growing up. “When hip-hop just come along, my friends used to laugh at me for listening to Howlin’ Wolf,” he says, referring to the Chicago blues legend. “They’d say, ‘What are you listening to? You’re not an old man.’ I’d say, ‘You don’t have to be an old man to listen to the blues.’”

Being an old man helps, however, when playing the blues. “It is an adult music. As Willie Dixon said, ‘It’s the facts of life.’ So to be able to sing about one’s experiences, it does take experiences,” says Dolan, though he admits that people as young as fourth-graders will perform at the Blues Fest this year.

Brooks is part of the younger generation of blues musicians, but at 41 years of age, it’s hard to see how he’ll have more appeal to teenagers than Kanye West. When kids are asked to choose between bling and blues, the choice is made for them.

“It’s a hip-hop world right now, but if it wasn’t for the blues, they wouldn’t have this hip-hop world,” Brooks says.

Many see rap as carrying on the blues tradition. Dr. Portia Maultsby, a professor of folklore at Indiana University and the director of its Archives of African American Music and Culture, says that the “blues still exists, it’s just been reformulated into a new style reflecting contemporary trends.” She is not worried about the change, saying, “Music will change because people are constantly changing.”

Dolins agrees, saying that “rap is in the continuum of talking blues.” He is more concerned about the effects than Maultsby is, however, adding, “In popular culture the forces of mass media really change folk music. And since there isn’t really any full-time radio or major print media that cover the blues, it may be in jeopardy.”

Brooks, who has worked with hip-hop artists on his last two CDs, believes that hip-hop may even have something to offer the blues. “In order for it to grow, we’re going to have to accept change. But when you put the change into it, you have to be true to the music and the people who came before you. It has to be authentic.”

When asked if he’s worried about the blues dying out, he discounts the idea.

“It’ll never die, because it’s the facts of life. As long as we have humans on earth, we’ll have the blues.”

There is no blues on Maxwell Street anymore. Frank Scott Jr. sits by himself, holding his guitar and following the frets while the rock and roll cover band in front of him draws a crowd by playing a Santana song. Maxwell Street knows “Black Magic Woman” now, but its eponymous “Maxwell Street Boogie” was forgotten long ago. Scott sits in the corner, alone, holding his guitar and waiting for someone to listen.

“I’m just trying to keep the blues alive,” says Frank with a stiff laugh. “I’m just trying to keep the blues alive.”

Correction — June 12, 2008: The original version
of this article misidentified a source. His name is Barry Dolins, not
Gary Dolan.

But before we all lock ourselves in the library and crack open our notebooks, One-Click Wonders leaves you with a preview of what to scope out sonically this summer. Because even if you put all the bloggers onto a boat and sank said vessel, music would still exist.

Most anticipated album — A lot to choose from for this one, but, since we love them so, my vote is for The Hold Steady’s Stay Positive. Early listens to America’s favorite pack of musically-excellent bar rats reveals an album not nearly as excellent as Boys and Girls in America, but still an awesome affair filled with catchy guitars and sing-a-long choruses. Stay Positive also gets the nod for “album most likely to propel band into the mainstream spotlight.”

Best-bet Festival — The Pitchfork Music Festival captures 2008 best, but that still isn’t enough to knock off the utter insanity that is Lollapalooza this year. Radiohead, Rage and Kanye as headliners? Not to mention Wilco, Gnarls Barkley, Lupe Fiasco, Broken Social Scene and tons of other great acts.

Best concert — Wherever Radiohead is stopping this summer. That was easy!

Best rap album with the worst name — Outkast Big Boi drops a solo album this summer, titled Sir Luscious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty. Uhhhh, who is Chico Dusty and why does his son have such a stupid moniker? I feel he could be a character in Semi-Pro. Oh wait, Andre 3000 covered that one. Anyway, ignore the horrid title, and listen to lead single “Royal Flush.” Now this sounds good.

Best remix album — The Twilight Sad’s Here It Never Snowed Afterwards It Did mini-album. Glasgow’s saddest bunch reworks several of the tunes from their 2007 debut album, cutting the guitar-feedback out in favor of strings and vocal emphasis. None of the reworkings on this bite-sized LP come close to matching the awesomeness of the original tracks (guitar squall is what these lads do best), but they are very listenable, and introduce intriguing opportunities not seen in the band before. Plus, the new title track kills.

Song everyone should be sick of by now, but won’t go away this summer — I’d heard about Leona Lewis and her kinda-gross sounding “Bleeding Love,” but never actually got around to looking it up. When I finally did, I discovered I’ve already heard this song — roughly a billion times pumping out of passing cars, on the radio and inside Best Buy. And I don’t think it’s going anywhere. At least I have a face to associate this song with when I hear it for the trillionth time in August.

Artist due for a re-examination — Today, Liz Phair is best known for helming this Avril-aping piece of pop and a song featured in every WNBA ad back in the day. But she was once every indie boy’s dream girl, the musical mastermind behind the suprisingly not-safe-for-work Exile in Guyville. That seminal album gets a reissue this year, and Phair will tour the country performing that album this summer. Expect the errors of her ways to be ignored as everybody talks about how great “Fuck and Run” is.

Worst album art — Say hello to My Morning Jacket’s Evil Urges, otherwise known as Dream Theater Wants Their Artist Back.

Song of the summer — Probably “Bleeding Love,” but I’m holding out hope for Estelle and Kanye pretending to be British.

Bold prediction that isn’t that bold — Nine Inch Nails will release two more out-of-nowhere online albums.

Band that needs to just go away - Weezer, I’m glad you discovered the Internet. Now just vanish. And take Tay Zonday with you.

Pretty neat, and always a good time seeing a celebrity wearing an NU sweatshirt. Some of it seems a bit weird (why a shout-out to Bobb? Flat Top? Can’t find a word that rhymes with Chipotle?), but cute all the same. Also, does anyone jump in the lake at midnight? Further more, did the people who cheered for the Smokin’ Aces line actually see that movie? It sucked.

And hey, Common hates Bush! So do I! It’s a shame Obama isn’t running against Bush!

It’s Dillo Day! Get up early, head out to the Lakefill and start enthusiastically… carrying eight-foot metal trusses.

For most students, Dillo Day marks a day-long festival of alcoholism and marathon partying. But for me and the rest of the Mayfest crew, Saturday was a marathon of intricate organization, risk management and fetching the artists whatever their musical hearts may desire.

Want to see how a sample Mayfester’s Dillo Day compares to your own? Let’s take a look at how my day went.

5 a.m.: Wake up! Curse/applaud myself for thinking of setting the alarm clock a good ten feet from my bed.

5:45 a.m.: Run to the Allison ATM, where an exec member (who has already been working for an hour) picks me and other Mayfesters up. Drop phone in bush; consequently almost miss ride.

6 a.m.: Arrive to Lakefill and begin unloading the three semis full of sound and lighting equipment. The trusses are heavy, but sun is shining and the field still has grass.

7:30 a.m.: Take scenic golf cart tour of the shoreline in search of merchandise tables. The lake is beautiful. I am nearly convinced that I should become a morning person.

8 a.m.: Fold/organize vast piles of t-shirts available for sale with the rest of the Promo team. Who knew that my extreme perfectionism would come in handy?

9:30 a.m.: Broken Social Scene’s tour bus is too tall and the band is stuck on the west side of the El tracks. Where in Evanston is there a bridge with 13-foot clearance?!

10 a.m.: Receive call from Third Eye Blind’s merchandise rep. He’s here and wants to set up camp. But wait … our supply of tables is running low. The Production Team rations them out carefully, and the wary rep sets up a makeshift stand near the stage.

10:20 a.m.: Go to drive Broken Social Scene’s tour manager and bus driver to the Hotel Orrington.

10:21 a.m.: How the hell do you start this SUV?! When did turning a metal key become uncool? Why would a company make a car this high-tech? Better question: Why does Northwestern have a car this high-tech? I think my tuition may have bought this.

11 a.m.: Back on the Lakefill, I grab some water and notice a man sitting on a couch in the hospitality tent. He looks strangely familiar. How do I know him? We make awkward eye contact as I try to figure out why he looks so familiar… then I realize it’s because he’s Ted Leo.

12:30 p.m.: Join Third Eye Blind merch man in his little homemade booth. This is a good spot for this show; I have a clear view of the stage and I can talk to the crowd. Students are very slowly starting to trickle in. That oblivious parent on the field might want to take their small child and run.

1:30 p.m.: Awkward drunk kid quote of the day: “You look familiar. Have we hooked up?” No. No we have not.

2:30 p.m.: Mud wrestling/awkward sexual tension begins directly in front of my table. People are more interested in throwing watered-down dirt at each other than they are in buying this merchandise. The Third Eye Blind rep is not thrilled.

4 p.m.: Realize I am in love with Ted Leo. I consider taking a golf cart to go buy a ring somewhere, so I can propose.

5 p.m.: Red Bull has officially become the newest and most important food group.

6:30 p.m.: Watch Broken Social Scene from ground in front of the barricades. You can tell these guys are just having the best time on stage. I, meanwhile, am getting a massage by sitting directly in front of the subwoofer.

7 p.m.: Clear stage from Broken Social Scene. Somehow I am trusted to take their guitars offstage. Sweet.

7:20 p.m.: Short dance party break on the lacrosse field.

7:35 p.m.: Shit! We lost Broken Social Scene’s merchandise. Way to be aware, Karen.

7:40 p.m.: … and they still give me a free CD? Forget Ted Leo, I love Canadians. We find the merch under a table.

7:30 p.m.: Opt to sit back during Cool Kids. A Broken Social Scene roadie discovers that if he pokes my sunburn, it turns white. He finds this repeatedly amusing.

8:45 p.m.: Drive Broken Social Scene members to the Hotel Orrington. I know it’s been a long day now because I have a van full of an amazing band and all I can think about is how much I want to use a real bathroom instead of a Port-a-Potty.

9 p.m.: The crowd here to see Common is HUGE. In the dark I can barely see the back, even from the DJ booth. Seeing crowds this big makes all of this worthwhile.

Post-Common ~ 2 a.m.: Take down all lighting and sound equipment we put up this morning, including digging cables out of the Woodstock-esque mud pit that used to be a field. My back will never be the same.

2:15 to 3 a.m.: Find ride home, shower, collapse in bed. My shoulders are burnt to a crisp, my back and knees are screaming at me, my hands are raw and the sun will be rising soon. The Dillo tattoo on my neck will not come off. My day has reached the 23-hour mark, and I am functioning in a DM-esque haze.

And I love it.

Forget the parties: I am definitely crewing again next year.

The philosophy of this year’s Dillo Day lineup, which smushes ’90s prom-pop up again against ’00s political punk and two forms of Chicago rap, isn’t that far from the philosophy guiding the two DJs in Flosstradamus: For them, it doesn’t matter what kind of music comes out of the speakers so long as it gets people moving. In their remixes, bootleg mash-ups and original tracks, Curt Cameruci and Josh Young seem to always be searching for a common group between pop, rock, hip-hop and electronic music — and usually, that common ground comes in the form of an awesome beat and shout-along chorus.

The Chicago act brings their club-tested DJing skills to Northwestern tomorrow, when they’re scheduled to play sets before and after Broken Social Scene (so that means they’ll likely play from 5 to 5:30 and from 6:30 to 7). In a phone interview with North by Northwestern, Cameruci and Young talked about their expectations, their “have fun” philosophy and the difference between them and a certain other DJ who came to campus this year.

NBN: You’re playing on Dillo Day, which for a lot of Northwestern students is the day where they wake up at 9 a.m. and get drunk or high and then they go see a bunch of concerts. So how do you feel about playing for a bunch of drunken college kids?

Curt Cameruci: That’s pretty much what we do all the time (laughs). I mean, depending on if they’re college kids or if they’re just normal kids, we usually just play for drunkies anyway. We play in clubs all the time, so it’s either they’re drunk or on something.

You’ll be playing outside, does that change your act much as opposed to when you’re in a club?

Cameruci: A little bit. Lollapalooza last year was the best. When we play outside, kids just let loose a little more. I think the whole festival environment is just a gateway to letting loose and having a good time. We love to play outside, we love to play at festivals.

You’re playing before and after Broken Social Scene, and you’re playing on a day where the other big acts are Common, Cool Kids, Third Eye Blind and Ted Leo. Would you ever think of mashing up any of their songs?

Cameruci: Yeah, maybe. When we make our bootleg songs, we kind of use whatever, anything that sounds good. So, yeah, that’s the thing: There’s no boundaries to what we do. If there’s good music we’ll just use it. It’s going be an interesting thing tomorrow cuz of all of the different bands, all the different types of music. We’re more party music. I think the Cool Kids are probably the closest to us, they’ve got the same party vibe. Common is more thought-provoking. Broken Social Scene will be a little more crazy. It’ll be weird in a good way.

How would you describe your act for someone who’s never heard you?

Cameruci: It’s fun. There’s no boundaries. You shouldn’t take yourself seriously if you come see us. You should be ready to wild-out and have a good time. Because a lot of time, people think that since we’re DJs that it’s all pretentious, but our whole stance on the DJ thing is having fun. We play a bunch of anthems and stuff like that, and we don’t really look at ourselves as DJs, we look at ourselves as an act.

The last big-name DJ to come to campus was Girl Talk. Who would win in a battle between Girl Talk and Flosstradamus?

Cameruci: It depends on what the grounds are in the battle. Because we could do what he does, but could he do what we do? He uses a computer to make a lot of his stuff, and when he performs it’s all computer stuff that mixes it all together. Josh and I, we could do the same thing, we could cut up a bunch of loops and do the same thing. He’s a talented dude, he’s awesome, we like Greg. But it depends. I don’t know what the analogy is. If you ask a BMX biker to battle a road-bike racer, like, who would win? It’s like, we kind of do the same thing, but we also do different things.

Any advice for an aspiring DJ? How do you get a crowd dancing?

Josh Young: Straight up, just try and be you. That’s the key to being a good DJ in this day in age, cuz everyone has access to everyone’s music on the Internet. So, honestly, just play what you actually feel. Play music that you really love to hear. And, you know, be nice to people. Because there’s a lot of people out there that kind of get in their heads and get kind of crazy. You just gotta go out there and have fun. If you’re enjoying it, everyone out there out there is watching you and will know that you’re really feeling it.

You guys are working on an album, right? What’s it gonna be like?

Young: It’s our first record, outside of just doing remixes. It’s all our original production. We’re gonna have some guest rappers on it and different people and different friends and family members and all that. It’s gonna be cool. It’s kind of interesting, because it’s our first time. We’re just gonna play it by ear, collaborate with our friends and get a lot of good people to get the vibe strong.

There’s little that most students want to do on Dillo Day besides, obviously, get crunked. But for those students who don’t view getting sloshed on the Lakefill with thousands of our peers as the best day ever — or for those who remember how poorly it went last year — fret not, Northwestern and Chicago are here for you.

Not into porn at Tech? See it at the Museum of Contemporary Art

This weekend marks the opening of the Jeff Koons exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago. Jeff Koons is considered an artist-provocateur. My extensive knowledge of art — provided by one art history survey class — informs me that artist-provocateur means, person-who-makes-things-that-most-people-would-not-consider-art. That said, his takes on popular images often illuminate what we hold important in our culture. And they’re pretty to look at.

The event is special in its depth. According to Tricia VanEck, the curator for the exhibit, “the Jeff Koons show is probably something that you won’t see ever again in Chicago. It is 59 works from his career… 38 years of work. It’s a really fantastic grouping of work that Jeff has personally installed himself. It’s not only seeing works that will never be seen again, but it’s seeing them through the eye of the artist.”

If the whole art thing doesn’t appeal to you, consider this: The MCA Web site says, “This exhibition contains some sexually explicit material. We strongly advise you to preview this exhibition before visiting with children.” The explicit material referenced is his “Made in Heaven” series, which shows Koons and his now ex wife, and former porn star, consummating their love. That’s the kind of art Northwestern students can appreciate on Dillo Day.

Don’t want to do Dillo Day? Do Division instead

The Do Division Festival is a two-day street festival and sidewalk sale being held by the West Town Chamber of Commerce. If you miss Ted Leo at Dillo Day, you can catch him here on Sunday. And with Mucca Pazza and Lucero headlining on Saturday, it might be worth it to skip Dillo Day.

According to Kara Salgado, the executive director of the West Town Chamber of Commerce, “The major appeal [of the Do Division fest] is that it’s a really local event. The Empty Bottle did the booking for the music. The event really reflects the neighborhood.” What neighborhood is that? Nothing less than the uber-hipster Wicker Park. So grab your ironic t-shirts, and head over for an “okay” time.

Not hipster enough for you? Check out the Breeders at the Metro

Capping off a fantastic day for concerts in Chicago, Kim Deal’s post-Pixies band the Breeders will headline a show with The Montana Boys at the Metro. Tickets are a steep $23, but since you’re not likely to catch the Pixies anytime soon, it’s worth it to shell out the money.

Don’t want to take the El anywhere? Stay on campus

One of the many benefits of attending a fine, prestigious university such as Northwestern is that there are always fine, prestigious things to do, even on a day that’s mostly about drinking. If classical music is more your style, Northwestern University Symphony Orchestra, or NUSO, will be performing “The Requiem” by Giuseppe Verdi at 7:30 p.m.

If you’d rather skip music altogether, TI will be showing two MFA directors’ projects this weekend, Amadeus and In a Dark Dark House. While they are technically student projects, this is Northwestern, so they’re sure to be good. And if they’re not, no loss, because both shows are free.

Above a pilates studio in Wicker Park sits the headquarters of Pitchforkmedia.com, more resembling a warehouse than an office: With the high ceilings, evenly spaced desks, giant music posters lining the walls and countless crates of promotional CDs on the floor, it’s like a factory whose product is information about obscure bands.

In the 13 years since its founding, Pitchfork has become one of the preeminent sources for discussion of independent rock music on the web, gaining a reputation for both creating and decimating bands’ reputations with raves and pans. The Pitchfork brand has quietly expanded into a media giant, providing a constant stream of news updates, MP3s, columns and interviews alongside its reviews. And this past April, Pitchfork launched “Pitchfork TV” — a video site packed with music videos, original footage and little-seen documentaries.

Pitchfork’s rise has not been without backlash, however: It’s often accused of pretension, elitism and only liking music that the rest of the world would call noise. With 1.2 million unique visitors per month, though, it’s hard to deny the site’s impact on music culture. NBN talked to senior news editor Amy Phillips to find out the source of the publication’s power.

NBN: What does Pitchfork do best?

Phillips: I think what Pitchfork does best is discovering new bands and presenting them in an informed critical capacity. Not just saying “here’s a new band, they’re awesome!” but getting a little deeper than that.

How has the site changed?

It’s changed a lot. It used to just be Ryan [Schriber, editor-in-chief] in his bedroom. Now, there’s a full-time staff of about 15. There’s an office in New York as well.

It’s just gotten way, way, way more content then it used to be. There’s a music festival now and Pitchfork TV, a second website — so just a lot bigger.

What are the goals?

The goal is to turn people on to new music and engage in informed, critical discussion about that music and to give our opinions about how we feel about music and — from my perspective, I run the news section — just to keep people up on bands they care about, or don’t care about.

Pitchfork is often viewed as the tastemaker for underground music. Why is it so influential?

First of all, I don’t think we’re the only tastemaker out there. I think we’ve had some influence because, one, Ryan stuck with it through thick and thin and never gave up and never “sold out.” We’re not controlled by MySpace or Microsoft or Buzznet or something, and I think that people like the integrity of the site in that we’re not afraid to say bad things. We’re not afraid to give strong opinions.

I think what appeals to people is that we’re fans first before anything else. Music is our number one love.

We’re not trying to be cool. We’re not trying to be trend setters. We are just really enthusiastic about music and want people to share our enthusiasm.

Is there a Pitchfork sound?

I don’t think you can say that anymore… nowadays, if you look at what gets our Best New Music or what ends up on our year-end list, you know, everything from Kanye West to Vampire Weekend to Burial. I don’t think you can pigeonhole it anymore.

Pitchfork is sometimes tied to an underground, hipster culture. How do you feel about that association, for better or for worse?

If you know any of us you know that we’re just huge, huge music nerds. Just, music is our number one love and what we care about. Sure, music can be cool, and knowing about certain bands can give you cred in certain circles but I don’t think most of the people on our staff would identify as hipsters or trend setters or anything cool.

I don’t know if that’s necessarily a stigma, “oh, you guys are cool.” I guess that’s good.

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In other words, they’ve got the tunes to turn the Lakefill into a part-rave, part-mosh-pit, part-juke-hall dance party. Sure, the “indie rock meets ultra-thumping dance/hip hop track” formula isn’t exactly fresh anymore, and Northwestern got to experience its most innovative form when Girl Talk came to campus. But the two DJs in Flosstradamus are among the best mash-up artists because of their pop instincts: Your first reaction to most of their tracks will be to grin, your next will be to dance, and then you might get a little flustered that you can’t get what you just heard out of your head. Ask anyone who’s seen the them at their countless number of shows in Chicago over the past few years — it’s gonna be fun out there.

As Daft Punk-mania slowly fades after a manic 2007, the fallout from the robotic duo’s rise to prominence can begin to be assessed. Tons of good was done (an awesome live show, Justice, “Stronger”), but Daft Punk’s success also led to plenty of half-assed imitations slowly becoming more prominent. See the likes of Does It Offend You, Yeah? and Ghostland Observatory. Chicago electro-pop duo Walter Meego also sound similar to a certain mechanical pair of Parisians, but on their debut album Voyager, prove to be a band simply taking stellar notes from Daft Punk, not cheating off their homework.

Voyager squares rockin’ guitars against bright synth waves, a neon-lit combination recalling the interstellar sounds of Daft Punk circa Discovery. But Walter Meego don’t make music for the dance floor; you can move to Voyager, but more because it’s excellent pop music buried under guitar, electronics and melencholy lyrics. Lead track “Forever” sees the duo at their most poppy and most catchy, electro-squiggles and keyboards leading up to the album’s most irresistible chorus (punctuated with guitar squeals, nonetheless). Other standouts find the duo getting slightly darker while retaining some shine, such as on the heavy-hitting “Lost” and frantic twirl of “Letting Go.” Walter Meego does downtrodden best on the previously-released “Keyhole,” where the lead vocals undergo some ghostly, screechy transformation all while being joined by a very un-Daft piano.

Walter Meego never rip-off Daft Punk wholesale, but the album’s weakest tracks overindulge in some of the French duo’s tricks. The vocoder-heavy “Girls” and “Tommorrowland” move a bit too slowly and stick out amongst all the faster, more catchy songs on Voyager. “More Than I Can Say” is the album’s one moment of pure boredom, a guitar-heavy ditty that is never that enjoyable. The only other Daft Punk-heavy flashback conjured on this album comes on the very danceable “Baby Please,” where a watery guitar sounds straight out of “Something About Us.” Not that their is anything wrong with that.

Voyager shares its title with a Daft Punk song . Whether or not that’s intentional, Walter Meego simply hint at the sound of those robots, and never try to bite their moves, opting instead to apply them in new ways. And they succeed, as Voyager is a bright debut album and an exciting collection of heart-heavy electro-pop. Plus, it’s nice to know two other guys in Chicago know how to honor Daft Punk in interesting ways.

Bonus video for “Wanna Be A Star” below. It’s an older version, but still pretty good.