John Iskander and friend

John Iskander was "at dinner with a priest" when he came up with the name Parade of Flesh, his one-man live music "boutique." But it would be rather antiseptic to label what he does as simply booking bands. I mean, the man has vision and aspirations: He'd love to book a black metal show at Medieval Times, and take over July Alley, for starters.

Iskander gets to know his bands' particular vibe enough that he's able to sort of custom-build a show. Sure, any good booker will have a sense of flow when it comes to pairing up bands, but Parade of Flesh seems to have a special flair for it, combining art and style to put some texture to his shows.

The bands he works with aren't always the most well-known, nor do they likely have tons of press resources available. Adding to the challenge is the fact that Iskander focuses on new bands nationally, not just locally. He has his work cut out for him when it comes to familiarizing not only himself, but his followers with new sounds. Luckily, he seems to have earned his customers' trust.

Iskander does his homework, pays attention to new music, seemingly via all those little indie labels out there, and treats his components like ingredients.

Jill Noel

Chris Galt

Chris Galt isn't always the most welcome person in a venue. He comes rolling in with his own console, often unplugging everything and rewiring the systems together just hours before a show. Cool thing is, once people get past his headbanger hair and see he's not only there to help, but brings a shitload of knowledge to the table, things seem to work out OK.

Galt is a live sound engineer who cut his teeth at Dallas Sound Lab and Mediatech Institute, and he's part of a small club of soundmen in our local music scene who tackle the arduous task of attempting live recordings. Like Chad Lovell at Curtain and Lee Russell at Trees, Galt's trying to capture those great live moments. Of course, without a zillion dollars in mobile recording equipment, that can be a real bitch to pull off, and takes not only someone extra knowledgeable but damn supportive of the cause.

If you play your cards right with a local music venue, all you need is a huge picture window as your marketing tool. Certainly anyone who has strolled by LaGrange and gazed inside felt the magnetic draw of not only impressively thought out tacos and vodka snow cones, but also an eclectic aggregate of local music and a built-in crowd.

Jeremy Poyo is the GM of LaGrange. Before that, he was one of the soldiers managing Gypsy Tea Room, circa 1997-2005. Further back, he was kid who grew up in a musical family, always being towed along to concerts and playing cello in junior high, a fact he tried desperately to hide from the unforgiving jocks leaving campus alongside him. Not an easy task considering the size of the instrument's case.

To hear Poyo speak of the local music venues he's been a part of, one word comes to mind: gratitude. That he recently reunited with his Gypsy Tea Room booking colleague Scott Beggs expresses that sentiment, and he's quick to credit the people around him with the success of a place like LaGrange.

It blogs. It books cool local music shows. It's a must-follow Facebook and Twitter page. It promotes bands, free of charge. So what is Dallas Distortion Music, exactly?

Essentially, DDM is Matt Vickers, 34, and Evan Henry, 15. They started out as big fans of Sub Pop Records, and ended up not being able to hold back their passion for music. It only made sense for the two to start collaborating last year, considering they were both doing the same thing.

Lee Russell has spent the last 27 years doing live sound at just about every major amphitheater in the country, traveled the world with some really big productions, and is the man responsible for the jet engine sound system at Trees. It's his baby, and whoa, does it wail.

As far as live sound engineers go, he's one of the more courteous, laid-back ones out there. Not that the rest of them are necessarily grouches to deal with, it's just that the job presents the challenge of dealing with a lot of different, sometimes very intense personalities. Russell's emotional engine runs cool, though, and his happy-go-lucky attitude is a reflection of his love for the job.

Who is Kim Finch? Hell if she knows. She'd pour you a nice shot if you could help her figure that out. Finch was once "Puncho Villa" in the Assassination City Derby, from 2005-2007, but first impressions might have you guessing as such. She's also not a pirate. She cleared that up herself recently, by expressing her disdain for repeatedly getting her coffee change in dollar coins. Kim Finch is part land bandit, part L7's Donita Sparks and part Riff Randall from Rock and Roll High School.

No, that ain't it either. Shit.

With partner Chelsea Callahan, they run the Double Wide, otherwise known as the border crossing between Deep Ellum and Fair Park. Nowadays, Finch also works hard at Single Wide, Double Wide's smaller bastard child on Lower Greenville, born in the back of a wood-paneled station wagon in the parking lot of the bowling alley. On league night, of course. But back to Kim Finch. She's this cool, creative chick who's friends with ALL of us in the local music scene.

Hey, let's go bother her while she bartends. She's used to it.

Alex Gerst has been mixing some of the best (and most historic) Dallas rock for well over a decade now. On Fair To Midland's latest LP, Arrows and Anchors, you can hear his contribution on single "Musical Chairs." His work dates back into the late '90s and beyond: Doosu, Spoonfed Tribe, The Feds, Slow Roosevelt. The list goes on.

The Observer nominated him for Best Engineer/Producer for his work on Slow Roosevelt's 1998 Throwawayyourstereo LP, and heck if he isn't a three-time award recipient from KEGL's local show (back in the days when the show doled out awards).

Equally neat is the random tidbit from Gerst's background: His father Harvey got the Tandy TRS-80 personal computer off the ground, and was responsible for writing the manual for those old suckers.

Ever look up at apartments above some of our local bars and wonder who the hell lives there? Meet Ilona Scheel, who resides just above Expo Park's Amsterdam Bar. No, she's not a crazy cat lady, nor does she sell crack to high school kids or brandish a broom at the patrons and screech about all the noise. She's actually quite involved with Amsterdam Bar's goings on.

We've witnessed her above-bar flat firsthand, as Scheel occasionally entertains up there as well. What makes her place even cooler is that the back exit overlooks the bar's fabulous outdoor patio and stage. And Scheel? Well, she's a trip....

Josh Baish is the head honcho at Denton's Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios, perhaps one of the most important venues in DFW's music scene since opening in 1997. Baish owes its success to the particular chemistry of personalities running the place: He and the staff of RGRS make everything about their building not only functional, but fun.

The common thread in RGRS' staff seems to be wit and charm, with a tireless work ethic thrown in for good measure. More than anything, they share a collective enthusiasm for the talent-strong art and music scene their neighborhood consistently offers. We pick his brain after the jump.

Annie Karundethu runs a small but passionate organization called Local Euphoria, comprised of a couple folks who want to expose local talent and contribute to charity at the same time. She's hands-down one of the sweetest and kindest human beings this side of the clouds, bringing support and structure to the scene. She's a force of positivity, and a little of that could really go a long way in a town like ours.

What sparked your interest in all this local arts stuff?
I have always enjoyed the live music scene in Dallas. I love jazz, in addition to all the rock and alternative stuff we promote. I was always involved in music in my earlier days. At first, it was the church choir and singing competitions for classical Indian music, and I played the flute in junior high band. I did not actually pursue the flute beyond school, but I sing on occasion here and there, when I can find the time.