Though Catamount Bar & Grille can be a jock jam at times, weekend nights find the upstairs transformed for fans of hip-hop, funk and dancing. And even amid uncertainty, Friday Night Funk with DJ A’ight and Sole Food with Your Boy Re-Flex are growing in popularity.

With the recent closing of The Pub & Grill at Santa Fe Brewing Company, Cowgirl’s scaled-back hours, the criminal underuse of Warehouse 21, the absence of venues that accommodate both drinkers and underage fans, and a population that has a hell of a time getting out of its homes, Santa Fe’s nightlife is heading in a dangerous direction. Too many events are geared at tourists and the 40-plus set, while the 20-somethings are lucky to get one decent show a week.

If you’ve tuned in to local radio station Blu 102.9 over the past 10 months or so, you may have been surprised. Maynard Del Mar, Yon Hudson and Ira Gordon have been switching formats to a special emphasis on dance music and local talent.

As 2010 comes to a close (thank fucking God) and as I wait for hoverboards (they’re only four short years away), I thought I’d hand out some special mentions to sum up the year.

Europe loves Americana almost as much as Santa Fe does. Case in point: Boris McCutcheon & the Salt Licks’ new album, Wheel of Life, was, as of press time, in the top 10 on the Euro Americana Chart, which is compiled by music industry types in Europe (apparently those who aren’t too busy listening to Falco).

I’ve known plenty of people who have started indie record labels, and it always sounds so easy: Find some acts, press some discs and watch the money roll in. In reality, a ridiculous amount of effort goes into a startup label.

As apparently the only classical music fan with tattooed hands, I recently freaked everyone out at a Nov. 21 performance of George Frideric Handel’s Messiah. As part of its 27th season, the Santa Fe Symphony & Chorus performed the piece at the Lensic Performing Arts Center.

I predict hurt feelings and an epic backlash, but I’m just going to say it: Eldorado spooks me out. The whole thing smacks of Levittown, NY, is as far as hell and has no trees. I often wonder what the residents do with themselves if they don’t feel like a 20-minute drive to see live music.

Not often does a nearly two-year-old album find its way to my desk. I receive plenty of recordings from various musicians and bands but, usually, in a timely fashion based on the album’s release.

As Clear Channel cuts a swath across Radioland, and the airwaves become more boring and homogenized, it’s good to know there are people out there dedicated to using radio in non-commercial ways. Across the globe, pirate radio stations broadcast interesting and exciting programming that extends beyond a preset playlist of record-industry cash cows. Santa Fe is not left out.