Participants in Linda Dubin Garfield's regular self-portrait workshops learn to tell a life story through their own image.

Somewhere between the paparazzi and party photographers sat Andy Warhol.

The Spinning Leaves perform with as few as two members and as many as 20, but they recorded Love with over 50 musicians from the Philadelphia folk scene.

In their two years on the Philadelphia scene, the band have developed a reputation for playfully messing with their audience (at a recent show, Morris read aloud from The Communist Manifesto while the band space-jammed behind him), fellow musicians (when opening for Toy Soldiers at the TLA, they repeatedly hollered "stay tuned for more racist bands" between songs) and journalists interviewing them (well, cheese stickers).

"Indie thug." If all you know of Creepoid is the drifty, echoing folk tones on their Yellow Life Giver 7-inch, the descriptor might strike you as dead wrong.

The band is a tight unit, Redding playing a charismatic frontman by dancing, spinning, gesturing and howling.

Lisa Schaffer remembers that feeling from a 2003 White Stripes concert at the Tweeter Center. "I had really bad seats," she recalls. "And I watched these photographers walk right in with their bags and I was like, 'Why am I not doing that?'"

With a workspace so intertwined with its artist, it's difficult to imagine uprooting it. But that's what Campuzano is doing; this month he takes his desk, table and couch, his materials, books and inspirational effects, re-creating his studio at the University of Pennsylvania's Institute of Contemporary Art.

The past decade has been hell for record labels, but Exotic Fever survived, amassing an eclectic roster of underground artists en route.

The primary songwriter and studio rat behind Philly's In Grenada makes shimmery, positively anthemic indie pop.