A little night music

Several years ago I found it helpful to listen to music when trying to go to sleep. Particularly good was an ambient music program on the local NPR station. Echoes, which is described as a "two-hour music soundscape" on its website, is tailor-made for such purposes.  I don't mean that as a slight against the music on the show, even if it what appears on it isn't what I'd likely listen to during more wakeful parts of the day.  It is good for passive listening, especially when trying to relax.

I hadn't listened to the show in a long time, but last week, for whatever reason, I tuned it in on the clock radio by my bed.  I'd been trying to get the classical music station, but its move to a new frequency appears to mean I can't pull it in where I live.  As I scanned down the dial, I landed upon the show I used to turn to for winding down.

It's been a stressful couple of weeks, so listening to Echoes has been good for attempting to clear my mind as I try to get to sleep.  The only problem is that the show runs from 10 p.m. to midnight Mondays through Fridays.  Typically it's unusual for me to hit the sack before 12 a.m., but I'm making an effort to curl up with the radio by 11:30.  (Let's face it, I could stand to get to bed earlier, especially on weeknights.)

Depending how I set the sleep timer, I'll drift in and out of BBC news.  On the weekend I've ended up hearing radio drama, which was actually kind of interesting, and what is the public radio version of a Saturday night dance party mix.

I hadn't engaged in this old habit of falling asleep to the radio.  I think I did it fairly often growing up too, although the music was surely livelier.  Honestly, sometimes it probably ends up keeping me awake longer.  Still, it's kind of nice, and if it improves my sleeping habits, it can't be a bad thing.

Heat flashes

Is there any time of the year more than summer that brings to mind listening to the radio? Whether it's tuning in to ballgames while sitting on the patio or blasting music from the car stereo while driving with the windows down, this season and the radio seem to be connected.

We're having some hot weather here this week. Yes, I know you're probably having some too wherever you are. So I got to thinking about songs that were big during the summer. What was I probably hearing a lot when I was mowing yards? According to this Billboard list, twenty-five years ago Peter Cetera's "Glory of Love" from The Karate Kid, Part II was dominant. That one has me flashing back, as do many of the others listed.

On the radio

While on the road yesterday I came across a station playing '80s pop and decided to listen for a bit. Part of my reason for sticking with it was that it played a couple songs I haven't heard in ages. For instance, I remember liking this Wham! song, but I had forgotten it even existed. "Everything She Wants" isn't the go-to Wham! hit to signify the decade, but it was a #1 Billboard single.



Soon after that they played a Survivor hit that wasn't from a Rocky movie. Again, I forgot about it until it hit my ears, yet "High On You" got as high as #8 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart.



See, programmers, you don't have to play only the same 200 hits of yesteryear. It's fun to hear the ones we've forgotten too.

Throwback

While walking to the arena for tonight's hockey game, I heard Survivor's "Burning Heart" from Rocky IV playing outside a restaurant/bar. I LOVED this song in junior high. It feels like it's been about that long since I heard it. (It truly may be 15-20 years since it has caught my ears.)

In college I hosted an '80s pop showcase--The '80s Fallout Shelter--on the school's radio station. None of that stuff was getting played on the radio at the time, so it was fun to dig up the one-hit wonders, lesser remembered singles, and big hits to play over the airwaves. It wasn't nostalgia exactly, and even if it were, how can you really understand that at 20?

Honestly, I'm still too young to feel that shock of time's passage and exclusive fondness for something from my youth, but hearing this song in passing tonight, it had the strange effect of cutting through the years and taking me back even though I wasn't in that mindset when the tune hit me. Such things are called throwbacks for a reason.

Afternoon drive

Growing up I was a big fan of Gary Burbank and his afternoon radio show on 700 WLW in Cincinnati. Listening to an AM talk radio station is probably a weird thing for a kid to do, but I thought Burbank was funny.

I worked at the family business after junior high and high school classes, so having his show on for those couple hours--add an extra one when I worked in the summer--helped make the time pass faster. The only problem, as I saw it, was getting pulled away from listening to attend to a customer.

Essentially Burbank did a comedy show. The program featured several bits with recurring characters. Satirical riffs on news and sports dominated the segments, but there were also sillier pieces, like Gilbert Gnarley ("G-n-a-r-l-e-y"), an old man character who made crank calls.

I am somewhat ashamed to admit that this was my favorite and that I attempted my own version of this routine once for a college radio show. I think I called a hot line for Duncan Hines or Pillsbury.

My favorite feature on each day's show was Sports or Consequences, a sports trivia call-in show (sort of) at 4:00 p.m. If I learned anything from all those hours of listening, it was the words "minutiae", which I guessed was spelled "manusha", and "aficionado". The latter word I got to through the program's portmanteau "saficionado", which I'm going to guess was their word for sports aficionado.

I also was taught not to ask questions worded like this: "Can you name the all-time leading home run hitter in Major League Baseball?" Callers who phrased their queries in such a way received the correct answer--"yes"--and being on the receiving end of a sound effect blowing them up.

Some friends and I even visited the studio one day during Sports or Consequences, although there isn't much to say about the experience because we were seriously late due to getting lost. (We made it for the last ten minutes of a half hour show.)

These days I don't expect that there are very many people doing what Burbank, his co-host, and writers did. It's certainly easier to take calls or ramble about the hot issues of the day to fill the minutes than to prep all of the bits they did.

That being said, I've finally started downloading and listening to podcasts of The Best Show on WFMU with Tom Scharpling and have been delighted and amused by it like my younger self was by Burbank. The shows don't necessarily have much in common beyond the medium and focus on humor and entertainment, but Scharpling's show has reminded me what it is like to be riveted to a radio program. It's been so much fun this past week keeping the podcasts on heavy rotation while I'm in the car and even sometimes while at home.

If you're curious about who I've written about today, there are a few videos about Burbank and the show. Here's an interesting conversation about Burbank's influences, such as Bob and Ray and Monty Python, and his process.

Radio shock

Anyone the least bit plugged into the Columbus music scene or local radio knew Andyman, the longtime CD101 DJ and program director. So it came as a complete shock to find out this morning that he died on Sunday at the age of 42.

For out-of-town readers, CD101 is a locally owned radio station that plays alternative rock. While I'm happy to quibble with what they play and don't play, I'm also well aware that in this day and age the station is a rarity. It isn't cookie cutter. It continues to play music in a format that has been abandoned by most commercial stations. It excels at localism, a concept merely given lip service by a lot of stations these days. By all appearances, the station is a labor of love.

That passion for the music and the community was best embodied in Andyman. He always seemed like a good-natured and generous guy. If the stories about him that people are sharing online and on the radio are any indication, it wasn't just an image. He was who he presented himself to be. Is it any surprise that he was one of the most visible and popular DJs in the city?

I didn't know him personally, but I did see him around town at concerts on a fairly regular basis. The last time I saw him he was standing at the gates saying hello to folks and (probably) passing out promotional stuff to those leaving the My Morning Jacket concert in May.

Even though I can't give an expansive remembrance of interacting with him, I do have a small story about Andyman that perhaps is a reflection of who he was. As you know, I was in a car accident while headed home after the canceled St. Vincent concert in February. I tweeted about the accident from the scene. Since I'm pretty sure Andyman wasn't following my Twitter account, I'm not exactly sure how he came across this news, but he sent a message to me asking if I was OK.

My best guess is that he was monitoring what the twitterstream was saying in the wake of the show being called off at the last minute--the station may have been a sponsor for the concert--and I just happened to use the magic words. (In this case that was probably the artist's name.) Still, what need did he have to follow up with someone he didn't know and about an incident he had nothing to do with? Apparently he felt a need, and I appreciated the gesture. I responded to let him know that I was OK, and that was the end of it.

There's no big, dramatic conclusion to the story, but I feel like this anecdote is at least a little revealing--the tip of the iceberg--about who he was. If he'd share his concern for a stranger in this way, imagine what those who did know him must have experienced.

Radio radio

Since I had an aftermarket radio installed in my car, I've spent a lot of time listening to a commercial-free HD channel that plays modern rock hits of yesteryear--or at least what the programmer defines as classics from alternative acts of the late '70s through early '90s. A significant amount of what gets played isn't heard anywhere else on the radio, so it's been nice to be reunited with old favorites and songs I forgot about.



For instance, take the band Icehouse. I'm not sure if they belong on that station but anyway... I hadn't heard them in a long, long time, yet both of the singles I'm embedding sounded pleasing to my teenage ears and keep me listening when they come on the radio. The production dates them--and the videos are very much of their era--but I'll defend them as solid pop songs.



"Electric Blue" may well have been my favorite song during my freshman year of high school. It must have been the basic power chords and obligatory saxophone solo.

Shuffle

Since I don't have anything worth writing about, how about hitting shuffle on the iPod and seeing what comes up? If you'd like to hear these songs, most can be found by using Google to search for the artist and song title and hitting play on the embedded Lala player. (It's a new tool Google offers, but it doesn't provide anything for me to link to.)

1. Laura Cantrell "Yonder Comes a Freight Train" When the Roses Bloom Again (2004)

I haven't given this theory much thought, but I'm going to propose that the best songs about forms of transportation are about trains. Sorry cars. There's something about how the engines chug that lends itself to the rhythms of these songs and conveys the feeling of riding the rails.

2. The Streets "Who Got the Funk?" Original Pirate Material (2002)

There's a left turn--from country to British hip hop--provided by the shuffle. This short track doesn't make much sense out of the album's context. "The day in the life of a geezer," repeats Mike Skinner, essentially summarizing the concept for album about British lad culture. The song is more connective tissue than a standalone piece.

3. The Black Crowes "Sister Luck" Shake Your Money Maker (1990)

The Black Crowes bring back memories of the heritage AOR station WTUE in Dayton. While they sounded like a lot of the classic rock bands, at the time they were a new group. I don't know if this particular song would have been heard on the air, although surely their debut was played at least once at midnight, which is when they'd play one side of an album, take a break, and play the second side. Yes, albums used to have two sides (or sides at all), and rock stations used to be worth listening to.

4. The Beastie Boys "Time for Livin'" The Sounds of Science (1992)

Surely I've heard this before,but this isn't one that stood out to me. Beasties more in punk mode than rapping.

5. David Gray "Easy Way to Cry" A New Day at Midnight (2002)

Can't say that this particular song stirs up any memories, but the album it's from is inextricably tied in my mind to hearing a single from it on WXRT while in Chicago for a high school friend's wedding. Come to think of it, is that the only high school friend's wedding I've attended?

6. The Velvet Underground "I'm Waiting for the Man" The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)

This album isn't considered one of the most highly influential in rock history for nothing. Funny how it can still sound current all these years later.

7. The Beta Band "Al Sharp" Hot Shots II (2001)

Totally random fact (probably): I think I bought this CD in a Rhode Island Borders.

8. Guided by Voices "Gold Star for Robot Boy" Jellyfish Reflector (1996)

I was into the Dayton indie rock legends-to-be a lot at the time because they were from where I am from (generally speaking) and because I was able to find an internet e-mail list to feed my interest in all things GBV. I didn't have a computer at home, but I'd go to the library to check my freenet account--two hours of access per 24 hours, thank you--for the daily digest in my inbox. The album in question is a live bootleg (or semi-official release). Being hip to these kinds of records was like knowing a secret, which probably helped stoke my interest, although it didn't hurt that they were at their creative peak at this time too.

9. George DeVore "Standing Right By Me" Austin, Texas Through the Eyes of Terri Herbert (2001)

Yes, it's on my iPod, but I've never heard this before. I bought the album solely for a rare Kelly Willis track (a cover of Gene Clark's "Full Circle Song") and never bothered listening to the rest. (I don't remember exactly how I acquired it, but it may have been among several CDs someone was selling as a lot on eBay.) It was a bit difficult to come across. Since it was an Austin singer-songwriter's tribute to his girlfriend killed in an accident, I don't know if this was even sold outside of Texas. Collecting songs by downloading them just isn't the same.

10. Soundgarden "Switch Opens" Down on the Upside (1996)

Shuffle goes deep again. It may be twelve or thirteen years since I've heard this cut from Soundgarden's final album.

I don't know how representative this sampling is of my musical tastes, but it's certainly eclectic.

Gone, or almost gone, but not forgotten

The Beloit College Mindset List comes out every year as a reminder of the cultural reality of entering college freshman. For instance, one of the items on this year's list is, "They have never used a card catalog to find a book." (I will take issue with #51: Britney Spears has always been heard on classic rock stations. I think they meant pop/Top 40/CHR/whatever the format is called nowadays.)

Going along with that, I also recall hearing something on NPR a couple years ago about sounds that will be lost to history, like what you hear when a dial-up modem is connecting. I can't find specifically what I wanted, but perhaps it was part of a packaged collection that is being sold.

In the spirit of the list and that radio piece, I've been trying to think of things that are obsolete and will vanish in time or on the verge of disappearing. I've come up with:

-The sound of turning the radio dial. I was thinking in terms of cars, where digital tuners have reined supreme for a long time, but I guess that standalone radios may still have dials. Tied to that...

-The sound of a tube radio warming up. Growing up my dad had an old radio with AM, FM, and shortwave bands. In the morning I would hear him turn it on, which was usually a signal that I needed to get up (or would need to soon) for school. You could hear the voices go from deep and distorted to the warm analog sound when it was properly warm.

-The rotary telephone and the sound of dialing it.

-A dial on a TV for changing channels and the sound of turning it.

-The wired TV remote. When we first got cable TV at home, we had a keypad remote control with a wire running to the box.

-The console TV with wood paneling.

-The Cassingle.

What else should be on such a list?

Radio, Rocca, and Ravelry

On the way home from an exasperating trip to two grocery stores--remind me not to do that shopping on a Saturday morning again--I was listening to the NPR quiz show Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me! What should I hear but talk of knitting and a mention of Ravelry.

It seems that panelist Mo Rocca said something uncomplimentary about handmade sweaters a couple weeks ago on the show. You can imagine how knitters might respond to such a comment.

The healing began with the episode that aired today. (To hear the segment in question, click on "Panel Round Two".) Some Ravelers made the comedian a sweater and presented it to him after the taping. For a full rundown on the brouhaha, check out this Chicago Public Radio blog entry.

(And yes, yet again a non-knitter writing about knitting uses the term crochet interchangeably.)

After dark

Late last night I was driving home from Cleveland and in need of something over the airwaves that would help me stay awake. With my brain pretty much wiped clean from 23 films in four days and not a lot of sleep in that time, making a decision as to what to listen to on the iPod was too much. (So it doesn't sound like I was in any danger of dozing off behind the wheel, I can say that I felt plenty alert.)

I scanned through AM stations hoping to find sports talk or a ballgame, but all I seemed to come across were religious stations and conservative political talk. I was briefly mesmerized by a traffic update station that repeated the same detour information ad infinitum. Eventually I stumbled upon a station playing an old song. The DJ backsell indicated that the songs prior were from Peggy Lee and a Bryan Ferry track from the 9 1/2 Weeks soundtrack. I thought these were unusual things to hear--a music station on AM isn't common either--so I decided to stick around as long as I could pick up the signal.

As the day changed a show called "Midnight Blue" began. The first couple songs sounded like they could have been played off of 78s. Then the host introduced herself and the program, uttered double entendres, and spun Isaac Hayes "Moonlight Lovin' (Ménage à Trois)". This was certainly different.

I felt like I'd come across a station for lonely hearts and insomniacs, the kind of place where Tom Waits' deejay character in Mystery Train worked. The music consisted of bawdy early rock and roll, suggestive old blues tunes ("Banana in Your Fruit Basket"), funky R&B, and anything else that might sound a forlorn siren call late at night.

I could hardly believe my ears. Where in the world was this strange broadcast coming from? The station identified itself as AM740, but I had to listen for twenty minutes before an ID placed its origin in Toronto. Maybe a city that large can accommodate something as weird as this station?

The ads weren't plentiful, but they did break the illusion that the show cast, although one spot sounded like it was for a "massage parlor" or escort service, which would have fit the tone of the show. Some static interfered with my reception, so maybe I misheard.

I was able to keep fairly good reception all the way home. By that time "The All Night Juke Box"--their spelling, not mine--was cranking out an atypical selection of tunes. The drive definitely went faster because of listening to this fresh (if old) mix of music. For awhile it was like I'd picked up some decades-old broadcast that had been lost and just now bounced back to earth or been transported into an alternative movie universe.