I spent last night among stacks of records and racks of CDs, killing time before going on air, loving the unpredictability that comes from improvisation. When I say "I'm playing rock" that means anything with an electric guitar regardless of subgenre.
I love doing these kinds of shows because they remind me of when I used to get stacks of CDs out of the public library in my teens, when it was a hungry curiosity that sent me searching for new sounds, figuring out what I like and what I wasn't so much into, and how that shifts over time, finding definitions for those sounds later, gradually realizing that a lot of people around me were way more cliquish about their love of sound, that certain things weren't acceptable around certain subsets, "too weird," "too metal" "too corporate" "not in English" "too fast" "too slow" "don't like female singers/don't like male-dominated genre" "too straightforward" "not enough guitar" "too much guitar."
I sometimes feel like I don't belong among the obscurists and specialists, but I'm having so much fun and I've been there three years so I can't be totally doing it wrong.
Showing posts with label radio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label radio. Show all posts
Friday, April 1, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
new adventures in sound...
I spent the afternoon at the radio station hanging out with fellow people who know way too much about music as we did our music refiling, which to some may sound like drudgery but I'm an academic peon so I'm reasonably comfortable with mundane tasks provided that the company is good and I might run across something interesting.
The music director had me organize the new stuff, where I found lots of things I'm going to have to check out, and then me and one of the other world DJs went to work on our world vinyl, which includes mostly roots reggae, overproduced "world beat" from the 80's but also ancient Babylonian chants, field recordings of pygmy music, and loads of polka music from Nebraska (who knew?).
Many of the countries that these records came from now either don't exist or have different names, so we were debating whether or not we should still label Kashmir, Sikkim, Yugoslavia, and Tibet as their own countries for the sake of continuity or not, and now I know that we do indeed have Somali folk, classical Persian works, and Dutch trucker country music. Seriously. Thanks to my Viking ancestors, some of the titles are relatively easy to figure out. And it sounds about what you'd think it'd sound like.
And yes, I am totally giggling in my apartment at this.
The music director had me organize the new stuff, where I found lots of things I'm going to have to check out, and then me and one of the other world DJs went to work on our world vinyl, which includes mostly roots reggae, overproduced "world beat" from the 80's but also ancient Babylonian chants, field recordings of pygmy music, and loads of polka music from Nebraska (who knew?).
Many of the countries that these records came from now either don't exist or have different names, so we were debating whether or not we should still label Kashmir, Sikkim, Yugoslavia, and Tibet as their own countries for the sake of continuity or not, and now I know that we do indeed have Somali folk, classical Persian works, and Dutch trucker country music. Seriously. Thanks to my Viking ancestors, some of the titles are relatively easy to figure out. And it sounds about what you'd think it'd sound like.
And yes, I am totally giggling in my apartment at this.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
hang the dj
I avoided the shimmering psychedelic sounds of the Third World for a trip back into the music that for me is the equivalent of comfort and catharsis, waves of distortion and drums.
I think about what I want to hear that early in the morning as I'm getting on the highway and the city lights haven't even come on yet.
It's a strange sensation being up there, powering up the transmitter, sending these sounds out around the world, bouncing off radio receivers, static in your car radio, streamed across the Internet, yet at the same time I exist in isolation in a booth on the fourth floor of a building downtown surrounded by vacant lots and old storefronts, with a stack of CDs, a laptop, and occasional a pile of records, attempting to maintain a mood and flow.
The phone almost never rings, and I hardly talk on the air because I don't like the sound of my voice that much and the music does the talking. It's too early in the morning and I prefer the anonymity. I wonder if anyone's listening at all because the world outside the window is dark and cold.
By the end of the morning I've been getting my estrogen rock on... Sleater Kinney and Curve, Throwing Muses and Patti Smith. I didn't realize we have Jucifer's entire back catalog until I went to put everything away but that could've worked too.
Ended with My Bloody Valentine... six minutes of blissed-out noise. The DJ after me gave me some powdered vitamins and a bottled water because I must look like I'm not doing so good today. Got over my fear of parking garages because I don't want to fight another parking ticket. Caffeine has yet to kick in. I think I need more Ethiopian coffee.
I think about what I want to hear that early in the morning as I'm getting on the highway and the city lights haven't even come on yet.
It's a strange sensation being up there, powering up the transmitter, sending these sounds out around the world, bouncing off radio receivers, static in your car radio, streamed across the Internet, yet at the same time I exist in isolation in a booth on the fourth floor of a building downtown surrounded by vacant lots and old storefronts, with a stack of CDs, a laptop, and occasional a pile of records, attempting to maintain a mood and flow.
The phone almost never rings, and I hardly talk on the air because I don't like the sound of my voice that much and the music does the talking. It's too early in the morning and I prefer the anonymity. I wonder if anyone's listening at all because the world outside the window is dark and cold.
By the end of the morning I've been getting my estrogen rock on... Sleater Kinney and Curve, Throwing Muses and Patti Smith. I didn't realize we have Jucifer's entire back catalog until I went to put everything away but that could've worked too.
Ended with My Bloody Valentine... six minutes of blissed-out noise. The DJ after me gave me some powdered vitamins and a bottled water because I must look like I'm not doing so good today. Got over my fear of parking garages because I don't want to fight another parking ticket. Caffeine has yet to kick in. I think I need more Ethiopian coffee.
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