Linguistic bemusement XIV

As a DJ on former smooth jazz station KNJZ, I was required to say every so often, "You're in the middle of another extended set of today's smooth jazz."

I understood the business logic behind summarizing the type of music we played and reinforcing the concept that listeners were going to hear a lot of it.  I also thought, however, "Isn't this interrupting the musical flow by reminding listeners of this, using this exact phrasing, so frequently?"

Context? CDLIX

While sweeping the floor recently, a clump of dust kept evading the broom.  My reaction fell in an odd middle ground between anger and nonchalance.  It was mild irritation masked with an improvised rhythm.  To the tune of a made-up percussive beat, I sang to the dust under my breath, "Don't do that if I don't command it.  Don't do that if I don't decree it."

This middle-of-the-road approach worked.  The dust allowed itself to be swept up, thanks to my direct admonishment--and a made-up salsa rhythm to take the edge off.

25 years later

On September 11, 2001 and the days following it, I grappled with how to split the difference between watching, reading, and listening to news coverage of that day's atrocities.  At first, to grasp the severity of the attacks, it felt necessary to watch footage of them.  After seeing the same or similar footage multiple times, however, I thought, "It's really best to turn my attention to radio and newspaper coverage now."

I still think that was the right call.  When you see the horrifying footage of the attacks and their aftermath, it's too easy to be shocked and not absorb all of the information about them.  Listening to radio coverage and reading articles forces one to process the information without the distressing visuals. 

Persistent earworm alert CDLV

While reading an article yesterday about an Appalachian singer, my mind immediately called up John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads."  That's a natural response, I think, to a song about West Virginia.  I also started stomping my foot in time to this mental soundtrack.  I didn't even realize it at first, and while writing this, the foot-stomping started again.

As much as I like "Take Me Home...," this foot-stomping is approaching Robert Klein's "I can't stop my leg" territory.  I'm fine with that, though, as this Denver hit warrants it.

Online radio sampler highlights CCCX

Six Wednesday morning standouts:

KALX (Berkeley, CA)

• Paris 1971-Suzanne Ciani (This instrumental's title puzzles me, as it conjures up images of floating in space.)
• Pollyanna-The Islanders (A simple vocals-and-piano number from 1959; this tune just aims to establish a jaunty melody, and it succeeds.)

KNTU-HD2 (Denton, TX)

• Escapatoria-Rodney Jordan (Jordan underpins this smooth, midtempo driving groove on the bass, with ample room for the rest of the ensemble, particularly trumpeter Melvin Jones, to leave their imprints.)
• Diana-Helen Sung Big Band (This fanciful rendition of a Wayne Shorter tune was released in June. Sung's keyboard playing here brings to mind Chick Corea & Return To Forever, and this track could segue with Flora Purim's "Dindi.")

WDSW (Philadelphia, MS)

• Hello Old Friend-Eric Clapton (These styles of guitar and organ playing seldom fail to draw me in.  Lyrically, this reminds me of "Lovely To See You" by The Moody Blues.  Given how upbeat this track is, I'm surprised I don't hear album rock stations play it often.)

WZRD (Chicago, IL)

• Marinier-Anne Marie Bernert (Sorrowful accordion underscoring for arduous, repetitive tasks.)

Persistent earworm alert CDLIV

Lately, I've been hearing my cell phone's default tropical melody ringtone subconsciously, even when the phone isn't ringing.  I think I'm resigned to the fact that no matter how many phone numbers I block, there will always be another spammer trying to reach me.

A petty fixation LIII

This afternoon, a radio station identification breaker played, and then---nothing.

"That's odd," I thought.  "The top-of-the-hour news isn't starting."

Then, looking at the clock, I saw that the top of the hour was still two minutes away.

After two minutes of silence, the news finally started.  In the grand scheme of things, this wasn't a big deal.  Two minutes of dead air feels like a long time, though, when it happens accidentally.