Context? LXI

An excerpt from a radio commercial got my attention today.

"You look very...satisfied with yourself," the woman in the ad said, presumably to her husband.

Something about that pause to find the right word made me wonder, "Where is this going?"  It turns out, the man in the commercial was satisfied because he'd scheduled an air conditioner tune-up--not performed it, mind you, but just scheduled it.

It might have been the right choice, but that's setting the bar for accomplishments in an interesting place.

Persistent earworm alert CLI

It's difficult to feel angry about much of anything when your internal soundtrack is the "Fraggle Rock" theme.

"Dance your cares away," indeed.

Lend or recommend?

Knowing of my penchant for music, even at an early age, a grade school gym teacher asked if she could borrow my 45 of Kool & The Gang's "Celebration."

"Or," she asked, "would you be able to tell me where I might be able to buy it?"

I recommended Record Bar at the West County Mall as a place to buy it.  I was glad she gave me that second option.  "After all," I thought, "lending her the record would mean having to trust someone."

I was a jaded cynic from an early age.

An overlooked cover tune LI

After hearing it twice on WSIE, I have to commend Maxine and Paul Hardcastle for their appealingly spacey cover of America's "A Horse With No Name."  If you like the breathy, ethereal vocals of The Cocteau Twins, Maxine's voice should appeal to you, as well.

Context? LX

Yesterday, I heard an AM radio talk show host quote from the movie, "Cocktail," to his co-host.  "Everything ends badly.  Otherwise, it wouldn't end," he said.  "What's ending?  Or, what has ended?" I wondered. 

I soon learned they were talking about divorce.

Blissful (?) ignorance

During a sportscast this morning, an AM radio talk show host announced the particulars of a cricket record that had been broken.  Once he finished, he admitted, "I didn't understand a word of what I just read."

As an American listener who has never watched a cricket match, I found his honest admission refreshing.

Remembering to sound authoritative

When you're hosting a radio show and choosing the music for it, you want to sound like a music authority.  That's why one of my favorite compliments from a listener after one of my jazz shows was, "I heard your show.  You sure sounded like you knew what you were talking about." 

Next to hearing that someone likes the music I've selected, that's one of my favorite compliments to receive. 

Not a time to rest

A student teacher in our middle orchestra got off to a good start when he told a student, "A rest in the music doesn't mean, 'Put down my instrument, stretch, yawn, and look off into space.'"

I thought, "He's right, but in the student's defense, at least she didn't just go to sleep."

Persistent earworm alert CL

It's your next to last week co-hosting a radio show.  If you're a DJ who wants to share an earworm with the masses, you make the most of the time you have left and play "Hold On" by Wilson Phillips on the air.  For good measure, you sing along with it, as I heard some DJs do semi-recently.

And, why not?  Lyrical advice about having a more positive life doesn't get much more basic.  Maybe it helped someone.  Even if it didn't, it's still one of the most well-intentioned earworms.

An overlooked cover tune L

It's rewarding to hear a strong cover tune in an unexpected context.  On KDHX this morning, I heard a guitar instrumental that made me think, "Wait a minute.  I recognize that chorus.  Is this what I think it is?  It is."

Martin Simpson released his cover of the Cat Stevens tune, "The First Cut Is The Deepest," in 1983, but today was the first time I'd heard it.  In their vocals, Cat Stevens and Sheryl Crow convey the mournful feeling that accompanies rejection.  Simpson successfully transfers that pathos entirely to the guitar, and it works just as well.

An overlooked cover tune XLIX

After hearing Richie Havens perform it at Woodstock, I'm surprised I've never heard any version of Gordon Lightfoot's "I Can't Make It Anymore" on the radio.  Havens gave Lightfoot's strong, relatable lyrics about not wanting to be in a relationship with someone any longer compelling life.  Although the faster studio version Havens recorded with strings is fine, the slower, starker version of it he sang at Woodstock is even more captivating.  I'm puzzled that I've never heard it on any noncommercial station.

Passive-aggressive day at the ballpark III

Direct yet even-tempered feedback from a listener on the phone:

Caller: I didn't like that last song you played.  It sounds too much like a funeral.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry.
Caller: That's alright.  Other people like it.

I wish more people would temper their criticism that way.

Persistent earworm alert CXLIX

The car doesn't need a new muffler, to my knowledge.  For some reason, however, a medley of Midas jingles from different eras has been stuck in my mind.

Looking back, "Nobody beats Midas.  Nobody," is an obvious, effective slogan.  I'm surprised more businesses haven't used variations of it.

It's also hard to forget the jingle, "Trust the Midas touch."  Not just any business can claim a connection to King Midas, so that was a wise choice, as well.

Impromptu balance correction

What do you do if you're performing in concert and the balance is off?  You can take the approach one Woodstock performer did and say during a song, "A little less bottom end on the guitar, please," or sing, "Turn up the guitar," as another performer did at a different concert.

While some listeners might think this compromises the moment, I'd contend that having too much or too little of an instrument in the mix or vocals that are too soft or too loud compromises things more.

"Now, your sinister local weather..."

A severe thunderstorm warning sounds all the more sinister to me when it's underscored with a dire-sounding song.  Even when the announcer said this morning's warning was cancelled, I still felt a bit ill at ease.

Such is the power of The Who's "Eminence Front."

Only in college LXIX

I was puzzled when I saw the "DO NOT PLAY" note scrawled next to "We Can Be Together" on Jefferson Airplane's "Volunteers" LP.

"What could possibly be objectionable about a song that promotes inclusiveness?" I wondered.

I listened to the song and detected something I hadn't heard previously.  I heard Grace Slick sing, "Tear down the wall, mother@&*%#$..."

Somehow, I missed that when I listened previously.  She didn't sound particularly furious when she sang it, and the word somehow floated by without my hearing it.

I played "We Can Be Together" on the air.  Life is too short to deny a good song airplay because of one profane word.  Besides, that warning note on the LP had probably been there for years.

Those jazzy Woodstock days?

Today through Sunday, many concertgoers will reminisce about their experiences at Woodstock 50 years ago.  I suspect I've spoken to at least one person, however, who won't look back fondly at that time.

At this time in 1995, I was on the air at KNJZ.  Near the end of its run, the smooth jazz station experimented with a new sound, adding album rock tracks to its playlist.  I heard from one listener on the request line who was incensed about hearing "Wooden Ships" by Crosby, Stills & Nash.

"This is supposed to be the jazz station!" he exclaimed.  "Why don't you all play some jazz?  What are you doing, playing this Crosby, Stills & Nash?!  I'm not no hippie!"

As much as I like Crosby, Stills & Nash and the message about war's consequences in "Wooden Ships," I couldn't argue with the caller.  When you bill yourself as a smooth jazz station, "Wooden Ships" and Crosby, Stills & Nash don't fit that description.

Maybe if we'd billed ourselves as "smooth jazz--and more..."

"Industry titan or serf? Please check one."

It used to annoy me slightly that in order to subscribe to Billboard magazine, you had to indicate your primary industry function from a list of music and radio occupations on a reply card.  I thought, "What difference does a person's job make as long as (s)he can pay for the subscription?  Granted, I'm in grade school, don't have a job, and can't afford a subscription, but still, why does this matter?  I'm interested in reading the music charts and columns.  Is there a pecking order here?  Do record company executives receive their issues a day or two ahead of those in other professions?"

Then, I looked closer and saw there was a box one could check for "music fans and audiophiles."

I still couldn't afford a subscription, but I was slightly less miffed.

Online radio sampler highlights XCVI

Six late night standouts:

KDEC (Decorah, IA)

• Things Will Change-Treetop Flyers (It always impresses me when any artist or group frames downcast or turbulent lyrics within a pleasant, breezy, uptempo melody.  That's the case here in the guitar and vocals; this tune would have fit in on a soft rock station in the early to mid '70s.)

KESD (Brookings, SD)

• Opus One-Verve Jazz Ensemble (A faithful rendering of the Sy Oliver big band classic.  There's a general consistency to this group's covers, so if you haven't heard them, you can start with any of their albums.  Also recommended: "Sister Sadie.")
• Triste-Dave Zinno Unisphere (A brassy, expansive cover of the Antonio Carlos Jobim tune, with plenty of room for each band member to solo.  Also recommended: Kenny Barron's rendition, with its great, self-assured piano intro.)

KUWR (Laramie, WY)

• Joseph V. Williams II: Isabel (Cavatina Duo) (This stark, serious piece for guitar and flute wouldn't be out of place in a new age playlist.) 

WMUH (Allentown, PA)

• The Rain, The Park & Other Things-The Cowsills (There's a comforting idealistic vibe in this prototypical 1967 hit.  One quibble: To help listeners find the tune, the band should have drawn from the lyrics and called the tune "I Love The Flower Girl" or "(She Could Make Me) Happy.")
• Walk On By-Isaac Hayes (There have been many covers of "Walk On By," but Hayes conveys the feeling of being shattered especially convincingly.)

Persistent earworm alert CXLVIII

I was surprised to read that "The Cisco Kid" was War's biggest hit.  Lyrically, vocally, and instrumentally, it wasn't a typical pop hit, even in the relatively diverse pop scene of 1973.  The song's hook, however, is undeniably memorable.  Those four descending notes after the lyric, "The Cisco Kid was a friend of mine," snuck into my mind this morning--and still haven't left.

I won't complain, though.  There are far more vexing earworms, and I like to think I have some sense of perspective.

Passive-aggressive day at the ballpark II

If you ask enough people to sign your high school yearbook, you'll eventually get at least one passive-aggressive signature.  You have to wonder when a fellow musician hopes you "break every bone in your body and can never play the bass again.  Just kidding..."

I didn't confront the person who wrote that.  I still wonder about the motivation behind the hostility, though.

A linguistic irritant XII

I've never cared for the term, "ricky-ticky."  In my view, it's a silly-sounding way to describe something archaic.  I can think of only one time that description hasn't irked me.  A program director advised the DJs at a station where I worked to "keep the Dixieland jazz to a minimum" because she didn't want the station to sound "ancient and 'ricky-ticky.'"

In that case, the term worked, partially because of the quotation marks.  In nearly every other case, however...

Persistent earworm alert CXLVII

Recently, I praised the Liberty Mutual jingle. I'll admit, however, that tonight's persistent earworm is a close second among insurance commercial jingles that stay with me and that I don't mind.  You know where I'm going with this, right?  If not, here goes:

"We are Farmers.  Bum, ba, dum, bum, bum-bum-bum."

You're welcome--or, Sorry, depending on your point of view.

An overlooked cover tune XLVIII

I've praised the precision The Manhattan Transfer pulled off in its vocal rendition of Woody Herman's "Four Brothers" previously.  In fact, after watching them perform it on "The Old Grey Whistle Test," I wonder why the audience's applause isn't at least five times more effusive.

There's a lesser known instrumental rendition of the tune, however, that audiences should also appreciate.  The entire range of covers on the tribute album to departed St. Louis bassist Jerry Cherry, "Up Cherry Street," is excellent.  "Four Brothers" stands out for Herb Drury's jaunty approach to the tune on the piano and Cherry's more-than-able support on bass.

It's not easy to sing fast lyrics with just the right mix of enthusiasm and enunciation.  The Manhattan Transfer nails that balance in "Four Brothers," and Cherry and Drury replicate that spirit instrumentally in their cover.

"Hail, fellow music snob!"

Whenever I see someone driving whose car contains one or more bumper stickers for record stores with wide selections, such as Vintage Vinyl or Record Exchange, my impression of the person goes up a notch.  Yes, they're strangers to me.  Also, they might be blocking traffic, taking three days to place a drive through order, or driving maniacally, but at least they have the good sense to appreciate an original pressing of a Ray Charles LP.

That should count for something.

Trivial Fixation Day At The Ballpark

Today, I listened to a song on a cassette.  I gnashed my teeth and my blood pressure started to rise, however, when it took all of six attempts to fast forward to the start of the tune.  I don't know how I ever tolerated this in bygone decades.

I think I'm going to take a nap.  After all, I need to put a letter in an envelope, put a stamp on it, and then drive a whopping three-tenths of a mile to mail it.

Obviously, I need to be rested for that.

Repetition for emphasis II

I've written before about my high school orchestra director's habit of repeating statements for emphasis.  This also applied to his equivalent of swearing.  He never cursed in front of his students.  You could tell he was upset or disappointed, however, when he said, "Sugar.  Sugar," or "Son of a biscuit.  Son of a biscuit..."

I've never heard anyone else use those words as substitutes for profanity, but they work.  Mr. D.'s gravely serious repetition of them made them stand out even more.

Persistent earworm alert CXLVI

Of all the persistent earworms that have stayed in my mind lately, Janet Jackson's "Rhythm Nation" is the most propulsive.  If you don't have an energy drink nearby, the tune should get you moving just as easily.

A good retro back-to-school tune

When school is about to begin, what's a transitional song that acknowledges the fun of Summer and the reality of the upcoming Autumn?  "Footprints" by Squeeze.  Even though I'm long removed from being a student, that song comes to mind in August or September every year--although the "footprints in the frost" line worked better when school began the day after Labor Day here years ago instead of mid August, as it does now.

Those computer monitor blues

While at work recently, my computer monitor started turning an increasingly dark shade of blue.  The thoughts I had, in order:

• "That's a nice tribute to Joni Mitchell's album, 'Blue.'  The blue tint of the screen reminds me of that album's cover."
• "The computer must be depressed, considering its deeper blue tint and the moving dirge it just played on the harmonica."
• "I should switch work stations for the rest of today.  It's getting increasingly difficult to see or type anything on this computer."

Clearly, my priorities were where they should have been.

Seach engine trivia time

Do radio stations that have trivia contests on-air at least acknowledge how much easier it is to look things up today?  Does any announcer ever say, "That's the question.  The first person to Google the answer and call or text us wins the prize?"