I was surprised to hear a local police department sponsor a radio station's traffic report this morning. It was even more surprising to hear the department's pitch for recruiting police officers.
Perhaps the department's need for advertising shouldn't surprise me. As a former co-worker once said, when you're an officer, and "shots ring out, your job is to run toward them."
Even if someone's qualified to be an officer, there's no denying that it's a dangerous job.
In recent months, iTunes shuffle mode has landed frequently on "Take Me To The River" by Talking Heads. It's a tribute to how well the rhythm players set the scene, as I usually listen to just the first 39 seconds before the vocals come in. All three instruments--drums, bass, and guitar--make the intro pop and announce to the listener, "You've heard Al Green's version? Here's a different, more mechanized take on the tune."
Off and on for decades, when I've driven past almost any convenience store, I've thought of the theme song for the short-lived sitcom, "Open All Night." (i.e. "This is the story of Gordon Feester, born in Ohio the day before Easter...Now, he's open all night. Open all night, Open all night...")
I watched the first episode this morning, after not seeing it since its original airing in 1981. It's refreshing that a sitcom theme could have a decent hook then; the lyrics could tell the main character's story from birth to running a convenience store, while the network expected viewers to stay with it for--Gasp!--an entire minute.
When you work at two radio stations in one day, as I did sometimes in the early '90s, you might start to say the wrong call letters on the air.
As far as I know, I only did this once. During an air check critique session at KBIA, the program director heard a break in which I said, "We now return to the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra on KC...on KBIA."
Fortunately, the p.d. took this with good humor.
"You're entitled to one of those," he told me. "During our last pledge drive, I accidentally started to say W..., which was the start of the (call letters) of another station where I'd worked."
It's refreshing when a program director accepts that we're all human.
Six standout tunes heard today:
KBFT (Nett Lake, MN)
KVMR (Nevada City, CA)
WRFI (Ithaca, NY)
WRTI (Philadelphia, PA)
Earlier this afternoon, I was stuck for inspiration. Then, my cat, Collette, pushed her dragonfly toy under the door, triggering my memory of the somewhat overlooked Fleetwood Mac track, "Dragonfly." With its moody, atmospheric guitar underpinning and vocals that create a floating sensation, it deserves--but doesn't typically get--airplay on most album rock stations. In retrospect, I should have included it in my In memory of Danny Kirwan post.
Thanks to Collette for sparking today's welcome earworm.
About 15 years ago, I saw that a radio station's website had added a studio cam tab.
I thought, "Is this for in-studio concerts or interviews?"
When I clicked on the tab, it showed the DJ in real time sitting behind the console, waiting for a song to end before he started the next one.
I still think that's unnecessary. Why does the audience need to see the DJ in the studio sitting around between songs, initialing a commercial log, taking meter readings, or preparing for the next break?
It's radio, after all. It's meant to be heard, not seen.
Sunday and Monday highlights:
WSIE 88.7 FM
KWMU 90.7 FM
KSHE 94.7 FM
K297BI 107.3 FM, a.k.a. WFUN-HD2
I haven't seen this "60 Minutes" segment since it aired originally, but I still remember it. Decades ago, "60 Minutes" did a piece on the making of a Stroh's beer commercial. It amused me to see people running alongside a plane while singing, "There's nothing like a Stroh's beer," off-key. Professional jingle singers were used in the final version as the plane takes off.
Beer--and alcohol, in general--doesn't appeal to me. Still, during mundane moments in traffic or while shopping, that jingle still comes to mind ironically. I've never equated a soaring plane with beer consumption. Presumably, though, market research must indicate that the image scores with customers.
Meanwhile, my cat, Collette, puts her own spin on the Stroh's jingle.
When choosing the music for my shifts on KCOU, I took satisfaction in coming up with sets that flowed. In the Spring of 1992, I programmed what I thought was one of my best sets of three, in this order:
I reasoned, "Why not play a song about the sunrise while the sun is rising? Then, why not segue it with a saxophone instrumental that illustrates how the current temperature feels? Once it fades out, why not segue it with vocals that command the listener's attention immediately while flowing gracefully after the melody before them?"
I wish every set I ever programmed on any radio station segued that well.
One reason why some conductors appear disgruntled: Not unlike the manager of a sports team, the conductor is expected to elicit sound musical performances from an orchestra.
When this doesn't happen to the extent it should, concertgoers may react the way my mother did in the '80s. It was the orchestra's first concert under a new conductor. He'd spent the first three weeks rehearsing only the first movement of Dvorak's eighth symphony. Then, he repeated this process with the fourth movement of that symphony, leaving insufficient time to rehearse the second and third movements of that symphony, Haydn's 88th symphony, and a Mahler piece.
Mom's verdict: "I think they had better results under the previous director."
She wasn't wrong. Pacing rehearsal time properly is critical for a conductor, especially a new conductor.
For the past week, a surprising Beatles track has infiltrated my mind. I hadn't thought of the song, "Mr. Moonlight," in years. I don't dislike it, but even as a child, I thought, "This is a Beatles song?" To me, it falls somewhere between a novelty song and an oddball folk tune that wouldn't have been out of place in the movie, "A Mighty Wind." During the organ solo, I can imagine Harry Shearer launching into his truncated "tentacles of the moon" monologue.
What a bizarre image to have in mind when trying to digest the complexities of an editorial about world affairs...
I've praised "We May Never Pass This Way Again" by Seals & Crofts in previous posts. I can't imagine ever getting tired of its sentimental look at the pleasant moments of one's life. It ends on such a graceful note, it seems wrong to slam into blistering metal guitar or anything remotely avant-garde. That's why I'm glad iTunes shuffle mode segued it with Toto's "99" today.
One wistful piano part deserves another, I believe.
Five recommended selections heard this morning:
KRCL (Salt Lake City, UT)
KUNV (Las Vegas, NV)
WQXR (Newark, NJ)
WZVN (Lowell, IN)
I don't think I've heard this radio commercial jingle since the late '80s, but it still creeps into my mind at odd times. I'll be grocery shopping, sleeping, or reading an article, and suddenly, I'll think of the jingle, "So, come to The Linen Warehouse, and make your home complete."
I've never set foot in that business, and I'm not sure if it even still exists. I remember the jingle singer having a somewhat unusual voice--not bad but distinctive. Somehow, it's the only jingle for a business of its kind to stay with me over the decades.
I'm sure I wouldn't have predicted that jingle having staying power 40 years ago, and yet...
While listening to Todd Rundgren's "A Dream Goes On Forever" recently, I wondered if any radio station has ever played Carole King's "It's Too Late" before it. Lyrically, it's a good pairing. Rundgren's lyrics suggest that it might not be too late to salvage a relationship, after all, or if it is, you can still hold on to your dreams about it.
I've been grappling with how to approach playing patriotic music this July 4. Paul Simon's "American Tune" is certainly appropriate, given how democracy is veering off course. The "Schoolhouse Rock" track, "No More Kings," would also work and is in keeping with the theme of today's widespread "no kings" protests.
After listening to Erin Bode's rendition of "Savior Of The Nations, Come," though, I'm half-considering playing it on Independence Day. While that hymn isn't a patriotic anthem, it's appropriate this year. After all, it might take divine intervention to get this country back on sane, civil footing.
Since completing my annual viewing of the movie, "1776," last night, the ominous repeating final note hasn't left my mind. Whenever I watch the film, it sinks in what a risk those who signed the Declaration Of Independence were taking.
This time, however, I also thought the movie's final note could underscore the decline and possible elimination of American democracy. I really hope that our democracy doesn't vanish. "1776"'s chilling note reminded me, however, that a positive outcome isn't necessarily a given.
While listening to Joseph Arthur's "Honey And The Moon" recently, I thought, "Has any radio station ever played Alanis Morissette's 'Hands Clean' after this? If not, they should. Both songs start off rather quietly before their energy levels increase, and the vocals in both songs grab the listener's ears. They're lyrically compatible songs, as well."
Yes, I often think in full paragraphs when it comes to musical segues.
In memory of Beach Boys co-founder Brian Wilson, these are, in my opinion, eight of the best songs he wrote, co-wrote, or arranged:
Sly & The Family Stone's record-buying fans showed commendable taste in the late '60s and early '70s. In my opinion, these are five of the group's best songs; not coincidentally, four of them were among their biggest hits:
An early '90s memory: After playing The Zawinul Syndicate's "South Africa" during KCOU's "Jazz Odyssey" program, the DJ praised the song's message, saying that we all have to live together in the same world. He said we can't live in a world where our mindset is, "I'll take half, and you take half."
That idealistic outlook is admirable. However, the way America is now, that goal has grown increasingly out of reach. I wonder when--or even if--it will ever be truly achievable.
Thanks to today's persistent earworm, I remembered to buy two items at the grocery store. While driving to the store, I sang, "Trash bags! Nexium!" Why I sang this in place of the exclamations, "Incense! Peppermints!" in Strawberry Alarm Clock's "Incense And Peppermints," I'm not sure.
I still say it beats shopping with a list, though.
While listening to an "American Top 40" countdown from December 1970 on SiriusXM recently, my brother found the stylistic clashes between songs amusing. His amusement was well-founded, considering that Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" and Perry Como's "It's Impossible" were in the same countdown that week.
With such "Never the twain shall meet" conflicts on the chart, a generation gap was inevitable.
What are the odds that I would happen to walk by the same outdoor venue twice within two years and hear two different bands performing "Psycho Killer" by Talking Heads? This happened in 2023, and it happened again last night.
Is "Psycho Killer" now a Summer concert favorite, as "Surfin' U.S.A." was decades ago?
Thursday's highlights:
Acoustic Guitar Instrumentals
Luna
Real Jazz
Women Of Rock
Yacht Rock Radio
As much as I like the energy of "Dance To The Storm" by Hothouse Flowers, I wish it wasn't on my mind now. We have had far too much stormy weather here since March--and there's more in store.
If I say much more about this, I'll start swearing and hurling heavy objects at the wall, so I'm ending today's post here.
...I played the tune on the bass with my high school jazz band, so it counts--or does it? After listening to Sammy Nestico's ballad, "Samantha," yesterday, I thought, "The saxophone carries the melody here. If I were to play the bass part out of context, it's unlikely that anyone could identify the tune. For this tune, at least, I wish I played the saxophone."
I'm still not sure if that's narcissistic--or just human.
I used the word pitchy in the post I wrote two days ago. I'm calling myself out on that because it's a grating way to describe someone playing or singing out of tune. It's concise, admittedly, but it's not really a proper word in that context. Off-key is a better linguistic choice.
When I first heard "What About Me?" by Kenny Rogers, Kim Carnes & James Ingram on the radio in 1984, I was surprised. I still think as I did then, "That's an unusual blend of voices." I was even more surprised when my high school jazz ensemble played it a few years later. If I think about it long enough, I can hear the tune's jazz instrumental adaptability. It's not the most natural fit for that genre, though.
I've never had strong feelings about either incarnation of the tune, nor do I ever hear it on the radio today, so I'm surprised by how often both renditions come to mind.