Halloween approaches, with barely enough time to dig up the candy corn, which you use to keep away moths in your closet, to give to the unsuspecting kids who will never know nor experience the great Halloweens of our childhood, with the cool razors in the apples & the glass in the chocolate. Ah, Mr. Evans from down the way. How were we to know he was part of the team that invented LSD? He made our Halloweens truly a trick and a treat.
Too bad he had to die in prison.
Speaking of monsters, my Halloween show this year will be all about those lovable, misunderstood killing machines who range from the smallish - think Gremlins - to the famous human-sized-ish - think Frankenstein's monster - to the largish - think Mothra. In addition, I plan to play songs in which we describe others as "monsters," usually because they treat us mean. Like that woman you broke up with - she took your heart & threw it in the lake!
Ideally, I'd love songs about the crazy sort of monsters that Jack Kirby drew for Marvel Comics in the late 50s/early 60s. Like Gruto. Or Monstrollo. Or Fin Fang Foom. But chances are no musician is hip enough to write songs about those kinds of monsters.
(By the way, all those links above are from a very cool site called Monster Blog. I am in love.)
If you have idears for monster songs, do please start throwing them at me, either here on the blog, or mailing them to me. Halloween is about a month away! I want to be armed with all the coolest, deadliest, goofiest, stinkiest monsters I can find.
Thank you.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Whither Sleepy?
Why, in the name of all that's wakeful, would I want to do a show about being sleepy? (This is the sort of argument I have in my head all the time.) (I lose those arguments more than I win them.) (Which doesn't say a whole lot about my sense of self.) (I get a little carried away when I use parentheses for asides.) I mean, for Peter & Paul's sake, isn't my show on a Friday afternoon? Aren't people getting ready for a long, conscious, alert, drug-filled weekend? Why would anyone coming home from work after an exhausting week want to listen to songs about being sleepy?
Very good questions from my head. I have no very good answers. My show ideas come to me like spitballs from my enemies in 7th grade. (You guys know who you are.) I let them smack me in the head & sometimes they stick. A few weeks ago, while sitting at work & being astonishingly groggy for no good reason, I thought to myself, "What is this thing called tiredness? Do people really write songs about it?"
Sleepy can happen when you've just awoken or for a while before you go to sleep. But sleepy seems so innocuous compared to tired - tired is what you are after a long meeting, or after mowing your lawn, or after a conversation with your significant other about "where this relationship is going." Tired is sleepy times ten, & sometimes can't be helped with sleep. Sometimes a pint of whiskey will drive tired down to sleepy. But tired is nothing compared to exhausted.
Exhausted is one of those words that sounds like it feels. Exhaustion makes you thinks of the exhaust that comes out of tailpipes - you're so exhausted, you might have just been broken down to your component chemicals in a hot, nasty internal combustion engine & all that's left is the smokey, polluting haze of what you once were. Exhaustion isn't cured by sleep, but by your body completely, utterly shutting itself down. Exhaustion makes you put yourself into a coma. Hell, when I'm exhausted, tired seems like a vacation in San Francisco.
Of course, there's good exhaustion, when you choose to push yourself to your limit, or when you're having too good a time dancing to care about your fuel gauge. But even then - exhaustion > tired > sleepy (the > means "greater than" here, you algebra dropout), with each "greater than" an exponential factor rather than a geometric gradient.
Don't those words just make you want to nap? Sleepy, tired, exhausted. Whew.
I can promise you, however, that Friday's show will be full of information & energy, not a show celebrating the state of sleepiness but a wide-awake examination from an afternoon point of view. So don't be afraid my show will put you to sleep - any more than normal, that is - but instead tune in to find out, musically & in my airbreaks, what this sleepy feeling is all about. Hopefully it'll give you a virtual rest so you'll be able to stay up later for the weekend.
Very good questions from my head. I have no very good answers. My show ideas come to me like spitballs from my enemies in 7th grade. (You guys know who you are.) I let them smack me in the head & sometimes they stick. A few weeks ago, while sitting at work & being astonishingly groggy for no good reason, I thought to myself, "What is this thing called tiredness? Do people really write songs about it?"
Sleepy can happen when you've just awoken or for a while before you go to sleep. But sleepy seems so innocuous compared to tired - tired is what you are after a long meeting, or after mowing your lawn, or after a conversation with your significant other about "where this relationship is going." Tired is sleepy times ten, & sometimes can't be helped with sleep. Sometimes a pint of whiskey will drive tired down to sleepy. But tired is nothing compared to exhausted.
Exhausted is one of those words that sounds like it feels. Exhaustion makes you thinks of the exhaust that comes out of tailpipes - you're so exhausted, you might have just been broken down to your component chemicals in a hot, nasty internal combustion engine & all that's left is the smokey, polluting haze of what you once were. Exhaustion isn't cured by sleep, but by your body completely, utterly shutting itself down. Exhaustion makes you put yourself into a coma. Hell, when I'm exhausted, tired seems like a vacation in San Francisco.
Of course, there's good exhaustion, when you choose to push yourself to your limit, or when you're having too good a time dancing to care about your fuel gauge. But even then - exhaustion > tired > sleepy (the > means "greater than" here, you algebra dropout), with each "greater than" an exponential factor rather than a geometric gradient.
Don't those words just make you want to nap? Sleepy, tired, exhausted. Whew.
I can promise you, however, that Friday's show will be full of information & energy, not a show celebrating the state of sleepiness but a wide-awake examination from an afternoon point of view. So don't be afraid my show will put you to sleep - any more than normal, that is - but instead tune in to find out, musically & in my airbreaks, what this sleepy feeling is all about. Hopefully it'll give you a virtual rest so you'll be able to stay up later for the weekend.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Preface to Sleepy: Am I Boring You?
We spend our days, for whatever reason, in a perpetual state between moderate alertness (you never know when the boss is going to be coming around the corner) & a half-doze. I myself am tired more often than not, & am usually only not tired when I am distracted. Why is that? Are we not engaged enough in our jobs, our lives? Do we simply not get enough sleep? & what is enough sleep? Is there too much sleep? Does that make us sleepy?
Sleepy as a physical condition was first identified by the great Egyptian/Greek scholar Lethargicos after what many archaeologists consider the first sleep study (& what many naughty sociologists consider the first sleep over) during "scroll rebinding night" at the great Library of Alexandria in the second century AD. Or CE. Whatever. While spending a long day dusting & tightly wrapping the library's immense collection of scrolls, Lethargicos noticed that many of the volunteers for the project yawned, nodded off, chewed an extraordinary amount of betel leaves, &, on one interesting occasion, one particular volunteer, who was covering his eyes while closely examining one apparently engaging papyrus scroll, actually fell face-first into the pages, smearing drool everywhere.
Lethargicos decided to try to quantify his observations by keeping the workers around as long as possible, thereby beginning the long-standing social scientist tradition of ordering out for pizza to prolong a study. He asked increasingly surreptitious questions about the mental state of his subjects, from the obvious "Did you get enough sleep last night?" & "Are you simply bored by this?" to such trickery as "Do you think adding more ostrich feathers to my bed will make it softer & comfier?" & stretching his arms out & emitting a long, drawn-out, overwrought yawn.
Though his landmark study, "Oh My Drowsy Colleagues" was lost in the great fire that destroyed the library some centuries later, his work was carried on by the Arabic scholar Hassin Al-Somnol, who was the first scientist to categorize the seventeen stages from wakefulness to sleep. As children, we learned them by heart in elementary school, but it surprises many westerners that they weren't, after all, invented by the British in the 18th century as crucial elements of the new "novel" form, but instead the result of a lifetime of scientific rigor & toil by Al-Somnol & his team at the Moroccan Sleep Number Center. Al-Somnol could be a stern taskmaster, especially when a subject fell asleep too quickly, without properly noting the stages; testees who failed to follow protocol were often engaged in what sociologists now call "pillow fights."
His landmark work, "Sleepiness & The Modern Moor," found its way to Medieval Europe & was Christianized so as not to draw attention to it. Despite references to it in Dante, Boccaccio, Chaucer, Cervantes & the forgotten Scottish poet Fred Hirmsch, it took several centuries (& a bitter dispute between Isaac Newton & Samuel Pepys) to thrust it into the English limelight. British people found themselves utterly exhausted by all the annoying posturing going around, & it became amusing to refer to royals, politicians & military men by the level of tiredness they aroused in the populace. Thus, though he thought it a worthy epithet, "Stupefying" John Locke was actually being made fun of by the people of England.
In our modern world, computers enable us to monitor our state of sleepiness, usually with downloaded porn &/or annoying screen savers. Yet many researchers think that the human being's ability to function in a kind of zombie-like state between actual repose & willful alertness remains a mystery, & studies are planned well into the 21st century, much of it involving television & recordings by Yanni. So the questions asked at the beginning of this essay are certainly as fresh & unanswered as they were to the ancients.
Perhaps this Friday, you can find illumination on Self Help Radio.
& if you're interested, last Friday's show is now available to listen to at the Self Help Radio web site.
Sleepy as a physical condition was first identified by the great Egyptian/Greek scholar Lethargicos after what many archaeologists consider the first sleep study (& what many naughty sociologists consider the first sleep over) during "scroll rebinding night" at the great Library of Alexandria in the second century AD. Or CE. Whatever. While spending a long day dusting & tightly wrapping the library's immense collection of scrolls, Lethargicos noticed that many of the volunteers for the project yawned, nodded off, chewed an extraordinary amount of betel leaves, &, on one interesting occasion, one particular volunteer, who was covering his eyes while closely examining one apparently engaging papyrus scroll, actually fell face-first into the pages, smearing drool everywhere.
Lethargicos decided to try to quantify his observations by keeping the workers around as long as possible, thereby beginning the long-standing social scientist tradition of ordering out for pizza to prolong a study. He asked increasingly surreptitious questions about the mental state of his subjects, from the obvious "Did you get enough sleep last night?" & "Are you simply bored by this?" to such trickery as "Do you think adding more ostrich feathers to my bed will make it softer & comfier?" & stretching his arms out & emitting a long, drawn-out, overwrought yawn.
Though his landmark study, "Oh My Drowsy Colleagues" was lost in the great fire that destroyed the library some centuries later, his work was carried on by the Arabic scholar Hassin Al-Somnol, who was the first scientist to categorize the seventeen stages from wakefulness to sleep. As children, we learned them by heart in elementary school, but it surprises many westerners that they weren't, after all, invented by the British in the 18th century as crucial elements of the new "novel" form, but instead the result of a lifetime of scientific rigor & toil by Al-Somnol & his team at the Moroccan Sleep Number Center. Al-Somnol could be a stern taskmaster, especially when a subject fell asleep too quickly, without properly noting the stages; testees who failed to follow protocol were often engaged in what sociologists now call "pillow fights."
His landmark work, "Sleepiness & The Modern Moor," found its way to Medieval Europe & was Christianized so as not to draw attention to it. Despite references to it in Dante, Boccaccio, Chaucer, Cervantes & the forgotten Scottish poet Fred Hirmsch, it took several centuries (& a bitter dispute between Isaac Newton & Samuel Pepys) to thrust it into the English limelight. British people found themselves utterly exhausted by all the annoying posturing going around, & it became amusing to refer to royals, politicians & military men by the level of tiredness they aroused in the populace. Thus, though he thought it a worthy epithet, "Stupefying" John Locke was actually being made fun of by the people of England.
In our modern world, computers enable us to monitor our state of sleepiness, usually with downloaded porn &/or annoying screen savers. Yet many researchers think that the human being's ability to function in a kind of zombie-like state between actual repose & willful alertness remains a mystery, & studies are planned well into the 21st century, much of it involving television & recordings by Yanni. So the questions asked at the beginning of this essay are certainly as fresh & unanswered as they were to the ancients.
Perhaps this Friday, you can find illumination on Self Help Radio.
& if you're interested, last Friday's show is now available to listen to at the Self Help Radio web site.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Yellow Haiku Wrap-Up
I just got a strange email from a strange young lady who (not so strangely) likes Self Help Radio, & in particular has a fondness for the haiku. In case you haven't heard the show (& if so, why are you reading this?) (not to be a freak about it or anything), I read listener-submitted haikus at the end of each show, & there's more info about the haiku submission process over on http://www.selfhelpradio.net/haiku.html.
This email I just received, though, basically said this (I shall paraphrase): You just started doing this blog, dude, so why don't post haiku there? Sometimes you read them too fast! Sometimes I'm like late & miss a couple! Take advantage of the web, man. Post haiku!
So I shall. However, I won't post the writers' full names, as I do on the air, just because. If they want to google themselves, they need to do what I do: make my own web pages.
So, without any further folderol, are the winners of last Friday's Self Help Radio Yellow Haiku contest. I print them from the fourth place winner, up, although I got a last minute haiku right before the contest, so I gave it an Honorable Mention. It comes first:
Honorable Mention: David's haiku
Cowardly faded
The color of piss & pus
It's my favorite
Now, the winners:
FOURTH PLACE: George
Hey! I ain’t yella!
I could beat up all o’ y’all!
I just ain’t gonna.
THIRD PLACE: Amber
Jaundice is my skin
Wet yellow are my sclera
Hepatitis B
SECOND PLACE; Mario
I will fall in love
With she whose eyes are yellow
As Data’s eyes are
FIRST PLACE: Florida
Yellow helps me breathe
& to photosynthesize
I’m a sunflower.
I'll try to make this a regular feature on this blog, if I can remember & when I'm not ashamed of your haiku submissions.
This email I just received, though, basically said this (I shall paraphrase): You just started doing this blog, dude, so why don't post haiku there? Sometimes you read them too fast! Sometimes I'm like late & miss a couple! Take advantage of the web, man. Post haiku!
So I shall. However, I won't post the writers' full names, as I do on the air, just because. If they want to google themselves, they need to do what I do: make my own web pages.
So, without any further folderol, are the winners of last Friday's Self Help Radio Yellow Haiku contest. I print them from the fourth place winner, up, although I got a last minute haiku right before the contest, so I gave it an Honorable Mention. It comes first:
Honorable Mention: David's haiku
Cowardly faded
The color of piss & pus
It's my favorite
Now, the winners:
FOURTH PLACE: George
Hey! I ain’t yella!
I could beat up all o’ y’all!
I just ain’t gonna.
THIRD PLACE: Amber
Jaundice is my skin
Wet yellow are my sclera
Hepatitis B
SECOND PLACE; Mario
I will fall in love
With she whose eyes are yellow
As Data’s eyes are
FIRST PLACE: Florida
Yellow helps me breathe
& to photosynthesize
I’m a sunflower.
I'll try to make this a regular feature on this blog, if I can remember & when I'm not ashamed of your haiku submissions.
Friday, September 22, 2006
If Life Weren't Already Yellow Enough...
In less than two hours, Self Help Radio goes all yellow. But it don't mean I'm afeared of ya! Because yellow is the color of Emperors in China. It's the color of all kinds of penalties in sports. & it's the color of safety vehicles, since it's widely believed that yellow is the color most easily seen from a distance.
(But also, I'll admit, I am a coward.)
I'm pleased to say the show will have unique contributions from local Austin crackpot & part-time butler CJ Buchanan as well as a lovely cover of a Tahiti 80 song by Dallas Renaissance Woman Tania Ion - which was recorded today (how does she do it?). As well, I steal a "Yellow" song from a CD by a former Self Help Radio guest of honor, Laura Freeman. If she notices it missing, I will take back what I said about her fixation with the color teal.
There will be much music, much discussion of things yellowy, & of course haikus. I hope you'll listen.
(But also, I'll admit, I am a coward.)
I'm pleased to say the show will have unique contributions from local Austin crackpot & part-time butler CJ Buchanan as well as a lovely cover of a Tahiti 80 song by Dallas Renaissance Woman Tania Ion - which was recorded today (how does she do it?). As well, I steal a "Yellow" song from a CD by a former Self Help Radio guest of honor, Laura Freeman. If she notices it missing, I will take back what I said about her fixation with the color teal.
There will be much music, much discussion of things yellowy, & of course haikus. I hope you'll listen.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Telling The Future
I apologize for not blogging today - yesterday - Thursday. It was a busy day for work & for KOOP, which is a mostly all-volunteer organization & with which I am intimately involved. I'm not just some dork with a crazy fabulous radio show, I am a dork with a crazy fabulous radio show who is deeply devoted to the idea of cooperatively-run community radio. Maybe I'll talk more about KOOP hereabouts some time, but the idea here is to talk here about the crazy fabulous radio show which I do. You know, the one where modesty takes a backseat to hyperbole.
I'd like to let you know up & coming themes, & I confess I try to think of them (or be inspired by the Muse of the Moment, who is a perverse little bastard) weeks in advance, so that I can ruminate & gather & take input from you, listener, reader, if you so choose. Mainly because I am insecure & always feel I'm going to forget something sometime somewhere. & I always do.
So here's what's coming up after we tackle the difficult subject of the color yellow tomorrow - today - Friday. The two shows following the next one are what we in the noncommercial radio world call "Membership Drive Shows." This means a chance for listeners to show support for the sort of radio that is built from the guts & brains of the programmers, not the computerized corporate decisions made by a dude in Los Angeles who really needs to recoup the money his label put into Mariah Carey's new record. You can contribute to KOOP any time by going to the KOOP home page & becoming a member with a financial gift. It's money we sorely need, & maybe if enough of you help us & stop paying the corporations, we might not ever have to hear another new record from Mariah Carey.
I'll do more of the begging here later, so bear with me. Remember, this money ain't for me; it's for an idea made audible, free speech as pure as possible in the loud "global economy" run by five or six megacorporations. But I wanted to talk about the future themes... So here they are.
Next week, to underscore my natural state, & to give everyone a rest before the Membership Drive starts, I'll be playing songs about being sleepy, drowsy, tired. Hopefully it'll be at least little peppy, or you might crash your car trying to suppress a yawn.
Then, on October 6th, my first Membership Drive show will be a tribute to the Velvet Underground. I am collecting my favorite covers of the esteemed band to show their immense influence, as well as a song or two about them.
On October 13th, I am going to indulge my love of cobbled together music by presenting a wholly incomplete Brief History Of Sampling. I love songs with goofy sound clips & snatched dialogue. They make me happy. I hope they affect you the same way.
On the 20th, I will be celebrating the fourth anniversary of the month I started Self Help Radio with a theme revisited - sort of. My first show, before I even had a name for the show, was on a Friday, so I played an hour of songs about Friday. Except. I wasn't prepared enough to have enough songs about Friday, so I cheated & played a few songs about the weekend. The show will therefore celebrate the weekend. As an idea. As a place of respite. As a place for drinking, loving & resting.
On the 27th, I will make & play my annual Halloween show, which a special emphasis on "monsters" - human & otherwise - from Frankenstein to the baddies in Greek myth, to the monstrous people who terrorize our real lives. If you know a good song about a Gorgon or about Mothra, point me in that direction please!
Tomorrow - today - later on today - Friday - I'll hopefully speak a little more about what you'll hear on the show at 4:30pm. But that's for tomorrow. I should go to bed, & try to dream of songs to fill the themes I have above.
I'd like to let you know up & coming themes, & I confess I try to think of them (or be inspired by the Muse of the Moment, who is a perverse little bastard) weeks in advance, so that I can ruminate & gather & take input from you, listener, reader, if you so choose. Mainly because I am insecure & always feel I'm going to forget something sometime somewhere. & I always do.
So here's what's coming up after we tackle the difficult subject of the color yellow tomorrow - today - Friday. The two shows following the next one are what we in the noncommercial radio world call "Membership Drive Shows." This means a chance for listeners to show support for the sort of radio that is built from the guts & brains of the programmers, not the computerized corporate decisions made by a dude in Los Angeles who really needs to recoup the money his label put into Mariah Carey's new record. You can contribute to KOOP any time by going to the KOOP home page & becoming a member with a financial gift. It's money we sorely need, & maybe if enough of you help us & stop paying the corporations, we might not ever have to hear another new record from Mariah Carey.
I'll do more of the begging here later, so bear with me. Remember, this money ain't for me; it's for an idea made audible, free speech as pure as possible in the loud "global economy" run by five or six megacorporations. But I wanted to talk about the future themes... So here they are.
Next week, to underscore my natural state, & to give everyone a rest before the Membership Drive starts, I'll be playing songs about being sleepy, drowsy, tired. Hopefully it'll be at least little peppy, or you might crash your car trying to suppress a yawn.
Then, on October 6th, my first Membership Drive show will be a tribute to the Velvet Underground. I am collecting my favorite covers of the esteemed band to show their immense influence, as well as a song or two about them.
On October 13th, I am going to indulge my love of cobbled together music by presenting a wholly incomplete Brief History Of Sampling. I love songs with goofy sound clips & snatched dialogue. They make me happy. I hope they affect you the same way.
On the 20th, I will be celebrating the fourth anniversary of the month I started Self Help Radio with a theme revisited - sort of. My first show, before I even had a name for the show, was on a Friday, so I played an hour of songs about Friday. Except. I wasn't prepared enough to have enough songs about Friday, so I cheated & played a few songs about the weekend. The show will therefore celebrate the weekend. As an idea. As a place of respite. As a place for drinking, loving & resting.
On the 27th, I will make & play my annual Halloween show, which a special emphasis on "monsters" - human & otherwise - from Frankenstein to the baddies in Greek myth, to the monstrous people who terrorize our real lives. If you know a good song about a Gorgon or about Mothra, point me in that direction please!
Tomorrow - today - later on today - Friday - I'll hopefully speak a little more about what you'll hear on the show at 4:30pm. But that's for tomorrow. I should go to bed, & try to dream of songs to fill the themes I have above.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Whither Yellow?
This week's show will feature songs about the color yellow, as well as songs about yellow things. Unfortunately, no one has written a song (that I am aware of) about yellow burnies, yellow discipline, yellow coffee makers, or the Yellow Sea, but we'll have all other improbably yellow things. Trust me.
But why yellow? It hardly seems the season! Why such a springtime color as summer ends? Because I am not moved, sir, by the vagaries of seasonal fashion. I live in Austin, Texas, sir, where we are lucky to have two seasons: "summer" & "thank God it's not summer." The vegetative world is equally confused - the two trees in my backyard have been losing leaves all summer long.
No, I answer to a completely different muse. The Muse of the Moment. (Which was also, I believe, a totally rad metal song by 80's superstars Asia.) A Muse that has no problem with kneecapping me when I least expect it (which makes this Muse a little like my high school Algebra teacher). So.
I was indulging myself in the wonderful world of song-poems a few weeks back - & if you don't know what song-poems are, you may certainly find out at the American Song Poem Music Archives - although they apparently don't host mp3s there anymore - &, like with brilliant poetry & strange bumps on your skin, I always find something new & strange & wonderful when I revisit song-poems. This time, it was a weird recitation of yellow things called, aptly enough, "I Like Yellow Things."
(You can find the mp3 for this down the page here, if you want a preview before Friday.)
I was interested in all the yellow things the singer Bobbi Blake lists, & then thought, "What other songs are about yellow things?" In particular, I decided that, despite being able to round up a multitude of songs about lemons or the sun or traffic lights, I'd focus on the weirder, more poetical stuff - yellow as descriptive metaphor rather than a list of yellow stuff (like I did here yesterday).
So Friday, you'll hear songs about yellow brick roads (with different permutations), as well as yellow rainbows (what?), yellow guns (hunh?!), & maybe even yellow forests (eh?!?). I'll concede some obvious ones - the sun, taxis, the obligatory submarine - but mainly I am looking for the counterintuitive yellow. Hopefully I will succeed.
As always, you can email me with requests for yellow songs. (& no, I won't play that annoying Coldplay song, sorry). & even if you can't think of a yellow song, how about putting your pencap where your brain is & writing a haiku?
Is this over? Can I take a day without talking about the color yellow? Good.
But why yellow? It hardly seems the season! Why such a springtime color as summer ends? Because I am not moved, sir, by the vagaries of seasonal fashion. I live in Austin, Texas, sir, where we are lucky to have two seasons: "summer" & "thank God it's not summer." The vegetative world is equally confused - the two trees in my backyard have been losing leaves all summer long.
No, I answer to a completely different muse. The Muse of the Moment. (Which was also, I believe, a totally rad metal song by 80's superstars Asia.) A Muse that has no problem with kneecapping me when I least expect it (which makes this Muse a little like my high school Algebra teacher). So.
I was indulging myself in the wonderful world of song-poems a few weeks back - & if you don't know what song-poems are, you may certainly find out at the American Song Poem Music Archives - although they apparently don't host mp3s there anymore - &, like with brilliant poetry & strange bumps on your skin, I always find something new & strange & wonderful when I revisit song-poems. This time, it was a weird recitation of yellow things called, aptly enough, "I Like Yellow Things."
(You can find the mp3 for this down the page here, if you want a preview before Friday.)
I was interested in all the yellow things the singer Bobbi Blake lists, & then thought, "What other songs are about yellow things?" In particular, I decided that, despite being able to round up a multitude of songs about lemons or the sun or traffic lights, I'd focus on the weirder, more poetical stuff - yellow as descriptive metaphor rather than a list of yellow stuff (like I did here yesterday).
So Friday, you'll hear songs about yellow brick roads (with different permutations), as well as yellow rainbows (what?), yellow guns (hunh?!), & maybe even yellow forests (eh?!?). I'll concede some obvious ones - the sun, taxis, the obligatory submarine - but mainly I am looking for the counterintuitive yellow. Hopefully I will succeed.
As always, you can email me with requests for yellow songs. (& no, I won't play that annoying Coldplay song, sorry). & even if you can't think of a yellow song, how about putting your pencap where your brain is & writing a haiku?
Is this over? Can I take a day without talking about the color yellow? Good.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Preface to yellow: what's the difference between gangrene & jaundice?
Quick! Think of twenty yellow things!
Pie crust. Cheese. Number 2 pencils. Post-it notes. The W on Wonder Woman's bodice. The outermost light of something on fire. Sickly apples. Highlighters. That long line down the coward's back in old cartoons. Betty Cooper's hair. My voter registration card. Sickly sweet soda pop. Nancy Drew book spines. Day-old pus. The light that's supposed to mean "slow" but really means "speed up." Corn (boring). Corns (you mean, like on your feet? better). Sickly people. Middle-aged, middle-of-the-road stars like our sun. &, er, Yellow No. 5.
The color yellow is, of course, the next-stinkiest color on the spectrum, after brown, & not including black, which is not a color but the absence of color (duh). When asked why white, which is all colors to all people (including color-blind people), is not as stinky as two of the stinky colors that make it up, white has been known to respond by pointing out that red, blue & purple are very sweet smelling colors & cancel the stinkiness of brown & yellow. Red & blue, as well, are colors that grow to enormous sizes, while yellow in particular can be a strangely runty color. It takes billions of yellow to make sunlight, for example, while a comparatively small amount of blue can make an entire sky. & the entire amount of blood in any animal's body (once exsanguinated, of course) is usually only one or two red.
Yellow was most probably invented shortly after an organ that did something somewhat different was conscripted by natural selection into being an eye. Even if that eye originally didn't see colors, yellow was pretty much in the bag & would only suffer a real crisis in its long existence when forced to deal with the Fauvists in the late 19th century. It took a mean-spirited old bruiser the likes of Piet Mondrian to restore yellow's good name just in time for it to be used for warning signs & fruity alcohol beverages designed to get sorority girls drunk.
I myself first met the color yellow when, in the early 1970s, I visited a schoolmate's house & saw my first color TV. I don't remember what was on, but I did take with me a sense of the grayness of my seven-year-old life & the need to pay a little more attention to the outside world. A group of angry sunflowers assaulted me on the way home, but their bellicose petulance did little to move me, since it wasn't long before I retreated into my own head again & yellow became just another word, like bellow, hello, mellow, cello, & Ernest & Julio Gallo (an early experiment in near rhyme) which I could use to help finish my first epic poem, "This Gary person is a really fine fellow." (It's still unpublished, although it may be ironic to note that the manuscript has yellowed with age.)
Yellow, being yellow, can't be said to have "yellowed," since that would be like saying "black has blackened" or "blue has the blues" (er, something like that), & I must admit, it's doing very well for its age. While a little disconcerted about what it calls "the upstarts" (especially infrared light, which really ticks yellow off), it's glad it has a place in everyone's life, every if it's mainly in advertisements & the aforementioned warning signs. (Yellow admits to being very fond of the signs that indicate an upcoming road crosses a railroad track. "That blows my mind!" says yellow.)
Yellow warns us, as Self Help Radio plans a "yellow show" this Friday, to not dwell on the negative - yellow as cowardice, yellow as urine, yellow as synonym for sensational journalism - but to concentrate on the good stuff - yellow in lemonade (which will cause copious urination), yellow in sunlight (which can cause skin cancer, lack of ozone layer permitting), yellow in good-for-you fruits & vegetables (now genetically altered so the yellow gleams like the hood of a car).
So Self Help Radio shall not. Because, despite some qualms about the color yellow - mainly its stinkiness - Self Help Radio is celebrating yellow this Friday.
& tomorrow I'll tell you why.
Pie crust. Cheese. Number 2 pencils. Post-it notes. The W on Wonder Woman's bodice. The outermost light of something on fire. Sickly apples. Highlighters. That long line down the coward's back in old cartoons. Betty Cooper's hair. My voter registration card. Sickly sweet soda pop. Nancy Drew book spines. Day-old pus. The light that's supposed to mean "slow" but really means "speed up." Corn (boring). Corns (you mean, like on your feet? better). Sickly people. Middle-aged, middle-of-the-road stars like our sun. &, er, Yellow No. 5.
The color yellow is, of course, the next-stinkiest color on the spectrum, after brown, & not including black, which is not a color but the absence of color (duh). When asked why white, which is all colors to all people (including color-blind people), is not as stinky as two of the stinky colors that make it up, white has been known to respond by pointing out that red, blue & purple are very sweet smelling colors & cancel the stinkiness of brown & yellow. Red & blue, as well, are colors that grow to enormous sizes, while yellow in particular can be a strangely runty color. It takes billions of yellow to make sunlight, for example, while a comparatively small amount of blue can make an entire sky. & the entire amount of blood in any animal's body (once exsanguinated, of course) is usually only one or two red.
Yellow was most probably invented shortly after an organ that did something somewhat different was conscripted by natural selection into being an eye. Even if that eye originally didn't see colors, yellow was pretty much in the bag & would only suffer a real crisis in its long existence when forced to deal with the Fauvists in the late 19th century. It took a mean-spirited old bruiser the likes of Piet Mondrian to restore yellow's good name just in time for it to be used for warning signs & fruity alcohol beverages designed to get sorority girls drunk.
I myself first met the color yellow when, in the early 1970s, I visited a schoolmate's house & saw my first color TV. I don't remember what was on, but I did take with me a sense of the grayness of my seven-year-old life & the need to pay a little more attention to the outside world. A group of angry sunflowers assaulted me on the way home, but their bellicose petulance did little to move me, since it wasn't long before I retreated into my own head again & yellow became just another word, like bellow, hello, mellow, cello, & Ernest & Julio Gallo (an early experiment in near rhyme) which I could use to help finish my first epic poem, "This Gary person is a really fine fellow." (It's still unpublished, although it may be ironic to note that the manuscript has yellowed with age.)
Yellow, being yellow, can't be said to have "yellowed," since that would be like saying "black has blackened" or "blue has the blues" (er, something like that), & I must admit, it's doing very well for its age. While a little disconcerted about what it calls "the upstarts" (especially infrared light, which really ticks yellow off), it's glad it has a place in everyone's life, every if it's mainly in advertisements & the aforementioned warning signs. (Yellow admits to being very fond of the signs that indicate an upcoming road crosses a railroad track. "That blows my mind!" says yellow.)
Yellow warns us, as Self Help Radio plans a "yellow show" this Friday, to not dwell on the negative - yellow as cowardice, yellow as urine, yellow as synonym for sensational journalism - but to concentrate on the good stuff - yellow in lemonade (which will cause copious urination), yellow in sunlight (which can cause skin cancer, lack of ozone layer permitting), yellow in good-for-you fruits & vegetables (now genetically altered so the yellow gleams like the hood of a car).
So Self Help Radio shall not. Because, despite some qualms about the color yellow - mainly its stinkiness - Self Help Radio is celebrating yellow this Friday.
& tomorrow I'll tell you why.
Monday, September 18, 2006
At the beginning of the week, I have nothing to say
But I can completely fill a few paragraphs saying it.
I didn't do anything for the Austin City Limits festival that happened this past weekend in Austin, unless you count giving up the guest room (which is what it's there for) to someone going to the festival. That means I didn't stand in the heat behind smelly people to see a band that I've seen in more intimate settings before, nor did I find myself at some bar afterward discovering that some cool indie dude is deejaying there, nor did I wander past a hotel only to see [insert some cool musician whom I probably wouldn't recognize anyway] enter & follow him/her/it into the lobby to try to get invited to a party upstairs.
I also didn't drive drunk, throw up on a stranger's shoes, wait in long lines to go to an overheated (& therefore delicious-smelling) port-o-potty, wait in the extremely humid Austin afternoon for a band to show up & discover I was at the wrong "stage," or spend too much money on beer & water & the obligatory paramedic's visit.
I might be a bit antisocial, but it's by choice, not necessarily because I don't like people or am agoraphobic or am prone to LSD flashbacks when the light hits me just right. But I just can't bring myself to become excited by these big-name festivals which try to be all things to all people (Tom Petty and TV On The Radio! Guy Clark and Stars!), because, while it might be fun for the bands (is it?) to play to people who wouldn't normally hear them, surely we as human beings have naturally more discriminating taste, & I for one would hate to be enjoying a set by Stars, for example, & have to hear, rumbling over the speakers on the other side of the park, the dreadful artificial alternative radio dredge that is the Raconteurs.
Some people love this sort of thing, though, & I don't mean to disrespect their enthusiasm for events like this. I was just saying that I didn't go, I didn't even consider going, & I did see the long lines on I-35 when I drove over & I thanked my lucky stars that I didn't see anything at the festival that made me desperately wish I were there. If you had fun, it's because we're wired differently. Or are we weird differently?
So you see? I really have nothing to say. Why say anything, then? Because this blog is anorexic! I need to fatten it up! Almost a week old & I got nothing here!
I can also tell you that Friday's show (about sugar) is now up. You can just click here to go to the archive page where you can listen to it. I don't rant at all during that show, mainly because my mouth was full of sugar the entire time.
I didn't do anything for the Austin City Limits festival that happened this past weekend in Austin, unless you count giving up the guest room (which is what it's there for) to someone going to the festival. That means I didn't stand in the heat behind smelly people to see a band that I've seen in more intimate settings before, nor did I find myself at some bar afterward discovering that some cool indie dude is deejaying there, nor did I wander past a hotel only to see [insert some cool musician whom I probably wouldn't recognize anyway] enter & follow him/her/it into the lobby to try to get invited to a party upstairs.
I also didn't drive drunk, throw up on a stranger's shoes, wait in long lines to go to an overheated (& therefore delicious-smelling) port-o-potty, wait in the extremely humid Austin afternoon for a band to show up & discover I was at the wrong "stage," or spend too much money on beer & water & the obligatory paramedic's visit.
I might be a bit antisocial, but it's by choice, not necessarily because I don't like people or am agoraphobic or am prone to LSD flashbacks when the light hits me just right. But I just can't bring myself to become excited by these big-name festivals which try to be all things to all people (Tom Petty and TV On The Radio! Guy Clark and Stars!), because, while it might be fun for the bands (is it?) to play to people who wouldn't normally hear them, surely we as human beings have naturally more discriminating taste, & I for one would hate to be enjoying a set by Stars, for example, & have to hear, rumbling over the speakers on the other side of the park, the dreadful artificial alternative radio dredge that is the Raconteurs.
Some people love this sort of thing, though, & I don't mean to disrespect their enthusiasm for events like this. I was just saying that I didn't go, I didn't even consider going, & I did see the long lines on I-35 when I drove over & I thanked my lucky stars that I didn't see anything at the festival that made me desperately wish I were there. If you had fun, it's because we're wired differently. Or are we weird differently?
So you see? I really have nothing to say. Why say anything, then? Because this blog is anorexic! I need to fatten it up! Almost a week old & I got nothing here!
I can also tell you that Friday's show (about sugar) is now up. You can just click here to go to the archive page where you can listen to it. I don't rant at all during that show, mainly because my mouth was full of sugar the entire time.
Friday, September 15, 2006
On The Radio Today: Sugar Songs Freshly Made
Here's what to expect if you listen to Self Help Radio today: the same old thing. Wait! That's not true! In addition to the regular stuff - many different genres of music expertly mixed together in such a masterfully way you'd never know the guy doing it can't even tie his shoes - as well the lively, witty banter in-between that has been called by the ghost of Dorothy Parker, "A piss-poor attempt at humor that would have been utterly crushed at the Algonquin Round Table" - there are three pieces of music - nay, Art - that were specifically created by people for Self Help Radio.
Since the beginning of the summer, local avant-garde musician, soccer fan & alcoholic CJ Buchanan has been creating sound collage "intros" for my show. Today will be no different. I've never met CJ Buchanan, although he did tell me I once saw him in a police line-up & picked the wrong guy, but word on the street is that he collects sounds the way others gather aluminum cans, & although he hasn't yet found a way to recycle the sounds for money, he does send the audio files to me on recycled mp3s. His "Sugar" intro was accompanied by obvious forgeries from major music magazines calling it, "the best Radiohead record yet," "incontrovertible proof that Elvis is indeed the King" &, mysteriously, "four bassists lost in exploding van/coal fire incident." His official bio, written on the back of a cereal box & left slightly smoking on my doorstep, reminds everyone that, "The world has taken a restraining order out against CJ Buchanan, so everyone must stay 200 yards away from him."
Two first-time contributors to the show will also have songs for you to hear:
Local artists The Licorice Whips are a husband & wife team who distinguish themselves from the growing "married couple pop" field by actually liking each other. Frankly it shocks me every time. In their Playboy centerfold, they list their likes as "Good music, good friends, good grub, cold hands, warm heart." Interestingly, they list their main dislike as, "People on community radio stations who make stuff up about us on their blog." I'm not sure what that might mean. In any event, their song "Sugar Substitute" is one minute, forty-five seconds of delicious confection. I'd floss after you listen. & yes, I mean, floss your brain.
Dallas artists the Ramonalisas also contribute a song, "Raw Sugar Elements," which you will hear today. I've known the lead singer of the Ramonalisas for over three lifetimes now, & it's a wonder her voice hasn't propelled her out of the Metroplex, which is famously tone deaf, & into some other scene - possibly Australia? - where she would get the candy apples & radio station attention she deserves. You can start the revolution by listening today.
If I sound too much like a publicist out to make a buck, that's my fault. I am overwhelmed when talented people contribute to my show & I am completely grateful to them for sharing with KOOP & its listeners. It's just that I've grown up, like the rest of you, learning how to compliment people by listening to superlatives thrown at me by television advertisements. I am trying to fight it. For example, I managed to leave the following adjectives & phrases out of this essay so far: juicy, tempting, healthy, low fat, bouncy, fuel-efficient, gay, straight, bi, worry-free, little purple pill, where's the beef?, Jesus, "if you lived here, you'd be home now," killer, awesome, edgy, claustrophobic, possible side effects include, side-saddle, thick, rich, flavorful, jabbing index finger, real & artificial.
That is indeed a wonder, seeing as how I can recite, word for word, a "My Little Pony" commercial I saw on Saturday Morning Television in the late 70's.
I hope you listen today!
Since the beginning of the summer, local avant-garde musician, soccer fan & alcoholic CJ Buchanan has been creating sound collage "intros" for my show. Today will be no different. I've never met CJ Buchanan, although he did tell me I once saw him in a police line-up & picked the wrong guy, but word on the street is that he collects sounds the way others gather aluminum cans, & although he hasn't yet found a way to recycle the sounds for money, he does send the audio files to me on recycled mp3s. His "Sugar" intro was accompanied by obvious forgeries from major music magazines calling it, "the best Radiohead record yet," "incontrovertible proof that Elvis is indeed the King" &, mysteriously, "four bassists lost in exploding van/coal fire incident." His official bio, written on the back of a cereal box & left slightly smoking on my doorstep, reminds everyone that, "The world has taken a restraining order out against CJ Buchanan, so everyone must stay 200 yards away from him."
Two first-time contributors to the show will also have songs for you to hear:
Local artists The Licorice Whips are a husband & wife team who distinguish themselves from the growing "married couple pop" field by actually liking each other. Frankly it shocks me every time. In their Playboy centerfold, they list their likes as "Good music, good friends, good grub, cold hands, warm heart." Interestingly, they list their main dislike as, "People on community radio stations who make stuff up about us on their blog." I'm not sure what that might mean. In any event, their song "Sugar Substitute" is one minute, forty-five seconds of delicious confection. I'd floss after you listen. & yes, I mean, floss your brain.
Dallas artists the Ramonalisas also contribute a song, "Raw Sugar Elements," which you will hear today. I've known the lead singer of the Ramonalisas for over three lifetimes now, & it's a wonder her voice hasn't propelled her out of the Metroplex, which is famously tone deaf, & into some other scene - possibly Australia? - where she would get the candy apples & radio station attention she deserves. You can start the revolution by listening today.
If I sound too much like a publicist out to make a buck, that's my fault. I am overwhelmed when talented people contribute to my show & I am completely grateful to them for sharing with KOOP & its listeners. It's just that I've grown up, like the rest of you, learning how to compliment people by listening to superlatives thrown at me by television advertisements. I am trying to fight it. For example, I managed to leave the following adjectives & phrases out of this essay so far: juicy, tempting, healthy, low fat, bouncy, fuel-efficient, gay, straight, bi, worry-free, little purple pill, where's the beef?, Jesus, "if you lived here, you'd be home now," killer, awesome, edgy, claustrophobic, possible side effects include, side-saddle, thick, rich, flavorful, jabbing index finger, real & artificial.
That is indeed a wonder, seeing as how I can recite, word for word, a "My Little Pony" commercial I saw on Saturday Morning Television in the late 70's.
I hope you listen today!
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Difficult Show Ideas # 1: The Place Where You Live
When I am hit by inspiration, which is, of course, 99% desperation, I react much as I do when I realize that someone in the house is gassy, & it ain't me. Most of the inspiration for my radio show is typical, much like most of the gas is from one of the dogs - oh he knows it's him - so I am thinking, "I'll do a show about the blues! Or a show about love songs! Or a show about drugs!" It's not that I don't think such things are valid, but my own desire to make something more interesting to listen to sometimes drives me to come up theme ideas that are so damn narrow & ridiculous ("I know! I'll do a show about male pattern baldness!") that I'd be better off writing all the songs for the show & pretending I'm twenty different bands. (Not that that show wouldn't totally rule. Because it wouldn't.)
So I want a challenge, but like every other damn New York Times Sunday crossword I've done, I can't quite finish up a lot of my show themes. I mean, it's hard to fill up ninety minutes if your show theme is something utterly obscure like "musicans with hairlips." But some aren't impossible, they're merely hard. I want to talk about one of them. Maybe you can help.
My iPod & my life were talking one day earlier this year, when, walking home from work, I happened to step into my driveway while listening to Grant Hart's heartbreaking ode to shacking up, "2541." I became interested in that number, & my corresponding number, "1309" (not nearly as sexy, I'll admit), & I started thinking, "Why do we have these things called addresses? How did that start?" They seemed like such a big thing in our lives - we need them to receive mail, to get food delivered, to tell our friends & family where we are, to confuse taxi drivers - so naturally, it would seem, there'd be a lot of songs about them.
Let me clarify: I wanted songs that not only mentioned addresses, but had something to say about the address. So, on the show, I could do my usual half-assed research (thirty minutes with the Wikipedia) & speak authoritatively about when humans started using addresses, famous addresses, all that. It was just a matter of finding songs that either featured a famous address or spoke of an address that meant something in the song.
Not so easy.
There were some obvious ones, besides the Grant Hart song, the inspiration of it all. The Stones have a song called "2120 South Michigan Avenue." There's the theme song for the TV show "77 Sunset Strip." I might even branch out a little & talk about places people hung out, if it were specific enough (like the Ramones' "53rd & 3rd"). But after attempting to encourage my brain to be creative by soaking it overnight in some whiskey, I was left with, at best, around 15 or so songs. Not nearly enough to make up a show - especially if they didn't flow well.
I should point out, I don't want to talk about streets, as in songs like "Lonely Avenue." I want the song to mention a specific place - if not an address, then at the very least enough description so you'd know it was somewhere that had an address.
I tried to branch out some more - looking for songs that talked about where someone lives. That brought it up to 20 or so. Still not enough to give me breathing room to make a really great show - so I tell you this story about my attempts to live up to one of my themes not only as a possible request for help, but also to show you how my mind works. Especially when it's not been soaking overnight in whiskey.
Below are some song ideas for the show, if it ever happens. If you have an idea to share, email it to me or discuss it on this bloggy blog. Then we can perhaps talk about that show about musicians with hairlips...
"77 Sunset Strip" Alpinestars
"52 Linthorpe Street" Cannanes
"88 Christopher Street" Dirt Bike Annie
"She Lives By The Castle" Felt
"The Place Where She Lives" Four Rockets
"2541" Grant Hart
"The Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill" Hüsker Dü
"I've Changed My Address" Jam
"8540 Twelfth Street" Yusef Lateef
"111 Archer Avenue" Mark Mothersbaugh
"101 W. 80th Street" Mount Everest Trio
"77 Sunset Strip" Frankie Ortega Trio
"1523 Blair" Outcasts
"53rd & 3rd" Ramones
"2120 South Michigan Avenue" Rolling Stones
"2500 Walden Ave." Saloon
"House Where Nobody Lives" Tom Waits
"Change Of Address Kit" Wimp Factor 14
So I want a challenge, but like every other damn New York Times Sunday crossword I've done, I can't quite finish up a lot of my show themes. I mean, it's hard to fill up ninety minutes if your show theme is something utterly obscure like "musicans with hairlips." But some aren't impossible, they're merely hard. I want to talk about one of them. Maybe you can help.
My iPod & my life were talking one day earlier this year, when, walking home from work, I happened to step into my driveway while listening to Grant Hart's heartbreaking ode to shacking up, "2541." I became interested in that number, & my corresponding number, "1309" (not nearly as sexy, I'll admit), & I started thinking, "Why do we have these things called addresses? How did that start?" They seemed like such a big thing in our lives - we need them to receive mail, to get food delivered, to tell our friends & family where we are, to confuse taxi drivers - so naturally, it would seem, there'd be a lot of songs about them.
Let me clarify: I wanted songs that not only mentioned addresses, but had something to say about the address. So, on the show, I could do my usual half-assed research (thirty minutes with the Wikipedia) & speak authoritatively about when humans started using addresses, famous addresses, all that. It was just a matter of finding songs that either featured a famous address or spoke of an address that meant something in the song.
Not so easy.
There were some obvious ones, besides the Grant Hart song, the inspiration of it all. The Stones have a song called "2120 South Michigan Avenue." There's the theme song for the TV show "77 Sunset Strip." I might even branch out a little & talk about places people hung out, if it were specific enough (like the Ramones' "53rd & 3rd"). But after attempting to encourage my brain to be creative by soaking it overnight in some whiskey, I was left with, at best, around 15 or so songs. Not nearly enough to make up a show - especially if they didn't flow well.
I should point out, I don't want to talk about streets, as in songs like "Lonely Avenue." I want the song to mention a specific place - if not an address, then at the very least enough description so you'd know it was somewhere that had an address.
I tried to branch out some more - looking for songs that talked about where someone lives. That brought it up to 20 or so. Still not enough to give me breathing room to make a really great show - so I tell you this story about my attempts to live up to one of my themes not only as a possible request for help, but also to show you how my mind works. Especially when it's not been soaking overnight in whiskey.
Below are some song ideas for the show, if it ever happens. If you have an idea to share, email it to me or discuss it on this bloggy blog. Then we can perhaps talk about that show about musicians with hairlips...
"77 Sunset Strip" Alpinestars
"52 Linthorpe Street" Cannanes
"88 Christopher Street" Dirt Bike Annie
"She Lives By The Castle" Felt
"The Place Where She Lives" Four Rockets
"2541" Grant Hart
"The Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill" Hüsker Dü
"I've Changed My Address" Jam
"8540 Twelfth Street" Yusef Lateef
"111 Archer Avenue" Mark Mothersbaugh
"101 W. 80th Street" Mount Everest Trio
"77 Sunset Strip" Frankie Ortega Trio
"1523 Blair" Outcasts
"53rd & 3rd" Ramones
"2120 South Michigan Avenue" Rolling Stones
"2500 Walden Ave." Saloon
"House Where Nobody Lives" Tom Waits
"Change Of Address Kit" Wimp Factor 14
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Whither Sugar?
This week's show - this Friday at 4:30pm - will be about sugar. I joked with my apprentice Erin that she's "feminized" the show somewhat - since she's started, we've had shows about pearls & hairdos - but the truth is, I've always been a little girly. Lookit: earlier in the summer I did shows about love letters & cupid - I am much more welcome at poetry readings than dockside bars. So, sugar. Why sugar? Come over here, sugar, & I'll tell ya.
Occasionally it's fun to pick a theme that's so amazingly broad that I just know I'll have a ton of great music to choose from. Some themes lend themselves to excavation - I'll talk about some of those challenging themes later on, & maybe you can help me - but some are almost "gimmes" because they can be done blindfolded, with your brain switching its jukebox on & playing every song that talks about the singer's "sugar" - from the Archies on, your brain shall spring multitudes.
Of course, it's my task to not only pick the sweetest (I couldn't resist) from the bunch, but also to put them together in a way that makes them sound good. I like the show, as you know if you've listened, to mix it up a little bit. I've found old jazz records & naughty soul records, coy indiepop & embarrassing rock & roll. I haven't even gathered everything on my list yet, actually. & right now my iPod is stuffed with 40 songs (2 hours total) whittled down from 80, with some 20 still to be mp3ed & listened to. Mine is a lonely task, deep in the dungeon of my record collection, with only the cobwebs & the Roxy Music record sleeves to keep me warm. But I do for the love of the radio show.
But why sugar? What the hell?
It started with this article here, called Sugar, aka Sucrose, Glucose, Fructose, Kiddie Crack. Initially I thought it was a joke, since it's written in a very snotty tone, sarcastically, like the writer just finished reading a Vice Magazine guide or something. But no, it's pretty serious: the article insists that sugar is a drug that we are feeding our kids & getting them addicted to. After I read it the first time, I was totally jonesing for a candy bar.
I don't know if I agree, & I don't have a whole lot of time to waste on conspiracy-type theories (I'm too busy trying to find out how "they" placed the explosives that took down the Twin Towers), but the article does note that nearly every bit of research about the harmlessness of sugar is funded by "the massive world sugar industry." That should be enough to make your inner skeptic twitch a bit. If it's done twitching, you know, from the last Rumsfield speech. My inner skeptic basically has Tourette's right now.
So I read the article & said, "Yeah, I'll do a show about sugar." It also made me want to do a few lines of sugar, but I resisted. I did think that maybe Erin & I should test the "sugar-as-drug" theory in the article by following its advice & ingesting a lot of sugar before the show, on an empty stomach. If I weren't already so damn nervous every time I go on the air, it might make the show a sugar-high, sugar-low roller coaster ride. But, mmmm, eating sugar.
I hope you'll tune in to hear facts & figures about the "massive world sugar industry," as well as its product, made from cane & beets & grain & corn. But for right now, dude, I totally need a candy bar.
Occasionally it's fun to pick a theme that's so amazingly broad that I just know I'll have a ton of great music to choose from. Some themes lend themselves to excavation - I'll talk about some of those challenging themes later on, & maybe you can help me - but some are almost "gimmes" because they can be done blindfolded, with your brain switching its jukebox on & playing every song that talks about the singer's "sugar" - from the Archies on, your brain shall spring multitudes.
Of course, it's my task to not only pick the sweetest (I couldn't resist) from the bunch, but also to put them together in a way that makes them sound good. I like the show, as you know if you've listened, to mix it up a little bit. I've found old jazz records & naughty soul records, coy indiepop & embarrassing rock & roll. I haven't even gathered everything on my list yet, actually. & right now my iPod is stuffed with 40 songs (2 hours total) whittled down from 80, with some 20 still to be mp3ed & listened to. Mine is a lonely task, deep in the dungeon of my record collection, with only the cobwebs & the Roxy Music record sleeves to keep me warm. But I do for the love of the radio show.
But why sugar? What the hell?
It started with this article here, called Sugar, aka Sucrose, Glucose, Fructose, Kiddie Crack. Initially I thought it was a joke, since it's written in a very snotty tone, sarcastically, like the writer just finished reading a Vice Magazine guide or something. But no, it's pretty serious: the article insists that sugar is a drug that we are feeding our kids & getting them addicted to. After I read it the first time, I was totally jonesing for a candy bar.
I don't know if I agree, & I don't have a whole lot of time to waste on conspiracy-type theories (I'm too busy trying to find out how "they" placed the explosives that took down the Twin Towers), but the article does note that nearly every bit of research about the harmlessness of sugar is funded by "the massive world sugar industry." That should be enough to make your inner skeptic twitch a bit. If it's done twitching, you know, from the last Rumsfield speech. My inner skeptic basically has Tourette's right now.
So I read the article & said, "Yeah, I'll do a show about sugar." It also made me want to do a few lines of sugar, but I resisted. I did think that maybe Erin & I should test the "sugar-as-drug" theory in the article by following its advice & ingesting a lot of sugar before the show, on an empty stomach. If I weren't already so damn nervous every time I go on the air, it might make the show a sugar-high, sugar-low roller coaster ride. But, mmmm, eating sugar.
I hope you'll tune in to hear facts & figures about the "massive world sugar industry," as well as its product, made from cane & beets & grain & corn. But for right now, dude, I totally need a candy bar.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
I Can't Begin, I Must Begin
Hi, my name is Gary & I am a self-conscious old douchebag who has been doing radio in Austin since the middle of the 1990s. I am hungry for your love & attention, but I am also possessed of a daunting modesty that many people would call "embarrassment," so the idea of having something like a "blog" makes me feel only slightly more comfortable than a root canal on a cruise ship full of evacuees from a war-torn country. But here I go. God help me.
I do this radio show, see, called "Self Help Radio," see. It has nothing to do with Self Help. It has everything to do with Radio. I believe that Radio (with a capital R, like a German noun) will not only save our lives, it might also help us with the Old Dude Upstairs. I confess, I'd love to make money doing Radio. The trouble is, there are only a few people making money doing radio these days, & those people might be called "programmers," except that word doesn't mean "the people who program the material being played on the radio"; instead, it means "the people who program the robots that produce most of the radio in the world." That's right, your FM dial is filled with robots. & I don't just mean the Bob Dylan Robot that just released a new record, neither. I mean you are listening to radio in your town that was created by someone living in some corporate tower in the middle of Somewhere Else, America, & it's being played to you by robots.
You know this. I am just trying to be silly. I won't ever make a dime off radio, but I will make friends & I will have a chance to play music I love & music you'll love, & I'll also get the chance to say, with voice a-trembling, "This Radio Station is Robot-Free!" Because I deejay at a station here in Austin called KOOP (pronounced either K-O-O-P or KO-OP, never like the last name of Reagan's Surgeon General, although sometimes it can feel stuffy & there might be chickens about) which is a community radio station with dozens of programmers who are all volunteers. I used to deejay at a college radio station called KVRX, which shares the frequency with us ("KOOP on during the day, KVRX at night" is the rule) & is like our bratty younger sibling with cooler hair & better access to the latest drugs. I have been doing this Radio stuff since the summer of 1994, & my current show, which is the name of this "blog" (just writing that makes my gall bladder throb), I have been doing for about four years now. So enough about robots. Let's talk about the show.
The name Self Help Radio is a private joke, as once someone told me, "Gary, your life is all about self-help." But it can mean a million other things, too, you know. It can mean I am helping myself on the radio, or it can mean you are helping yourself to radio, or it can mean that listening to me has a therapeutic affect on people whose minds have been completely destroyed by electroshock therapy, or it can mean that it's a chance to hear new, different musics. Create your own definition! Start your own blog! Be your own best friend! I'm not always going to be around to bail your out when your shenanagins get you in trouble, babe.
I like to organize the show around what I call "themes." (An esoteric word, I know. Look it up.) These themes hopefully lend themselves to interesting music & informative airbreaks & possibly ridiculous on-air commentary. Recent themes have included motorcycles, pearls, love letters & people who used to have chins but for some reason don't appear to anymore. (Okay, that one was made up.) I will also occasionally feature a single artist, usually to beg people to support the station during a Membership Drive (like a tribute to David Bowie last April, & an upcoming tribute to the Velvet Underground in a few weeks, or the tribute to the late Arthur Lee & his band Love after his sad demise in August). Sometimes the amateur etymologist in me will become fixated on a word or phrase - I have done shows in which the songs admonish you to "wake up!" or are asking you to "do it" without quite explaining what it is you are supposed to do. & I have the obligatory annual shows I annually, generally once a year. I do a show on my birthday (which is in January) which is a kind of creeping "best of" from the year of my birth on - I've done 1968, 1969 & 1970, & so this January, my favorite records from 1971. I do a Valentine's show, a South By Southwest show, a Halloween Show, a My Favorite Stuff From The Year show, & a Christmas show. The rest of the time, it's really about what sorts of themes pop into my head the moments before that head hits the floor after my girlfriend sucker punches me during our nightly "practice fights" (or what she calls "foreplay.")
These are a few of my upcoming themes:
091506: Sugar
092206: The Yellow Show
092906: The Sleepy Show
100606: A Tribute To The Velvet Underground
Do I take requests? Yes! For both songs to play & themes? Yes! Do I read haikus on the air! Yes! Can you write a haiku for me to read on the air? Please! (See my website for details on that.) Can you listen to old shows on your website? Yes! Will I come over to your house & clean the wasps' nest on the porch? No! Can you look forward to long-ass blog entries like this which are more tedious than promotional? Absolutely!
Now that that's all done, I hope you'll listen, & maybe become more involved. Later on, we'll talk about getting more involved. I'll also be talking about the eeriness of my fingernails, which grow & grow & grow, without regard for common decency or public approbation. That'll be riveting.
Fridays 4:30 to 6:00pm on 91.7 KOOP Austin, online at www.koop.org. See you there, beautiful.
I do this radio show, see, called "Self Help Radio," see. It has nothing to do with Self Help. It has everything to do with Radio. I believe that Radio (with a capital R, like a German noun) will not only save our lives, it might also help us with the Old Dude Upstairs. I confess, I'd love to make money doing Radio. The trouble is, there are only a few people making money doing radio these days, & those people might be called "programmers," except that word doesn't mean "the people who program the material being played on the radio"; instead, it means "the people who program the robots that produce most of the radio in the world." That's right, your FM dial is filled with robots. & I don't just mean the Bob Dylan Robot that just released a new record, neither. I mean you are listening to radio in your town that was created by someone living in some corporate tower in the middle of Somewhere Else, America, & it's being played to you by robots.
You know this. I am just trying to be silly. I won't ever make a dime off radio, but I will make friends & I will have a chance to play music I love & music you'll love, & I'll also get the chance to say, with voice a-trembling, "This Radio Station is Robot-Free!" Because I deejay at a station here in Austin called KOOP (pronounced either K-O-O-P or KO-OP, never like the last name of Reagan's Surgeon General, although sometimes it can feel stuffy & there might be chickens about) which is a community radio station with dozens of programmers who are all volunteers. I used to deejay at a college radio station called KVRX, which shares the frequency with us ("KOOP on during the day, KVRX at night" is the rule) & is like our bratty younger sibling with cooler hair & better access to the latest drugs. I have been doing this Radio stuff since the summer of 1994, & my current show, which is the name of this "blog" (just writing that makes my gall bladder throb), I have been doing for about four years now. So enough about robots. Let's talk about the show.
The name Self Help Radio is a private joke, as once someone told me, "Gary, your life is all about self-help." But it can mean a million other things, too, you know. It can mean I am helping myself on the radio, or it can mean you are helping yourself to radio, or it can mean that listening to me has a therapeutic affect on people whose minds have been completely destroyed by electroshock therapy, or it can mean that it's a chance to hear new, different musics. Create your own definition! Start your own blog! Be your own best friend! I'm not always going to be around to bail your out when your shenanagins get you in trouble, babe.
I like to organize the show around what I call "themes." (An esoteric word, I know. Look it up.) These themes hopefully lend themselves to interesting music & informative airbreaks & possibly ridiculous on-air commentary. Recent themes have included motorcycles, pearls, love letters & people who used to have chins but for some reason don't appear to anymore. (Okay, that one was made up.) I will also occasionally feature a single artist, usually to beg people to support the station during a Membership Drive (like a tribute to David Bowie last April, & an upcoming tribute to the Velvet Underground in a few weeks, or the tribute to the late Arthur Lee & his band Love after his sad demise in August). Sometimes the amateur etymologist in me will become fixated on a word or phrase - I have done shows in which the songs admonish you to "wake up!" or are asking you to "do it" without quite explaining what it is you are supposed to do. & I have the obligatory annual shows I annually, generally once a year. I do a show on my birthday (which is in January) which is a kind of creeping "best of" from the year of my birth on - I've done 1968, 1969 & 1970, & so this January, my favorite records from 1971. I do a Valentine's show, a South By Southwest show, a Halloween Show, a My Favorite Stuff From The Year show, & a Christmas show. The rest of the time, it's really about what sorts of themes pop into my head the moments before that head hits the floor after my girlfriend sucker punches me during our nightly "practice fights" (or what she calls "foreplay.")
These are a few of my upcoming themes:
091506: Sugar
092206: The Yellow Show
092906: The Sleepy Show
100606: A Tribute To The Velvet Underground
Do I take requests? Yes! For both songs to play & themes? Yes! Do I read haikus on the air! Yes! Can you write a haiku for me to read on the air? Please! (See my website for details on that.) Can you listen to old shows on your website? Yes! Will I come over to your house & clean the wasps' nest on the porch? No! Can you look forward to long-ass blog entries like this which are more tedious than promotional? Absolutely!
Now that that's all done, I hope you'll listen, & maybe become more involved. Later on, we'll talk about getting more involved. I'll also be talking about the eeriness of my fingernails, which grow & grow & grow, without regard for common decency or public approbation. That'll be riveting.
Fridays 4:30 to 6:00pm on 91.7 KOOP Austin, online at www.koop.org. See you there, beautiful.