As a freshman communication major, I was a member of the radio station staff and therefore spent time listening to and getting to know the radio station. That's not to say I wasn't immune to the effects and programming of the university television station, a low-powered cable-only job that had – or pretended to have – its own level of student management. But we'll get to that later.
Since the semester was just getting underway at this time, Community Channel Seven (the branded name of this operation) tended to air a lot of previous semester programming. After the semester got underway, students in the higher-level broadcasting courses would be responsible for creating new content, but for now all there was were older programs that the department coordinator liked and kept in rotation.
Students tended to create a myriad of programs for their assignments – anything from movie review programs to attempts at sitcoms, game shows, soap operas or something sports-themed. One of the sports programs I remember was not one of the assigned class programs, but something extra-curricular made for someone's resume tape - a fairly lengthy program on the women’s tennis team. I never knew the origin of the program, which ran about 30 minutes in length, a surprisingly long program as far as student productions went. Evidentially there was plenty of footage of the team in motion to select from...maybe the student was trying to impress someone on the team? Perhaps it was honoring a recently won tennis award? Nah – more than likely, someone was trying to pad a résumé tape.
What always deterred me from the program, aside from the excess of cheesy editing effects, was the music that served as a sort of unofficial theme for the program. It popped up in various places but never sounded "right" when it did. It was a rock song, you could tell, but with a sort of wheezy rhythm and with what sounded like a kazoo oozing out an unimpressive and nerve-twitching melody. It wasn't until I was in the middle of a classic rock shift years later that I discovered the problematic song. It was Crosstown Traffic, by guitar virtuoso Jimi Hendrix, of all people.
Perhaps had I first heard it in a different setting I would have had a better reaction to the song. But I didn’t. And I still don’t care for it. And Shudder to Think - that late-1980s/early-1990s pop/punk band consisting of Stuart Hill, Chris Matthews, Mike Russell, and Craig Wedren - didn’t help with their 1991 cover, either.
Sorry, Jimi.
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Crosstown Traffic
(Jimi Hendrix)
Shudder to Think
From the album Funeral at the Movies
1991
You jump in front of my car when you,
You know all the time that
Ninety miles an hour, girl, is the speed I drive
You tell me it’s alright, you don’t mind a little pain
You say you just want me to take you for a ride
You’re just like crosstown traffic
So hard to get through to you
Crosstown traffic
I don’t need to run over you
Crosstown traffic
All you do is slow me down
And I’m tryin to get on the other side of town
I’m not the only soul who’s accused of hit and run
Tire tracks all across your back
I can see you had your fun
But darlin can’t you see my signals turn from green to red
And with you I can see a traffic jam straight up ahead
You’re just like crosstown traffic
So hard to get through to you
Crosstown traffic
I don’t need to run over you
Crosstown traffic
All you do is slow me down
And I got better things on the other side of town
