In its simplest terms, a play list is an ordered record of songs that have been scheduled for air during any given time period (usually, in our cases, for one hour). While play lists (be it on paper or an electronic list via a computer screen) were a necessary requirement in commercial radio, I discovered throughout my years that play lists could often be bane of some college stations.
Many university-run stations I was aware of a decade ago seemed to be set on this idea of a free form fun-for-all shift, where the host plays "whatever" for two or three hours, followed by someone else with the same “whatever” mentality. That's fine and I think it's wise to allow that freedom; however I always felt it was horrendously disorganized and had the potential to leave out mass quantities of music that DJs didn’t always enjoy.
Hourly play lists at my undergraduate station were generated by a specialized computer application, one that had been in use for a long time, I always assumed. Midway through my association with the station, the music office received a number computer and we tried to install the application and transfer all our data – neither task worked, meaning bought us some new software and we had to start over from scratch with entering music. And this transition period was hardly enjoyable.
For the play list application to do its thing, station management (mainly the music director with the assistance of the music format coordinators) had to enter every potential playable track into the system. Or, as it usually was, every potential playable track that fit the sound of the station (see A falling star that you cannot live without). That meant every compact disc (or playable media – like vinyl discs for the classic rock show) was assigned a unique, incremental number; e.g. classical discs might be in the 10000 range, rock in the 50000 range, hip-hop the 30000s, and so on. Tracks, or cuts, from each album (record, disc, media – whatever) were then entered into the system, including basic information such as the title, artist, and song length.
Let's use one of our weekly preview discs as an example: the next available album number was 30451, and we wanted to add the eighth track on the album (Fugazi's "Blueprint") into rotation. This album/cut number was added into the software and thusly appeared on the play list as 30451-08. Whoever the music director was usually had his or her hands full with ensuring music was 1) labeled correctly on the disc, and 2) entered correctly into the computer application. Another responsibility of the music director was to print play lists in advance of the DJ shift so that the student on duty could simply go down the list and easily pull their three hours of music from the shelves.
So, yes, it did serve as a blue print of the hour, as it were. Some students had input into the creation of their play list, and most everyone’s list was edited during their shift to accommodate listener requests.
I don’t recall many requests for Fugazi, as I don’t think the music director entered much, if any, of it back into the computer system after the software transition. There were occasional “finds” of such music that someone would have to have come across by accident, and occasionally a knowledgeable DJs would play such a find as their own request; “Waiting Room” was one such track.
Band members Brendan Canty, Joe Lally, Ian MacKaye, and Guy Picciotto released Fugazi’s most recent album in 2001 (The Argument).
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Blueprint
(Fugazi)
Fugazi
From the album Repeater + 3 Songs
1990
I'm not playing with you,
I'm not playing with you,
I'm not playing with you,
I clean forgot how to play.
But you can still come around,
In fact I invite you down,
Maybe together we can wipe that smile off your face.
'Cause what a difference, what a difference, what a difference
A little difference would make.
We'll draw a blueprint, it must be easy,
It's just a matter of knowing when to say no or yes.
Frustrating, frustrating, always waiting for the bigger axe to fall.
A patient game that i can't find my way to play.
Never mind what's been selling,
It's what you're buying
and receiving undefiled.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Pop Quiz
The Introduction to Broadcasting course (see Broadcast) was sort of divided into two halves, with one half of the semester geared toward audio production and the rest of the year devoted to television, although there was of course some overlap. Naturally the audio elements were presented first – as a foundation – as it was understood (by most) that the later details of video production would be built on the earlier lessons of the semester.
This, then, would be a good place to briefly introduce Lanna Sexton, one of the obnoxious prima donnas of the class, who made it known she felt her attendance was an oversight and she was just ready to get her degree in television (i.e. radio was beneath her). We'll discuss some more about her later on.
The course began with Propel's introductory chatter about radio and television production in general. From there it was lessons on dayparts and target audiences (enter new word: demographics) and so on. The following week or so, when most of this seemingly basic and unnecessary information was dissipating, Propel decided to make good on his threat from the syllabus (enter another new word, for those new to college...).
I've noted some of Dr. Propel's classroom quirks (e.g. EBS threats, video montages); another such trait was his penchant for the unannounced pop quiz. The syllabus said to expect them anytime, be it any day of class or any time during class (nothing soured the morning more than getting through the first hour and ten minutes thinking we were home free and having him end class with a 20-question quiz). Propel usually segued from attendance or the lesson right into the quiz, with little fanfare; the only hint was his whimsical announcement, "It's time for a quiz."
After a brief pause, in which time Propel would contort his face into an impish grin of delight, we were then given a simple directives: "Take out...two...sheets...of pay-pah!" The phrase was known building wide and parodied often. The ridiculous stress on the word "two" and the silly pronunciation of the word "paper," plus the fact we heard it weekly, left an imprint on many people's psyche. Long after he had left the department people would still crack a grin when someone tried to do a Propel impression.
And what of the quiz? We were the Pop Quiz Kids, speedily moving about to get out our two pieces of paper (one to write on, the other to cover our answers) before he began asking questions because, as we learned, a question was only asked three times. He asked twice in the course of the quiz and if someone missed a question he would recite it once more. But never four times would a question be asked.
One of the first quizzes was asking the class to give our individual interpretation of the word "broadcasting." Most everyone had an answer that dealt with audio and video signals dancing across the ionosphere or something media-related. If memory serves, only one (or a scant few) knew the somewhat-dated definition involving seed scattering. Naturally, even while the curriculum discussed mass media and so on, Dr. Propel only wanted the archaic answer about seed scattering.
Such was the way of Dr. Propel.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Pop Quiz
(Mark Mancina)
Mark Mancina
From the album Speed: the Original Score
1994
This, then, would be a good place to briefly introduce Lanna Sexton, one of the obnoxious prima donnas of the class, who made it known she felt her attendance was an oversight and she was just ready to get her degree in television (i.e. radio was beneath her). We'll discuss some more about her later on.
The course began with Propel's introductory chatter about radio and television production in general. From there it was lessons on dayparts and target audiences (enter new word: demographics) and so on. The following week or so, when most of this seemingly basic and unnecessary information was dissipating, Propel decided to make good on his threat from the syllabus (enter another new word, for those new to college...).
I've noted some of Dr. Propel's classroom quirks (e.g. EBS threats, video montages); another such trait was his penchant for the unannounced pop quiz. The syllabus said to expect them anytime, be it any day of class or any time during class (nothing soured the morning more than getting through the first hour and ten minutes thinking we were home free and having him end class with a 20-question quiz). Propel usually segued from attendance or the lesson right into the quiz, with little fanfare; the only hint was his whimsical announcement, "It's time for a quiz."
After a brief pause, in which time Propel would contort his face into an impish grin of delight, we were then given a simple directives: "Take out...two...sheets...of pay-pah!" The phrase was known building wide and parodied often. The ridiculous stress on the word "two" and the silly pronunciation of the word "paper," plus the fact we heard it weekly, left an imprint on many people's psyche. Long after he had left the department people would still crack a grin when someone tried to do a Propel impression.
And what of the quiz? We were the Pop Quiz Kids, speedily moving about to get out our two pieces of paper (one to write on, the other to cover our answers) before he began asking questions because, as we learned, a question was only asked three times. He asked twice in the course of the quiz and if someone missed a question he would recite it once more. But never four times would a question be asked.
One of the first quizzes was asking the class to give our individual interpretation of the word "broadcasting." Most everyone had an answer that dealt with audio and video signals dancing across the ionosphere or something media-related. If memory serves, only one (or a scant few) knew the somewhat-dated definition involving seed scattering. Naturally, even while the curriculum discussed mass media and so on, Dr. Propel only wanted the archaic answer about seed scattering.
Such was the way of Dr. Propel.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Pop Quiz
(Mark Mancina)
Mark Mancina
From the album Speed: the Original Score
1994
Sunday, November 25, 2007
The days I think about you, but what seems an eternity
Over the years there have been a few songs that I’ve heard fragments of only two or three times before they were lost into that tedious sound warehouse in the sky some refer to as the ionosphere. There is seldom a common bond between these songs and why I still remember those random thirty-second segments is something I don’t always understand myself. Was it the melody that caught my ear? Snappy lyrics? Catchy beat? Was it the fact I was doing something important when I first caught an earful of the song? Who knows? Here are but two Meditations on a Mix Tape.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
We were meant to be together...above the palm tree
For years I was aware of a brief bit of audiotape that I had surely recorded sometime in the early 1990s, a haunting tune with a certain tropical air to it. What made it difficult to identify was that whoever was singing made a point of quickly flowing his lyrics from one line another; only certain words were identifiable: “we were meant to be together” and something about a “palm tree.” But this sultry imagery combined with the breezy but faint sounds of crashing ocean waves did little to help me explain it to others, especially when young and naïve ears misinterpreted the line of the song – more so the title of the song – “Forbidden Love” as “The two that love.”
As an added insult was that by now I had misplaced the cassette – I was going on these lyrics by sheer memory – and naturally no sooner was the tape lost did I finally find an online forum dedicated to helping people identify lost songs. My attempts of explaining myself were all but successful - could I provide more lyrics? Have I tried a Peter Cetera lyric engine? No, my only real memory is the melody, something difficult for me to transcribe, and I again leave the mystery behind for another three or four years.
But when the cassette surfaced earlier this spring, I was surprised that the lyrics now were somewhat clearer and, more so, searchable. Finally I was able to put a name with a song: Bronx Style Bob and his minor hit, “Forbidden Love.” Bob Khaleel was the musician behind the song, a New York City native who had ties with Ice-T and House of Pain’s Everlast.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Just forget about the hard times left behind, and think of where you really want to go....
There was, once upon a time, a Norwegian trio of musicians that called themselves One 2 Many, which does not leave much to the imagination except the question of whether or not they preferred themselves a duo. Having a common phrase as a band name, albeit spelled differently, probably led to some confusion with some listeners, mistaking the band name with some random words from the DJ.
I first heard bits and pieces of their lone, hit single, “Downtown,” around 1988 or so. Because I usually heard the song long after it had begun, I never heard, much less knew, whether or not the DJ said anything as to the name of the band. By dumb luck, the one time I do hear the beginning of the song was the time I was recording music off the radio to audiocassette. Somewhere in his talk, the DJ made mention that this was one too many “Downtown” – leading me to believe this was one more in a long line of songs that couldn’t think of a better title than “Downtown.” Petula Clark was the only other “Downtown” I knew of then, but since, Lloyd Cole and Neil Young have had their own “Downtown,” too.
While I had listened to the cassette over the years, it wasn’t until maybe fifteen years had passed before I decided to play detective and figure out if anything about the long-forgotten song had made it into the digital age. Thumbing through an online listing of Top 40 hits, I spotted the song title and stared stupidly at the band name: One 2 Many. The name of the band was out there, just not something I was able to grasp.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Forbidden Love
(Bob Khalil)
Bronx Style Bob
From the album Gramma's Ghost
1992
Can you bring the light, my children?
Can you bring the light, my love?
Smile was like the night laughing in the water
The deeper inside is all the purecy of love
We'll have it like the past
And the grass is for the universe
To thinking we're born way to live down a dream
Refrain 1:
My love, I suppose this is well life a bonus
And when the marchingband players
Takes me away, you love
Refrain 2:
Forbidden love, but we were meant to be together
Forbidden passions over fridge above the palmtree
Forbidden love, but we were meant to be together
Forbidden passions over fridge above the palmtree
Above the clouds
Where my grandmother fought with the guns of life
Above the wings
Where the angels dance
Blessed by the roots of love I should know you
Promised by the god I shall exist for you
And I love you, I need you
I love you, I need you
Refrain 2
You know I love you, baby
Yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I shall love, I shall want you 'till the end of time
When you're goin' and you hide, you know it
That you're on my mind
Forbidden love, but we were meant to be together
Forbidden passions over fridge above the palmtree
Ah, aha
Yeah
Yeaheaheaheah
The days I think about you
But what seems an eternity
To keep your overconscience
I prophesize my own destiny
And when you go I'll be right there
Wait 'till the land's above the sky, you know
To build on the woods of love
Sees that love don't die
Refrain 2
Ahaha
Yeaheaheah
Refrain 1
- - - - - - - - - - - -
We were meant to be together...above the palm tree
For years I was aware of a brief bit of audiotape that I had surely recorded sometime in the early 1990s, a haunting tune with a certain tropical air to it. What made it difficult to identify was that whoever was singing made a point of quickly flowing his lyrics from one line another; only certain words were identifiable: “we were meant to be together” and something about a “palm tree.” But this sultry imagery combined with the breezy but faint sounds of crashing ocean waves did little to help me explain it to others, especially when young and naïve ears misinterpreted the line of the song – more so the title of the song – “Forbidden Love” as “The two that love.”
As an added insult was that by now I had misplaced the cassette – I was going on these lyrics by sheer memory – and naturally no sooner was the tape lost did I finally find an online forum dedicated to helping people identify lost songs. My attempts of explaining myself were all but successful - could I provide more lyrics? Have I tried a Peter Cetera lyric engine? No, my only real memory is the melody, something difficult for me to transcribe, and I again leave the mystery behind for another three or four years.
But when the cassette surfaced earlier this spring, I was surprised that the lyrics now were somewhat clearer and, more so, searchable. Finally I was able to put a name with a song: Bronx Style Bob and his minor hit, “Forbidden Love.” Bob Khaleel was the musician behind the song, a New York City native who had ties with Ice-T and House of Pain’s Everlast.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Just forget about the hard times left behind, and think of where you really want to go....
There was, once upon a time, a Norwegian trio of musicians that called themselves One 2 Many, which does not leave much to the imagination except the question of whether or not they preferred themselves a duo. Having a common phrase as a band name, albeit spelled differently, probably led to some confusion with some listeners, mistaking the band name with some random words from the DJ.
I first heard bits and pieces of their lone, hit single, “Downtown,” around 1988 or so. Because I usually heard the song long after it had begun, I never heard, much less knew, whether or not the DJ said anything as to the name of the band. By dumb luck, the one time I do hear the beginning of the song was the time I was recording music off the radio to audiocassette. Somewhere in his talk, the DJ made mention that this was one too many “Downtown” – leading me to believe this was one more in a long line of songs that couldn’t think of a better title than “Downtown.” Petula Clark was the only other “Downtown” I knew of then, but since, Lloyd Cole and Neil Young have had their own “Downtown,” too.
While I had listened to the cassette over the years, it wasn’t until maybe fifteen years had passed before I decided to play detective and figure out if anything about the long-forgotten song had made it into the digital age. Thumbing through an online listing of Top 40 hits, I spotted the song title and stared stupidly at the band name: One 2 Many. The name of the band was out there, just not something I was able to grasp.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Forbidden Love
(Bob Khalil)
Bronx Style Bob
From the album Gramma's Ghost
1992
Can you bring the light, my children?
Can you bring the light, my love?
Smile was like the night laughing in the water
The deeper inside is all the purecy of love
We'll have it like the past
And the grass is for the universe
To thinking we're born way to live down a dream
Refrain 1:
My love, I suppose this is well life a bonus
And when the marchingband players
Takes me away, you love
Refrain 2:
Forbidden love, but we were meant to be together
Forbidden passions over fridge above the palmtree
Forbidden love, but we were meant to be together
Forbidden passions over fridge above the palmtree
Above the clouds
Where my grandmother fought with the guns of life
Above the wings
Where the angels dance
Blessed by the roots of love I should know you
Promised by the god I shall exist for you
And I love you, I need you
I love you, I need you
Refrain 2
You know I love you, baby
Yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I shall love, I shall want you 'till the end of time
When you're goin' and you hide, you know it
That you're on my mind
Forbidden love, but we were meant to be together
Forbidden passions over fridge above the palmtree
Ah, aha
Yeah
Yeaheaheaheah
The days I think about you
But what seems an eternity
To keep your overconscience
I prophesize my own destiny
And when you go I'll be right there
Wait 'till the land's above the sky, you know
To build on the woods of love
Sees that love don't die
Refrain 2
Ahaha
Yeaheaheah
Refrain 1
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Right there and then I knew that something was gonna happen, but I couldn’t say what
As a radio format, the term "world music" brings to mind the concept of a radio station mixing together various forms of popular music from a multitude of ethnic groups. If I were in charge of a North American "rock" based world music program, I might try and find what was popular in Norway, Japan, India, maybe Sudan, and perhaps Peru, too.
And that's the sort of thing I thought the "world beat" format would be during graduate school. The station boasted its two-hour weekend program of world music, and I started checking out the music soon after assuming my role as station manger. It wasn't an impressive collection but then most weekend programs didn't have much in the way of programmable music. That's why it was a weekend show: "world beat" probably received scant airtime in an effort to give the community some sort of variety. That, or the station's faculty advisor, Grace Mittendorf, thought it made the station sound more adventurous.
Whatever the reason, it took little effort to realize that this station's definition of "world beat" was reggae music and not much else. I remember making the mistake of asking why we just didn't call the two hours on Saturday night "the Reggae show." Because, I was told, there was more than just reggae played. There was some mbaqanga music from Africa and someone found a Taiko/rap album in the giveaway closet and put it in rotation, too. I then made a second mistake by asking, since there was some non-reggae music, why we didn't make an effort of expanding the non-reggae selections, getting some more sounds from around the world. Because, I was told, that the reggae was what was most popular with listeners and it was the most familiar with the students programming the two hours of music – so what good was it to bring in other discs? I apparently had not learned from my mistakes and asked the first question a second time. It was a cycle, not necessarily vicious, but one I didn't want to pretend to be interested in anymore and so I quickly let the matter drop.
So my exciting exploration in new music focused mostly on reggae. That's hardly a bad thing because there is a lot of good reggae music out there in as many varied forms as there is R&B, folk, and rock forms of music in the United States. Some names are quite prominent and are considered icons of the genre (Bob Marley, for the example), while other bands bring a reggae hybrid to their pop sounds (UB40, maybe).
Jamaican based Freddie McGregor was someone I was not previously aware of but had one of the newer albums in rotation when I showed up. McGregor has been involved with music for decades, having joined his first band (the Clarendonians) at age seven and later scored a series of popular solo albums in the 1980s. McGregor continues to record and produce music; his latest album in 2005’s Comin' in Tough.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I Wish There Was a Way
(Noel Browne/Freddie McGregor)
Freddie McGregor
From the album Masterpiece
1997
Oh, the sisters crying out for a brother’s help
Give a hand if you can, yeah
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
I looked and I behold and saw her peeping through the window
I saw true lovin’ in her eyes, yeah
Right there and then I knew that something was gonna happen
But I couldn’t say what, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Could not be an ordinary feelin’, no, no
It’s coming from deep within, yeah, yeah
Your eyes it shows me so much meanin’
It makes me wonder where it begins, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
Nah-nah-nah-nah, yeah
Oh, the sisters calling out for a brother’s help
Oh, Lord
I looked and I behold and saw her peeping through the window
I saw true lovin’ in her eyes, yeah
Right there and then I knew that something was gonna happen
But I couldn’t say what, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
I looked and I behold and saw her peeping through the window
I saw true loving in her eyes, yeah
Right there and then I knew that something was gonna happen
But I couldn’t say what, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know, I know the way to make that sacrifice
Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind, sister
And I know, I know the way to make that sacrifice
And that's the sort of thing I thought the "world beat" format would be during graduate school. The station boasted its two-hour weekend program of world music, and I started checking out the music soon after assuming my role as station manger. It wasn't an impressive collection but then most weekend programs didn't have much in the way of programmable music. That's why it was a weekend show: "world beat" probably received scant airtime in an effort to give the community some sort of variety. That, or the station's faculty advisor, Grace Mittendorf, thought it made the station sound more adventurous.
Whatever the reason, it took little effort to realize that this station's definition of "world beat" was reggae music and not much else. I remember making the mistake of asking why we just didn't call the two hours on Saturday night "the Reggae show." Because, I was told, there was more than just reggae played. There was some mbaqanga music from Africa and someone found a Taiko/rap album in the giveaway closet and put it in rotation, too. I then made a second mistake by asking, since there was some non-reggae music, why we didn't make an effort of expanding the non-reggae selections, getting some more sounds from around the world. Because, I was told, that the reggae was what was most popular with listeners and it was the most familiar with the students programming the two hours of music – so what good was it to bring in other discs? I apparently had not learned from my mistakes and asked the first question a second time. It was a cycle, not necessarily vicious, but one I didn't want to pretend to be interested in anymore and so I quickly let the matter drop.
So my exciting exploration in new music focused mostly on reggae. That's hardly a bad thing because there is a lot of good reggae music out there in as many varied forms as there is R&B, folk, and rock forms of music in the United States. Some names are quite prominent and are considered icons of the genre (Bob Marley, for the example), while other bands bring a reggae hybrid to their pop sounds (UB40, maybe).
Jamaican based Freddie McGregor was someone I was not previously aware of but had one of the newer albums in rotation when I showed up. McGregor has been involved with music for decades, having joined his first band (the Clarendonians) at age seven and later scored a series of popular solo albums in the 1980s. McGregor continues to record and produce music; his latest album in 2005’s Comin' in Tough.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I Wish There Was a Way
(Noel Browne/Freddie McGregor)
Freddie McGregor
From the album Masterpiece
1997
Oh, the sisters crying out for a brother’s help
Give a hand if you can, yeah
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
I looked and I behold and saw her peeping through the window
I saw true lovin’ in her eyes, yeah
Right there and then I knew that something was gonna happen
But I couldn’t say what, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Could not be an ordinary feelin’, no, no
It’s coming from deep within, yeah, yeah
Your eyes it shows me so much meanin’
It makes me wonder where it begins, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
Nah-nah-nah-nah, yeah
Oh, the sisters calling out for a brother’s help
Oh, Lord
I looked and I behold and saw her peeping through the window
I saw true lovin’ in her eyes, yeah
Right there and then I knew that something was gonna happen
But I couldn’t say what, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
I looked and I behold and saw her peeping through the window
I saw true loving in her eyes, yeah
Right there and then I knew that something was gonna happen
But I couldn’t say what, and I keep thinkin’
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice, oh, Lord
Oh, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know just the way to make that sacrifice
Oh, Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind
And I know, I know the way to make that sacrifice
Lord, I wish, I wish there was a way that I could read your mind, sister
And I know, I know the way to make that sacrifice
Sunday, November 11, 2007
You didn't miss by far, you know you came this close
My undergraduate station played more Thomas Dolby than it probably gave itself credit for. It probably didn’t even know it played that much.
There were the obligatory Science and Hyperactive flashbacks during the rock shifts - but Science didn't age very well and sounded very out of place; few people seemed to remember anything about Hyperactive. There was the occasional modern track, such as the very cool Close but No Cigar, which appeared on one of the old weekly preview discs, but what infrequent airtime it had was diminished when the station received a new computer system and thus never put a lot of songs back into rotation.
Still, no Thomas Dolby song comes to mind at college more than Airhead. Airhead was a featured track on one of those College Music Journal (CMJ) compilation discs, discs that were mostly regulated to the Pit program (see Kill the Crow). I laugh when I hear the song now because while it was never played in its entirety, the song was featured at least four or five times every weekday and I doubt anyone ever knew what song it was.
How?
I made mention that in addition to students preparing news and sports broadcasts, one student was usually charged with the creation and maintenance of the various production components – which for this anecdote meant the news and sports intros. There were two separate, brief introductions consisting of a voice-over-music that allowed a distinct segue from one type of programming into news and sports (see Sleeping Beauty). For reasons never made clear I chose to use Airhead for the sports bed music, mainly because it had a "sound" that broke away from the trend that sports music must sound like something off ESPN. Airhead had a funky keyboard introduction that I thought would be different and become somewhat memorable. I, once again, was right.
The sports introduction was probably no more than 15 seconds, and I had convinced one of the instructors to do the vocals, which were rattled off somewhat quickly before Dolby kicked in the keyboard groove of the song.
The idea was that the music would be faded out as the student read his or her sport stories. And there lies the problem that made this memorable: it was a music bed (see Something Wicked This Way Comes) and with that came the established concept that one would mix the voice over the music. Nevertheless one student (Dustin) always waited until the music faded out into dead air before he said a word. Student management, listening in the station office, took notice of his trend, if only because they had heard countless sportscasts each day and it didn’t take much to notice Dustin was the only one not to talk over the music. We had gotten to the middle of the semester by this point and he had timed himself to only begin talking once the music was about to disappear completely. I don't know why he did this - I don't think it was done to be spiteful. I just don’t think he wanted to. (Did he really need a reason?)
In any case, the hints sent Dustin’s way from the Sports Director and others were not enough to make Dustin "get it" - until the day I changed the introduction. I had gotten some laughs from a few people when I wondered aloud what he would do if the music was lengthened. Would he sit and wait while a three-minute song played? It was all in jest at first, but then I decided to act. Airhead had at least 40 seconds of music before Dolby's vocals kicked in. It would take little effort or time to quickly edit together a new introduction with a longer music bed. Plus, with a little creative editing the instrumental could easily be looped into a piece of music as long as I wanted.
The modified intro was ready for Dustin's next sportscast and a few of us waited in the office to listen as Dustin calmly waited for the music to fade out - but it never did. Awkward, sort of uncomfortable sounds were heard as Dustin waited, but he finally gave in and – probably – began to talk about some national sports story. That then leads to another issue about mixing, this time about the sports staff reporting both local sports stories and national scores. Some people made an effort to make the local high school football games interesting, and others came close – but no cigar.
But Dustin got the hint. Talk about radio silence.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Close but No Cigar
(Thomas Dolby/Lost Toy People)
Thomas Dolby
From the album Astronauts & Heretics
1992
You came close
Close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar
Some people sing love songs
Everybody's got one
This isn't my love song
It's more like my love gone wrong song...
She came to breakfast
And stayed a week
But the lie detectors
Broke down each time she tried to speak
Broke down when she said :
"You came close
Close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar
No matter where you are
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar"
I remember - I remember - I remember
The promise in your eyes
As black as the night I drove you to the airport
And I remember - I remember - I remember
The wide Brazillian sky that swallowed you
Then I hit thirty
Guess I can't complain
But I must have been lonely
The night I bumped into Lorraine
She came for coffee
And stayed all night
But the lie detectors
Broke down every time I tried to smile
Broke down like the store of my life
And each dream I missed by half a mile
Broke down when I told her:
"You came close
close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
close but no cigar
No matter where you are
You know you came so close
Close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar
We're better off by far
But you know we came this close
Close but no cigar
There were the obligatory Science and Hyperactive flashbacks during the rock shifts - but Science didn't age very well and sounded very out of place; few people seemed to remember anything about Hyperactive. There was the occasional modern track, such as the very cool Close but No Cigar, which appeared on one of the old weekly preview discs, but what infrequent airtime it had was diminished when the station received a new computer system and thus never put a lot of songs back into rotation.
Still, no Thomas Dolby song comes to mind at college more than Airhead. Airhead was a featured track on one of those College Music Journal (CMJ) compilation discs, discs that were mostly regulated to the Pit program (see Kill the Crow). I laugh when I hear the song now because while it was never played in its entirety, the song was featured at least four or five times every weekday and I doubt anyone ever knew what song it was.
How?
I made mention that in addition to students preparing news and sports broadcasts, one student was usually charged with the creation and maintenance of the various production components – which for this anecdote meant the news and sports intros. There were two separate, brief introductions consisting of a voice-over-music that allowed a distinct segue from one type of programming into news and sports (see Sleeping Beauty). For reasons never made clear I chose to use Airhead for the sports bed music, mainly because it had a "sound" that broke away from the trend that sports music must sound like something off ESPN. Airhead had a funky keyboard introduction that I thought would be different and become somewhat memorable. I, once again, was right.
The sports introduction was probably no more than 15 seconds, and I had convinced one of the instructors to do the vocals, which were rattled off somewhat quickly before Dolby kicked in the keyboard groove of the song.
The idea was that the music would be faded out as the student read his or her sport stories. And there lies the problem that made this memorable: it was a music bed (see Something Wicked This Way Comes) and with that came the established concept that one would mix the voice over the music. Nevertheless one student (Dustin) always waited until the music faded out into dead air before he said a word. Student management, listening in the station office, took notice of his trend, if only because they had heard countless sportscasts each day and it didn’t take much to notice Dustin was the only one not to talk over the music. We had gotten to the middle of the semester by this point and he had timed himself to only begin talking once the music was about to disappear completely. I don't know why he did this - I don't think it was done to be spiteful. I just don’t think he wanted to. (Did he really need a reason?)
In any case, the hints sent Dustin’s way from the Sports Director and others were not enough to make Dustin "get it" - until the day I changed the introduction. I had gotten some laughs from a few people when I wondered aloud what he would do if the music was lengthened. Would he sit and wait while a three-minute song played? It was all in jest at first, but then I decided to act. Airhead had at least 40 seconds of music before Dolby's vocals kicked in. It would take little effort or time to quickly edit together a new introduction with a longer music bed. Plus, with a little creative editing the instrumental could easily be looped into a piece of music as long as I wanted.
The modified intro was ready for Dustin's next sportscast and a few of us waited in the office to listen as Dustin calmly waited for the music to fade out - but it never did. Awkward, sort of uncomfortable sounds were heard as Dustin waited, but he finally gave in and – probably – began to talk about some national sports story. That then leads to another issue about mixing, this time about the sports staff reporting both local sports stories and national scores. Some people made an effort to make the local high school football games interesting, and others came close – but no cigar.
But Dustin got the hint. Talk about radio silence.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Close but No Cigar
(Thomas Dolby/Lost Toy People)
Thomas Dolby
From the album Astronauts & Heretics
1992
You came close
Close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar
Some people sing love songs
Everybody's got one
This isn't my love song
It's more like my love gone wrong song...
She came to breakfast
And stayed a week
But the lie detectors
Broke down each time she tried to speak
Broke down when she said :
"You came close
Close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar
No matter where you are
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar"
I remember - I remember - I remember
The promise in your eyes
As black as the night I drove you to the airport
And I remember - I remember - I remember
The wide Brazillian sky that swallowed you
Then I hit thirty
Guess I can't complain
But I must have been lonely
The night I bumped into Lorraine
She came for coffee
And stayed all night
But the lie detectors
Broke down every time I tried to smile
Broke down like the store of my life
And each dream I missed by half a mile
Broke down when I told her:
"You came close
close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
close but no cigar
No matter where you are
You know you came so close
Close but no cigar
You didn't miss by far
You know you came this close
Close but no cigar
We're better off by far
But you know we came this close
Close but no cigar
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