I suppose this is yet another step down the road to old farthood, the compulsion to tell the young'uns how much better it was back when we were whippersnappers. Some of that is, undeniably, bullshit. The thing about how special radio once was -- especially that brief moment where freeform radio shined -- definitely is not.
This week, I find myself thinking of my first encounters with enlightenment, my early forays into subversion of the constipated world The Man desperately was trying to foist upon my young self all those years ago. And remembering lying in bed out at our camp in south Louisiana, which was within the range of the glorious FM signal of Rampart 102 in New Orleans, WWL-FM.
I'D LIKE to think 3 Chords & the Truth carries the torch today for that lost moment in time -- the subversive moment, not the reactionary one. The reactionaries today have no problem carrying their own torches. Literally.
If you'd like to authentically relive the 1971 experience of kids like me, surreptitiously listening to The Music of Which Your Parents Would Not Approve, the music that would get your ass labeled an Enemy of Right Thinkin' (say this in your head with a Southern accent), you'll listen to the Big Show late at night, in bed, under the covers, with an earphone to hide your inner subversiveness from the agents of repression.
For the full glory of the music, however, I recommend a good stereo system or listening through good headphones -- not crappy earbuds.
And remember the days when listening to the radio -- listening to the FM radio -- could be an enlightening experience, a chance to connect with that late-night radio host, sitting with an audio board and a couple of turntables in a darkened studio somewhere in the ether, through the music. It was a supremely human thing.
It's Rampart 102 . . . er . . . 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
