“Push back against the age as hard as it pushes against you.”— Flannery O’Connor
Showing posts with label Top-40. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Top-40. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 07, 2018
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Plunging into the ruined, moldy heart of a metaphor
Vintage FCC 'history card' for WJAR radio
Last month, an urban explorer trekked into the wilds of East Providence, R.I., in search of adventure and long-abandoned places.
Wielding nothing but a video camera and a respirator, "RnK All Day" brought his YouTube viewers along as he pored through the ruins of radio stations WHJJ, WHJY (94 HJY) and WSNE that once broadcast from the crumbling building at 115 Eastern Ave. He got more than he bargained for -- as did we.
What the intrepid archaeologist of urban abandonment found was a moldering, unsealed time capsule of mid-market AM and FM radio, circa 2002. It almost seemed as if, going on a couple of decades ago, the DJ on 94 HJY was playing Lenny Kravitz's latest CD while the talk guy on WHJJ argued with a caller about George W. Bush . . . and then the apocalypse.
The lights blinked. The phone went dead. A blinding flash. Someone spied a mushroom cloud in the distance.
Then everyone ran from the building, in a panic and in search of a fallout shelter. No one ever came back.
Yes, scavengers would go through the place from time to time. But they were looking for canned goods, cash and booze. Maybe some forgotten weed from the HJY wing. Broadcast electronics held no attraction for nuclear survivors worried more by the threat of irradiated zombies.
Fate had left these postmodern ruins amazingly intact, save for the smashed windows, some trashed rooms . . . and the mold that was everywhere.
THIS WAS the result of no nuclear detonation and the sudden collapse of civilization, though. This was another kind of apocalypse -- a corporate apocalypse.
There were no glowing zombies staggering through deserted streets searching in vain for human brains. The survivors of this apocalypse were the ones who brought it about -- the business-attired men and women walking crisply through cubicled offices in search of shareholder value.
Sometimes, they spat out glib clichés about "thinking outside the box" and "It is what it is." Other times, they merely moaned "EBITA! EBITA!"
A few years ago, one of this country's tens of thousands of "downsized" (or "right-sized" . . . or "redundant" . . . or "laid off" . . . or whatever) radio professionals -- I was told it was a disc jockey fired about 2003 -- cornered a regional program director outside the offices of a "station cluster." He just wanted answers to a few questions.
Would he ever feel useful again?
Was his training -- were his talents -- now useless?
The man in business casual was silent.
"Will I ever fucking work in my profession again!?"
Quoth the Craven "Nevermore."
Yet the suits could move three stations out of one building into another building with new equipment . . . and just abandon all the old. Utterly. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, at the time, of "utterly."
That waste represents "shareholder value," no doubt. Efficiency and belt-tightening, don't you know?
OK, I LIED about the tale of the questioning DJ. I don't know that it happened. I'll bet it probably did somewhere, however. I didn't lie about the apocalypse part. What's befallen radio -- and to a lesser extent, TV -- since the Telecommunications Act of 1996 ushered in the Lord of the Flies is an apocalypse. In ancient Greek, "apocalypse" meant "an unveiling." In modern English, it can mean a prophetic revelation . . . or an inferno . . . or a great disaster.
The tens upon tens of thousands of cashiered broadcasters say, "Take your pick, man. Hard to go wrong." And millions of listeners across the land might agree.
Once, WHJJ was a big deal in Providence. Before 1980, the call letters were WJAR, and for much of its history, it was a pretty big deal in the Northeast. After first taking the air in 1922, WJAR became a charter affiliate of the National Broadcasting Co., in November 1926.
And legendary NBC announcer Don Pardo (of Saturday Night Live and every-damn-thing-else fame) got his start at WJAR in 1938.
SO LOOK at the mysteriously, confoundingly abandoned studios, once the pre-ruinous home to the jewels of the Franks Broadcasting Co., Inc., beginning in 1980. Before Franks Broadcasting, the old WJAR was the pride of The Outlet Company.
Outlet owned WJAR for six decades. Franks owned it for a few years. Then it gets consolidatingly confusing until you end up at iHeartMedia, a crapload of assumed debt and -- how do they put it? Ah . . . yes. Efficiencies, economies of scale, elimination of redundancies and . . . "right-sizing."
It sounds so much better than "You're fired." But it still means "apocalypse." And the abandoned, fully equipped ruins in East Providence still make for a hell of a metaphor for an entire ruined industry and an entire unraveling country.
What you hear wafting across the ether today is substantively denuded. The happy-clappy corporate speak of besuited Visigoths is risible -- especially if you jack up your eyelids with toothpicks, turn your radio on and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to the stupid in the air.
. . . and listen to th. . . .
SORRY. The program server had a bit of a meltdown, nobody's in the building after 5, and I had to drive in from home to reboot it.
Next time that happens, just go online and call up the iHeart station in (fill in the blank). It's playing the same damn thing -- probably at the same damn time. How're you liking those "economies of scale"?
The legions of former radio people -- the first casualties in the apocalypse, the ghosts inhabiting our East Providence metaphor in ruins, the men and women who have radio in their blood and nowhere to show it, the ones who talk incessantly about the old days on Facebook because there are no more new days -- they're not liking those "economies of scale" at all.
And they don't much care for your station, or for bombed-out radio studios full of perfectly good equipment being perfectly ruined.
Neither, I suspect, do they care for metaphors. Unfortunately, it seems as if metaphors are the only damned thing we have left in this sad, sad land.
Don't forget to call in your request to the studio line. No one will answer.
Labels:
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Friday, April 29, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Boogity boogity shoop
This week's edition of the Big Show is all about the stomp.
And the waltz.
And the mope-itty mope, mope-itty mope mope mope.
Well, yeah, we also have some boom boom-ba-booms and some sha-na-nas on 3 Chords & the Truth as well this go around, but you probably already figured that was coming. It's a diverse and eclectic cornucopia, I tells ya!
So pull up a chair. Take your shoes off. And enjoy what's about to caress your eardrums.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Saturday, April 16, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Never fear, the King is here
"And that's the evening news for tonight. I'll see you again Monday on. . . ."
Click.
Wall. Head. Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
Click. Thunk. Crackle crackle.
Muss i denn, muss i denn
Zum Stadtele hinaus
Stadtele hinaus
Und du, mein schat, bleibst hier?
There's no strings upon this love of mineThank you, Elvis. Thank you, 3 Chords & the Truth.
It was always you from the start
Sei mir gut
Sei mir gut
Sei mir wie du wirklich sollst
Wie du wirklich sollst
'Cause I don't have a wooden heart
Save yourself. Listen to the Big Show.
A big smile's just a click away. Be there. Auf Wiedersehen.
Saturday, April 09, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: If we make it through December
I keep thinking "If we make it through December. . . ."
But then somebody else -- yet another giant -- dies. And we're yet again musically orphaned. This sucks.
This got old long ago. 2016 is a very, very bad year.
And this time, it's the great Merle Haggard. Anymore, what can you even say? You just start repeating yourself while merely swapping out the name of one legend for another.
So . . . once again we merely pay humble tribute. To Merle.
And I think I'm gonna just sit here and drink.
MEANTIME, we have some other stuff going for you on this edition of 3 Chords & the Truth, including a really wild set later on in the show. In other words, the usual eclectic and cool stuff you've come to associate with the Big Show.
Umm hmm.
Listen to the program. It's good.
And that's about all I have to say about that.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Labels:
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Saturday, March 19, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Getting away from it all
The hippies had their Summer of Love.
We have our Spring of Hate.
I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get away from it all. Methinks the Big Show might be just the vehicle for that. I've got a giant suitcase full of music from happier times, and I'm getting ready to blow this pop stand.
And there's plenty of room for you to tag along. Let's go, shall we?
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Sunday, March 13, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: The Producer
This week's edition of the Big Show can be described in two words.
One name.
George Martin.
If you don't know George Martin, or why we mark his passing by playing the music he touched, shaped, molded for decades, you're about to get an education in sound. If you do know the work of this producer's producer, you mourn the unfathomable loss with us at 3 Chords & the Truth as we celebrate the immeasurable musical legacy.
Sir George was the Fifth Beatle . . . and so much more.
Today, the program is his.
Today, the cultural birthright is ours.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Labels:
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Saturday, March 05, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Schwing states
I messed up.
I watched the latest Republican presidential debate.
Donald Trump made sure everyone knew there was "no problem" with the size of his hands . . . or his penis. This happened.
The candidates also yelled at each other a lot.
NEEDLESS to say, I can't quite get the vision of this out of my brain. Yet I still had to do another episode of 3 Chords & the Truth, and I'm told it's bad to get too political on the radio . . . or the Internet facsimile thereof.
So I did my best.
But . . . GOD ALMIGHTY, A PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE ALLUDED TO THE SIZE OF HIS TALLYWHACKER ON NATIONAL TV!
Among other things.
I guess what I'm saying is this edition of the Big Show may have gotten a little interesting. I spin the stacks of groovy wax; you decide.
Whatever.
IT'S 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Friday, February 26, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Shtick happens. Or not.
I looked and looked and looked for a gimmick, a theme, a shtick for this week's episode of the Big Show.
I got nothin'.
So this week's 3 Chords & the Truth will be completely shtick-free. No gimmicks. No overarching theme. No cutesy-pie crapola. Just me and you . . . and the music.
One hopes that will be enough. It ought to, you know? Because aren't we all getting tired of people's shticks?
That is all.
Just listen to the unvarnished program, if you please. It's here. Or down there. Or over there.
So . . . it's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all, Be there. Aloha.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Sackcloth and smashes
OK, now it's Lent. The season of penance.
But that doesn't mean we have to be miserable. This is no time to be a gloomy Gus.
Remember, nowhere does it say "Thou shalt be a mope." So we're not, because -- dang it -- this is the Big Show!
And we at 3 Chords & the Truth will meet Lent with music. Good music.
And so will you. All thou needest to do is hearken and findeth thou joy.
God said.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Saturday, February 06, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Play me somethin', Mister!
Throw you somethin'?
You want me to throw you somethin'?
All right, I'm gonna throw you somethin'. Can you handle what I'm gonna throw you?
It's Mardi Gras time, and we're gonna throw lots at you on the Big Show. And you can even keep your shirt on.
We may be partying, but we're not louts.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
And jockamo fe-na-nay.
Labels:
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Saturday, January 30, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: . . . and Myron Floren is his prophet
In the Age of Trump, when bomb squads are poring over band rooms because of apparent IEAs -- improvised explosive accordions -- it is time to take drastic measures.
Repeat after me on 3 Chords & the Truth. . . .
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
Again. . . .
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
There is no Welk but Welk, and Myron Floren is his prophet.
Now. . . .
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
AGAIN. . . .
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
This is a bomb; this is an accordion.
THIS WEEK on the Big Show, we step away from the stupid. And while we're at it, we'll step toward the calm, the cultured and the classy.
Apparently, we are in great need of that.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Saturday, January 23, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: The sad café
There's a new kid in town in rock 'n' roll heaven, and we're not feeling too good ourselves.
So, yes, we'll be playing some Eagles -- and, thus, Glenn Frey -- on 3 Chords & the Truth this week as we chug Geritol as the records play. Because old. And tired blood.
Apart from that, I just don't know what to say about the Big Show. There's the Eagles stuff, and there's lots of good music, as always, and we have a nifty set from the ladies of jazz.
THERE probably is more to be said about the program this go around, but I lack the energy to say it.
Really. I mean, are you unpoopular? Do you pop out at parties? Then pass the nutritional supplements from the left hand side. That is all.
No, really. I'm tired. And old. Just listen to the show, will ya?
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Life on Mars
It's on Amerika's tortured brow . . .
That Mickey Mouse
has grown up a cow
Now the workers
have struck for fame
'Cause Lennon's on sale again
See the mice in their million hordes
From Ibeza to the Norfolk Broads
Rule Britannia is out of bounds
To my mother, my dog, and clowns
But the film is a saddening bore
'Cause I wrote it
ten times or more
It's about to be writ again
As I ask you to focus on
Sailors fighting in the dance hall
Oh man!
Look at those cavemen go
It's the freakiest show
Take a look at the Lawman
Beating up the wrong guy
Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know
He's in the best selling show
Is there life on Mars?
GOOD QUESTION. I got no answer, but then again we've all been feeling a little lost this week.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, and this week we're all about what you probably think we're about. Remembering David Bowie. And wondering whether there's life on Mars.
Be there. Aloha.
Labels:
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Saturday, January 09, 2016
3 Chords & the Truth: Take it easy
Re-entry's a bitch.
Re-entry, as in the holidays are done, pretty much, and it's time to get back to the daily grind . . . AND I DON'T WANNA!
That's where we are here in 3 Chords & the Truth land, so here's the game plan: Gonna ease into it. Gonna be mellow.
Have you never been mellow?
Have you never tried to find a comfort from inside you?
Have you never been happy just to hear your song?
Have you never let someone else be strong?
So, won't you join me on the Big Show? We can be mellow. Or whatever. Can't rush these re-entry things.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Labels:
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Saturday, December 05, 2015
3 Chords & the Truth: Dead on target
This week on the Big Show, we take dead aim on who and what we are as Americans.
And I think we've picked some songs that hit the target.
Of course 3 Chords & the Truth, hits the musical bullseye every week, but this episode draws a bead on something specific about American culture these days. Something we just love to death.
Or is it that we love death? Oh, well. Whatever.
ALSO ON the program this week, we have a little of this and a little of that, and we also start rolling out the Christmas music now that we have achieved bleak midwinter-ish.
And that's all we have to say about that. The Big Show, that is.
So. . . .
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
Friday, November 06, 2015
3 Chords & the Truth: Stacks o' shellac
This week on the Big Show, we're up to our @$$ in stacks of vintage shellac.
Shellac? Let me explain: Before there was vinyl, there was shellac. As in 78 r.p.m. records.
Way back there then, before the advent of the long-play record, a.k.a. the "LP," a record album was just that -- an album of four or five 78s. When LPs ascended and 78s eventually disappeared, the name stuck. Thus, a single LP, cassette, CD or group of digital downloads is an "album" to this day.
We're going to be playing some stuff off of albums this week on 3 Chords & the Truth. Album albums, not the faux albums we've become accustomed to the past 60 years. One of the albums features one legend and his orchestra playing the music of another legend -- Paul Whiteman, the guy who brought George Gershwin to prominence by commissioning a work called "Rhapsody in Blue," does Irving Berlin, author of huge swaths of the "American Songbook."
IT'S GREAT MUSIC. It's history. It's part of our culture and our national DNA. It's on the Big Show, and it's just a click away. Maybe two, if that's how you roll.
Of course, that's just one middling-sized part of the show this week -- we're nothing if not eclectic and full of surprises around the studio here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska. And believe me, there's plenty of amazing stuff on the program this week . . . and every week.
And it's all yours for the taking for the low, low price of nothing. It's free. All you have to do is click. Or download. Or whatever.
Now get to it. There's a world of music waiting for you here.
It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.
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