Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here (click to listen)
I'd think it's likely that everyone, everywhere, probably has some kind of story dealing with this song. No matter where it's played, someone will undoubtedly chime in with "this song reminds me of when..." and then there's stories galore, some happy, some sad, some altogether worthless. But stories, stories as far as the ear can hear. Ironic, then, that the song be one of such solitude and detachment, when it has the power to bring everyone together. Maybe that was their intention all along?
But this song reminds me of when I was a junior in high school. We had a radio station at my school, nothing formal, and actually it was quite illegal the way we ran it. We were transmitting at very low power, on a frequency that we had no legal claim to, and the studio was simply a room in the cafeteria that had been allocated for one of our electronics classes. The setup was no more than two CD players, a tape deck, two microphones and a four channel mixing board, but it was fun (and pretty advanced for being free radio in high school). The station only really lasted for two or so years, my last two years of high school. I prefer to assume that it fell apart without my presence, however true that may be. It's nice to dream about being that important.
One day after school, I was hanging out in the station during a friend's show, waiting for my then-girlfriend to get out of whatever after-school activity she was involved in. It was a lazy afternoon in the spring, not too warm or cold outside, and no real need to be anywhere. I was laying on the couch, not really talking to him and just relaxing, when he put the song on. I had never really heard it before. I guess that's not true, really, as a song like this is never heard for the "first" time. I guess it would be more accurate to say that I really listened to it for the first time. At the time I didn't know the story behind the song; barely knew the names Syd Barrett or Gilmour or Waters. But something about it resonated within me, perhaps the distance, the detachment.
I wouldn't say that listening to it that day made me feel alone, or abandoned. More than anything, it just left me wanting... something. Some kind of connection, something to attach to. But there wasn't anything, not then. I laid there, staring at the ceiling, for what must have been ten or twenty minutes before anyone said anything again. Something about that song had taken the wind out of both of us, removed that standard chatter that happens just when time passes. Eventually, the girl I was waiting for showed up, and she sat down on the couch with me. I held her hand for a while, just wanting to feel that connection. The warmth. And it was there, and eventually things felt right again.
She left me that summer, right near my birthday, either over the phone or by letter or by some other distant method. One present I got that year, turning 17, was a CD copy of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" LP. Even though I couldn't bear to listen to the title track, I put it in my CD player anyway and let it wash over me. The distance was what I felt more than anything else; that, and the subtle beauty of it all. It was the first time I was freshly alone, and it just felt... right somehow, to listen to that album, then, when I felt it the deepest.
Today, when I hear the song, I know the story behind the album, and the mysterious circumstances surrounding its recording, the album's intention to describe the detachment of society at the time, and any number of other "meanings" put forth by the band. But whenever I talk to anyone about it, they always have their own story. So if you've got a story having to do with this song, and I don't doubt that you do, please share it here. Share it with me, and with the other readers. Help us all find solace in the fact that such a desolate sound can bring people together.
Plug in, and turn it up....
Monday, January 29, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Amplify Your Airwaves
I'm starting a new feature here. With each entry, you can click on the song to download it. Convenient! Now you don't have to hum along to get the real feeling.
Killing Joke - The Death and Resurrection Show
It's somewhat hard to believe that I would come across a song like this, never mind enjoy it and play it regularly. Most people assume I stay away from the heavy stuff; things with loud guitars and massive drums. But everyone has an angry music phase, and I'm no exception.
I didn't know much about the realms of independent music when I started as a DJ on the college radio station, WUVT. Sure, I thought I did - and I probably knew more than most people. But I had never heard of many bands that are staples of my ears these days: Belle & Sebastian or The Dismemberment Plan come to mind. I didn't know about independent record labels like Touch & Go, Quarterstick, The Militia Group, Ipecac, or any number of other ones that couldn't be found at the local Wal-Mart. So joining up with WUVT gave me a chance to explore things I'd never heard of, or even never though to look for before.
My first show on the station was on our AM sister station, sort of a training grounds before people moved up to FM. I got there early that day, and I wandered around the station a bit to acquaint myself with the new surroundings. I gazed through thousands upon thousands of albums, looking for anything that sounded familiar. While flipping through albums in our newly added shelf (which we call rotation), I happened across this album that said it guested Dave Grohl on drums. I thought "why not? I like the Foo Fighters. This couldn't be much different, right?"
Yeah. Right.
I started off the show safely, with a Verve Pipe track. Nervously, I took the microphone from time to time to tell everyone what it was they'd just heard (if anyone was even listening). About 20 minutes into the show, I remembered that album, what was it again? Killing Joke. Ha, that sounds intense. Well, I'd never really considered Dave Grohl's affinity for the harder stuff before. I popped it into CD2, cued the track up, and faded in. Within the first few seconds of "Ja-jug ja-jug-jug" crunchy guitars, I knew I was finding something new for myself. This was what I came to this station for! This is what independent music was all about! Something I hadn't heard before. Something... edgy.
From there on out, I was always in that rotation section, looking for what was new and would turn my ears just the right way. I found a lot of good music on that shelf - Laguardia, Apollo Sunshine, Wesafari, Danielson, Anathallo, Sufjan Stevens... honestly the list could go on and on. Very few things ever packed quite the same punch as that one Killing Joke track that I stumbled upon one day.
And it would come back around again, from time to time. Several years later, just a few weeks ago now, I was hanging out with the WUVT staff (of which I'm now a part) in our office, and we decided that it was time to forcefully remove a piece of furniture from the studio. There was a couch there, one that had been there since long before any of us had started, and its time had definitely come. Who knew what kinds of things had happened on that couch, or the things that could be growing inside it. It needed to go. And it just so happened, as we grabbed saws and started kicking at armrests, that the song came over the airwaves. I had pre-recorded a show with the station's music director, and we had tossed The Death and Resurrection Show in the middle somewhere, just to turn it up a notch. And it couldn't have come up at a more fitting time, as we destroyed that decrepid old rack.
Removing it was also just another step in the rebirth of WUVT, something that's been going on all year. The station had stagnated some in previous years, and this year's staff was finally getting things done. We were scheduling regular concerts, gaining visibility in the community, there was a new promotions campaign... and then, over winter break, the station was struck with a major setback. Our transmitter started having problems, major problems, and our reach was crippled. Barely able to broadcast outside the town, we were unsure what to do. But something interesting happened - our staff worked twice, three times as hard as they had before (which was already a monumental effort) to get the word out about our situation.
And amazingly, people listened.
Something we hadn't really counted on was how well our cries would be heard by alumni, connections, friends of friends, and others. Our station's online stream was still getting the signal out. And it still is. As it stands now, we've made extraordinary progress in just a few short weeks. The road from here isn't going to get any easier, and we've still got a heck of way to go in rebuilding the station and our transmitter. But there's something about WUVT that just can't be held down, it seems - something edgy, something in the way the staff is always looking to try something new to get noticed. It's what independent radio is all about.
Talk about your resurrections.
Plug in, and turn it up...
For information about how you can help WUVT get back on the air and back to full power, PLEASE visit our website at www.wuvt.vt.edu. Thank you for your support!
Killing Joke - The Death and Resurrection Show
It's somewhat hard to believe that I would come across a song like this, never mind enjoy it and play it regularly. Most people assume I stay away from the heavy stuff; things with loud guitars and massive drums. But everyone has an angry music phase, and I'm no exception.
I didn't know much about the realms of independent music when I started as a DJ on the college radio station, WUVT. Sure, I thought I did - and I probably knew more than most people. But I had never heard of many bands that are staples of my ears these days: Belle & Sebastian or The Dismemberment Plan come to mind. I didn't know about independent record labels like Touch & Go, Quarterstick, The Militia Group, Ipecac, or any number of other ones that couldn't be found at the local Wal-Mart. So joining up with WUVT gave me a chance to explore things I'd never heard of, or even never though to look for before.
My first show on the station was on our AM sister station, sort of a training grounds before people moved up to FM. I got there early that day, and I wandered around the station a bit to acquaint myself with the new surroundings. I gazed through thousands upon thousands of albums, looking for anything that sounded familiar. While flipping through albums in our newly added shelf (which we call rotation), I happened across this album that said it guested Dave Grohl on drums. I thought "why not? I like the Foo Fighters. This couldn't be much different, right?"
Yeah. Right.
I started off the show safely, with a Verve Pipe track. Nervously, I took the microphone from time to time to tell everyone what it was they'd just heard (if anyone was even listening). About 20 minutes into the show, I remembered that album, what was it again? Killing Joke. Ha, that sounds intense. Well, I'd never really considered Dave Grohl's affinity for the harder stuff before. I popped it into CD2, cued the track up, and faded in. Within the first few seconds of "Ja-jug ja-jug-jug" crunchy guitars, I knew I was finding something new for myself. This was what I came to this station for! This is what independent music was all about! Something I hadn't heard before. Something... edgy.
From there on out, I was always in that rotation section, looking for what was new and would turn my ears just the right way. I found a lot of good music on that shelf - Laguardia, Apollo Sunshine, Wesafari, Danielson, Anathallo, Sufjan Stevens... honestly the list could go on and on. Very few things ever packed quite the same punch as that one Killing Joke track that I stumbled upon one day.
And it would come back around again, from time to time. Several years later, just a few weeks ago now, I was hanging out with the WUVT staff (of which I'm now a part) in our office, and we decided that it was time to forcefully remove a piece of furniture from the studio. There was a couch there, one that had been there since long before any of us had started, and its time had definitely come. Who knew what kinds of things had happened on that couch, or the things that could be growing inside it. It needed to go. And it just so happened, as we grabbed saws and started kicking at armrests, that the song came over the airwaves. I had pre-recorded a show with the station's music director, and we had tossed The Death and Resurrection Show in the middle somewhere, just to turn it up a notch. And it couldn't have come up at a more fitting time, as we destroyed that decrepid old rack.
Removing it was also just another step in the rebirth of WUVT, something that's been going on all year. The station had stagnated some in previous years, and this year's staff was finally getting things done. We were scheduling regular concerts, gaining visibility in the community, there was a new promotions campaign... and then, over winter break, the station was struck with a major setback. Our transmitter started having problems, major problems, and our reach was crippled. Barely able to broadcast outside the town, we were unsure what to do. But something interesting happened - our staff worked twice, three times as hard as they had before (which was already a monumental effort) to get the word out about our situation.
And amazingly, people listened.
Something we hadn't really counted on was how well our cries would be heard by alumni, connections, friends of friends, and others. Our station's online stream was still getting the signal out. And it still is. As it stands now, we've made extraordinary progress in just a few short weeks. The road from here isn't going to get any easier, and we've still got a heck of way to go in rebuilding the station and our transmitter. But there's something about WUVT that just can't be held down, it seems - something edgy, something in the way the staff is always looking to try something new to get noticed. It's what independent radio is all about.
Talk about your resurrections.
Plug in, and turn it up...
For information about how you can help WUVT get back on the air and back to full power, PLEASE visit our website at www.wuvt.vt.edu. Thank you for your support!
Friday, January 12, 2007
Cold Mornings and Colder Air
Eef Barzelay - Thanksgiving Waves
Something happened to me for the last few months, I guess. I got all wrapped up in work, and I went to Australia, and then to Illinois, and along the way I forgot to update. Or didn't have time to update, I'm not really sure. That's not to say I have tons of free time now either, but at least it's a start.
Work is what this recollection comes down to, anyway. It's a recent memory, only within the last year. But it's vivid and every time I listen to this track I can feel the bitter cold air of 5am as I walked down darkened streets, ones that I got to know too well. I would walk to work to open the store several days a week, since I didn't have a car yet and it was really close. And even though it was late spring and early summer, it was still rather brisk that early - probably the coldest time of day, as the earth had cooled down after hiding from the sun for enough hours.
The sparsity of the song really fit my walk well, and it usually came up on shuffle on the walk there. It's sparse, just guitar and voice, two more sounds than the nearly none I'd be hearing without them. Eef's haunting voice cracking in my ears and that crisp, clear acoustic guitar getting played to death as it builds to a crescendo........ then breaks and fades.
Waves.
Life really moves like the ocean, I think sometimes. A lot - a whole lot - has happened to me in the six months I've neglected this, the project I was once so rabid about. But then, how different is the me of now from the me of then? I'm busier. I have more responsibility at work. My keychain is bigger. I have a car to get me to my new store across town.
But every now and then, Eef Barzelay comes on during my drive in on 5am mornings, as the air outside is well below freezing and far colder than any I'd walked in that summer. And I have to wonder to myself if anything's really changed, if anything ever really changes. Or maybe in advancing, I just end up making the same steps again, just somewhere different.
One would only assume the tide is rising. But I can never really know for sure.
Plug in, and turn it up...
Something happened to me for the last few months, I guess. I got all wrapped up in work, and I went to Australia, and then to Illinois, and along the way I forgot to update. Or didn't have time to update, I'm not really sure. That's not to say I have tons of free time now either, but at least it's a start.
Work is what this recollection comes down to, anyway. It's a recent memory, only within the last year. But it's vivid and every time I listen to this track I can feel the bitter cold air of 5am as I walked down darkened streets, ones that I got to know too well. I would walk to work to open the store several days a week, since I didn't have a car yet and it was really close. And even though it was late spring and early summer, it was still rather brisk that early - probably the coldest time of day, as the earth had cooled down after hiding from the sun for enough hours.
The sparsity of the song really fit my walk well, and it usually came up on shuffle on the walk there. It's sparse, just guitar and voice, two more sounds than the nearly none I'd be hearing without them. Eef's haunting voice cracking in my ears and that crisp, clear acoustic guitar getting played to death as it builds to a crescendo........ then breaks and fades.
Waves.
Life really moves like the ocean, I think sometimes. A lot - a whole lot - has happened to me in the six months I've neglected this, the project I was once so rabid about. But then, how different is the me of now from the me of then? I'm busier. I have more responsibility at work. My keychain is bigger. I have a car to get me to my new store across town.
But every now and then, Eef Barzelay comes on during my drive in on 5am mornings, as the air outside is well below freezing and far colder than any I'd walked in that summer. And I have to wonder to myself if anything's really changed, if anything ever really changes. Or maybe in advancing, I just end up making the same steps again, just somewhere different.
One would only assume the tide is rising. But I can never really know for sure.
Plug in, and turn it up...
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