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skwantz
26 March 2010 @ 11:51 am
The WOXY/Squance continuum: a Timeline

1983: After a year of broadcasting, WOXY at 97.7 changes its format to modern rock and the Future of Rock N Roll is officially born to U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday."

I am only 9 and pay it no attention. However, I do tune in on sundays for Dr. Demento.

1989: I'm a freshman in high school, member of the marching band. I make new friends and they're all music nerds, skate rats, alternapunks, and smellers. I'm deep into my classic rock phase, I love the Black Crowes. But I'm exposed now to the spirit of 97x. I still resist, but it doesn't last.

1991: Pearl Jam releases Ten and BLOWS MY MIND. The paradigm shifts. I reject The Doors and embrace grunge. It's not completely alternative, but now I'm pointed in that direction. 97x plays "Evenflo" pretty regularly, and "Once," and I'm open to new sounds.

1992: Catherine Wheel releases Ferment and 97x starts spinning "Black Metallic." It BLOWS MY MIND. 

I'm working summers full-time, pulling weeds and trimming bushes and mowing grass. The people I work with--older, cooler--listen to 97x all day long.

1993: I graduate, move to Athens, outside of WOXY's broadcast signal. I also start smoking pot, and get really into Pink Floyd. I discover Phish, but also Soundgarden. It's weird. I buy Gish because I miss my friends, I ask for Ritual de lo Habitual for christmas and All Things Must Pass. My tastes are all over the place.

1994: I meet musicians, start playing out. I listen to whatever they listen to: Dave Matthews Band, The Samples, lots and lots of Phish. I begin my OU jam phase in earnest.

Summers, it's back to 97x 8 hours a day. I'm listening to Porno for Pyros, Poi Dog Pondering. I'm reintroduced to Material Issue after a long hiatus and actually win tickets to see them play at First Run in Oxford. I visit 97x's studio for the first and only time. It's tiny and awesome.

Clare urges me to listen to the Modern Rock 500 every May, which catches me up on the fundamentals: The Smiths, Echo & the Bunnymen, Joy Division, Elvis Costello, REM, etc.

1997: Radiohead releases OK Computer and BLOWS MY MIND. This album, along with Whatever and Ever, Amen mark the beginning of the end of the jam band era.

1998: I graduate OU, move to Cincinnati, get a job job. I play some music still, but it recedes into the background as I focus on work...

WOXY begins its simulcast on the web.

2002/03: I'm deeply unhappy with how my time is spent. I've left one publishing company for another and am bored beyond comprehension. I take stock, realize that all the things I loved, that I was passionate about, I've left behind, that I've been investing huge blocks of my time and energy into work that does not interest me in the least. I vow to reignite passion, first and foremost by reengaging with new music. Step one: I listen to 97x during my commute and at work, now via internet. My modern rock renaissance begins. I discover Sigur Ros, Doves, Jeff Buckley (!), Metric, My Morning Jacket, Mellowdrone, etc. I spend a lot of time on Limewire. I exchange music nonstop with my friend, Chris Miller, who figures out a way to record KEXP's high bit rate, CD quality, live web stream.

December 2003: The owners of 97x, Doug and Linda Balogh, are pointed out to me at a wine tasting fundraiser at Millet Hall. I want to say hi, but don't.

January 2004: The Balogh's announce the sale of 97.7 on the terrestrial dial. They retain WOXY.com, their complete library, and the name 97x, but the radio signal will disappear. I want to go back in time to December 2003 and kick Doug Balogh in the sack.

May 2004: 97x plays nearly every song in their archive in alphabetical order, which takes a week. I get many hours of it recorded on cassette, even going home at lunch (an hour round trip) just to flip the tape. They spin Doves' "The Last Broadcast" and the signal from 97.7 goes dark at midnight. By morning, 97x has been replaced with a corporate nu-rock station that makes my arteries clog.

July 2004: WOXY.com relocates to Longworth Hall in Cincinnati and resumes its broadcast as an online radio station, reborn to "Orpheus" by Ash.

I quit my job, we sell our house, and move back to Oxford for the first time since 1993. 97x-less, Oxford seems a slightly different place. I miss the voices of Bakerman, Barb and Sledge (though Sledge still pops up in SDS's "thank you for waiting" automated message). 

August 2004: I start grad school, make new friends, discover iTunes which, of course, changes everything. Steve gives me "King of Carrot Flowers, Part 1" on a mix and it BLOWS MY MIND. I discover Lane Library's music horde. Steve and Tom discover the data disc method of putting half a dozen albums on a single CDR which, like the splitting of the atom, is good for some and bad for others, depending on your attitude toward copyright law. Regardless, my iTunes begins a slow swell of new music.

2005: I finally give in and listen to Arcade Fire's Funeral and it BLOWS M--well, you get it.

February 2006: Struggling for cash, WOXY becomes subscription-based. We subscribe, but are listening less and less.

Summer 2006: My stepdad is dying. I find comfort in surprising places. I listen to Band of Horses' Everything All the Time album almost habitually. My mind is too cluttered to be blown by anything.

September 2006: WOXY ceases its broadcast yet again. Last song: "Kick Out the Jams" by MC5.

October 2006: After an investment of funds from Bill Nguyen, who owns music trading site Lala.com, WOXY resumes its broadcast. At this point, there are no "first songs" left to play.

I still love WOXY but listen sparsely.

February 2009: Lala sells WOXY to Future Sounds Inc., which specializes in band promotion.

Fall 2009: WOXY relocates to new studios in Austin, TX.

March 23, 2010: WOXY abruptly ceases broadcast, citing lack of funds. There isn't time to even consider a last song.

March 26, 2010: I miss WOXY abstractly, but find myself not thinking about whether it will come back or not. I'm not sure I need it to anymore. The DJ's seem emotionally exhausted and I don't blame them. Instead of another resurrection, I kind of want WOXY to start again anew, the way it was when I was too young or dumb or stubborn to notice it: small and close to home.
 
 
skwantz
25 March 2010 @ 09:42 am
25 March: Dog
Snooze 1: Grease is the Word
Snooze 2: Dog


Congratulation, Blade. You guessed correctly. You win my dog.
 
 
skwantz
19 March 2010 @ 01:42 pm
19 Mar: September, Earth, Wind & Fire
16 Mar: I Love Rock and Roll, Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
5 Mar: Shake Your Body Down To the Ground, Jackson Five
4 Mar: (dog)
3 Mar: Throwing It All Away, Genesis
2 Mar: Dancing Queen, Abba (doesn't really warrant an embedded link, I feel)
1 Mar: Hold Me Now, Thompson Twins (not to be confused with Hold Me, Fleetwood Mac)
26 Feb: If You Leave, OMD
25 Feb: Don't Dream It's Over, Crowded House
24 Feb: I Just Want To Be Your Everything, Andy Gibb!
23 Feb: (dog woke me up before alarm went off)
22 Feb: Rock Steady, The Whispers
19 Feb: The Warrior, Scandal
18 Feb: Gypsy, Fleetwood Mac (snooze: Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler)
17 Feb: Jump, Van Halen
16 Feb: September, Earth, Wind & Fire
12 Feb: I Love Rock and Roll, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
 
 
skwantz
16 March 2010 @ 09:53 am
16 Mar: I Love Rock and Roll, Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
5 Mar: Shake Your Body Down To the Ground, Jackson Five
4 Mar: (dog)
3 Mar: Throwing It All Away, Genesis
2 Mar: Dancing Queen, Abba (doesn't really warrant an embedded link, I feel)
1 Mar: Hold Me Now, Thompson Twins (not to be confused with Hold Me, Fleetwood Mac)
26 Feb: If You Leave, OMD
25 Feb: Don't Dream It's Over, Crowded House
24 Feb: I Just Want To Be Your Everything, Andy Gibb!
23 Feb: (dog woke me up before alarm went off)
22 Feb: Rock Steady, The Whispers
19 Feb: The Warrior, Scandal
18 Feb: Gypsy, Fleetwood Mac (snooze: Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler)
17 Feb: Jump, Van Halen
16 Feb: September, Earth, Wind & Fire
12 Feb: I Love Rock and Roll, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
 
 
skwantz
MY CAR AIN'T GOT

no GPS

no satellite radio

no multi-disc CD player

no rear-mounted camera for driving in reverse

no digital displays for nothin

no input for iPod

no electric seat adjustments

no fancy running lights

no more than two measly cupholders 

no working lock on the trunk

no shine no more

no nothin but wheels and a seat

98 Civic

I fucking love you anyway
 
 
skwantz
07 March 2010 @ 12:58 pm
96.5 down here in Destin is rerunning an old Casey's Top 40 from 1985 in its original time slot. Beautiful!  I turned it on to hear Easy Lover.

Coming in at #10: One Night in Bangkok.

 God supports my livejournal. Thanks for reading, big fella.
 
 
skwantz
03 March 2010 @ 08:37 pm
5 Mar: Shake Your Body Down To the Ground, Jackson Five
4 Mar: (dog)
3 Mar: Throwing It All Away, Genesis
2 Mar: Dancing Queen, Abba (doesn't really warrant an embedded link, I feel)
1 Mar: Hold Me Now, Thompson Twins (not to be confused with Hold Me, Fleetwood Mac)
26 Feb: If You Leave, OMD
25 Feb: Don't Dream It's Over, Crowded House
24 Feb: I Just Want To Be Your Everything, Andy Gibb!
23 Feb: (dog woke me up before alarm went off)
22 Feb: Rock Steady, The Whispers
19 Feb: The Warrior, Scandal
18 Feb: Gypsy, Fleetwood Mac (snooze: Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler)
17 Feb: Jump, Van Halen
16 Feb: September, Earth, Wind & Fire
12 Feb: I Love Rock and Roll, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
 
 
skwantz
26 February 2010 @ 11:37 am
I go to bed early and sleep well and wake at four forty-five, for an hour of silence.  I never want to get out of bed then, and every morning I know I can sleep for another four hours, and still not fail at any of my duties. But I get up, so have come to believe my life can be seen in miniature in that struggle in the dark of the morning. While making the bed and boiling water for coffee, I talk to God ... 

I sit in the kitchen at the rear of the house and drink coffee and smoke and watch the sky growing light before sunrise, the trees of the woods near the barn taking shape, becoming single pines and elms and oaks and maples ... I sit and give myself to coffee and tobacco, that get me brisk again, and I watch and listen. In the first year or so after I lost my family, I played the radio in the mornings. But I overcame that, and now I rarely play it at all.


   - Andre Dubus, "A Father's Story"

I've been listening to music on my clock radio lately, whatever's on when the alarm goes off. It just started happening. I kind of fell into it by accident when I changed the station to Rewind 94.9, which plays mostly old hits from the 80s but also a sprinkling of songs from the decades on either side of that one, and occasionally a song that might technically be considered a hit but that I hadn't heard or thought about for a while. There was something about the combination of hearing those songs leaking out of that single shitty speaker while lying there in bed, floating in that transition between asleep and awake -- awake but still dreamy -- that made it feel meditative. It took me by surprise. So I've taken to just laying there and listening: to the song if it's not crap (sometimes it is), to the dog breathing, to water dropping in the downspout, to the neighbor's wind chimes.

Dubus talks about this in "A Father's Story," and Nicholson Baker's A Box of Matches is all about this idea -- of getting up early, of lighting a fire in a stove, of sitting and being quiet by yourself, sipping coffee, gathering strength. This period of silent meditation. So there's some literary precedent there, which is nice because it means I'm not just pissing ten minutes away doing nothing. I'm meditating. I just happen to be doing it in bed, and for only about six minutes or so -- two songs' worth at most. And instead of talking to God I'm listening to Spandau Ballet.

The thing is, I used to listen to music on a clock radio. I'd kind of forgotten about that. I'd forgotten that, at one point, the radio had something to offer me. I'd lay in bed and listen on the weekends, on summer mornings. I'd lay there and let the radio go and listen to somebody five yards away mow their grass. I listened to Casey's top 40 countdown on Sundays -- I'd record the top ten onto cassette and then transfer the songs I liked onto another cassette. Widdle that shit down into a solid mix tape. You could track the progress of a song you like from week to week, watch it crawl towards number one, see how many spots it would jump, how many weeks it would stay in exactly the same place, your song, One Night in Bangkok, just hovering there, and then either it would break and shoot forward or it would just drift softly back down the list without a struggle, two spots, ten spots, until it would slip out of the top 40 altogether and disappear with a little pluf.

This goes back all the way to my very earliest tastes in music, the first songs that I consciously liked or disliked. Some songs you listened to just because they were there. A song like Angel is a Centerfold -- who does that really appeal to? Some songs I actively disliked: anything by Air Supply, really. But some of these songs are the first songs I genuinely loved (even if it wasn't exactly love at the time), the first songs that I recognized were resonating with me, within me, for reasons I couldn't possibly begin to analyze then and don't care to try to now. Songs that I loved simply because they sounded good. Songs like Our House by Madness, which I've recently decided is my favorite song of all time for reasons that completely escape me, reasons that don't even matter. Everybody Wants to Rule the World. Africa. Owner of a Lonely Heart. And other songs, too, songs that I hesitate to mention because, objectively, they're way worse... like Don't Answer Me by the Alan Parson's Project. I mean, Jesus Christ, the Alan Parsons' Project! But I love it, and I can't deny it. ELO's Can't Get it Out of My Head. Matthew Wilder's Break My Stride (shit!). Even a song like Olivia Newton John's Magic makes me feel something that I can only classify as "good." Certainly nostalgia's a big part of it, but more than that I don't care to think too much about. I prefer to just listen and be still.

And enjoy that moment in bed before the day forces itself to begin. 
 
 
skwantz
1 Mar: Hold Me Now, Thompson Twins (not to be confused with Hold Me, Fleetwood Mac)
26 Feb: If You Leave, OMD
25 Feb: Don't Dream It's Over, Crowded House
24 Feb: I Just Want To Be Your Everything, Andy Gibb!
23 Feb: (dog woke me up before alarm went off)
22 Feb: Rock Steady, The Whispers
19 Feb: The Warrior, Scandal
18 Feb: Gypsy, Fleetwood Mac (snooze: Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler)
17 Feb: Jump, Van Halen
16 Feb: September, Earth, Wind & Fire
12 Feb: I Love Rock and Roll, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
 
 
skwantz
21 November 2009 @ 01:18 pm
My vote for inclusion in the Best American Pretentious Writing of 2009, from an essay by Jane Kramer in the New Yorker food issue:

"A few months ago, when my husband and I were driving to Paris from the farmhouse in Umbria where we write in the summer, we stopped in the village of Saint-Pere-sous-Vezelay, in Bergundy, for dinner at the restaurant L'Esperance, and over a drink at the bar afterward I mentioned those annual family votes to the owner and chef, Marc Meneau. He snorted at the word 'turkey'. He was bewildered, he said, by America's devotion to turkey. Un plat bas, he called it. Pas du tout festival." (No translation provided.)