Radio, radio
Apr. 24th, 2002 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gurdonarkThe onrushing flow of a coming sore throat warn me that this weekend must involve rest and citrus juice. I have no idea if citrus juice makes any difference, but it is one of my Effective Placebos.
Tonight I put the radio on the "community radio" station (i.e., left of NPR), which just this morning had had an interesting talk show on the issue of reparations for African/American slavery. This evening a bluesman with the name Texas Slim was on. I picture the name Texas Slim to fit someone roughly 60, whose between-song patter includes "I remember when Ella and I....", but in fact this Texas Slim sounded about 25. As his song began to play, I reflected on how odd it is that I love rock, folk, r & b, and even traditional country western, but I am almost immune to electric blues. Then I remembered the night in the early 1980s that Stevie Ray Vaughan opened for The Call in a show at a state fair agricultural animal exhibition barn in Little Rock, Arkansas. He was incredible. My friends and I, none of us remotely blues fan (we all owned a Foghat album or two, but that hardly counts) were captivated. Then the Call came out, played their entire first album worth of songs, and were so beloved, that they encored each of the songs all over again. God bless good bluesmen and bands with twelve song repertoires. Michael Been of the Call looked really happy that night, which, if you've ever heard an early Call lyric, is a thing to discuss in and of itself. Still, tonight it was time to switch the dial to AM 1400, where a radio station in Greenville, Texas, fifty miles and nearly half a century away, plays "prime" country western, which translates to *very* Nashvilleish late 60s and early 70s stuff. You know, D.I.V.O.R.C.E. and Glen Campbell before his cowboy hat had rhinestones.
Just the other morning AM 1400 had the "trading post" show, where everybody can list items for sale for free, a sort of community flea market of the ether not uncommon in small towns in my rural townboy childhood. Tonight the repertoire seemed even more Nashville than usual. I spent my childhood with a deep revulsion for this seeminly inescapable combination of bathetic lyrics,
twangy guitars, and misplaced production values.
Now it seems like home to me, somehow. I had a quick, half-formed reflection about how only
Waylon and Willie and the boys' immense native talent concealed the fact that what came next, the outlaw movement which ended 'the Nashville years', was, like progressive rock, merely a side road in the c & w genre, and an odd one at that, but then I got lost on whether my analogy would then make those odd dance bands who comprise "new country" into the equivalent of punk, and the whole idea lost me so much that I was holstered by my own pony, or hoist by my own petard, or something, and then I thought about how great it was that I actually mowed our postage stamp back yard and then it was allright.
Tonight I put the radio on the "community radio" station (i.e., left of NPR), which just this morning had had an interesting talk show on the issue of reparations for African/American slavery. This evening a bluesman with the name Texas Slim was on. I picture the name Texas Slim to fit someone roughly 60, whose between-song patter includes "I remember when Ella and I....", but in fact this Texas Slim sounded about 25. As his song began to play, I reflected on how odd it is that I love rock, folk, r & b, and even traditional country western, but I am almost immune to electric blues. Then I remembered the night in the early 1980s that Stevie Ray Vaughan opened for The Call in a show at a state fair agricultural animal exhibition barn in Little Rock, Arkansas. He was incredible. My friends and I, none of us remotely blues fan (we all owned a Foghat album or two, but that hardly counts) were captivated. Then the Call came out, played their entire first album worth of songs, and were so beloved, that they encored each of the songs all over again. God bless good bluesmen and bands with twelve song repertoires. Michael Been of the Call looked really happy that night, which, if you've ever heard an early Call lyric, is a thing to discuss in and of itself. Still, tonight it was time to switch the dial to AM 1400, where a radio station in Greenville, Texas, fifty miles and nearly half a century away, plays "prime" country western, which translates to *very* Nashvilleish late 60s and early 70s stuff. You know, D.I.V.O.R.C.E. and Glen Campbell before his cowboy hat had rhinestones.
Just the other morning AM 1400 had the "trading post" show, where everybody can list items for sale for free, a sort of community flea market of the ether not uncommon in small towns in my rural townboy childhood. Tonight the repertoire seemed even more Nashville than usual. I spent my childhood with a deep revulsion for this seeminly inescapable combination of bathetic lyrics,
twangy guitars, and misplaced production values.
Now it seems like home to me, somehow. I had a quick, half-formed reflection about how only
Waylon and Willie and the boys' immense native talent concealed the fact that what came next, the outlaw movement which ended 'the Nashville years', was, like progressive rock, merely a side road in the c & w genre, and an odd one at that, but then I got lost on whether my analogy would then make those odd dance bands who comprise "new country" into the equivalent of punk, and the whole idea lost me so much that I was holstered by my own pony, or hoist by my own petard, or something, and then I thought about how great it was that I actually mowed our postage stamp back yard and then it was allright.
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The theraputic value in mowing
Date: 2002-04-25 05:42 am (UTC)Re: The theraputic value in mowing
When we lived in La Crescenta, CA, the entire neighborhood used the same lawn service, who swooped in each week in huge teams and did a bang up job of mowing and gardening. When we moved in, folks told us about how this was who mowed, in the same way that they might have said this is the power company. So mowing is a new experience for me again, after my decade sojourn in a balmy heaven or hell.
It *is* restorative. I once bought a manual mower, determined to get more exercise. In May and June, I felt like Charles Atlas. In August, when I was huffing and puffing in that tall grass, I felt like Chumples Atalltimes.
KAMD
Date: 2002-04-25 06:20 am (UTC)They played all those oldies although, at the time, they weren't oldies. I hated it. The only song I remember is: "Drop Kick Me Jesus Through the Goalpost of Life." I can still sing it for you too. They also had the "swap shop" show; exactly as you describe. People would call in and say things like "Brother Lou? I got about two truckloads of dirt that somebody can have if they'll just come get it."
On another note, you know what you have in Texas that we don't have in northeast OK? Bluebonnets. I used to love driving around this time of year just to see the vast fields of bluebonnets blooming. There were usually other flowers mixed in but those were my favorites. I like to see some again.
Re: KAMD
Date: 2002-04-25 08:11 am (UTC)I got several aquariums for just 5 dollars there once.
Remember on television, Dialling for Dollars?
Beth Ward drawing names from a lottery thing and
then calling people to see if they would answer their phone, whereupon they would win 10, 25 or even 50 dollars?
Dialing for Dollars
Date: 2002-04-25 10:55 am (UTC)He had a special note pad by the chair to keep track of the "count and amount".
Great memories.
Re: KAMD
Date: 2002-04-25 08:12 am (UTC)you know
Date: 2002-04-25 03:22 pm (UTC)Glen Campbell!! I remember my first 3 45's. First one was Glen Campbell's Rhinestone Cowboy. i didnt understand all the lyrics so i made some up of my own. something about getting constipation from people i don't even know, and old folks coming over to your home.
the second was Puff the Magic Dragon, of course and my third 45 was Doobie Bros. Black Water. of course when they were talking about dancing with a pretty mama i thought they were talking about their own mothers. lololol. i really dug that stuff though thanks for reminding me of it :) :) :)
Re: you know
Date: 2002-04-27 01:29 pm (UTC)"Joy to the World", by Three Dog Night, may have been second.
My first album was "Closer to Home" by Grand Funk Railroad.
My second album was "Santana III".
I miss those times, sometimes.