radiofreegak: 2008 Archives

The fifth night of Christmas, the final night of Hanukkah and the first night of black ice on the roads in Vancouver, already caught in the crossfire of every possible winter storm system (as evidenced by the wonky radio programming last week; my fill-in whilst I was out east, fighting the flu, was unable to get to the station due to a foot of snow her way). All this converged on the ultimate episode for the year 2008. UBC campus was pretty much closed, meaning all the DJ's after 5pm relied on each other to get into the station.

I was reluctant to pull yet another list of the best songs, best albums, best music, best whatever else to add to the pile. After juggling several lists, I slid more towards songs I had neglected to play in the past and then fuse a few threads together to give a narrow focus on songs you would've heard in the year but mixed in some harder to find gems to flesh things out.

Naturally, it was time to pull one of the best soundtracks of the year out; after debating on using WALL·E as the hub around a children's music themed episode, or waiting to see if Thomas Newman's score would be nominated for an Academy Award, I opted for it after a recent rewatch during one of my prolonged flights. Amongst the fantastic graphics, the surreal story and feisty robots, the sound design behind the film was phenomenal and all credit goes to Ben Burtt, a veteran audio auteur.

Due to the empty nature of the building, as the hosts passed the booth onto the next host, there was often a great deal of chatter over the holiday season's events and what the future may hold. It's great to have a moment to bond with people you only have fleeting moments with as the shows change, so if there were moments where songs didn't properly lead into each other, just know it was intentionally negligent. Based on the weather and usual yuletide activities, it's hard to say how many people would be listening live. As well, with the weather outside icy, most radios were tuned to the news, like the taxi I had to take home after the buses couldn't make it up the hills along West Point Grey.

The last tidbits of sound were thrown together at the last minute as a quick audio snippet of the 1985 leap second was added (since 2008 will have its own, otherwise known as 23:59:60 UTC), along with the standard Auld Lang Syne by Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians, leading us to another Scottish treat, the sound of ships sailing along the North Sea during Hogmanay, the New Year's Eve celebration. I like a little audio pastiche every once in a while, so I'll try to come up with a few more as time permits.

And with that, the songs that close the year.

Nothing helps calm the rising tide of holiday anxiety than by listening to a really frantic collection of strange music somehow pegged to the baby Jesus' birth.

Actually, this episode was completely horrific in the early stages as I tried stuffing the show to the gills with every possible genre and funny bit I had. Considering that early Saturday, I maybe had two Christmas songs in my iTunes and by the evening, it had turned to twenty hours worth, there was a veritable avalanche of carols that made me twitchy.

Because, like most of you, I can't stand the same thirty or so songs you always hear. If it was up to me, there'd be more sacred hymns, tearjerking ballads and bizarre murder stories in the holiday canon, but ninety minutes of all that along with the usual spattering of deranged nuggets of joy sounds atrocious. Christmas mixes are tenuous things since most of the time, it sounds incoherent.

I scaled back, allowing the first half hour to be kinda psychedelic, segueing brilliantly from what the previous show was doing with noise pastiches from local heroes the Value Village People. The second half hour started off electronic before the stylistic overload crept up into the final third.

For a handful of my friends, the Star Wars Theatre (3000?) rendition of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas kicks off the holiday season, though starting off with that random slice of yuletide splendour will scare most people off. Also in the stable are Low's sublime Christmas release, Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet's quirky quicky and Morphine's drowsy B-side.

Not helping matters was the fact that a half hour until airtime, I was still at work, downtown, stuck on a phone call that went on for hours. Thankfully, I had all my toys with me, so I hailed a taxi to the campus for the first time (which ain't cheap) and managed to get there in time to collect my wits, check the records, say hello to everyone who was still there and test the turntables.

The cool thing was that the music department hauled out the super collection of tinseltown tunes; there were hundred of shiny discs, black discs and other musical media. I used a spate of them during the background randomly. Messing around with so much music provided ample distraction and you can tell in the first half hour that I was still wound up from the rush of the day, tripping over words like my tongue was swollen. The clocks in the studio were widely varied, making time estimates wonky and I jettisoned my Italian tracks at the end for more Shadowy Men, just 'cuz I wanted to.

I'm sure there's more but my net connex is proving wonky tonight, so let's cut to the chase.

I wish this show could've gone a bit longer, but them's the breaks. Seems like any of the programs before me get their time eaten by the show before and I'm left with the tightest 90 minutes to wiggle with.

Nevertheless, this was a solid piece of the genre cake as I stayed mostly electronic. Fittingly, so was the music as most of the discs I found in the library were old and fairly unplayable (compact discs do not age gracefully), so the bulk of the show came off the iPod. However, it was only yesterday that I found a used vinyl of the Thief soundtrack (the trailer as heard during this week's broadcast), which helped greatly since all I had from Tangerine Dream was the Heartbreakers soundtrack, which is nice on its own but that film was rather insignificant, especially in contrast the blazing white glow of Michael Mann's debut film. There was a lot more I could've tackled regarding Mann and his audio æsthete, but you have to hear the music from time to time and not so much from me.

The Modular Recordings snapshot was semi-intentional; I had hoping to drop a remix of The Presets' This Boy's In Love but sometimes, people need to be able to find what song they hear easily. At some point, I'll play you Cut Copy's remix work of the Presets, one long languid day. (As eluded during the show, here's the Exclaim! profile on Cut Copy in wake of their 2008 best-of lists.)

Not sure what else to say but man, I play a lot of Amon Tobin. I need to switch over to Richie Hawtin for Canadian electronic music, or find other sources of fresh national technologies.

This is my playlist; tell me yours.

Going into this week's show, I thought the entire proceedings would have gone overly whimsical. (Starting with Tiny Tim can do that.) The first half hour had a serious eighties college radio vibe, despite the fact that most of the recordings came from the past few years. The station had a single by These Electric Lives that I hadn't heard before, so coming up with Soda Water as a replacement was a fantastic upgrade. The Oxford Collapse song had been burrowing in my mind for a while, which is odd since most of their stuff straddles the nostalgia line too closely for me to truly appreciate.

CITR's archives had plenty of options for most of the artists I had lined up, though sometimes what I brought with me worked better. It's unfortunate that Bat for Lashes isn't in the library, since their debut stands as one of the strongest in recent memory. As the college sound floated up into the darkened clouds, I had to locate a few Canadian acts to both fit in and then lead us elsewhere. The recent fund drive delayed new playlist adds for a few weeks, so a great backlog is finally clearing, allowing me to tear into the new work from Sebastian Grainger (formerly of Death from Above 1979) and The Buttless Chaps, allowing me to land back in the salt of the earth.

...and dive into the Sacred Harp choral style, as featured in the recent documentary Awake, My Soul. CITR's music co-ordinator Mr. Meat had told me that he added the soundtrack specifically for me, which was gracious. Upon first listen though, I snapped to attention as the a capella choirs half-chanted, half-sang their notes. Taking a good chunk of hymns I knew — for those who may have known, one fact I don't advertise all the time is I used to be a church organist, though in the Lutheran tradition — the melodies and arrangements became almost Gregorian though brilliantly imprecise. I love the fact that the recording sessions were treated as field recordings, whereby the song leader (who changes each song) calls out the song or page number and everyone goes through the first verse in solfege then barge into the actual words on the second verse. Add to the fact that the songs are known by their melody instead of the song title, which better reflects the flexibility that hymns have as songs can take lyrics from other hymns, and standards such as Amazing Grace are known by locations (in this case, New Britain), the Sacred Harp tradition seemingly remixes the entire canon I'm familiar with.

The new-folk versions that followed weren't as immediate but it's great to see how the old gospel influence develops over different genres. And in many cases, certain artists gained their first exposure to this style as part of this project and discovered a way with music they hadn't necessarily been exposed to before. I can imagine some of you may be daunted with the idea of hearing religious themes; in that case, you can always unlisten to the words and pick out the character and unspoken message or history of what's being sung. If I had time, I'd like to sketch out a series of shows that explore the various parts of music and this soundtrack stands as a great way to highlight the human voice.

And with that, the playlist.

Hmm, another round of gold. Funding drives do no wonders to my memory.

This is the second (and final) episode as part of the 3rd annual CITR Fund Drive, representing the point where the station hit the 90% mark of its goal towards $15 000 (which was eventually achieved on the morning of the penultimate day of the drive; as of writing, the total is over sixteen thousand). Naturally, the rhythm of the show was substantially better than the one last week. Upgrades appeared in the forms of: new music; the occasional and better prepared notes; and stronger comfort in pitching the plea for cash.

And, for the first time ever, I even had a caller pledge, though he didn't want the radio free gak prize pack. I have to figure out a more enticing offer the next time the drive comes along; I even added a copy of Caribou's latest (and 2008 Polaris Prize-winning album) Andorra at the behest of the station manager, who I spooked into appearing on air as she updated the totals board (sorry Bren) but no takers.

The money theme in the show was somewhat subtle yet fluid, starting off with the New York City garbage strike audio clip I had forgotten to use last week. I had Blondie's take on the Nerves' classic Hanging on the Telephone cued at one point, but after some idle chatter about one DJ spinning too much Cher (!?), I opted for the less travelled artists.

The profile on Jerry Goldsmith went all right, though tracks were pruned as time ran tight. Goldsmith remains a difficult artist to fully profile since he had composed thousands of tracks for hundreds of productions over his lifetime. Nevertheless, I did cover some ground with his sixties lounge style and his early eighties sci-fi fare. I forgot to mention an earlier profile I had on Goldsmith's score to Planet of the Apes, but in hindsight, I tend to overplay that card.

After my shift, I took my shift on the phones, though things were quiet throughout the evening. My work on the finale poster was printed out finally, which I hope to upload for you soon. The pilgrim drawing remains a little suspect and badly laid on the poster but the typography's all right, considering I had to work with an unfinalized roster. I hung out with the crew that was there 'til 1am and somehow, managed to get a lift home.

I also had to step in after The Jazz Show since the show afterwards, Vengeance is Mine had a night off due to the host being ill, so I had to prepare the overnight broadcast. Instead of relying on the usual BBC Worldwide feed, I tried choosing a mix of other fantastic podcasts, but after a browser crash, I opted simply for a spate of the most recent Funky 16 Corners podcasts, which remain a source of frustration to subscribe to via iTunes. I did a quick blurb after fading out The Jazz Show theme and hoped that no other crashes transpired overnight.

You don't need to punch no monkey for the playlist.

It's the third annual CITR Fundrive (donate now) and my inaugural take on the whole endeavour on soliciting funds live on air. Since the bulk of my dialogue was pre-written, I elected not to write up anything else, relying primarily on old notes. Since I had no idea how much I'd be talking, I had way more music queued than time to play; regular listeners can calculate that with about 10 minutes less music, I spoke for 10 minutes more than usual, which left me rather parched...especially since I'm actually recovering from a recent sinus infection that had me homebound and somewhat rested today.

This show became a best-of due to many reasons; mostly due to the fund drive formatting, but parts related to my lack of laptop and a delay in its replacement. I did have a loaner from work but it has its own unreliable history along with lack of space for me to restore anything from my backup drive. Thankfully, the iPod had a good chunk of this week's show preloaded and I could recycle the bits I had for the previously aired songs whilst giving updates. However, Cancon leapt up along with a few playlist requirements thanks to the new Dears and the CFCF EP.

The radio free gak prize pack at airtime was as follows: any pledge over $101.90 included a copy of the Fountain soundtrack (as composed by Clint Mansell, not as whoever I said during showtime, and performed by the Kronos Quartet and Mogwai — I have not yet seen or heard the film or soundtrack but I'm tempted to open one of the copies lying around), a button I made and some Finnish salmiakki candy. As well, anyone who would've pledged $20 on top of any additional gift would have it hand-delivered (within reason) instead of having the donor pick it up from UBC campus.

However, there was only one caller during my show and he took a tax receipt, so I'll leave the existing gifts for next week and try to throw some more into the gak prize pack. This may rely on me coming into the station to make a mixed CD, along with hitting up a friend for some silk-screened shirts. Podcast listeners are wholly encouraged to donate despite the lack of immediacy offered by the prizes, though the logistics of getting those gifts out would need to be sorted, since the existing fund drive budget does not include postage costs. Still, I'm on the board with $170, which is a good step towards $15 000. At the end of my show, the total amount collected was over $6000 – fantastic for 5 days.

Naturally, the technical faults appeared, sensing the time was ripe to directly solicit the listenership as things broke down. The primary CD player refused to open and the secondary started to skip during certain songs, meaning that I had to creatively cue things so that the third player was the primary, using the second one for short songs on trusty discs. As well, the turntables were a fiasco and a half, as the left turntable was only mono in the left speaker and the right turntable's levels were bleeding already when nothing was playing. That meant that the Max B. track was in double mono for the last half of the song as I tried to figure out how on earth the mixer was miswired (again) and scrapping my other vinyl selections. I was forced to rely on my iPod heavily, which is ironic since I was moving away from relying too heavily on using that as my primary device as I got comfortable with my show. Someone pledge more money now to get that stuff fixed!

Of course, the entire show wasn't a "clip show"; the last 20 minutes included my first profile on Ennio Morricone, which had been long gestating but the sheer size of my collection is already monstrous, and I barely have the surface scratched. The five tracks I played covered a wide range of his wilder and generally known compositions, including some of his spaghetti Western works plus some more psychedelic pieces. I should devote a whole show for him in the future and Morricone was one of the few acts that survived completely on my iPod after my stolen laptop.

Adding to the madcappery of the show was a good friend photographing me during the last 45 minutes. Due to his time, he'll send all the photos for me to sort through, so there's bound to be a few keepers, along with evidence of my moustache for November.

I touched upon Burli briefly as part of my pitch appeal, and there's a world of information on its history and its founder Stefan Ellis along with the interconnectedness with CITR, but it shows how community radio can extend further into the community. I have a couple other stories similar to that I can share next time.

Meanwhile, here's what was heard.

Sorry to have missed you last week. As I indicated during the show, I didn't plan on missing it because I also didn't plan on having my place being broken into whilst I was at work either. When I got home an hour before airtime, I realized I wasn't going anywhere and I waited for the police whilst figuring out what to do with a front door that couldn't be secured. I had no physical harm to myself or any loved ones, just a bruised spirit.

This show was pretty much in the bag then, so pardon any staleness or sense of numb anxiety on my part. I was already a few weeks behind on a tribute to Dolemite in light of Rudy Ray Moore's death, but with the extra time available, I was surprised to find some music of his that was actually safe to play on radio.

Henry, the host of the show before mine, had a few overlapping acts with my proposed setlist, so after conferring with him about what he played as I hung out in Studio 1 during the last half hour of his show, I made a few substitutions for Department of Eagles and Deerhunter. The former act has pretty much lost the lo-fi pastichery of their past recordings which I dug, though their songwriting has solidified. Meanwhile, the latter continues to slowly convince me of sheer genius despite the indie trappings.

As you may have heard, some of the songs had little skips and pauses due to either the older quality of the CD's or the players themselves were starting to give out. I was lucky that more of the selections from the Lost Highway soundtrack didn't completely freeze altogether since the machine thrashed with its error correcting in the studio. Distractions continued as the wall clock stopping midway during the show, requiring me to climb up, see what the story was with the battery, reset the time then somehow place the clock back in a way so that it wouldn't fall. As well, one of the other DJ's previously on the air rewired with the turntables again, messing up the channels and breaking the locks on the shelving below, which caused the station engineer to expand his vocabulary. Then there was an eager student wishing to become a station volunteer, which required a quick two minute rundown before a song ended to tell him about what roles were available and how to sign up for a tour.

Since Henry ran a little late with his show and the various times the studio claimed to have, I realized around the time I played the snappy Raphael Saadiq piece that I had to scale my show back a bit. Thus, no concert listings this week and a shortened selection of Angelo Badalamenti songs at the end. The entire show went by in a blur but I suspect it was an aberration based on everything else that was going on.

And a reminder: starting Thursday at 5pm Pacific, it's the third annual CITR Fund Drive, so the next two shows will be leaner, meaner and asking for money. Times are tight for everyone, including the station that seems ready to fall apart at any given moment, so if you can donate, your generosity will be greatly appreciated and not overlooked.

This is your playlist.

When it comes to my Hallowe'ens, half of the chills and thrills arrive in the form of spills.

As I prepared this week's show — all about spooky music with a mix of some campiness and some outright horror — I was getting frustrated with trying to fill 90 minutes of airtime, which usually comprises of 75-80 minutes of music. I fretted over the final cuts on Sunday and set myself up for a pretty solid show. I figured I had a reasonable backup plan in the form of the Dawn of the Dead soundtrack — graciously provided to me by a co-worker on his original vinyl — in case I wanted to swap a few songs, though that score wound up somewhat less ethereal than I was expecting.

Never did I expect to jump on the air a half hour early though, as the previous host never made his shift this week (I should email him and check to see how he's doing). Once I arrived at the station, I found out what the deal was and dove right into the show at 7pm. The basic plan I had was to run with the show as it was and then somehow come up with the last half hour based on my extra tracks and those that were left off.

Whatever my intentions were...well, you can hear that the seams were roughly sewn, especially as I juggled around my tracklist during the last hour and switched sloppily from my iPod to the laptop when I ran out of the homebrew. (Please don't ask what I was thinking when I started snapping my fingers, or tried to snap said fingers, ugh.) There was a quick fade-out of the Throbbing Gristle song halfway through as I finally clearly heard the rather gruesome story being told, which would generally fly all right on a campus radio station though not during primetime. Actually listening to the lyrics, or at least reading them beforehand, is going to be a new habit to learn, considering I was already slightly leery about the Golden Palominos song later on, a track that has bolted me awake one night as I heard Nicole Blackman's eerie tale of a kidnapping.

One thing I wish I had done was feature the original song by Delia Derbyshire I had selected; a long piece featuring a woman talking about the ocean. A quirky tale would have provided a little break from the increasingly ominous latter half of the show, though Derbyshire's an artist who deserves her own profile very soon.

All in all, this episode should definitely raise the hair on the back of your neck, intentionally or not. I had reluctant expectations going into this show, and I adequately met them at times.

I present to you now your playlist. Please inspect each song for possible razors and other spikey objects before listening.

Up until late Sunday, this show was going to be mostly blues-related, but since I wasn't feeling in a blues mode, I shelved that program and came up with this one, featuring plenty of music from one of the old guard in electronic music: Underworld.

Based on their regular lengthy songs, Underworld easily took up half the show — including their songs from Trainspotting and Batman & Robin — along with the recent discovery within the station archives of the soundtrack to the film Breaking and Entering, whom they wrote along with Lebanese composer Gabriel Yared, a man I should dig up more music for a future episode.

The rest of the show fell into place quite quickly, although relying on the obituaries can appear to be an instant tribute that approaches distastefulness. Still, Neal Hefti's theme to the original (yet very campy) Batman television series is one of those unlikeliest of gems that will never go away. And the Four Tops' Levi Stubbs wasn't someone that immediately struck a chord, but then you listen to Bernadette, as heard in the background during this scene in Madhouse, or just Stubbs himself as the voice of Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors, and you realize what a powerful voice he had. And as referred to on air, during one of my fill-ins for Shake a Tail Feather, I played their song from Shaft Goes to Africa.

Wire and Crystal Castles provided an unconventional theme as they both had recently cancelled shows in the Vancouver area; I would have fit The Breeders in but time didn't permit. And further in concert tie-ins, I had tickets to give away to Wednesday's sold-out show by Dengue Fever, but no takers. It's a shame; from what songs of theirs I spun during my Asian themed show, their Cambodian songs should sound delightfully exotic. Maybe I should have landed tickets myself...

Otherwise, Mr. Walker called during the early part of the show, indicating that he wouldn't be able to appear tonight after he recovered from surgery. He was relaying some graphic details about the procedure as a segment ended, hence the brief silence towards the first third of the show as I quickly wrapped up the call and prepared one of his older shows for rebroadcast. To conclude all the campy Batman antics — and to soothe the way to the Jazz Show — I wanted to find a quality version of Count Basie's defining take on Hefti's Li'l Darling, but I settled for the The Ray Brown Trio's version, which has a nice languid feel to close the ceremonies.

That's mostly it, save for the playlist, which follows.

Sorry for the delay in getting this entry posted — one factor has been my increasingly unreliable internet connection at home. The new coaxial cable is helping with giving my speeds slightly over dial-up but speeds remain less than optimal.

The other factor for those of you who listen closely is that I had the sniffles, which I tried to obscure on air but failed often. Symptoms later deteriorated to the worst runny nose I ever had that night. My headspace drifted at times, which accounted for the occasional misread bit as I tried to figure out what I had meant when things were written earlier. The iPod had its own little fits, skipping ahead in songs whenever I wasn't looking, though that problem abated after the first half hour.

Kid Koala kicked things off with a song that one of the CBC Toronto folks use when filling in on one of the national morning programmes on Radio 1. After some disco, house and some demo music, the next highlight was the little profile on Monkey: Journey to the West, a Chinese opera that features the main Gorillaz duo with a heavy Oriental feel. One of the Gorillaz, Damon Albarn, led into a segue into Central African music as his recent production work for Amadou & Mariam allowed a sensible change of gears.

I played some Stereolab too, though I debated using the old tour single song versus a song off Stereolab off-shoot (and 2008 tour opener) Monade. Now that most of my 45's are up from Brooklyn, I could've gone with the latter after all. Alas...

The Lalo Schifrin soundtrack to Enter the Dragon was a recent acquisition, perfectly located after reading The AV Club's mixlist on "songs from and inspired by classic cult films" and some comments there. Though there are parallels to my recent bout of blaxploitation scores, Schifrin's score retains its own character, much like his work for the original TV series Mission: Impossible.

Somehow, I had more wiggle time this week, so I managed to fit pretty much everything in, though nailing the timing of the PSA's and adverts still needs to be perfected, especially more so now as placement of these carts is more closely monitored. Those things are going to fairly consistent going forward, just so you know.

On with the playlist.

Time to padlock the basement and rock the garage.

Episodes like this one form organically as I sort through my increasing cachet of planned songs and notice little trends. I can't say whether as of late, I'm intentionally working on creating more focused shows for certain genres or styles, but the past month's worth of programming definitely mark their territory. This one specifically goes for that ramshackle guitar sound, either from a garage, punk, psychedelic, rockabilly or otherwise loud standpoint.

And I kidded you not when I said that I had just arrived back in Vancouver from New York: I landed just before 3pm and needed to go home, unpack and come up with the show, which had been a loose amorphous state during my travels, but I had to buckle down and streamline things. Upon reaching the studio with only a few minutes to spare, I combed through a few replacement songs, which proudly meant including local act (with station connections) the Tranzmitors, though I had to bump the freaky Peruvian song I had lined up.

Admittedly, I used a few too many cues for the Brian Tyler profile, since I had to talk over one of the Red Elvises tracks and forced the Czerwone Gitary to get a quick fade out before cutting over to Gavin — I'll keep that song on reserve for future usage, mind you. Bubba Ho-Tep is such a quirky film stylistically and the soundtrack works itself well with the horror clichés along with satirizing them, much like a mummy that is only quick enough to attack the elderly. Six String Samurai relies heavily on the score to compensate for the low budget placed otherwise on the visuals, though there's enough chutzpah everywhere to give that movie an energy you can power a large city for days.

The set on the Shangri-Las seemed natural to throw into the proceedings, especially since Mary Weiss still manages to convey that same sassy vibe after all these years. I wanted to preserve that as the rest of the short songs kept fluctuating, though I managed to luck out on Canadian content after discovering Diet Cola and The Von Zippers were representing the true north strong and freak.

Now, before I collapse from exhaustion triggered by jet lag and cold medicine, let's give you some playlist love:

Based on a substantial internet outage at home and an imminent flight out tomorrow, I'll make this write-up brief.

This show was mostly hip hop, something that initially was going to a small segment in the usual random episode but grew organically into a full-fledged show as I took bits and bites from my collection, then rounded it out with a few classics (well, to me) in the station archives.

Naturally, this week had to start with a song from Paul Newman, who passed away the Friday before. I had hoped to find a few vintage clips from his films to play, but time was tight as usual, more so as the guys in the show before me were running late, playing Clint Black's vilely misguided Iraq and Roll with vested irony. (The podcast will ideally have it surgically removed.)

After a wonderful RJD2 cut, it was the new Q-Tip single, which features a lovely sample from Black Ivory's You & I and struck me dumb when I first heard it. A pleasant surprise arose when it came time for Hugh Le Caine, who I stumbled by accident, finding out during research that not only was he Canadian but from Port Arthur, the northern half of what eventually became my hometown of Thunder Bay.

Originally, Masta Ace was supposed to follow Edan, mostly since the former track invoked Masta Ace's old Juice Crew in the lyrics. However, I need to throw Ugly Duckling into the mix and had very little option otherwise. Of course, screwing up the song title with the album title didn't help matters, but such is the case with the quick replacement.

Finding the Wayne & Shuster sketch Frontier Psychiatrist via WFMU's blog was an utter godsend, exposing the genius that the Avalanches deployed when sampling it into their song Frontier Psychiatrist and bringing the joy of connecting another link to the comedy duo with the Australian DJ act (and just when is the next Avalanches' album due???) after the obvious W&S sample in Radio.

Rounding most things up was the soundtrack to the lost film Brotherman. I hadn't wanted to do another blaxploitation album after the recent wave I've profiled, but the story behind what happened to Brotherman, along with the general urban theme, made it a nice fit. I definitely have to step back from another one for a while, despite my professed love to the genre, but there are a few genres I have to explore and I've set up my future playlist a bit more devotedly in hopes for a quicker turnaround.

All right, this note wasn't brief at all. Let's hit the playlist.

We'll see if anyone reads this anytime soon after this latest blog software upgrade. Nothing like having HTML templates fail with meaningless errors for no particular reason. Anywho... Okay, this site is mostly back to normal, with some even new features like proper categories and monthly archives, which will look prettier when I have time to look at it when not frantically playing "guess what this error means". Wordpress, your day comes soon...

This week cleaved the coconut since the first hour and the last half hour don't seemingly fit together. Featuring a heavy electronic remix set, whereby the higher bitrate songs pumped out and I mixed the vocals higher for then whispered my interludes, there was a solid groove.

Then the show veered to seventies jazz-pop with the classy Roy Budd, including a good profile of his work for the film Get Carter (take a look at the North American trailer and Stereolab's cover). I had hoped to have a profile on Budd for a while, mostly in inspiration from the ever brief snippet of the theme from The Sandbaggers, the ruthlessly professional British TV series about intelligence. One Mr. Kent introduced me to this series during one of my then frequent layovers in Toronto and the reality of the actual battles within a ministry, along with the complete lack of glamour in the spy game, leaves its mark. In many ways, Budd's theme to the series shows his compositional strengths in applying the minimal amount of music required to convey the subtext: the less said, the better. You can apply your own rationales and emotions in the actions of Carter and Burnside as they battle a bleak future on their own terms.

Approaching the segues with a lower volume will take some adjustment time. Some of the other DJ's were talking about their "talk" and how the difference in volume in voice conveys more intimacy. I still have to figure out my usual range of vocal dynamics and tone, but it's an experiment. Naturally, this means the microphone is more in my face, which makes it easier for me to lose place in the script, which makes for a less robotic time as I trip over the odd phrase — "Boy bud's rest" took the cake easily.

Lay on the playlist action:

Salut, mes amis! Comment faites-vous? Qu'est-ce qui passe? Allons-y!

That'll be the extent of my conversational French this week, so for the true Francophone experience, you'll have to listen to the songs.

Nevertheless, it's funny being able to quantify the sheer amount of French music in my collection so that I could explore much further if I wanted to in future shows. Part of the inspiration behind this was the main feature, taking Serge Gainsbourg's work behind his concept album Histoire de Melody Nelson along with his orchestral collaborator Jean-Claude Vannier and his ambitiously insane L'enfant assassin des mouches, both recently re-released and powerful examples of muse-chasing. I found Vannier's album at a local record store, with the sticker overtop stating "HOLY SHIT". The first track you heard was what turned me onto the album and sadly, I had to leave the one epic track I wanted to spin off the playlist, since time was short after the show prior to me went into deep overtime.

Incidentally, I left part of the preceding show near the beginning, since Henry (and guest Steve) played another French track I was saving for next week: part of Justice's proggy electro song Planisphère for Dior Homme's Summer 2009 Fashion show.

I've played Gainsbourg in the past, but it was a delight to dig up some of the earlier songs he wrote for the pop market, which provided the first major feature on the show: yé-yé. I wanted to go with the 1970's disco versions, which are epic tales of heartbreak, but I couldn't find my collection of songs, so I settled on the light soul numbers from the sixties. It's not all candy gloss as the guitars squeal at times and the rhythm can veer towards something sinister, but the sweet French girls sing their words with little detectable irony about life whilst young. (Though the territory marked by Jordy enters another depth that dooms us all.)

And I can't believe I'll say this, but I'm floored how good (or not craptacular) Carla Bruni's album is. Perhaps it's the usual mesmerizing charm of the French language (though she definitely looks like someone you don't kick out of bed), but the lyricism inherent in the words along with that perfect level of detachment towards passion always appeals.

I have to admit that another reason I wanted to try to tackle a French show was to aim for some programming diversity, since there's seem to be less variety in music on the radio and there's currently no French show on CITR (our compatriots in arms at CJSF up the hill and CFUV across the strait do provide, though). Not that I could tackle such a show on a regular basis; besides, I'm not Jodie Foster with her perfect Parisian accent – if I ever get close to a proper Parisian accent, my Finnish kicks in and I sound Niçoise with un accent Marseillais, or so I've been told. Not Québecois at the very least.

I'll find more production music from France in the 70's and 80's the next time I try this, along with some actual prog music to offset any future sugary confections.

Et maintenant, le playlist:

This was the show destined to be prior to me falling ill, so this show was mostly in the can for a couple weeks before airtime. There were naturally a few tweaks as time marched on, so the Walkmen/Beck set lost its poignancy as the concerts passed.

Fortunately, having this show prepared worked well since I had spent most of the week before travelling: three days with my folks and then a weekend in wonderful Winnipeg for a friend's wedding. I returned to Vancouver five hours before the show with very little to worry about. Since classes at UBC officially started this week, the campus had liveliness for the first time since early April, which gave the station a bit of a jolt as new volunteers provided evidence of wanting their first taste of radioland wonder, mostly in the form of sign-up sheets filled with phone numbers and random doodles.

The Bruce Haack/Fantastic Plastic Machine segment was one of those things that was less of an accident and more just a bit of whimsical fortune that had been residing in my collection waiting for a moment to shine. Haack remains one of those enigmatic individuals that made music on his own terms, so despite how eerie his repetoire is — especially when you consider that children were his target audience — the charming quirkiness provides so much character that you wouldn't otherwise readily find.

Instead of a specific soundtrack feature this week, aside from the experimental flair with the two tracks from the Extracted Celluloid compilation, the scores used had been piling up in my cache for a while and didn't readily fit into earlier shows on their own, but the variety invoked did flow into each other quite quite naturally. After the ersatz opening, with weird electronics, German new wave and precocious Canadiana, allowing songs from widely-known films to shine grounded the ceremony.

The only main excitement behind the scenes were the various asynchronous clocks, giving the actual time a delta spanning 10 minutes, which led me to avoid stating the time that often this week, which benefits the podcast listener over those using the dials and the coils.

Gaze upon yonder playlist:

This is an example of campus radio.

After missing last week's show due to illness, I placed that planned playlist on hold and went with what was scheduled for this week: a tribute to shoegazing. Exclaim!'s article on shoegazing was the primary inspiration, which itself was apparently created as news of the reunion tour by My Bloody Valentine sets hold in North America. (New York's concerts are sold out, could I make it to Toronto's?) After missing The Jesus & Mary Chain's recent tour stop in Seattle, I figure seeing Kevin Shields again live would be equally abrasive (I caught Shields during a tour he did with Primal Scream several years ago, which was more riotous than gazy).

However, part of the show was sketched out with temporary tracks to be replaced with other songs from the station library. So I rifled through about 40 albums and singles to come up with suitable replacements, which somehow didn't skip in the preview studio but started causing problems in the booth when live. Hence, the rescue by Adorable at the start of the show after the J&MC disc started to stutter away in the player. Same thing happened with the Lost in Translation soundtrack, though I managed to rely on the cart and the backup tracks to save me.

Adding to all the fun was that this week's show was timed to land during the mandatory SOCAN tracking, meaning I had extra paperwork to fill out during the show. Sticking with the iPod would've been ideal during times of additional forms, but since SOCAN helps pay Canadian artists for any of their performances, I spent some more time locating dream pop from my home and native land to complement the Guitaro and Southpacific tracks I had; hence, An April March and Sianspheric.

Sadly, all this shifting around bumped a few acts off the playlist, so acts like Panda Riot, the Swirlies and M83 will need their own time to shine later. As well, the Mogwai profile was truncated, which cast aside some of their wilder songs along with leaving only one track from their soundtrack to Zidane: a 21st Century Portrait.

Overall, I should have spent more time on this show, just to better flesh out the entire shoegaze movement from the precursory elements to the second wave acts. It didn't help that I worked most of the Labour Day weekend, and when not working, celebrating about five birthdays in the wee hours of the morning. Still, the show developed its own ramshackle charm, almost like seeing the Jesus & Mary Chain live in their unpredictable prime.

Playlist commences:

Please note: Due to illness, there was no new show for the week of August 25th, so the first hour of episode #31 was replayed instead before abruptly cutting to salsa?? Barring any unforeseen prolongment in my ability to stay awake longer than two hours, I'll be back next week. Thanks

This type of show tends to my favourite, whereby the songs chosen for the playlist accidentally coalesce into little groups with themes that I wouldn't have of intentionally detected.

The first three songs gelled like a parfait, though I had to take the added step of the language warning at the beginning right before the Girl Talk song, which forced everyone in the studio to nod their heads and sing along (Henry's show had a guest co-host, much like Gavin's did after my show). Seriously: if you haven't heard Feed the Animals yet, especially fist-pumpingly loud and with friends, your 2008 has been deprived.

From there, the hip-shaking set scuffed its shoes as the songs got dirtier as one Baseball Fury became another. As the noise shifted to rhythm, particularly the long-queued but finally played Pixeltan track, ambience set in, which lead to another highlight: David Byrne and Brian Eno, together again on their new album Everything That Happens Will Happen Today. I had another song chosen from their 1981 album My Life in the Bush of Ghosts selected before choosing one from the re-release: the abandoned Qu'ran, which has a fascinating history with modern parallels. I'll look into playing it in the future since it is quite gripping, but I wanted more disjoint sounds, hence Mea Culpa.

Otherwise, blowing through some of my soul led to Marvin Gaye and his score for Trouble Man (with its grim yet unintentionally hilarious trailer). I only heard about this film recently and have been warned about its dodginess. Still, I didn't know about Gaye's interest in Hollywood before and there appear to be a few other soundtrack pieces to hunt down.

The show wasn't flawless, mostly as more equipment in the studio has become faulty and other people toy with the settings. The iPod couldn't go off its usual channel for some reason, which knocked the second CD player offline and messed up Gavin once he took control. I forgot at one point about the channel change, hence the bit of silence at the onset of the Baseball Furies set. News of the apparent problems with the half the turntables doesn't help matters, though as the school years grows closer, the drive to get all this hardware fixed hopefully accelerates. But everyone's loose and having fun whilst summer has a few weeks left.

Oh, the playlist, it follows.

As you no doubt heard, Isaac Hayes died on Sunday.

In light of the news, the show I was setting up for this week was junked to make way for a full-length tribute to the Black Moses himself. On a prior flll-in for Shake a Tail Feather, I played a good chunk of songs from the Truck Turner soundtrack, which has easily become one of my favourite scores over time. Rather than dip too heavily from that earlier show, there was a track or two I hadn't played before, which fit right in.

I tried looking for a mix of well-known and lesser heard tracks with a good flow, along with picking up a fresh copy of Hot Buttered Soul. Digging through the Stax collection of songs he wrote, I was floored by how many bona fide hits he wrote, even before he became a star on his own. No Chef, sadly; though you can hit up YouTube for What's a Prostitute? and Love. The official version of Chocolate Salty Balls remains elusive.

Here's some additional video:

• Isaac Hayes at Wattstax and introduced by Jesse Jackson (bonus footage: Richard Pryor on what Wattstax meant).
• The Look of Love and Never Can Say Goodbye from a live show in Atlanta 1973.
• Isaac Hayes on "The Rockford Files".
• And for silliness, Shaft as performed by a Ukulele Orchestra or by Father Ted.

And in one of those additional facts about Hayes I never knew: he was part-owner of the American Basketball Association's Memphis Sounds for a year or so. The team sported some of the funkiest uniforms ever, though the rest of the ABA teams could hold a similar claim.

Rest in peace, Duke of New York.

Playlist follows:

The show aimed for a charmingly sinister vibe and mostly pulled it off. There was a few recursive themes throughout the show, as I opened and closed with a combination of records I've searched for based on MP3's I've held tight for years. The DJ Food/Ken Nordine opener was a 10" gatefold I found recently with at least one additional gem on side D I should play later on. The Gordon's War soundtrack was recently re-pressed and includes the mighty Hot Wheels/The Chase, which I played in a lossy digitized format during one of my soul show fill-ins back before I had the wax.

Another bit of recursion included Mylo's and Diplo's tunes that loving sampled Kim Carnes' defining take on Bette Davis Eyes. And wedged in the middle were the early Daft Punk songs, which sound like they ruled 1994 with an iron fist and sound a wee bit, well, daft now. That set was bound by a song that they've sampled and a song that one of the Punks recently produced.

Hopefully I didn't sound too out of breath at the beginning since I was (pardon the Ontario slang) givin' 'er to the station in the rediscovered summer heat after working BC Day and stopping by to see the friendly rematch of the loosely affiliated CITR softball team versus the Vancouver Public Librarians. I even managed one at bat before zipping away: a solid single up the middle before getting a force out at third.

The mysterious gremlins that precede my show once again changed the settings on the console, which accounted for the moment of silence after the Mylo track. At least I know what the Program Mono buttons do now; put sound from device to mixer. I could insert the standard argument about people not resetting the equipment to as they found it, but those people likely have mothers already to remind them.

Playlist followeth:

The first-ever CITR Show Swap Week went quite well, right to the bitter end as Sunday featured perhaps the finest example of the ethos behind the campaign: indie rocker Chrisariffic, host of Monday afternoon's Parts Unknown (and a beast of a blocker at soccer) took on Anoop's Rhythms India to charming effect. It'll be hard to recap the entire week's efforts, but word is that we may try to top that shortly.

On with the regular programming and without overthinking this plate of beans, things were locked into a groove, with the usual mish-mash of genres. You get your Canadian content from Wolf Parade and Telepathic Butterflies and you get your soundtrack exposé with Repo Man. One of my segues had me caught in mid-laughter as Gavin Walker was doing one of his great impersonations in the background as I did my utmost not to utterly lose composure on air. And there were an inordinate amount of cool covers here too, which wasn't planned, but as with most things, overplanning can often ruin the experience (so yeah, no covers show redux for a while).

There have been two things I've neglectful of, which need quick highlighting:

1. When I was away earlier in July, Gavin extended his jazz show to cover my block. Oddly enough, the podcast software caps out at four hours at a time (though somehow, I managed to hear the unrecorded half hour through the online stream from Kitchener), but if you're keen, you can listen to at least an hour of how he used up my time. Not only that – along with an extra-special version of the Jazz Show with not only increased Canadiana but some of the distinguished Mr. Walker's own compositions. The Jazz Show from 2008 June 30th [240 minutes, 200 Mb or so? — it's big, you've been warned].
2. Now, for the sound of my voice, I actually debuted on air through the gracious hospitality of Duncan McHugh of Duncan's Donuts [podcast]. I show up 20 minutes into his Thursday nooner show and we get silly, including some assistance from music coordinator Luke Meat, whose show ANoiZE scares the elderly Wednesday mornings. There's a playlist on his site and more importantly, the show itself: Duncan's Donuts from 2007 December 6th [58 minutes, 50 Mb or so — it's not so big, but it ain't wee].

It's the inaugural CITR 101.9FM Show Swap Week! Filling in for your regular host is the impeccable Darren Gawle, host of Thursday evening's Stereoscopic Redoubt and carpenter extraordinaire. I can be heard this Friday as I take over Shake A Tail Feather, but here's this week's recap with Mr. Gawle (why did I spell it "Fowle" before!? Aye yi yi):

Greetings, and welcome to... Radio Free DCG? No, we'll stick with GAK shall we? Very well. For those of you who haven't met me before, I host the psych/garage show on Thursdays at CiTR. I've covered other shows outside my usual idiom before, but this was the first time I've had to follow someone else's format.

I thought I had the Zbiegniew Preisner angle covered until I discovered earlier today while prepping that I had hawked the Red and Blue soundtracks some time ago, leaving me with only the Double Life of Veronique score... enter Piccioni's Camille 2000 soundtrack to fill out the second half of the soundtracks feature. You'd think after hanging with my Polish grandparents for so many years that I'd have covered the pronunciation a bit better, so bardzo dzienkuje to the Polish contingent out there if they'll forgive me on that point.

The rest of the set followed as you'll see printed - if anyone recognizes the Richard Hawley song I played please let me know what the title is because I haven't a clue.

Playlist follows. It's good.

Has it been half a year? In many ways, having the radio show still feels fresh new but at the same time, it's definitely picked up a weird life of its own.

Sukia's wonky little song started the show off, a song I've held dear for a while for how spooky it is, mostly as my name gets chanted during the second half. From there, after a little stop in Canadiana, it was time to storm the floor with some of that blog house the kids are into. [Please reset your sarcasm metres.]

I was a tad sloppy with things as I was juggling a bit too much after forgetting to write up a few things towards the end, so there were stretches where I'm reaching for music to cue up and tripping over the poorly writ words at times. My throat was starting to feel scratchy too, which didn't become a problem during the show but it's something I need to monitor, especially since my day work involves talking on the phone a lot.

The profile on John Carpenter could've been a bit longer, personally, but there's not too much variation in his music. That said, it definitely inhabits a sinister vibe, which is becoming an influence amongst some recent acts, including the latest Portishead album.

Playlist follows:

Hello again. After taking a week off (thanks again to Mr. Walker for filling in for my time slot with an extended version of The Jazz Show) and having the web server take a nap whilst I was on vacation, I arrived back in Vancouver late Sunday night, leaving little time to prepare for this week's show. I fell back on a script I had setup a few weeks ago, involving longer-than-usual songs. Particularly, the Boredoms tracks, which easily took half the show to fully play.

Naturally, a forty minute track presents some problem for covering all the important nitty-bitty details which act as the grout that connect the songs together. The script I came up with at the last minute held up until the end, when I flopped around with additional information and tackled a few too many cart requirements that broke the flow. As well, dropping in a station ID in the middle of the song came off as clunky as the levels were off.

Overall, the longer songs allowed for a great arc to the show as they all took their time to build up to their climaxes. The Beck track acted as a gentle bridge from the generally mellow introductory pieces towards the heavy drones of the back half from Japan. If I had time, I would combed through the latest Boris album — I also had The Orb's comeback album cued to a track before deciding to let the show ride out as it had.

The only major change in the background is that I worked off my new laptop, which has a good chunk of my music from the older one, except that due to the file table differences between Windows and Mac OS X, some files wouldn't copy over due to funny characters. The good news is I figured out how to copy over the Romantic languages, but I still have to figure out what to do about the Eastern European characters. I also formatted the iPod for the Mac now, which posed no problem.

Playlist follows:

This episode veered to the random side of quality for a few reasons:

• I was relying on a few albums in the library to flesh out the middle of the show, which I had previewed during last week's fill-in show. However, two of the three I had elected to go with were missing, misfiled or mistakenly selected. Fortunately, I had a song by one of the acts, Adam & the Amethysts, lined up on the trusty iPod — they're a fine band from Montréal with inspiration from my hometown of Thunder Bay. I had hoped for one of the Lakehead-themed songs, but I'll have to bear that in mind for a future show. Fortunately, Elizabeth Shepherd was still in place, allowing me to give some exposure to the Vancouver International Film Festival. Fortunately, I brought some extra music with me, mostly in the form of seven inches, though I only spun Bobbie Gentry.
• With the recent death of comedian George Carlin, I felt the need to find a bit or two of his that was suitable for broadcast. Thankfully, I found a video of his classic Stuff and one of his more linguistic and faux-jingoistic tracks from one of his recent albums, Life is Worth Losing.
• Gavin Walker, host of The Jazz Show called early on the show to let me know that he wasn't coming in that night, so I had to cue up one of his past shows on the computer. I had to place him on hold briefly so I could do one of my segues, though I didn't check the levels so I sound distorted for the first few segments.

Otherwise, 'twas a breeze. A couple of songs I had in reserve for a long time were finally brought to light, including that brilliant song from the Awesome Tapes from Africa blog. As well, I condensed some of my earlier sketched soundtrack profiles into an Italian-based theme involving "dolce", including the classic score to La Dolce Vita plus the soothing sounds from the film Così dolce... così perversa and yet another majestic Ennio Morricone score, this time from Il Grande Silenzio.

I ran a little past 9pm with everything I was trying to do, which normally never happens since Gavin runs the tightest three hour show I've seen. Nevertheless, the show had a lot going on, so spillage was bound to happen.

Playlist follows:

Happy Bloomsday!

Somehow, this show didn't completely go silly, though it definitely broached that territory. Part of it was tied to having most of this setlist ready early, which may be comforting from a planning perspective but that doesn't make the show all that fun if it's all pre-progammed for days. Another part was that I was recovering from a busy schedule over the past few days, so I was getting punchy. Mildly punchy however, though there were points where I was ready to leap in and be a brat.

Were there errors during the Vivian Girls' song? Yeah: I was going to play another track I found, called Where Do You Run To which sounds prettier but I was surprised to find that the station had a physical copy of theirs lying around. I also switched which Women track played after seeing the recent addition of that Calgary band's album to the active station playlist; I was going with the shorter Cameras originally.

One thing you can try to listen to during the show is the faint singing from a rehearsing choir in the ballroom across the corridor from CITR. There were points towards the end of the show where I would hear the hundred plus singers in the background with the orchestra bits I was playing. I'm sure that would've been fantastic to mix together for you, the listening audience, but it would get tricky and I became distracted helping Gavin sort out some computer issues.

The playlist follows.

For a moment, I thought that was I going to have one of those frantic shows whereby I had too much music to spin in my time slot. Things turned out differently; despite the fact I was running late, I wound up playing earlier than usual since the usual host ahead of me was gone, leaving one of the gravest sins radio can have: dead air (unless you're on a John Cage or Pootie Tang kick).

As I scrambled to get something on air quickly, I wound up starting a bit early after playing a boatload of cart material as I set up, diving into the Disco Italia track as I dug up the other albums queued up. After doing some quick math, I located two additional tracks to fill out the extra time: Crystal Castles and a track from the Canadian Variations in Time: A Jazz Perspective compilation.

Otherwise, the show was heavily electro, starting off with Steinski (check out his WFMU playlists), an artist I'd never expect to find anything outside of low-bit MP3's passed from filesystems. Big props to Illegal Art for compiling his works together, and if you've never heard of them, your gateway artist is Girl Talk, then dive further into musical re-appropriation.

I could've easily devoted more time to the various soundtracks and scores to the film Children of Men. The first soundtrack features more of the pop tunes, though I'm more tempted to say the secular music when compared to the might of the original score, which is so overwhelmingly emotional, it can get a bit heavy. Of course, I couldn't ignore John Tavener's work, including the 15 minute Fragments of a Prayer – a holy, stirring work you probably won't encounter elsewhere on the radio. I recommend finding both albums if you can, just to contrast the rage of Jarvis Cocker's Running the World and Krzysztof Penderecki's contemplative Threnody For The Victims Of Hiroshima.

Meanwhile, here's this episode's playlist:

Covers can cast too wide a range of range of choices; do you go with the transcendent versions of classic songs? The forgotten gem that takes on new life? The bombastic tune that gets knocked down a few pegs? The ironic castaway?

In many ways, I tried them all and it still felt like I gave short shrift to the songs I wanted to include, which could mean a possible revisit in the future. I stayed away from the really obvious choices, meaning the likes of the Shatner and whoever wound up an Idol nowadays remained piled by the woodshed for a future fire.

After starting with the old CBS Special Presentation blipvert, the Mylo-involved electro take on the Guns'n Roses staple seemed nice, especially in contrast to the decidedly earnest, recent Taken By Trees version. Things sorta hopped around in the synthetic space before taking the bossa nova Pastel Vespa route to the actress set.

...which was mostly an example of weaker covers. The Scarlett Johansson album sounds so non-essential, and I can't tell if it's the production being too gauzy, Scarlett's voice not fitting in or just being nondescript. She (Zooey Deschanel) & Him (M. Ward) turned out all right, though the live performances I've heard show a bit more variety than the album. Milla Jovovich tackling one of Lou Reed's finest songs? It gets a bit hammy toward the end but there's a nice little vibe going on there.

After some reinterpreted rock, both classic and independent, I finally got to play a bit from one of my favourite discoveries: the fill-in Inuit janitor at a CBC station during a strike. This is a bizarre snapshot of true radio performance and if you haven't heard either the clips or the full half hour excerpt, there's gold up in the tundra.

I had to fade a few songs short to fit in a quick tribute to the now late Bo Diddley. The Jazz Show's Gavin talked to me during the track and floored when he told me that he played with him thirty-odd years ago for a couple of sets in town. Hopefully he mentioned that during his show since the story he told was dynamite, and I wasn't going to steal his thunder. I'm glad I was able to find at least one Diddley record in the station archives, since someone already had grabbed all the CDs but didn't return them. And thankfully, that album included You Can't Judge a Book By Its Cover.

Playlist follows:

Any show of mine that follows a concept show always comes across as slight, through no fault of its own. After last week's Asian fandango, episode twenty of rfg felt like it spun its tires despite the overall easy flow.

This time around, I had no rush to prepare since the two preceding shows tonight were offline, meaning that for two hours, listeners to CITR FM heard episode 49 of the Funky 16 Corners podcast, which resonated deeply since I took a few calls before I went on air as people were asking what show was playing.

I had hoping to start a show with the Kronos Quartet's El Sinaloense for weeks, but I hadn't found my copy of the album given to me until recently. I always love how the strings are compressed to the point where they sound like brass. The rest of the show went all right, though my iPod reversed the order of Cut Off Your Hands and Pumice — which brings to mind, and blows two additional tracks, for a future concept: an all New Zealand episode — then the matter of the Petroleum By-Products song buzzing a lot, at least in the studio. I'm going to need verification on a higher-powered sound system than the one I currently have at home (laptop speakers = the suck) but I was able to cut over to their MySpace page for a clearer sounding version. Maybe I had a demo all this time?

This week's feature was Henry Mancini's soundtrack to the 1966 film Arabesque, which still isn't out on DVD in North America for reasons unknown to me. I found a used copy of the soundtrack (in mono!) at Zulu Records during the Record Store Day a few weeks back, which was a weird twist. Admittedly, the movie isn't a super important example of the cinematic style of that decade, but it has a certain charm that's highly unique.

Tracklist follows:

At the 20 minute mark of this show, I thought that things were going weird.
At the 40 minute mark, I knew things were weird.
By the 60 minute mark, things were well past weird and were approaching bizarre.
By the end, it was certified loony.

I still need to sit down a properly listen to the entire episode, but when I set out to do my Asian Heritage Month show, I didn't expect it to transform into a piece of radio art, or a snapshot of my usual iTunes shuffle playlist. Nevertheless, the rough template of the show was pretty flexible, to the point I ditched the original opener with Ramasutra's classic song, before going straight from the Ensemble Georgika spooky choral number into two bits of radio collage from the Sublime Frequencies record label from what was captured on the frequencies heard in Thailand (which was a last minute addition) and Indonesia.

This would be the approximate twenty minute marker, from which we veered into more experimental-sounding roots music like the gamelan from Indonesia and whatever Khac Chi plays. By the time DJ Onra kicked in with Vietnamese-sampled songs, I was wondering if the plot was completely lost.

The Japanese sequence worked pretty well, though it was another perpendicular within the entire playlist. The Katamari set was something I had planned for a while, though I had hoped to do an entire episode to video game music (which is still doable but I have serious collecting to do to come up with 90 minutes that won't induce a sugar rush headache). The Lupin the 3rd sampler was a little clunky, mostly since I should have flipped the songs around so people unfamiliar with the theme could have heard it first from the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra, then hear where the punky remix came from. But at this point, with my substitutions, I already knew I was approaching a time crunch, especially with the next major focus of the show yet to come.

Hopefully, not lost in density of all the different styles of music (remember: Asia = huge) was the look at Cambodian music of the 1960's and 1970's, which was inspired by a Metafilter thread on the pre-Khmer rouge scene. It's hard to convey the sense of what was lost without reading a lot into the stories of all the musicians involved, but hopefully, you don't find the music corny or sappy; knowing that most of those people were killed by a fearful regime just for singing innocent songs about life and love induces a tragic irony to their delightful songs. I had another two or three tracks lined up after Dengue Fever, who revive a good chunk of that history with a Californian jazz-rock approach. However, although I could've split the Cambodian spotlight onto another show, listening to too much of that music at once and without proper guidance would've been overwhelming to the already erratic flow. And somehow, the Dead Kennedys snuck in before that, along with Pizzicato 5 and Shonen Knife to provide a familiar beacon to the average Western listener.

Hopefully, in time, this episode proves to be a creeper, in that it'll resonate greater upon either repeated listening or allowing time to give separation to all my running around in the stuffy studio. (Summer is approaching and the fan in the back is already mandatory, though prone to making my papers fly.)

Playlist follows:

The future ain't what it used to be. This episode had a vague nostalgic feel, mostly since part of it covered a range of space age-inspired themes, though not in a super kitschy way.

The spotlight on the soundtrack to Forbidden Planet by Louis and Bebe Barron provided the main highlight, featuring primitive electronic sounds from a movie now over half a century old. Those harsh analog tones remain spooky to this day, though the sound textures sound warm now in this fairly digital age. The death of Bebe Barron recently allowed for the parts of the soundtrack to drift again through the mp3 blogs, which was a pleasant surprise. Between this and the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, you can see how electronic music developed as a soundtrack.

You can probably detect part of that influence in bands like Broadcast, Stereolab and Boards of Canada, who are doggedly retro in spirit. However, in continued nostalgia, these were the bands I was heavily listening to ten years ago, along with Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds and DJ Shadow. Seriously – if I had a radio show back in 1998, I'm sure I would've spun all those acts to death.

Aside from that: the lethal combination of Parliament and Basketball Jones brought a flurry of phone calls, I can no longer identify or pronounce "ineligible" and with the host of the previous show Some Sound out recovering from oral surgery, fill-in and computer maintainer Ben allowed me to briefly chat on air before airtime, though I wound up speaking into the wrong microphone. I could check the podcast server to see if anything was audible during that time, but I'm skeptical. Expect bad levels and echoing if I do find it.

Playlist follows:

Coming after last week's full-length South American episode, this show had the potential to suffer in comparison as it strove for more eclectic sounds. As well, to counteract the almost total lack of Canadian content, I had to beef up my Cancon requirements this week, which always makes me a little uncomfortable since I don't necessarily always think about nationally qualified music at first.

However, after we kicked off with the scrappy Dan Le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip track I've been holding for an opener for a long time, the show leapt to life off the script as the setlist went by. The two tracks by The Coral have been kept for a while to be timed with the Portishead album release, due to the production work on one of their tracks. And the Bobby Cole track was always ready to be the closer.

The Parkas were always a band I always held in reserve for some great Canadiana, though in the matters of full disclosure, I went to high school with two of the guys, who are brothers. From another section from our home and native land, Danny Michel was an act I caught on Thursday at the Railway Club. I lucked out after a casual work outing for darts and drinks and ran into one of my four-pitch softball teammates, who was there catch him live. Michel is a natural performer, unaccompanied save for his guitar and pedals. And yes, if you were there, that was me howling falsetto through his cover of Peter Gabriel's Games Without Frontiers, either showing my prowess in French or just plain showing my age.

I had three calls during the show, two of which come to mind immediately. The first came from the guy leaving work asking about MSTRKRFT, who have entered my mind as a mandatory act to see either live or as a DJ set based on what I heard from one morning Pacific time (hence, one night Australian time) from Triple J's show The Club a few weeks ago.

The other call came on the wings on figuring out the Elbow Beach Surf Club song, but wound up being yet another first: a request. After a quick search through the archives, I found Whitey, which I admittedly hadn't heard of before but I dug the tracks I quickly scanned through and spun one. Naturally, I had to ditch a song along the way, so expect some Sonic Youth in the near future. Another victim from the playlist due to the length of the show was Panda Bear, since the show ahead of me went into overtime, though gloriously as Radio!! Radio!! ended with some vintage radio transmissions from the 1970's.

To think: on paper, this show looked to be a bit of clunker, but it turned out to have a life of its own, as though I didn't fully understood what I created. I guess that makes it art then. From what I thought were failed hands, it took flight. Awesome show, great job!

Playlist follows:

No other remedy for a day full of Scotch mist than my first full-length theme episode: South America. Most of this show involved Brazil, both modern and old, involving acts like Bonde do Rôle and Cansei de Ser Sexy, which was fortuitous timing on my part since they posted their latest single on their website earlier today, which I planned for by leaving a little gap in the show to plug it in once it became available.

From there, there was plenty of hopping around both time and space, mixing the sixties' sounds of bossa nova with the aural haze of the seventies soft pop, the post-punk of the eighties with this decade's baile funk. I tried keeping it mostly Brazilian, though the Peruvian bugalu heard on Vampisoul's ¡Gózalo!: Bugalú Tropical Volume 2 could not be skipped after a recent record store binge.

The end of the show featured music from City of God, a fantastic movie that I utterly recommend to watch and I need to go see the sequel/spin-off City of Men. It looked like I was going to run into overtime, hence the need for me to talk over the heavy dance track before the supple sounds of Onda.

I had glorious help with the Portuguese pronunciations from a co-worker, though I definitely mangled a few when I wasn't paying attention to my notes. The Spanish bits were definitely easier to pronounce, though that's only because I knew about the certain tricks like the double L's sounding like Y's. The Portuguese M/N blur toward "ng" vexed me greatly and I drifted toward my usual Finnish fallback, though a mix of French finesse and Polish curviness made me sound somewhat less loopy.

No concert listings this week, I'm afraid; go to Quinn's blog if you need to figure out shows are upcoming. (If you have Cut Copy tickets, do want!) I also scaled back on my Canadiana, so expect next week's show to beat the northern drum a bit more.

Playlist follows:

A sharp blast of Yukon-chilled air brought a taste of winter back to the Lower Mainland, including a bit of Friday night flurry action that caught me somewhat unawares and completely soaked as the monster-sized snowflakes fell furious. Thankfully, listening to the African middle of this episode helped keep me mentally warm and otherwise thermally bewildered.

I was really hoping to have my homemade kalimba ready to play a bit during this episode, but finding out my Japanese-toted construction kit included a difficult mix of softwood, hardwood and tiny nails that smashed the former when it couldn't penetrate the latter thwarted that minor ambition. Originally, I was going to include more tracks featuring the little thumb organ but the twenty or so I wound up using sufficed.

Other than blowing the background music to this week's concert listings (obtusely labelled as Green Street Intro and taken from Beastie Show Breaks, which is something I want more information on), which means I can recycle that for another purpose (maybe as my show intro?), the show went quite well. It drifted more on the experimental side, but I trust I guided you, the gracious listener, through all the peaks and valleys.

If you're curious about Jodorowsky's plans for his version of Dune, read on. As well, I'd recommend listening to the Wojciech Kilar's theme to the film Salto on a stereo since headphones didn't really give that piece as much justice as the studio's monitors did. It's actually quite groovy.

One last drag: I hosed part of my blog's layout, so now there are bad colours and weird things sticking out in ways I'm still figuring out how to repair. I may have to rebuild from scratch, except ditch the strange double stylesheet issue and then really sit down and figure out all the modules, widgets and other bizarrely documented code fragments that get my goat. I know what I want it to look like; I'm getting stonewalled from anonymous points.

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A groovy yet sorta sloppy show, mostly from a scripting angle since quality control was compromised after some shoddy proofreading lead to a few unreadable passages. I knew trouble was down the line after I found a few uncommon typos. The full plunge occured when the Department of Redundancy Department kicked in with the soundtrack to the movie soundtrack arose. Ick. The headbutt to the microphone midway didn't help.

However, after a little Venture Brothers action, the show started well with the double vinyl combination of The Constantines and The Zoobombs (keen listeners can hear the turntable startup on the latter track).

The main feature was on Jerry Goldsmith, specifically for his work on the original Planet of the Apes movie from 1968, which starred the late Charlton Heston (who had a mini-tribute in the previous week's episode). Goldsmith's soundtrack was sampled obviously on the U.N.K.L.E. track that followed the feature, though I played the obviously sampled version as my first track ever on the first episode of the show, so I opted for the remix by Cornelius, which fits in its own way thematically.

For those of you curious about the Indie Rock Chess Federation, you can check West Indian Girl's site for more information.

Playlist follows:

Not to give indication on how off-kilter this show was, but the clock on the wall is about three minutes ahead of my watch, three minutes behind the mixer and maybe two minutes behind the podcast server. Add to the fact the computer leapt ahead another hour and getting the time right is as accurate as a blind dart throw.

The show started off oddly, as you can surmise from the podcast upon listening. The show before me every alternating week, the gloriously twisted Radio!! Radio!! was operating single-handedly by Long John Tanner, who was without his compatriot Nimrod this week. So, for the last ten minutes or so, I sat in, kept mostly to the background though Long John did a little bit involving a classic Dr. Demento bit and inviting me in on this fancy audio wine party. The podcast actually starts towards the end of that show since that permits me a moment of grace.

Grace was replaced with ineptness when I failed to check that my subtle little input was activated before I started to play my iPod, leaving some godly-sized chunks of silence as I scrambled to figure out whiskey tango foxtrot happened.

From there, my quickly assembled tribute to Charlton Heston, which shoved aside part of my original introduction. I found the Chuck Hestons as part of a quick search for some soundtrack music from some of Heston's films, mostly since I messed up the name of the composer for the one soundtrack I do have (and will be next week's feature): Jerry Goldsmith for Planet of the Apes.

Otherwise, the back end of the show held up as planned with Michael Nyman and Damon Albarn's work together for the movie Ravenous. Nyman's minimalist compositions make for a great backdrop, since the repeating textures over time form into a drone or dirge, with brief bursts of sound that surprise. Albarn's work away from Blur has been an utter delight, with Gorillaz being the obvious highlight though unexpected when you consider how dark some of the ideas behind the songs are.

The mini-feature on Bradford Cox from Deerhunter and Atlas Sound worked out quite well, though I was actually hoping to add another set focusing on Constellation Records and Godspeed! You Black Emperor, though I was unable to find another suitable playlisted track in time (then I screwed up one of the record labels; Pas Chic Chic are on Semprini, another great Montréal label) so I went tangential with Do Make Say Think. Those sounds are a well worth returning to.

I might drop some more thoughts later, but let me get the playlist up now before I collapse from exhaustion (something I have to get used to, since my days now begin before 7am, and I usually get this update ready by midnight).

Would you believe that all the acts with black in their name were unintentionally lumped in together at first? No, I wouldn't either, but there they all were: Black Mountain, The Black Angels and The Black Lodge Singers. I didn't plan it that way, but there's something to be said about the idea of the colour black and heavy-sounding music. Ladytron's Black Cat could sorta fit in with that theme, but no, they were paired with Ladyhawke.

This episode was fairly commanding overall, especially when compared with last week's show, both in song selection and whatever I happen to bring to the ceremony. Naturally, when it comes to blackness, nothing compares to Black Belt Jones, which has been one of those movies I tormented visitors to my place, though I don't have a VCR to play that VHS tape on anymore. I don't think it's out on DVD yet (one of the sequels, The Tattoo Connection, is but not the funky original, WHY?!) but do I have a DVD player right now? Or a TV even? Don't ask.

I've been intending to start and end a show with the same cover, since most other shows I listen to that tackle covers tend to play them together. I do have a version of Björk covering You Only Live Twice, though the audio quality is quite spotty and Björk herself has dismissed her version as inferior, so Nancy Sinatra opened and Sex Mob closed with that, one of the lovelier James Bond themes.

The ten second clip of the first ever recorded song (with reasonable audio quality) can be found through First Sounds. You can also discover more about the instrument that did the recording: the phonautograph. Be thankful that I didn't sing the entire French verse for Au clair de la lune I wrote out, or unthankful since I was in tune finally after practicing out of my register most of my time. And, as mentioned during the show, Powwow Radio is your source for online streaming of Native American drumming. Finally, if you want to dive into the messy history that is the Goonies' soundtrack, start with this petition.

The only major error which I ran into was a failure to update the iPod with the running order after the concert listings (backing track: Georges Garvarentz with Nues Dans L'eau). Originally, it was going to be the Goonies' track, then the Bollywood theme before ending with the song from The Party. At one point, I thought about playing Fratelli Chase after the Black Belt Jones set, which itself was supposed to skip the first version of the main theme for the sound effects laden version used in the opening titles, but I wasn't sure how much of the record I was going to play. Didn't mind the repetition myself but after whatever happened with the podcasting PSA, well, it's sorta fitting.

I got the feeling like a machine, and that ain't no way to feel.

Playlist follows:

I hope everyone had a merry Easter (though the other one's next week for the Orthodox) or at the very least, a great start to spring.

I must've sounded exhausted on air, though that was no fault of the programming — my brother had flown in for the long weekend and we spent some time up in Whistler skiing and then touring around town. As well, it was my first day at a new job, so that evening's broadcast had me nearing the end of my day instead of the middle (or the odd start). Reading off a printout from the dying gasps of a printer toner didn't help me either.

Nevertheless, the songs were generally mellow, though I had to start off with Portishead now that the first single has entered our lives. That led to the Portishead members' work inbetween releases (Geoff Barrow producing Stephanie McKay's (mostly unheard of) debut and Beth Gibbon's partnership with Paul Webb, since aside of a cover for a Serge Gainsbourg tribute, there's been nil since 1998.

Otherwise, the rest of the show was as forecast earlier: relatively mellow, mostly female and a look at the soundtrack to Wes Anderson's The Darjeeling Limited. A mild British folk thread appeared, which I'd like to explore in some detail in a future show once I sort out some disk space issues on my laptop, which houses the bulk of my audio collection with my physical copies still residing in storage in Brooklyn.

And as you can hear at the end of the show, Gavin did arrive, barely in time since he had been at a birthday party. There was some confusion about if he would arrive for other reasons, but it's all my own.

Playlist follows:

Cead Mile Failte!

I've hit the double-digit mark in scheduled programming, which isn't substantial in an epic sense but it's a nice monument as beginnings go. With it being Saint Patrick's Day, naturally some tribute to Ireland was in order, hence The Muppets' rendition of Danny Boy as the opening. As well, the featurette on Gavin Friday and his old band, The Virgin Prunes made sense. I honestly wish Gavin would release tonnes more music but I can sympathize with the concept of following one's muse, since it's an ideal I'm fairly stuck with.

Naturally, based on the age of most of the material I was dealing with, it was time to dive into the next step in studio comfort as this was my first show that rocked the wax. This meant that this show ran into some novel technical issues as I learned how the mixer and the turntables interacted. This accounted for the miscue with the Captive soundtrack as I discovered the console controlled the turntable remotely. Then there was the late start to the first Gavin Friday song when I spun the record back to the start of Side A, but into a point where it would skip along the introductory grooves, requiring manual intervention. That doesn't fully account for the weird problem in the midst of the Santogold where the iPod elected to skip ahead to the Rautakoura song; on air, I faulted it to a sneeze but realistically, I have no clue what happened since I was far away from it and by the wheels of steel, figuring out which turntable was labelled #1 and #2.

Playlist follows:

Several themes bounded throughout this episode:

• Player pianos of the future. This was promised from last week's episode and promised to anyone I spoke with over the past few days, so I handcuffed myself to this segment. Part of the music came from Music for Maniacs, who had a feature on player pianos (as well as an obituary notice on Mort Garson that included the delightful concert listings background) that referred to Veronika Krausas' recent concert with the USC Thornton School of Music. I kept the set at 10 minutes since the constant percussive sound the player pianos use can get a bit extreme – that and the more experimental nature of the compositions are already a hurdle for the common listener to contend with. (Gavin, the host of the jazz show after mine, was shaking his head whilst listening, muttering admiringly about the insanity.) This meant that one omission was the song by James Tenney that was composed in tribute to the well-renowned composer Conlon Nancarrow.

  Too many write-ups for the player piano depend on alliterating the letter "P", which I tried to avoid when dealing with pianos, pedals, paper and perforations. But then, things got worse when the one song title I ought to have written down ended up tripping me royally: I'd Love to Live in Loveland With a Girl Like You. What a perfectly-executed problematic performance.

• The RZA's soundtrack work. This spotlight was going to be a lot longer since most of his tracks tend to be quite short (as most movie cues tend to be). However, a late attempt at locating the Afro Samurai ended up nowhere after the copy at the station vanished, so I left what I had as is.
• The Blocks Recording Club. Blocks has been a great artist-run community for the past seven years, with their emphasis on spunky "you can do it!" pop with anyone and for anyone. However, the set had to be tinkered a bit after I mistook Republic of Safety as being a Blocks booster (though Owen Pallett has recorded numerous times with them), so it was time to brush up on the compilations in the studio, then add another song based on the RZA snafu.
• German pop. Utterly unintentional since I had some other songs set aside for a future show dealing with music from that country. Klee had been bouncing around in this playlist for a while, but Siriusmo was a late addition (and I only discovered their Germanness later), the Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet cover of Kraftwerk's Autobahn was a must-add the second I found it via Chunklet and deploying the Cloudland Canyon motorik-styled song afterwards became mandatory. Of course, I found out later that they were half-German, which solidified the Teutonic theme. The lyrical imagery in the Arcade Fire B-side sealed the deal (along with the Hungarian military choir that raises the second half of the song into majesty).

I thought with all my last minute modifications, the show would've run short, so I threw on the Goldfrapp song midway to fill out the time. Turns out I was wrong; one song near the end got bumped into the future, which killed off one additional unintentional theme that was lyrically present: happiness. I think the subtext of that positivity rubbed off on the entire show nonetheless.

Playlist follows:

This episode went all weird.

Firstly, there was a meeting before airtime that took a good chunk of my concentration, leaving me to scramble to the studio and quickly prepare some ancillary bits for the show. The first half hour was a blur as I focused on filling out bits of information and sneaking into the corridor for a quick snack at times. That first half hour included a good dose of songs I had tried sequencing into previous shows, but failed for various reasons, which meant either an overfamiliarity (to my ears, at least) with those songs or the sense that these songs were cast offs for a long time. Furthermore, it didn't help that I power-talked my way through certain segues; that said, I practiced reciting the blurbs quickly in a fit beforehand to ensure that I didn't write any icky sentences, so there's a good chance that rubbed off with what I read on air (unintentionally, mind you).

One important thing to remember: when modifying the song sequence in iTunes, remember to synchronize the iPod after finalizing. Hence, the confusion of when the Dayglo Abortions song would play. Originally, there was going to be a three song punk set, with X-Ray Spex lumped together with Brazilian Girls beforehand. However, the original ending set was junked, so instead of creating a new ending, I fleshed out other parts of the episode, including the late addition of the Fila Brazillia track into the mix. That said, guess who forgot to copy the changes to the playback device — w00t.

This forced me to instantly reword on-the-fly a good section of what I had written earlier, which at least shows that I don't have sound like a complete tool, um, when deviating from the given text. Hopefully this means I can start scripting less of future shows explicitly. However, by now, I haven't taken to writing in the cart additions, meaning I can check the clock and know when the best time to drop a PSA, promo or station ID.

Then there was a ticket giveaway — my first — which lead to two calls, but no one wanted the ticket to the Beach House concert (March 19 at the Media Club). The callers were pleasant enough, though, so I didn't mind the failed attempt at free stuff. Still felt weird but perhaps the listenership wasn't properly familiar with them, despite Henry with the show before mine playing one of their other songs.

Musically, the punk from the eighties makes for a great listen, partly from a nostalgic point of view though more from the DIY production values as some of the higher-end mixing gear of the time become more accessible. The Pocket Fishermen track is a great example, with the samples at the beginning (and briefly at the end, which the iPod clipped for one dumb reason or another) and the awesome compression on the guitar solo.

I'm definitely feeling a strong South American vibe now, so there's the potential that a near-future show will be devoted specifically to the sounds, both traditional and new, of bossa nova, funk and dance. An early scan of my current collection has a strong Brazilian pull, but I'm going to see if I can dig up songs from the lesser-heard countries. I have friends from places like Colombia and Ecuador, so guidance is doable in case I get stumped. Peruvian folk looks feasible, oddly. If any of you have any recommendations, do email me.

I wish I had found more Vangelis soundtrack work, though. I didn't really want to go with the obvious Chariots of Fire theme, or what little I remembered from his work for 1492: Conquest of Paradise, but I did want to look into his scores for some early Jacques Cousteau documentaries, amongst others. Time cut that plan short, but I'd like to return to him at some point.

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Best show yet, though the assembly was monumentally bewildering as the first hour had been sequenced multiple times. The only survivors of the vicious edit before the Nick Cave and Warren Ellis spotlight were the Radiohead to Pylon set, though I spent a good deal of time finding a non-corrupt version of Four Minute Warning since my copy cut out three minutes in (which won't do when the warning must be four minutes long. Plus six seconds).

Things clicked together when I found score excerpts on Carter Burwell's page devoted to No Country for Old Men, which was referenced in a CBC article on diagetic soundtracks, diagetic referring to on-screen sound whereby there's no "imaginary" music that wouldn't be heard by the people in the scene or the movie. I briefly tried coming up with a diagetic set, but that wasn't going to be easy to prepare in a week.

The first bit became a tribute to the Academy Awards, featuring some of the score and songs I had played in an earlier show, Episode 3. From there, the show crystallized as I found the Guitaro track, which was beautifully gauzy for me to find more shiny/noisy music. Afterwards, closing with Siouxsie to Mark Wilkinson to Junior Boys allowed for a gentle, though sinister, denouement. I was hoping to wedge in the PSA about organ donations in there but the timing was starting to slip.

For those of you expecting technical flaws, the only one I ran into is when the next host unintentionally poured out the coffee I had left outside the studio. I sorta forgot I left it there since I only had a few sips before going on air, only to find it gone once I queued up the last song. Gavin said it looked bad and old, which stems from the cinnamon sprinkled atop my latte. It's just as well since for the past six months, I had cut caffeine from my diet almost completely, with the odd bit once a week.

Otherwise, 'twas a line drive home run. Yea me.

Playlist follows:

This was a fun show, both on air and off. Hopefully part of that merriment translated properly for those of you in the audience, but I scripted some segments to be more on the silly side rather than stupid (the faux-pilot announcement at the beginning and the attempt at reacting a scene from The Warriors being sorta highlights), found the more bizarre PSA's (though nothing will ever beat the Friends of CiTR advert) and ran with more fun tunes, especially the covers.

Behind the scenes, I got to the station early after a longer-than-expected bike ride in the relatively warm sunlight (fun fact for non-Vancouverites: today was the first day when the temperature was done in the usual warm weather way, whereby the initial temperature is followed with the slightly cooler temperature by the water). UBC was surround with a light mist, cooling the air noticeably. I hung out with some of the news and arts teams, some of whom were running into technical difficulties with recording telephone interviews when not shooting the breeze about lighter topics. As some songs played, I had visitors sitting in the studio with me, playing with the most recent addition of the totems I bring with me when on air: an old Lupin the 3rd doll I found at the Kitsilano Sally Ann for $2. (Sometime, I'll properly highlight the weird distractions I carry in for luck.)

As songs go, the Breakbot song was a blessed find from one of the MP3 blogs I spin through: Hyperbole. The X -> LCD Soundsystem -> Poni Hoax sequence came out from the iPod shuffle during one walk around False Creek. The Epoxies cover of the Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains was something I had in my collection of music for years, but I was floored to discover that the station had a better quality version of the song in their archives, which came from the Dirtnap Across The Northwest compilation. That compilation includes a lot of Vancouver bands, though some defunct like the New Town Animals.

Playlist follows:

From a technical standpoint, the show was pretty steady. The only obvious slip was blowing the intro to the Stereoheroes track by playing an empty CD player for a few seconds. At another point, a second song was starting up in the background as something else was broadcast, but I caught it before the eager song really picked up.

However, the primary error I ran into was during Red Astaire's Song to Angie, a caller asked what the sampled vocals were from. I didn't manage to write that bit of info down at the time, but before the song ended, a quick Google search brought me to Angie Stone, who originally sang Wish I Didn't Miss You on 2001's Mahogany Soul album, out on J Records. However, I retrieved half that info in time for the segue, relaying the rest about Angie Stone at the next break. The sad part was that I had that information at one point as I compiled the playlist, but I edited it out and blanked out when asked. Not a major issue, but yet another to bear in mind when preparing shows going forward.

Great track, nonetheless. Of the initial versions of the first half hour of episode #5, Song to Angie was the only cut that survived the mighty scalpel. Originally, there were going to be more tracks in the vein of the Stereoheroes, drifting more into the early 1980s synth sound that collectives like Valerie champion. I'll probably place acts like Maethelvin, Narctrax and Digikid-84 later, but the flow in the first half hour felt bogged down. The Portobella fit snugly in their place, which has been a track I've been hoping to air for two years now (it didn't survive the cut during my shared two and a half hour slot with Mr. Kent and Mr. Faulconer on CILU back in June 2006).

One fact I'm particularly proud of, which is utterly unimportant; this was the first show that was (pretty much) done to the letter. There are going to be no carryover tracks to the next week's programme, meaning that I don't have to relocate albums or songs. Another thing I'm happy about – the Oscar nominees for best score have been completed in this their third week, which was a good topical bit to explore but the typical scores that get nominated aren't the sort I typically listen to. This means more time to devote to my more favourite odder gooses from the cinematic realm.

Playlist follows:

Overall, a solid show. Obviously, comfort is kicking in slowly though the first minute or so remains a basket full of nerves. The previous host, Henry, had to take off in a hurry, which gave me some unprecedented setup time.

The main change is that I used my iPod for the bulk of MP3's, though there was a set where I switched back to the laptop to compare sound quality (which led to my main mistake for the evening: forgetting to take the cue off when I was trying to get some cue music for the concert listings. So I miscued the cue, which joins the mental list of "Things to be aware of when mixing live"). The iPod sounded a bit flat when compared to the laptop, though the last half hour sounded fine when working with the less compressed soundtrack pieces. I may have to tinker with the equalizer to see if there's a optimal setting, though based on the options, each song may require its own setting. I also dropped 3 CD's in the show, which continue to broadcast the highest fidelity. I should try some vinyl soon (outside of Burli however; I played the Aislers Set a few weeks ago from a recorded seven inch).

The show flowed all right, especially the clean mixing in the first half hour. My current thoughts have the last half hour dragging a touch though, probably since the pieces rang longer than I initially thought. Part of that stems from my jostling of soundtrack selections almost up until airtime, but another part is from some behind-the-scenes action: I'm in the first week of a new apartment and I'm still not sleeping properly. I think the apartment is too quiet yet the walls are too thin, meaning amongst the still of the night, whenever the dreaded elevator is used, or footfalls clack on the tiled lobby floor, I'm up. I'm trying earplugs now, which makes me feel shut off from existence, thus makes me uncalm. I need white noise, or evening baths, or something.

Next week's show should wrap up the Oscar nominated scorework, which though important, allows me to move back to the weirder soundtracks out there which are starting to form a logjam through my cachet of selections. I'm also looking to do some theme shows soon, right now centring on covers, space and the ever-so-critical Canada-only focus.

Playlist follows:

This show was sketched out earlier than the other shows, mostly since the weekend before airtime was when I moved to a new apartment. It's hard to say whether the additional time allowed me to spot the little patterns or commonalities with some of the selections, but the flow was quite connected.

The initial focus was on the Oscar nominations; I focused on score at first but upon finding one of the nominated songs, and then another song by the same act on another soundtrack, the sequence gelled nicely, especially since I threw on a few other older film songs too. The look at Last Gang Records was accidental but allowed for a nice spotlight on a recent Canadian label.

I had a minor spell of paranoia since during preptime at the station, I was somehow privy to a programmers' meeting, where critiques of other shows were discussed. Not that I was expecting much analysis on my show yet, but it's both good to know that there are critical listeners out there, but at the same time really awkward. I know there's room to improve, especially since I'm only three weeks into this gig, but yeah, my nerves were rattled for a bit.

There was the odd mixing snafu as I tried juggling more sources this time, including an attempt at talking over music, then changing to the next song afterwards. I have to map that out better, along with remembering to properly skip songs when running out of time.

Update: one factual error on my part in the show. V for Vendetta was written by Alan Moore, not Grant Morrison. I received an email after the show correcting me.

Playlist follows, with links to the acts, songs if possible.

The second show went a lot smoother than the inaugural, mostly due to comfort. I still have to remedy the pauses between fades but this time, I managed to use multiple inputs instead of relying on the laptop, along with properly cuing the next tracks for level checks. I also got my first call, which was startling due to the strobe indicator reminding me of a fire alarm firstly. The Ebony Bones track must've leapt out to the caller, which shows good taste for everyone involved. I definitely require time to get settled into the studio during the exciting DJ change, though Henry was a tremendous help with additional pointers.

The main thing I need to do is print out the script instead of constantly toggling back and forth between iTunes and the little word processor. Delays of a second or two really add up when I'm not only sliding the level bars but as well as unpausing the player or scrolling past the older verbiage.

Since I had to give a show name to the programmer in order for me to provide proper playlists for content requirements (yea Canada! 35% mandatory anything), I ran with radio free gak for now, until I come up with a better, wittier show title.

Playlist follows:

Technically, the show remains untitled, but giving it a temporary name helps clarify what actually happened, and what actually happened was almost 90 minutes of airtime. The prior show, Radio! Radio!, ran a few minutes long and I played a few longer PSA's as my inital panicky realization that I was live to air set in.

The learning curve was steep as panic set in when a faulty RCA cable meant that the first half hour of the show was either in mono or double mono until I could replace the cable. I do have an MP3 (or two) of most of the show recorded through another studio, but before I upload them here (preferably as a single file), I need to re-listen to the show and see what I did wrong, which would be plentiful upon reflection.

Still, no major dead air, along with no complaints (thus far; I didn't even give the number on air), means a raging success until proven otherwise.

Playlist follows: