A State of Nirvana

Okay. I get it. Nirvana’s “Nevermind” was a really important album. Maybe not to me, but I understand the cultural significance. It’s just that I don’t need to be reminded of the 20th anniversary of the release of “Nevermind” every waking moment, from every media outlet I come across. Flip around the TV news channels or radio stations and within a few minutes there’d be some mention of the Sept. 24th anniversary. I could take or leave the band. My husband Peter Keepnews will never let me forget that I made us leave a Roseland Ballroom concert with Nirvana headlining. I had a splitting headache. That show on November 15th, 1993 also featured The Breeders and Half Japanese. I made Peter leave after about two or three songs. My thought was, we’ll get another chance to see them. Well we all know that didn’t happen.

The view of Seattle from my aunt & uncle's porch


I wasn’t thinking about this anniversary when I booked our annual trip to the west coast, which includes a side trip to visit my aunt, uncle and cousin in the Seattle suburb of Bellevue. It’s a beautiful area, rimmed by mountains. When we go visit I’m more interested in seeing my elderly relatives and relaxing in all that natural beauty rather than checking out the local music scene.

Peter, on our visit to Snoqualme Pass

Before our flight, Peter was mentally torturing me by singing alternate versions of “Teenage Spirit” set to his own lyrics. ("Here we are now—Dunkin’ Donuts—we want bagels—egg and bacon. Let us buy them—now they’re cooking—here they are now—let us eat them. ") This went on ad nauseam for a few hours until I threatened to tickle him mercilessly.

My cousin, Ken Broadwell, had a slightly more blasé perspective on Nirvana, having grown up in the Seattle area while they and others were in their formative years. He thought of them as just an average bar band when they started out, and rattled off a bunch of local band names he said were much better than them. But isn’t that how most bands get started—playing some dive bar where the drunks may or may not care if you entertain them?

What was most fun was the tangent we got off to about college radio. We talked about how these stations were the first to pick up on Nirvana. Ken told be of the night he first heard “Nevermind” on a college station. The young DJ mentioned he’s just gotten this fantastic new record by a band called Nirvana, and proceeded to play “Smells Like Teen Spirit” about 10 times in a row. Ken was impressed that the DJ could do that on a whim. He then talked about how important college /community radio was to him as a teen and into adulthood-- KEXP especially, which he says Paul Allen destroyed when he got his hands on it. Ken talked about how he heard his first blues records on college radio, as well as the first time he heard The Velvet Underground plus a number of bands that don’t get regular radio play.

For those who don’t know KEXP’s story, according to Wikipedia, “In 1972, the station started operations as KCMU, a small album rock station staffed by University of Washington students that broadcast at 90.5 FM to the UW campus… In 1981, under the direction of Jon Kertzer, KCMU turned to its listening audience for public funding after the UW's budget was cut. KCMU played mostly indie rock but also was the first station to play rap artists like Grandmaster Flash. Throughout the late 1980s, the station tapped into Seattle's burgeoning music scene. Members of local bands Soundgarden and Mudhoney worked as volunteer DJs, as did both Jonathan Poneman and Bruce Pavitt, the founders of Sub-Pop. During these years, Billboard Magazine called KCMU "one of the most influential commercial-free stations in the country." …In 1992, KCMU dropped many of its volunteer DJs and elected to run syndicated programming. Some listeners and DJs considered this a betrayal of KCMU's democratic mission, and formed a group called CURSE (Censorship Undermines Radio Station Ethics)… A program called World Cafe, based in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, was a particular bone of contention. CURSE encouraged local KCMU supporters to stop donating money to the station in protest. Volunteer DJs who criticized the station's policies were fired, although a lawsuit from CURSE resulted in that policy being struck down by a United States District Court. World Cafe was dropped from KCMU's lineup in 1993, but none of the fired volunteer staff returned to the station.” I remember hearing the basics of this story that Wikipedia recounts, and thinking to myself that another little piece of independence had been taken away.

In recent years KEXP got a licensing deal to air some of its programming on New York City’s WNYE. KEXP’s promo people proclaimed the artists on its playlists were the most adventurous music we were gonna hear in years. Excuse me??! I guess it didn’t matter to them that the music played on WFMU (which has been on the air 50+years), WNYU, and any number of community / college stations in the tri-state area doing freeform and similar formats was more interesting in a single day than a whole year’s worth of their playlists. I was happy to see KEXP’s licensing agreement quietly ended a few months ago (although replaced with programming from another local indie station that I don’t much care for).

This ugly little story of a college radio station takeover keeps happening with upsetting frequency, the most recent example I know of is KUSF in San Francisco, which broadcasts in exile over the web. Before I go off on another tangent, I’ll save that rant for another blog after I head down there for our next leg of the trip. But getting back to Nirvana, whatever I may think of the band, they still got their start on independent radio. Tech-savvy music collectors such as myself are finding music on the web, but we need to remember that the vast majority of the casual music consumer still gets their music from radio. For kids who grow up in the computer age that probably won’t be the case. I’d like to think the next Nirvana might be discovered though the independent outlet that community radio has to offer.

Connecting Orbits

One of the things I love best about radio on the local level is the great sense of connection to the community of listeners and musicians. Back when I was first hosting a radio show at Morristown High School’s 10-watter, WJSV, I remember the thrill of getting a phone call during one evening from a listener in Summit, NJ, saying they really liked the music I was playing. This was such a big deal to me, because to that point I thought the only people listening were my mom and some friends in town.

For me, getting recognition from a listener wasn’t/isn’t an ego thing. In those days I was painfully shy, so radio became an easy way for me to express myself. It was more about making a connection—sharing the music I loved with whoever wanted to listen.

This sense of connection really blossomed after I joined the staff at WFMU. So many great things have crossed my path as a result. My orbit now includes local musicians as well as listeners who are as local as an internet connection gives them. One of my musical connections—guitarist Gary Lucas—is in part responsible for my meeting my husband Peter Keepnews.

Connections were really in evidence at Saturday night’s Transpacific Sound Paradise broadcast on WFMU from Barbes in Brooklyn. One of Barbes’ co-owners is Olivier Conan, who I first met a long time ago when he played with The Humphries. We’d bump orbits from time to time. I watched as he saved up from his job in the Town Hall Box Office until he and friend/fellow Frenchman Vincent had enough to open this wonderful little club. Olivier still finds time to play, most recently with bands like Las Rubias del Norte and Chicha Libre. He also runs a record label to put out music he loves. His musical tastes are as eclectic as a WFMU DJ’s. It’s led to these wonderful broadcasts of live music on Rob Weisberg’s Transpacific Sound Paradise that I help engineer.

At these broadcasts I also get a chance to connect with listeners. I had a lovely little chat with listener Kevin, who’s a big fan of my show (and many others at WFMU). He reminded me that I sold him a copy of The Beatles White Album at one of our record fairs. I also found out Kevin’s now-departed wife, and I and Terre T. all share the awful connection of breast cancer. It made me feel good to hear his encouragement over my surviving this, and he told me how Terre really helped him as well. I was really moved. And it was great being able to show longtime listener-friends Phil Catalano and his wife (who is an oncology nurse) that I’m past the worst and doing well.

One last musical connection comes from Peter Biedermann, who will play live on my WFMU program today (Monday Sept. 19^th). How did I meet Peter? Biedermann was introduced to me through Monkeyworks’ Ian Smit , who is bandmates with percussionist Steve Meltzer who was in Dots Will Echo, a band that played live on my WFMU show back in the 90’s. Lots of orbits bumping together here! Peter hails from Butler, NJ, strengthening that local connection, and plays a lot of house concerts and libraries in the area. We share a love of fingerstyle guitarists, and many forms of prog-rock., and he’s a durned-good guitarist himself.

Connecting orbits like these are a constant source of delight for me!

Freedom is freeform WFMU!

There ain't nothing like WFMU. We lightheartedly promote our radio station as the "Freeform Station of the Nation" but I do think it's appropriate. Where else can I jump on the air and play whatever I fancy this week? Program hosts are given complete freedom within FCC guidelines to go where their hearts lead them.

Tonight, my heart is being led to Barbés, a wonderful little club in Park Slope, Brooklyn that also embodies the spirit of freeform, with a leaning towards world music ensembles. Tonight at 6, I invite you to join me & Rob Weisberg for another Transpacific Sound Paradise broadcast on WFMU live from Barbes in Brooklyn. It's free admission, and being broadcast/streamed in real time, with an archive available after the fact.

On tap live: Patrick Farrell(accordion) and Ben Holmes (trumpet), who mix their adoration of East European music with the odd bit of 60s pop and other strange musical bedfellows; uproarious Balkan-punky Barcelona band Freak Fandango Orchestra, and CHIA's Dance Party, brassy spin-off of acclaimed Colombian roots band. We start the night with a listener meet-up at 5pm

Barbes is at 376 9th St. (corner of 6th Ave.) Park Slope, Brooklyn. See you there!

Memories from 9/11/01

9/12/2011

First time blogger, so where am I going with this? Loosely, I recently got the urge to post stuff related to two of my favorite things—radio and music. Here with this blog, it’s not as if I have anything vitally important to say. Just every so often I need to share my thoughts, even if only the ether is listening. And the ether is a pretty important medium for the transmission of sound, so that grounds me back to these earthly pleasures.

A bit about me-- I’m a participant, not a spectator. If something needs doing I’d rather do it myself than wait for someone else to come help me. And I have a great desire to help others. Also I’m an unrepentant procrastinator, good at starting (and sometimes not finishing) multiple projects. The intent is there. As a Gemini, the gravitational pull toward the arts and media has been very strong in me.  The ol’ split brain really works well in me, although I have a hard time explaining how. Maybe this is the time (from time to time). But don’t expect my writing to be any great work of art. This is just the place where I plan to put down thoughts about things that appeal to me (and hopefully some of you).

I didn’t intend to mark the tenth anniversary of the attacks on 9/11/01, but this is as good a place as any to start my radio story.  It’s probably a good idea to write down my memories of that day, however strong they seem just ten years afterward, because my brain is like on a sieve and one day these thoughts will be gone. Anyway…

On the brilliant blue-sky September Tuesday that was 9/11/01, I was doing my usual day-off-wake-up-slow routine. Grabbed a cup of coffee and wandered into my home office to turn on WNYC-FM for NPR news and a little classical music before starting my day. Steve Sullivan broke in to the news to report a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I thought to myself, ”What a terrible shame. I’ll bet the station’s going to go off the air.” And it did a few moments later. So I switched to WNYC-AM, and went into the living room to turn on the TV, called my parents to reassure them I was home and okay (they freaked out during the first WTC bombing because they didn’t hear from me that day), and went to tell my husband Peter what happened.

CNN was showing the tower burning, and I still didn’t register how bad things would get. Fixing breakfast, I heard that a second plane had hit. I switched the TV between CNN and NY1 with WNYC in the background to get more info. When the first tower fell, NY1’s reporter Kristen Shaughnnesy (Sp?) had been giving a live report. Her feed went dead. For several agonizing minutes the on air hosts looked despairingly at each other, calling out her name a few more times. I thought of my co-workers at WNYC and wondered if any of them had gotten injured or worse. Shaughnnesy did re-appear by pay phone, but that may have pushed me to call in to work and offer my help.

I called the WNYC newsroom, and our president Laura Walker answered the phone. She sounded truly frightened. Walker was trying to help answer phones. I asked if I could help in any way, and she handed me over to the news director Kevin (whose last name I now don’t remember). He told me the building was being evacuated and he didn’t know where they would all go. I suggested the NPR news bureau, which was in a small office off 42^nd & 2^nd.  I called NPR and Manya, a former WNYC host who works there, answered the phone. When I told her what was happening with WNYC, she said she’d have to get permission first but thought it was a good idea. She called back to say they’d agreed, and I got Kevin back on the phone in my other ear, relaying the message. After it was settled I asked if they needed more help, but Kevin said to stay by the phone at home. I didn’t hear back for an excruciating amount of time. I then called back and was told to go to the NPR bureau with my DAT recorder, mics, cables, whatever I could use for a remote kit. Peter had also decided to go in to help at the NY Times, where he was a copy editor.

Getting there from our upper west side apartment was more difficult than I thought. People were milling around, rushing off to places they felt safe. It was utter chaos public transportation-wise. Subways had been shut down. Busses were utterly jammed. I managed to cram myself into a downtown bus, then walking across town on 42^nd Street.

When I got to the bureau, lots more people were milling about but with a sense of purpose. Manya was taking care of reporters’ pieces. My friend & co-worker Ed Haber had already fashioned a makeshift studio in somebody’s office. NPR’s Manoli Wetherell and Neil Rauch were trying to figure out how to connect to WNYC’s transmitter. I helped in any way I could. WNYC’s Mark Hilan and his then fiancée Amy Eddings snuck back into the evacuated Municipal Building where the studios were and continued broadcasting for what, 12 hours straight? What a magnificent job of holding things together! (He and Amy ended up spending the night in the building, even thought the power had gone down.) Someone else eventually took over in the evening, and my DAT recorder was put into constant use archiving the events as they unfolded.

Hours flew by. Ed and I were extremely worried that our boss Steve Shultis hadn’t been heard from since the attacks. Tuesdays were his transmitter maintenance days. Luckily he’d done the work Monday and was simply stuck in a subway train for hours. Ed & I and the other engineers were trying to improve on the broadcast conditions. I also was answering phones. I vividly remember getting someone on the line who’d said that bloody papers had fallen in her family’s yard. “Where should we bring them?” the caller asked. I had no words, so I asked Kevin, who wisely advised me to tell her to take them to the police. After a while all those calls and the bureau frenzy blurred to where I can’t describe anything more specific that happened.

Shortly after 9pm I noticed there was nothing broadcasting on the AM station. We made a few calls and I think we got Mark and Amy, who told us the power went down. Ed and I thought, “That’s it. We can’t do any more from this end.” John Keefe, who would become news director, was told this and made us realize that we had to get the station back on at all costs. We got numbers from Steve of every engineer or co-worker living in NJ who might be able to drive to the transmitter in the Meadowlands and I (and I think Ed too) began calling. A few didn’t answer their phones, and one person hung up (she admitted to being deep asleep) before I reached Rich Kozoil, one of our contract engineers. Rich, understandably, didn’t want to leave his two young children home alone (his wife was stranded in another state) but he finally agreed. He rigged up a telephone handset to plug into a patchbay; we called the number and were back in business. (The line dropped once again after that and poor Rich had to go back to reconnect).

Rich Kozoil's solution to keeping WNYC-AM on air

In the wee hours of the morning John Keefe said it was okay to leave. When Ed and I got to the street it was completely deserted. What an eerie quiet for New York City. Hardly a car going down the street. Nobody was out walking either. As deserted as a scene out of a SciFi monster movie, only the monster this day was real. Couldn’t get a cab—there were few going by. Ed walked a good way with me. Just about when I thought I’d have to walk the whole way home a cab came down the street and I put my hands together as if praying, begging the driver to stop. He did, and I was so grateful I gave him a big tip. He was on his way home and afraid to stop, but something made him stop for me.

Climbing the 6 flights of stairs to my apartment I stumbled into Peter’s arms. We hugged and cried. We survived one of the most difficult days of our lives, and amazingly none of our friends and family had been injured or died. I spent the day and most of the night doing what I love doing best—helping people get through their lives via the medium of radio.

We are truly blessed, and continue to see more birthdays with music and media in our hearts.