A friend had a radio show on the James Madison University station. I had just released the cassette of my first album, 'I Should be Shot,' giving copies to all of my close friends. It was partly alternative rock, mostly electronica. Most of the music sounded horrible, several generations layered. Everything about the project was cheap—but it was the best I could do at the time. Anyway, while Brian was giving the weather and news, he had some of my electronic music in the background. It was my first time, and it was awesome.
Years later, I put together a compact disc of some of the electronic pieces I’d done throughout the years. That album was called 'When Glam Was Glam,' my second. There was an electronica show on WNRN in Charlottesville called Download, and it was hosted by D.J. Audiorapture.
On a Friday, I mailed the D.J. a copy of 'When Glam Was Glam' (When I typed up the bio, I needed a photo. I didn’t have any good pictures on my computer; so, in an attempt to be clever, I stapled a grade school photo to the bio. It later occurred to me that the D.J. might have thought I was some sort of child prodigy.) That Sunday, the D.J. played “Usual Darkness.” He started a set with it and talked about how it was an interesting thing to get in the mail. He gave my website address on the air—something he never does.
D.J. Audiorapture played “Usual Darkness” a few times and “A Colleague in Finland” a few times. The last song of mine I heard him play was the most abstract piece on the album: “Orchids in Winter.” Sometimes it’s cool to walk around the house listening to a creation of yours being broadcast to thousands of people. Other times, it’s difficult to hear something so abstract being broadcast to thousands of people—wondering, or assuming, that the people don’t like it.
Not much later, I put out a cleaner version of 'I Should be Shot,' this time on compact disc. All of the alternative rock songs were performed entirely by me. It was painful to listen to “Psychic Zoo” on WNRN’s Localmotive. It was the worst of the alternative pieces. My singing was horrible, the drums were horrible. When the song started, I had time to call my parents so they could hear me on the radio. It meant a lot to all three of us.
I released a demonstration disc with the two most popular alternative songs and some of the electronica. I sent that to the Localmotive. That week, they played “Lunch With Yoko,” which is my favorite recorded work. Some static noise got worse as the song went on, so they cut it off early. A week or so later, I tuned into the show and heard the D.J. say that they had just played “Heinz 57 Born Again Christian.” It had some crazy free-from sections, and I may have worried what the audience was thinking had I been listening to it live.
When I was considering putting all of my creative energy into music, I felt that I had to listen to the Localmotive—to keep up with the local scene. Now that I’m focusing my energy on writing and writing promotion, I’m so glad I don’t have to listen to all that local crap anymore.
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Spirit Rage Music / Blog
My Music on the Radio
A friend had a radio show on the James Madison University station. I had just released the cassette of my first album, 'I Should be Shot,' giving copies to all of my close friends. It was partly alternative rock, mostly electronica. Most of the music sounded horrible, several generations layered. Everything about the project was cheap—but it was the best I could do at the time. Anyway, while Brian was giving the weather and news, he had some of my electronic music in the background. It was my first time, and it was awesome.
Years later, I put together a compact disc of some of the electronic pieces I’d done throughout the years. That album was called 'When Glam Was Glam,' my second. There was an electronica show on WNRN in Charlottesville called Download, and it was hosted by D.J. Audiorapture.
On a Friday, I mailed the D.J. a copy of 'When Glam Was Glam' (When I typed up the bio, I needed a photo. I didn’t have any good pictures on my computer; so, in an attempt to be clever, I stapled a grade school photo to the bio. It later occurred to me that the D.J. might have thought I was some sort of child prodigy.) That Sunday, the D.J. played “Usual Darkness.” He started a set with it and talked about how it was an interesting thing to get in the mail. He gave my website address on the air—something he never does.
D.J. Audiorapture played “Usual Darkness” a few times and “A Colleague in Finland” a few times. The last song of mine I heard him play was the most abstract piece on the album: “Orchids in Winter.” Sometimes it’s cool to walk around the house listening to a creation of yours being broadcast to thousands of people. Other times, it’s difficult to hear something so abstract being broadcast to thousands of people—wondering, or assuming, that the people don’t like it.
Not much later, I put out a cleaner version of 'I Should be Shot,' this time on compact disc. All of the alternative rock songs were performed entirely by me. It was painful to listen to “Psychic Zoo” on WNRN’s Localmotive. It was the worst of the alternative pieces. My singing was horrible, the drums were horrible. When the song started, I had time to call my parents so they could hear me on the radio. It meant a lot to all three of us.
I released a demonstration disc with the two most popular alternative songs and some of the electronica. I sent that to the Localmotive. That week, they played “Lunch With Yoko,” which is my favorite recorded work. Some static noise got worse as the song went on, so they cut it off early. A week or so later, I tuned into the show and heard the D.J. say that they had just played “Heinz 57 Born Again Christian.” It had some crazy free-from sections, and I may have worried what the audience was thinking had I been listening to it live.
When I was considering putting all of my creative energy into music, I felt that I had to listen to the Localmotive—to keep up with the local scene. Now that I’m focusing my energy on writing and writing promotion, I’m so glad I don’t have to listen to all that local crap anymore.
Reply
The Van Halen Syndrome
Into my possession came a DVD of a Van Halen concert, 1983. I have a few of their albums and enjoy listening to them. I've always respected them as exceedingly competent musicians with good creative streaks.
There's a "backstage party" sequence at the beginning of the video, where David Lee Roth toasts to "Alcoholics Unanimous." Judging from my anthropological observations through the years, I'd say he had probably also smoked a good bit of weed and done a pile of cocaine.
His vocal performance bordered on adequate. He was so wacked out on drugs that all he was capable of doing was running around like a complete idiot. So, what he did was run around like a complete idiot. Stumbling, slurring, babbling...
...And he was being cheered on by thousands of people. Is there any other line of work in which a person could get away with such a thing?
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