“Our Pandemic Radio Adventure” continues, and I’m back on my bullshit–by that I mean counting the mixtapes I’ve had to assemble for you. What must I have been thinking–that this would end soon? Dear listener, we have eleven months to go!
Listeners will experience a hefty serving of music “randomly found in my twitter timeline”--there was a lot of that at this time. People and organizations were responding to Current Events in whatever way they could. This week had seen the infamous “post a black square” day on social media (a gesture adopted by the famously non-racist Washington Redskins, among others); it had also seen the repurposing of the fledgling Bandcamp Friday phenomenon as a fundraiser for activist groups. “Throw some coins in the bucket in the direction of social justice,” I plead.
To my current embarrassment some of the music that accompanied this crowdfunding sounds eager and pandering, as if the artists were hoping their songs might be deployed as interstitial music on Democracy Now! or some such. I won’t name names; perhaps you can guess by listening.
I relax my policy of “not calling people out” to take a shot at Juno Records, whose shipment to me was apparently traveling the wrong way around the globe, as it was two months late. Lockdown be damned, I am a needy consumer! At least I admit that I am being “petty.”
Mispronouncing “Kilamanzego” as “kill-a-man-zay-go” (instead of “kill a man’s ego”) is something I can only admit to now, as I was cluelessly butchering it at the time with blithe confidence.
And while we’re on the topic, were we really “starting to talk about” returning to live broadcasts? In June 2020? Good grief!
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 June 10, 2100-2300:
all the lying, all the stealing, all the cheating is working
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
It’s been a tough week, hasn’t it? INDEED IT HAS.
This episode finds me losing count of the number of times I’ve had to submit a pre-recorded program. Whatevs, counting is for nerds anyway.
Trying to get through the week as best I can–by playing tunes that are “dear to me,” I say--but this is a lie! So many of these tunes were pretty new to me. Maybe they became “dear” quickly, but due to my supposed shallowness of affect I doubt it.
I’d just stopped drinking in the previous week, so the whole George Floyd thing found me without a protective emotional buffer. I sound tired and dead inside despite how angry I must have been. Maybe just exasperated. Everything had come to a grinding halt except the state-sanctioned murder of black people.
Anyway–”No Agreement” is definitely a song that has been dear to me for a long time. No lie about that one.
You wouldn’t think someone would gravitate toward a Fela record the way people gravitate toward a 4ad or Factory record but I really dug the sleeves on those Celluloid reissues of Fela records in the 80s. And then, listening to the recordings changed the way I listened to music, just like 4ad had once upon a time. Also “No Agreement Today, No Agreement Tomorrow” would be a fitting title for my memoir, if only anyone wanted to read it or if I wanted to write it in the first place.
I don’t talk much in this episode, I must really have been at the end of words, as they say. I sound a little more peppy at the end of hour 1 than I did at the beginning.
“Short, angry tunes” await in the second hour, “appropriate for this time”–if that’s your mood, that’s something to look forward to. This, at long last, is the truth!
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 June 3, 2100-2300:
public service announcement for all the people out there
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
This episode and the next are about clearing the decks, a “before and after” tableau, if you will. They are about how I cannot seem to perform the deck-clearing in a spontaneous, immediate way, and how I compensate (if that’s what I am doing) by making big changes at the level of concept. All of this is a fancy way of saying (as I seem to do with increasing frequency) that it was the end of one era and the beginning of another. I guess this archive is a way of keeping it all straight.
At this time my show was still “airing” on Wednesday nights, but because Covid was keeping us all out of the studio I was required to submit pre-recorded episodes on Tuesdays. This meant that the episode had to be planned, sequenced, and pasted together at some earlier point than that. I’m dancing around the unpleasant topic of May 25, 2020. I have forgotten what I thought about George Floyd’s death in the first 48 hours afterward. Maybe at the time I considered it merely another in a long line of murders (which of course it was), another video I didn’t want to see (which it also was).
One theory of “how music programs should respond to tragedy” is that they should offer some kind of escape, and I guess this program works in that way, if you want to see it that way.
You know what, though? I’m through “making sandwiches” and giving a platform to my inner critic. Let him get his own, and let the haters hate (I don’t imagine anyone considers this little radio show important enough to “hate” on it). What can I tell you? I am not 100% consistent and I am always doing my best in the moment. What “my best” is will always be an elusive, ephemeral thing, as I keep re-discovering.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 May 27, 2100-2300:
time won't always heal and it eats at my mind
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
More sandwich-making: the first few songs of this program provide me with comfort on a chilly fall evening in the Northeast, provenance be damned. Listening to the program I don’t really care where the songs came from, whether the artists are dear to me, whether I cared enough to buy actual records by any of these people, and so on. It’s an enjoyable listen, and at the end of the day do we care about anything else? I honestly don’t know.
The Handle > Throwing Muses segue works surprisingly well. Shades of what I like to call old magic. The Fall > Thundercat was also not as bad as it should have been.The lovely Walt Thisney track transforms beautifully into Fever 103°. I am making the good stuff happen!
The program doesn’t really sound “like me” until Loraine James, about half an hour in. I would say this isn’t a great use of my precious airtime–measured against the potential for self-expression–but it wasn’t really “airtime” in the depths of whatever, so does it matter?
Re. Loraine James–far be it from me, a walking cautionary tale in so many ways, to tell anyone how to manage their grind. But I found Lorraine James’s music at around this time because she’d uploaded an entire album-plus as a “name your price” download on Bandcamp (RIP btw) and here we are, a few years later, with me having just about everything she’s released on vinyl in my collection. IDK, seems like that strategy helps people get into your music? (It’s the same with KMRU, though his music does not appear on tonight’s program.)
Anyway, the “broadcast” is happening “under considerable duress,” I say, but I no longer have any idea why. Blessed forgetfulness, it has relieved me of the knowledge of why this week was worse than average.
“I hope it isn’t too much to ask that you stick with me,” I add. You know, I am really down on myself and I need to stop being that way. It WAS a fine evening, half of hour 1 and almost all of hour 2 were perfectly good.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 May 20, 2100-2300:
we all dance into the fire
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Here is a program that chased my dog upstairs (kudos to Cry Robot for that). Her taste is something of a mystery, though. There is plenty of the sublime to experience in this audio file. Where else are you going to hear Slum of Legs transitioning into Little Richard? That’s right, nowhere.
In the spirit of making what management types call a “sandwich,” though, re. a few tracks in this selection whose producers shall remain nameless: Desperate for digital content and too lazy, I guess, to rip vinyl to .mp3, I play these “name your price” downloads (let’s admit it, they are freebies) at the expense of real music. There, I said it, but again, let’s call things what they are. Taxonomy matters! I will take this conviction to my grave.
I think it was at this point that I got tired of listening to me. Even though there is nothing that bad about this program, just the usual stuff. “And I hope you do” is a phrase I use, like, three times in the episode–strangely, given the chance to be spontaneous, I think I’d be less likely to go on autopilot like that.
I mean, this is thoroughly enjoyable most of the time. It’s a pretty good playlist. Just look at it, for goodness’ sake.
So there we have it. Positive bread, negative filling, positive bread. Abbondanza!
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 May 13, 2100-2300:
someone hold my phone 'cause i can't hold my tongue
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Honesty time. I dread these programs between the beginning of the lockdown and the death of George Floyd.
Yet somehow this program has my energy. I can’t deny it. Maybe it is inescapable.
I have this thing about noting the passage of musicians into the next life. Not sure where that comes from–possibly some feeling of responsibility, like it is my job to report current events? Sometimes I really feel the loss and sometimes I don’t. It’s somehow insulting to both Peter Greenfield of the Stranglers and Tony Allen that I sort of put them on the same level in this way. Surely there are others at the station who care more about the Stranglers than I ever did. It’s pretentious. But, like I say, my energy.
Another true confession: I don’t like the Mark Mulcahy song but I am lucky enough to have had a true companion during the pandemic who told me to play it. Such are the facts of life.
Change is on the way, but you knew that already.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 May 6, 2100-2300:
the world got time for games with you
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
FAM. I am trying so hard to get back on the horse and process the last 39 months. I have to honor the muse when she appears..
I detect a weirdly naive positivity in this program’s energy despite what must have been happening in my life right around this time. Happy Mondays, Pia Fraus and The Room In The Wood seem like vestiges of an earlier sensibility. But who cares? So much of reception depends on frame of mind. I happened to be feeling good the morning I listened back to this, so…
Mrs. Miller seems like self-parody, though, emblematic of a show whose concept is exhausted.
OTOH I don’t care how many times we play never say never, it will not be enough.
This program was mostly smooth and pleasant, intermittently interesting; not a bad way to spend a hundred and twenty minutes, I guess, but can I not ask for more from these mixtapes?
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 April 29, 2100-2300:
why must we wait to do the things we want to do
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
From my contemporaneous notes: "I have to say I enjoyed this show, it seems to demonstrate that I had made peace with pre-recording and had found a way to still be good." Wow, just wow. I suppose this is going to happen a lot, but I am just not as keen on this episode as I was at the time.
Listening to these broadcasts from another time always brings up a jumble of associations--what was happening then, what is happening now, etc. You know the deal. Get me out of this dream!, as the wise man says somewhere in this mix.
Even though it often feels inauthentic, there are a few surprise things here that probably shouldn't hit right but do anyway.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 April 22, 2100-2300:
just because I really love you
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Welcome to Eighties night! Are you up for some Cocteau Twins? Shriekback? Breathless? Durutti Column? Crass? The Wedding Present? How about two versions of the same R.E.M. song? "Sure," I can hear you saying. "Sounds tubular." Public life had stopped when this broadcast aired, so why not time itself?
I must say, though--as good as the segues are (some of them are quite good), this show doesn't have a center. My methods may be new but the old shortcomings remain.
There aren't many chances for me to speak (I don't anticipate any complaints) due to the scarcity of instrumentals here, but there are lots of people, seemingly, burying their vocals in tonight's music. I remember this impulse--the vocalist needs to do something on the track but doesn't want to be understood, lest they be exposed, found having actually nothing to say.
I am trying to deprogram myself from these remembered impulses, but I think we'll see it happen on the program before it happens in real life.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 April 15, 2100-2300:
i will love myself
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
"I keep falling asleep during this episode," my notes say, "but I assure you it is quite good." Here's hoping you can (a) stay awake and (b) find this assessment accurate. Despite the distance between then and now, it's tough for me to be objective.
I know there are strong tunes here, but the segues seem weak to me. Plus, I just don't sound up for it. Hopefully you can excuse this--I'd had a bad week at work; specifically, I was threatened by a student and then scolded by my superiors for setting a boundary with this person. Prepare yourself for many work anecdotes to come. Things don't get better, despite what you may have heard.
In re. one of the artists on tonight's program, I should have said "Abby Normal" and not "Abe Normal." I had certainly listened to that release prior to playing it, but I suppose not carefully enough, or maybe I didn't retain the experience. Who knows. There is a lot of that to come too.
Sleep well, if it's what you need.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 April 8, 2100-2300:
hold on like i do
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Bless me, listeners, for I have sinned! It has been 575 days since my last post. And to paraphrase the world’s most famous TERF, I solemnly swear I have been up to no good.
Serendipity and dialectics: as I embark on a mission of piecing together the past, I find that this show performs a feat of alchemy, in piecing together various fragments of shows that I had planned on doing before the Great Lockdown, and yet striking me as “a little too perfect.” That’s what my notes from the time say, and I have no standing at present to second-guess them.
Early on, I feel like this program “makes no sense” and is “too retro”; it doesn’t seem to get into gear until about 20 minutes in, when we go from African Head Charge to TNT Roots to Breathless. And that’s just it, as pleasant and weird as this strikes me, I’m still struggling for content in this early-COVID period when the old can’t die and the new struggles to be born. I’m running on the fumes of old staples like The Blog That Celebrates Itself (RIP). Sometimes a thing is playing (let’s say Jay Glass Dubs) and it sounds like “my show” as I currently understand it and sometimes a different thing (I don’t want to name names here, but let’s imagine a band with a name that sounds like “Octo Fins”) and it just doesn’t sound like me.
I could never have guessed I would be here, but here I am. Thank you for hearing my confession.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 April 1, 2100-2300:
I am pickled, I am done
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Now it can be told! Methods and agendas disclosed in this week's blurb. It's all here.
To begin we have to go back to the very early days of this program, when I decided (a) my library was not enough and (b) I had to chase the ghosts of my past and prove that I could follow the "rules" of my old radio station from undergrad days, which I was never good at doing. There's a lot to unpack there but I'm sure somewhere along the way I have referred to what I often do as LARPing and that is basically the jist of it.
We used to have this rule about "currency," according to which your playlist was supposed to be 30% "current" records. This meant playing discs from the "current" bin, and what was in there had been added by the station (NB: not necessarily "released," just acquired) within the last 3 months. To the extent that I was ever successful at this, it was only just: early on I had a lot to learn from the past and somewhere along the way I decided that the present (at that moment) wasn't up to my standards and apparently I wasn't open to many new experiences. I look back on this as a failure that I have to correct. For whom? The voice in my head of course.
So, anyway, in 2013 or so, when this show was less than ten programs old, I was auditioning lots of new releases on Spotify and building my playlists that way. I would often call this "radio magic" or whatever, but it was a kind of fraud. It helped, but didn't help, that at some point we got this software at the station called DeejayPro that could incorporate Spotify into your broadcast (controversially, I guess).
This created a couple of messes: one was the general fakeness of many programs, even though I was sharing music that I genuinely liked--not to mention the use of that awful, unethical app--and the technical issue of playing those supercompressed mp3s (evident in last week's disaster).
Apparently it took a global pandemic to force me to reconsider, but on this broadcast I said goodbye to the old ways. I would only use actual sound files in my possession, currency be damned--this meant using what I owned and what I was buying, which also meant a deeper commitment, which I consider a good thing. It also meant the return of dynamics and crazy levels, which I guess is also a good thing because it's teaching me to embrace imperfection even though I hate it.
So this particular show features a lot of material I picked up on the very first "Bandcamp Friday," five days prior, as well as things I'd bought recently. But, I have to say--it also included a lot of promotional freebies (including yet another cringeworthy Membranes track--what is it with them?), plenty of channeling 1985 and 1986 (so what else is new), and, let's face it, a big focus on the white past and not the black future. I don't know how it's possible to do a show that's "honest" and at the same time "in bad faith" but I manage.
That said, I really miss old R.E.M. and I did love the then-recent viral video of Michael Stipe singing along to "Underneath the Bunker."
I also miss Richenel and I miss the days when that This Mortal Coil cd blew my little mind; now it's all wrapped up in guilt and regret. Here's hoping someday it will sound fresh again.
Since this program was broadcast, 410 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 55 times. I have delivered 54 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. That gives us a lot of time to work through my issues, and there are many of them.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 March 25, 2100-2300:
Didn't know it was a song you hated to sing
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
There is a weird symmetry to this post, as it comes (seemingly) at the end of the pandemic era even as I am trying to make sense of how it began. Maybe there was a point in dragging my feet all this time. Increasingly I think things happen as they are meant to, when they are meant to. My brain must be getting old, soft, and smooth.
Everything shut down very quickly in the second and third weeks of March 2020. By the time of this broadcast New York State was under a lockdown. I knew in advance that I would not be able to do this program "live," and I foolishly went ahead with the show that I had planned anyway.
(Ironically, on the night, I was unable to connect remotely to the airplay computer to do my weekly programming tasks, so I ventured down to the station only to find out that I--and everyone else--was literally locked out. So this was how things were going to be.)
"Going ahead with the show that I had planned anyway" meant basically digitally recording a Spotify playlist and uploading that digital recording. The results are--well, here they are. Listen for yourself. For me, every segue is perfect (timing-wise if not conceptually), every song sounds crushed. It's a travesty but I am committed to posting everything, even the travesties. "Dododo (Ekassa No. 1)" is such a great recording too. I guess I will have to buy that box set after all.
There aren't even enough current tunes here to satisfy that fetish for me. It's tough to know at this point what I was thinking. I was probably just scrambling. How long did I think the lockdown would last? One week, I say at the end. How optimistic was I?
Did I invent the term plaguecasting? I am taking credit for it in any case.
Since this program was broadcast, 416 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 56 times. I have delivered 55 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I'm not sure any of them sound worse than this one, but miracles are always possible.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 March 18, 2100-2300:
For they knew someday the sun would die
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
For months I left my page-a-day calendar on March 10, 2020. At first it was genuine shock and refusal. I probably thought in the beginning that it would just be a few weeks. After a while it was a more self-conscious, pretentious gesture, my own Hiroshima clock. God knows what I must have been thinking on the day after society stopped, but this program is a real "twilight" show, the first dispatch from the new world in which we found ourselves, and the final example of the "old way" of doing things.
In a real example of not appreciating what you have while you still have it, I sat in the Kenny Ritter Memorial Studio for the last time, mostly pushing buttons to play music I didn't care much about. "I don’t understand why I play things like Snow Ghosts," my notes say. I must have heard it weeks before and not hated it, which is about as much positivity as I could muster. I don't even like "quiet rituals." I want loud ones. The segues, early on at least, were abysmal; what even was the concept?
To the extent that I mention events in this program, I shouldn't have, because I couldn't be sure they were going to happen, and I'm almost positive that they didn't.
Since this program was broadcast, 411 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 55 times. I have delivered 54 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. The future is here. We're soaking in it.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 March 11, 2100-2300:
Progress gives way to a fiction
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
A great show awaits you, and in even better news, it's my show! The only element missing is Lady Catharsis, who has arrived by and by at a grudging respect for The Fall, tonight's featured artiste.
Here is yet another posthumous Hall of Legends induction, since I lazily made the band charter members and then for whatever reason never asked to talk to the man himself. I need to start talking to people again.
Anyway, I guess this is where the origin story goes but once again there really isn't one. I have a weird memory of being 17, and being driven by my mother to a halloween party (I didn't get a driver's license until age 25), insisting on listening to KDVS in the car, and hearing a very distinctive song that stuck with me for about a decade before I figured out it was "Barmy." In my early days deejaying for that same station I would play "Hey! Luciani" and whatever the U.S. equivalent of Bend Sinister was. Jeremy, Friend of the Program, had a copy of In: Palace of Swords Reversed and we all loved "Marquis Cha-Cha." I had a copy of the Steve Barker compilation Bugs on the Wire and still think the version of "Wings" on that is the best one. In the waning days of the record store at which I worked, I gave myself a very special discount on the 458489 A Sides cd compilation, which tided me over until graduate school, during which time all the Beggars Banquet albums were reissued on cd and my obsession really began. Mark E. Smith used to say that Fall fans were the salt of the earth; as with Coil, there's no great explanation why this cishet black guy with a doctorate is among them; life just bounces!
Recommendations: the two best three-album runs are Perverted By Language > The Wonderful and Frightening World Of... > This Nation's Saving Grace and The Real New Fall L.P. > Fall Heads Roll > Reformation. If for some perverse reason you must own only one thing by this band, make it the Peel Sessions box set. That is the real story, right there.
I feel like I have to address this: by several accounts Mark E. Smith is a first-class asshole and an easily cancellable person. I know this. As a recovering abuser myself I give him a certain forbearance. That is all.
Anyway, "Why Are People Grudgeful" goes crazy on the turntable but winds up sounding alright. Otherwise I think the show is a technical success. It's a perfectly fine but random selection; at least I manage to play things I have not played before, unlike the Coil program from a week ago.
I don’t know why I had to remind people that it was a live show? Was it because I hadn’t spoken for a while? Or because I made some embarrassing error that has been memory-holed by post-production magic? Editing was so long ago.
Since this program was broadcast, 415 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 56 times. I have delivered 54 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. "It's a living," I would say, if it were a livelihood and if I were truly living. Maybe someday.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 March 5, 2100-2300:
Winter lives in my heart
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
One week to go before time stops.
I guess this particular outing is a "grower." It seems forced early on; Kristin Hersh and Mogadisco don’t really go together nicely, for example, nor does Vanitas follow smoothly. The overall vibe smacks of the insincerity and LARPing that, I feel, characterizes many of these programs from the "before" time. "I like this Africa 70 collection a lot," I say, but I don’t own it. So what is it, other than something to fill airtime in which I may not need to squat, and why should anyone else care?
I may not be the 20-year old idiot who used to play the same handful of Cocteau Twins records every week, but "growth" is overrated. I have settled into a different kind of groove . It’s feeling kind of pointless.
But it could always be worse--there’s a strange urgency to this program that I can hear in the recording. I swear it’s not memory playing tricks on me, because at a baseline level I can barely tell one current show from another at this point. I can only attribute the urgency to this show’s unfolding in real time, with a fiery crash always just around the corner. There is something more than content to these experiences—it’s the capture of a live singularity that’s important, not what I play per se.
Or maybe it's just because the records can skip, like the Legendary Pink Dots disc that I play here. "Thanks for sticking with us," indeed.
Since this program was broadcast, 413 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 56 times. I have delivered 53 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. Only two more episodes "like this" to go--one to treasure, and one about which you can definitely say, "that happened."
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 March 4, 2100-2300:
Now you know our truth
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
The pandemic has made me extra-fond of this episode, because it's one of the last "specials" I did before the lockdown, but I think this episode might be suitable for the pantheon in any timeline. I had of course already inducted Coil into the Bombast Hall of Legends, in four stages, to go along with their "equinox" / "solstice" series. Early days! But here I wind up with airtime on what would be Peter Christopherson's birthday, so it's a "proper" chance to devote the full two hours to their music (and other things, with apologies to Jhonn Balance).
I pronounce PC's surname like "Kristofferson" although I don't really know if that's correct--I become wistful about the Dif Juz HoL induction, triggered by that very question. How lucky I was that at least two of them are alive to answer the question. But not in this case. This program is for the spirits, and for the fans, and for the uninitiated.
There is no cool or interesting origin story for me and my Coil records. I'm sure that Jeremy, Friend of the Program, used to encourage me to play Scatology late at night on the radio, many years ago. And there was a kind docent at the local record store, Alex, who insisted I take home The Unreleased Themes for Hellraiser 10-inch. I'm not a pagan, I'm not into male-only onanistic rituals or anything, I'm just a black cishet guy who loves music that is unusual and good and unusually good. My tastes are probably almost as boring as I am.
I guess I stuck with Coil over the years because they were prolific and restless, building a catalog that is almost self-sufficient--not merely a "desert island disc" but a desert island body of work. In that ridiculous hypothetical, you'd hardly need anyone else's records. Also, there are only a handful of “industrial “ artists who (to me) are unproblematic. It’s a depressingly short list--Coil, Cabaret Voltaire, Chris & Cosey, Test Dept., Bourbonese Qualk, Einsturzende Neubauten, Nocturnal Emissions, Zoviet France, I'm not sure whom I'm forgetting...Everyone else seems too close to Alain Jourgensen, too close to Douglas Pearce, or is actually Genesis. This last bit is less trivial than it sounds--Coil's presence on a compilation is a really good indicator of quantity. I've "discovered" a lot of good sounds just picking up the various "various artists" records on which Coil appeared. And I take the willingness to do comps as an indicator of niceness in a person--easygoing, plays well with others, etc.
So I guess that's it.
It was a lovely evening sitting in the studio and letting the music flow through me, loudly, though I couldn’t seem to say anything correctly when it was time to speak. There is a certain magic(k) in the air whether you listen to this in blinding sunlight or at nighttime as intended.
Since this program was broadcast, 418 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 57 times. I have delivered 53 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I am most definitely biased but I have to say that none of those episodes are better than this one.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 February 27, 2100-2300:
Everything is good and divine
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Wednesday is my day of healing: first therapy, and then this. My therapist thinks my dj hobby is creativity. I think it is self-expression at best. I have never believed that djs are artists or that spinning and mixing records is a performance. I have done art and I have done performance; I may do these things again, god help us all. But for reasons of trauma those are in the past.
There is plenty of new trauma unfolding in the present. Work was not going well at the time of this broadcast. I was feeling inadequate and afraid to show up as myself. Little did I know what kind of blessing the pandemic would be in this regard.
The program is my one arena for seeming and feeling competent. Listening back to the programs from this time, I do wonder what any of it has to do with "the self." I think that has gotten better, but you'll have to wait.
Since this program was broadcast, 416 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 58 times. I have delivered 53 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. At long last I have set up my voice-over mic and preamp in my new house. I am accepting the new reality by and by, probably just in time for it to end.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 February 26, 2100-2300:
I've killed everybody, now what
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
"Who’s listening?" I wonder out loud in my notes to this program. So much of the time on the radio I actually want to be "alone," at least left to my own devices. Sometimes the isolation gets to me and this must have been one of those times. Was I having some kind of premonition, or advance feeling of what the next 14 months would be like?
Strangely this program seems "authentic" even though it is heavily Spotify-driven. It saddens me on a couple of levels to listen, but perhaps it will do you or someone else good.
Looking at the playlist very little of it connects or makes sense or reflects commitment, except for Primal Scream covering Roky Erickson of all things. And how many times can I play that?
Since this program was broadcast, 420 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 58 times. I have delivered 52 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. It's getting easier to do this again, a bit less embarrassing as I pick through the mess.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 February 19, 2100-2300:
Maybe getting somewhere doesn't seem like a lot
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Shockingly I had stopped drinking, at least for this week, and had been working very hard at the gym with nothing to show for it. On this day I wrote down that I'd had a four-hour training at work just to be the backup to a backup on some issue or other. I had scribbled something less-than-profound, I'm sure, about the ongoing Democratic primary, but let's face it, I was done caring.
Anyway, "a conceptually and technically perfect show?" Is this really what my notes say? It isn't true, though this one gives me pleasure even now, confirming that it has not all been a waste. And I even got props from drummer John over the phone, who was playing with a cat while waiting for his friend to wake up and give him a toke. I had always hoped that this program would be a soundtrack for positive experiences, so achievement unlocked.
Since this program was broadcast, 425 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 59 times. I have delivered 52 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I wonder if it is a victory just to tread water at this point; it is certainly "funny" to hear myself say during the program that I am "only" thirteen programs behind on this site. I could just give up, but then that would only prove right the people in my life who say I don't take ownership of anything.
New York just legalized marijuana, so I am looking forward to more altered states of my own in the near future. I've been told by more than one person that I need this, so it must be true.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 February 12, 2100-2300:
No now, no then
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
I must have been in a bad mood when this program aired, but what is new? This was the day my therapist told me to stop drinking and to see a psychiatrist. I did one of these things. I will let you guess which one it was.
ANYWAY! The program starts off well but for some reason I don’t talk during a long King Sunny Ade instrumental. I am Just Not On My A Game.
"Energies Collide" is really heteronormative, wow-- "Reunite the tantric spark, the magic?" Is this the Sting universe? They say that when you're happy you listen to atmosphere and groove and when you're depressed you tune into the lyrics. Maybe I have been happy all this time.
"Words of Expectation" is a real room-clearer, this live rendition being more annoying than I remember. It wasn’t a good segue either. I talked over “encore,” oops, but Dylan Thomas can get bent.
Since this program was broadcast, 426 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 59 times. I have delivered 51 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. These numbers don't seem to be moving...
My therapist, when she was not giving me advice that I only partially heeded, told me, "not every trace of your existence has to disappear from the fabric of space-time." This is a good thing to remember as I try to get back into the swing of documenting this ongoing adventure.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 February 5, 2100-2300:
Everything will be alright, you are in my hands
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Welcome to a weird night, with lots of bizarre human traffic, on which Lady Catharsis and I sheltered in the Kenny Ritter Memorial Studio (RIP) and delivered what would turn out to be our final joint program prior to the lockdown.
Basic things kept going wrong because I was rude, during the previous program ("pa’bajo"), to a caller who wanted to be put straight through to the studio. I say "rude" because I declined the request, even though it was practically impossible to grant. This is the kind of thing my therapist keeps bugging me about, but that is another story.
I suppose that during a lot of these programs it is unfinished business and "misfit toys" time, which explains a lot of this playlist. Except for Rick James (RIP) I don't know why I'm playing a lot of what I'm playing. Bad energy: I would like to say the program crackles with it, but that would overstate the excitement factor.
"Maybe," I wrote at the time, "when I hear this program six months from now it will sound good." It does! Even though I underestimated the wait just a little bit.
Since this program was broadcast, 427 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 60 times. I have delivered 51 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. The good news is that I'm past the point of editing old sound files, because the editing happens before they ever go out on the air. Truly I have become a podcaster.
Our discussion of "the four corners of time" captures this perpetual dilemma, but as always I am determined to speed things up and post like a normal person.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 February 1, 2000-2200:
Proud of the way I've avoided prison
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Lockdown has entered day 367, and we are feeling great about it. I am trying out something new in the thirteenth month; I call it "proving to my listeners that I exist." If I can't provide you with recent evidence thereof, I can at least write a few sentences every couple of days and slap an old sound file on top of that. Were it not for my neurotic insistence on linearity, I could even show you what I've been up to lately. But isn't it marginally more interesting to find out, drip by drip, how we got here?
Anyway, we have an artsy-sounding beginning, and really, even looking back across this last year's wasteland of time this sounds a bit "like me" in light of today, at least early on. I even received kind words over the phone from "Mark" In Trumansburg during "Up Side Down!" We like compliments--more of this, please.
On the topic of sounding like myself, I stopped "en gammal Amazon" magically; how wonderful it would be if I had the power to do that with other phenomena. And whatever happened to Brian Harris, by the way? Subsequently I referred to something called the Celsus!!! And then, as always, conceptually things get weird somewhere between Crispy ambulance and the Black Watch. Probably a result of my trying to be ecumenical, if that is the right word. Those days are probably over.
I can’t get over how pinched and small "Volgarity." sounds. I guess it’s not 1992 anymore and we are no longer impressed. This feeling occurs to me often these days.
Since this program was broadcast, 416 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 59 times. I have delivered 49 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I'm trying to edit a sound file from 380 days ago--51 shows ago. Once again I am playing this silly, crazy-making game with the past.
I suspect things are going to carry on like this for a while, then get really bad, then good, then worse, then ok, and then we'll be caught up. Vague but probably accurate.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 January 29, 2100-2300:
Right now some are insane
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Welcome to day 363 of lockdown, but who's counting? I should probably explain where I am and what I have been doing, but I suspect it would bore you. It's probably the same places you've been and the same things you've been doing, and probably the same, mostly depressive, emotions as well.
Probably, what has been the biggest mental block to posting episodes is the knowledge that my methods have changed so drastically on account of the pandemic, and of course the last time I posted was prior to George Floyd's death (was it? certainly prior to our national awareness of it). Anyway, shit has changed and these episodes from "before" don't resonate with me. They sound like someone else's work--at least when I think about them in the abstract.
Hearing this program, though, and looking at my notes from the time, I am pleasantly surprised that it sounds something like my current conception of myself--and "the show" is "myself."
On this night I received some rare praise from DJ Duce, who suggested "Mke Wangu" from Agwaya by Orchestra Makassy. (I never did get to it, but I swear it is on my Discogs wishlist.) On the other side of the ledger, there are lots of forced segues and fuckups in Deejay Pro (here's hoping that when we go back to live broadcasting I never use that app again). For some reason I played "Body Beat" after "Dead on Arrival" but the Mdou Moctar segue into Throbbing Gristle was somewhat sublime.
Humorously enough, the Pop Group caused me to speculate on the impending end of civilization--specifically whether it will prevent them from issuing a "more definitive" version of Y in the future. It's possible.
Since this program was broadcast, 425 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 59 times. I have delivered 48 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I'm trying to edit a sound file from 375 days ago--fifty shows ago, shamefully enough.
Look, here is the thing about writing: in the most important episode of my life, I could not write my way out of trouble. The best thing I wrote, which you will never see, was not enough to save my life. It just isn't true that only love can break your heart.
But I'm going to do my best to bare all here, by and by. Maybe you'll hear from me again in ten months or so.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 January 15, 2100-2300:
Talk about dealing in the past
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Welcome to day 67 of lockdown. I am happy to present you with a recording of a broadcast that happened with Lady Catharsis at my side. This sort of thing can't happen right now. It is good to be reminded of the world we are fighting to preserve. If this seems like a petty and trivial example of such a world, I don't apologize.
I have a lot of notes about this program, so strap in. The American Music Club segue had no business sounding good, but it did. Now, onto the bad and weird things: I'm pretty sure I say we're going uptempo only to say later that we went downtempo. Who is to say what tempo is? I am pretty sure I identified the JBs album as being released by Get On Down and I am almost certainly wrong. I say nothing when Lady Catharsis says to me, "you're the clever one." Probably a lot to unpack there! I sound exasperated with myself about four minutes into the program, which is not a good sign. "It's hot in the city tonight," Lady Catharsis says. What can it mean?
Showing up as myself (my therapist would be proud): shout out to Wally of The Beautiful Music, who shared the THE SOUND YOUR DREAMS MAKE comp with me. He is truly one of the Good People of music Twitter. I hold back from delivering a rant about the Coil reissue, "Stolen and Contaminated Songs." But (maybe this is not my best self showing up at the moment) I have to say I don't know who's pocketing the profits from this one and the label that released it is almost certainly releasing music by outright fascists. So There. I do pop off at Chris and Cosey and it pains me to say that they deserve it. Their fall 2019 reissues cost me $28 apiece, the records skip, and they insist that I pay an additional £8.99 if I want a version I can listen to on my phone. I don't think this is right and I'm not backing down. Moving on: the Dennis Green story sort of comes out of nowhere, but it illustrates the trade-offs and choices that brought me here, I guess.
Since this program was broadcast, 134 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 21 times. I have delivered ten pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I'm supposed to be editing a sound file from 88 days ago--fourteen shows ago, supposably. There is some mental block preventing me from completing that work.
Anyway, one day I'm sure we'll do this again, and better (one can hope).
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 January 11, 2000-2200:
Born on a ray of sound
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
As I write it's day 66 of lockdown--I think. It's getting tougher to count, but at the moment I'm counting March 19 as Day 1 for me, since that's the first day Lady Catharsis and I were ordered to "work from home." You could argue that things started to get weird, rapidly, about 10 days prior to that, but memories of Before are a bit cloudy. I have only written notes to help me recall what this innocent program sounded and felt like.
"I played a lot of beautiful music on this show without necessarily trying to," I wrote. It feels good to read that, and sad at the same time. Maybe in January I was finding more and more confidence. It's gone now. Looking at the playlist I think I was right in the moment.
Caveats: I'm pretty sure I burped in the first voice-over of the evening. The Iftin Band segues didn't sound good on either end. I have not done right by Space Dingus, as well as they slotted into this program. Their album was good and I just didn't get to it. Does lateness mean anything anymore? Maybe there is still hope for me there. There was some post-production magic that I executed between One-Eyed Wayne and Jay Glass Dubs. And it still sounds bad! The sequence ending with James Clarke Five is "weird," apparently, and it's a "good thing the show was flawless after that."
Since this program was broadcast, 136 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 22 times. I have delivered ten pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I'm supposed to be editing a sound file from 88 days ago--fourteen shows ago, I guess? I promised myself I would chronicle my tardiness and I am past embarrassment at this point. If these numbers mean anything to you, you're welcome.
Thanks for making it this far, thanks for your patience, and as always thank you for listening.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 January 8, 2100-2300:
Nowadays everything can be denied
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
I don't even know where to begin. It's day 38 of lockdown--I mean, let's say that, why not. Who can tell anymore? The president just told us to inject bleach into ourselves. Figured I might post some content before the disinfectant regime becomes mandatory.
This is a program from a different time. Regular subscribers probably roll their eyes when I talk about "universes ending" and stuff like that. What do we think about this now? Not so dumb anymore, is it? WELCOME TO MY WORLD BITCHES.
Anyway, this is a good program done in the old style--that is, with me sitting in the studio and pressing "play" when it was time to hear a new song, and so forth. I'm sure part of me has been holding onto these last archaic transmissions, because who knows if there will be another of their kind? It does mess with me that I screwed up Vance & Suzzanne because otherwise this is pretty flawless--check out the transition from Grandmaster Flash to Zonal, just as an example.
Because this is also about baring my soul, I've got to get something about "Davis Homeboy DJ Shadow" off my chest. It's true that we grew up in the same town. At one point in my troubled youth I was a buyer/clerk at our record store and I was one of those archetypal record store assholes. At this point in my life I had a lot of anger though I don't know about what. I'm still dealing with it! Anyway one day these two guys came up to the counter & wanted to talk to me about something--but in their exuberance (or whatever) they knocked something off the counter, and I was like, "pick that up" before I would even engage them. They got mad and left, as they should have. NOW. I have absolutely no reason to believe this is the case but I have somehow retconned (or gaslit? i don't know) myself into thinking one of those guys was Josh Davis. Again, NO REASON TO THINK THIS but this is what I do to myself.
Anyway, now that I don't have a gym to go to I try to get out of the house every day and walk around "in nature" and this is the kind of stuff I do, replaying my life's most embarrassing episodes inside my head. Apologies to Shadow & friend or whoever the fuck those guys were. I'd like to tell you I'm a changed person but at least I'm working on it.
Since this program was broadcast, 114 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 13 times. I have delivered six pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I'm supposed to be editing a sound file from 58 days ago--ten shows ago, I guess? I'm not sure any of this matters, but I am forcing myself to go through the motions, working the "mattering" into being, I guess, maybe. To think I once joked about quarantine giving me time to get caught up!
Anyway, looking back, I'm more convinced than ever that 2019 was indeed a good year. But let's enjoy the innocence of early 2020 while we can, however we can.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 January 1, 2100-2300:
using the ladder they call success
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Apologies are in order. There's a slowness to my cadence when I call this "the final live program" that can trick you into thinking those words are followed by a period. Sure enough, though, "...of 2019" follows, just to dash your hopes. I'm still here. On this night, Lady Catharsis is here as well, to shake things up, argue with me about rideshare services, sing backup to Wanda Jackson, and open the door to my abandonment of the "no repetition" policy so I can play "Kerosene" to honor the spirit and chops of Dave Riley.
I am vulnerable to nostalgia at all times, but December is the worst. In 2019 I had succeeded in not walking around in the snow listening to Cocteau Twins, probably because I no longer walk around in any weather listening to anything. More encouraging: I managed to have a 4AD-free Christmas. But events conspired to pull me back in. Vaughan Oliver died, and I surprised myself by feeling things about that. So Lady Catharsis and I, and our listeners, got to work through them. Together.
Previewing all of my on-air comments here would be stupid in more than one way. You'll just have to listen and find out. But it would be fair to say I'm less than 100% positive about the 4AD back catalogue. Look, I am a recovering addict and I don't know what you want from me. If there's any such thing as periodization of 4AD fandom, I am definitely a Lonely Is an Eyesore kid. And I expect things to stay awesome all the time. They can't, they don't, and somehow it saddens me. Truly I have bigger problems in this life but you wouldn't think so. Anyway, to reach back even further, "Marble Station" is absolutely majestic and would have justified getting hooked on this stuff, had it been what hooked me.
w/r/t Vaughan Oliver my hipsterism is so cringe that, I have to say, I'm a "23 Envelope person" and not "a v23 person." Did you know there were such people? Of course not because there aren't, it's only me as far as I know. Feeling something after Vaughan Oliver's death surprised me because I have opinions, you see. Nigel Grierson's work is special. His photographs made those sleeves. Read Facing the Other Way and tell me the story about the Nantes exhibit and the end of that friendship isn't the saddest thing in the book. But I am a person of Sentiment, and death is the biggest corrective, next to correction.
Since this program was broadcast, 70 days ago now, I've gone on the air 13 times. I'm editing a sound file from 13 days ago--four shows ago. How is this possible? It's not getting better any time soon, unless the coronavirus puts us all in quarantine and gives me time to churn through the backlog.
Program notes: I notice that these shows are a lot more dynamic, literally, when Lady Catharsis is the guest. She and her records are all over the place. You can see it in the waveforms. Or you could, if you were some weirdo who downloaded the audio files and imported them into a sound editing program. ANYWAY the point I am making is really about me and my normalization of everything. Not only does my voice sound like I have a built-in compressor, my taste in music is just kind of "smooth" and "regular." You can see this too. It's a kind of aesthetic fascism, and unironically I think Vaughan Oliver is partly to blame for that!
Anyway towards the end of the show it sounds like an old KDVS program with friends, which is not a bad place to wind up.
By the way, Colourbox [or "Colour Box"] record was from 1983, not 1993. I was never confused about this. I just can't talk properly.
A final correction: the 63 transmissions we broadcast in 2019 did not make it the "quietest year" in the history of the program or whatever I called it. There were two years when I did fewer shows, including a year in which I did only 52, like a regular person. I don't know what to make of having forgotten that, but I don't like it. Circling back to the first program I did in 2019 though, I sounded so dead inside, bored with what I was doing and completely devoid of affect. I don't think I sound that way anymore. Maybe it was a good year.
BOMBAST playlist, 2019 December 31, 2100-2300:
never anything to do in this town
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Doing a program on Christmas Eve (or at least December 24, if not technically the "eve") was really important to me when I was young, even though I would almost never play Christmas music. I always seemed to have a work shift on the 24th anyway (it's still that way and the world is becoming more Dickensian all the time)--so why not have a "fun" shift as well, I guess I must have thought. Also, especially early on at KDVS, I was only cleared to be on the air at certain times of the day, but this restriction would often not apply to term breaks and fill-in appearances. So, let's say, in my first year on the air, I probably would been authorized to spin records between midnight and 9 a.m., but I could at least have an afternoon program on the 24th of December, so that felt like liberation and "prime time." No one was listening, most likely, but what good would it have done to spurn the chance? Finally, and this is kind of sad, I think maybe doing radio on this day was a way of compensating for being separated from my friends at holiday time. Maybe this is still a thing, year-round, in the present.
So you know I'm not kidding when I say I'm excited to finally have the chance. It's been fun to do all those Festivus programs on the 23rd of December, but it's not the same. It's also true that I have developed these weird associations between the holiday and music that really has nothing to do with it. It could be music that I bought for myself in December (pouring one out for Green Noise Records, situated in Eugene, Oregon, sometime in the mid-90s, where I heard the Oval cd that serves as tonight's tinkly interstitial music--if only I had gotten the name of the album right! But, you know what, there are a lot of album titles to remember, and I'm old, so every new one I have to learn pushes another one out of my brain), music that someone else bought for me, something I heard while looking at xmas lights and just sounded right in the moment, etc. Lady Catharsis, my companion on this holy night, sort of understands, or pretends to. She's a good sport!
Since this program was broadcast, 70 days ago now, I've gone on the air 12 times. I'm editing a sound file from 13 days ago--three shows ago. I'm falling behind once again, and making the same mistake I always make, which is to jump at the chance of more airtime.
Program notes: was Bandwagonesque actually a December release? No! Surely November 19 is close enough, though, and there's no way it could have made it over here on a boat that quickly. This program is full of crazy jazz dynamics, and I blame this on the actual vintage holiday music that we try to play. Those Jimmy McGriff drums are LOUD. Take that, Steve Albini! At one point I refer to myself as an "it," which I just may be for all anyone knows. I manage to biff two James Brown songs and get mad--the self-hatred doesn't take a vacation, not even for Christmas. There's an honest-to-goodness rock block in the second hour that ends, inexplicably, with some cheesy tunes from a seasonal King record that even more inexplicably doesn't include James Brown. Finally, because there has to be an agenda, we end the evening with a junk-sick tale from William S. Burroughs that, on reflection, I'm not sure kids should have heard. Anyway, to all a good night, filled with vegetable serenity!
BOMBAST playlist, 2019 December 24, 2100-2300:
ecstatically happy until the end of time
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
You'll be relieved to hear that this time out I have no nightmares to share. I will not try to squeeze a life trauma into a radio-shaped narrative. Even I was worn out by that last post. Showing up is work! But fortunately for both of us, the number 501 doesn't seem to mean anything, so this is just a regular mixtape meant not to make anyone think hard about anything.
Since this program was broadcast, 68 days ago now, I've gone on the air 11 times. I'm editing a sound file from 23 days ago--four shows ago. The good news is that two of my temporal planes of existence have collapsed into one, so maybe I get to talk less about my exercise compulsion. The bad news is that my hard work never did pay off--"None of you look like you spend much time at the gym," Joseph the Engineer said at a station meeting the other night. The context of this remark doesn't matter. Do I deserve anything different? Probably not.
I think I said a couple of posts ago that radio only matters in this part of the calendar. This program doesn't provide much evidence of that but it does hold together as a bag of good tunes. Look, sometimes we can't even expect that much from me. Some transitions were better than they had any business being, and I felt good about it in the moment. If you don't think that counts for something, do you even know me?
BOMBAST playlist, 2019 December 18, 2100-2300:
disturbing the comfortable, comforting the disturbed
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis
Last night I had another teaching dream. I was in a large, run-down auditorium, lecturing as I once did to a few hundred people who would rather be somewhere else. (I keep having to remind myself this never had much to do with me.) It was a familiar lecture that I actually used to deliver in real life, one that I was good at and refined constantly. But my heart was not in it and I (or the material) was losing people. At some point I decreed a bathroom break; to my surprise it seemed that the auditorium was located in some city centre, next to a bunch of retail spaces. Most of my "audience" trailed off to various stores instead of returning to class, and frankly I think I chose this option too. The dream dissolved as usual into incoherence and I woke up, not wanting to sleep anymore.
This keeps happening, probably because I keep not learning from it. But I already know that I failed at being emotionally and spiritually present in my previous life. Did I always understand this? Funny story...
My academic misadventure is pretty neatly positioned between my two stints as a disc jockey. In January 1993 I did my last KDVS program five days before leaving for graduate school; the Bombast program launched about 16 months after I vacated my last faculty office. It's weird to demarcate things this way, but where is the lie?
Anyway, at the beginning of my MA program I needed some funds to float me for about a month or so before my graduate assistantship checks started rolling in--to cover niceties like rent, food, and so on. I had nothing worth selling except for records and CDs. It's wild to think about what was possible at that time, and what we valued. You can't make any money doing this today, no matter what Discogs tries telling you, but it absolutely worked for me at this time. AND, five months later, when my apartment was broken into, the thieves took my CDs and left my computer. If you were somehow transported back to that world, you would not recognize it.
So Lady Catharsis (yes, even then she was with me) drove me down to Amoeba in Berkeley and watched me unload about 1/3 of my collection. This wasn't one of those occasional prunings you do, just to make a little room, or because you've moved past certain things. You wouldn't believe the stuff I had to jettison. It felt like cutting off a limb. They'll tell you that commodity fetishism is a poor substitute for having a personality, and "they" are right. But I do have a personality, and this happened to hurt a lot. Sacrifices Had To Be Made, and I Needed To Grow Up. Sometimes I try to bargain with memory and imagine that maybe it was other people who told me these things, but I'm almost positive it was me saying them to myself. Anyway, in the moment you couldn't consider it anything but sensible, so onward and upward I went.
In times of acute stress and despair, during the ensuing years of being variously (and sometimes simultaneously) marginalized, stalked, overlooked, surveilled, bullied, swindled, targeted, and finally discarded, all while incurring tremendous debt and distancing myself geographically and emotionally from loved ones, I would think back to the Faustian bargain that made it all possible.
What if I had just said No, and kept my records?
How much worse would that have been? Is that a silly thing to wonder?
This is probably more than you want from a community radio podcast, sorry.
But when I speak grandly about the show's mission it's as real as it is selfish and mundane and ridiculous. I'm trying to close a circle and conjure a ghost--a lost child, maybe. If it's funny that I think of this as a self-healing ritual then at least I have brought you momentary amusement. That's something. It's amazing (even if behind the scenes I have fucking earned it and then some) that WRFI has let me do this for one thousand hours. Maybe one day I will even have spent as much time in the Kenny Ritter Memorial Studio as I spent standing in front of a resentful audience talking about things that don't matter to anyone.
Trying to rationalize what I did in this 500th ritual, I guess I would say I was a bit more overt about it than I am most of the time. Lady Catharsis told me to be my usual awesome self, and I have to say I was! It was not exactly a smooth blend of present and past, but somehow, magically, it worked.
Cabaret Voltaire actually has a song called "Invocation," but did you know that for me "Bad Self" truly invokes something? I have always loved it more than is healthy but the word "mercenary" has taken on special meaning in my postgrad life. Because I need to have some secrets I will just say that it has worked a kind of magic in my world. So this tune is a kind of theme song now for me, the guy who has no money and is letting you download his mixtapes with no strings attached.
Looking back at my other milestone programs, I don't think they were that remarkable or successful. Transmission 100 was all but a secret, executed late at night (I'm too old for that now!) and without planning or fanfare. I don't feel like hiding my light anymore as I must have felt back then. I tried to fold an acknowledgement of "200" into the usual business of that program, but you can always tell when a thing is forced. Episode 300, looking back, was a kind of Oedipal moment--the patricidal kind, not the incestuous kind--that had to be happening in a downward spiral. At the moment I'm not interested in hearing it again. The 400th show was a disaster--another magic word!--but it is one of many lessons I am learning these days about boundaries. However, this one, right here, makes me proud. It even made me proud in the moment!
But I must continue to own my negligence. Since this program was broadcast, 71 days ago now, I've gone on the air 12 times. At the gym (always the fucking gym) I am listening back to a transmission from 39 days ago. I've just finished editing a sound file from 22 days ago--5 shows ago. Running through the archive, I note that I have spent an awful lot of time being two months behind here. Maybe I should just embrace that.
I know that you people don't read, but for just a moment longer I'm going to pretend that you do, and mention that a few posts ago I promised some statistics. But I've decided to spare you because if you've made it this far you've been through enough. Look, sometimes I flake out and sometimes even I get bored with me. Isn't it time for a bathroom break, or some shopping, or something? Anything?
Sweet dreams.
BOMBAST playlist, 2019 December 11, 2100-2300:
motivated by hype and avarice
https://www.facebook.com/radiobombast?ref=hl https://twitter.com/KidCatharsis