A series of alien transmissions, ready for your fascinated decoding. A layering of sounds that are salty, sweet, savory. An incomprehensible message competing with a carnival across town and your roommate blasting Led Zeppelin through muffling walls.
The Sasha river was running dry, and the aerialist maneuvered his craft to take advantage of the fact. As they moved swiftly along the crumbling banks, exoskeletal legs easily scrabbling over the terrain in an unearthly three-limbed gait, they encountered sun-baked sections where a trickle fed a series of pools on the cracking river bottom, animals congregated around them in a temporary truce. They hadn’t seen a human since Saturday, a fact that concerned the actuary more than the dry river, and the attempted distraction of some Guatemalan gamelan techno was not working. In its steel box, the package of Peanut Butter Crunch patiently rustled and awaited its delivery.
A listener suggested I slip in Wham!’s “Last Christmas” but as someone filled with old-fashioned Lacking Integrity, I politely declined. That said, your host survived the season unscathed. In this episode, we dedicate the Middle Hour to some fine covers. Shout out to Robin in Atlanta for hanging out in the late-night post-holiday gulch.
It was a relatively quiet night, with a heavy dose of Brazilian music to keep things moving. For some reason, honesty and lies was another theme that surfaced through the night.
Crisp and clear, and kinda weird towards the end… tonight’s episode had many interesting twists and musical turns, and a certain inability to properly pronounce things.
This is the old Low turned up to 15. All hail the new Low! Note: This is very noisy and distorted. The machinery is not acting up.
It was a cold night, but things were kept warm by a steady influx of Latin-tinged music and of course, Millie Small’s delightful warble.
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