Tag: Oranger

It’s time to take perspective on our hyper-technologized society, through the audio lens of song.

Joanna Sternberg is an open book, and you can’t keep from turning the pages.

Things started out normally, with a cover and an excellent new single from Waxahatchee, but took a turn for the unexpected when the highly-anticipated Cat Empire set went missing. Was it skipped over on the player accidentally? Had I forgotten to make a copy to bring to the station? Could I download it from the backup at home? After a couple of sets of troubleshooting, it turned out I had named the file incorrectly. These are the hazards you encounter as a live-in-the-studio DJ, kids.

For whatever reason, not that I’m complaining, listening to the Allah-Las always makes me want to light incense.

Out of all the songs to receive Animal Collective’s swirling dayglo treatment, “Jimmy Mack” might be the most unexpected yet the most deserving. Elsewhere tonight, loyal listener Underdog, usually located in the wilds of Georgia, was able to tune in around lunchtime while traveling in Japan, making the second show in a row with a listener based in Asia. Get me marketing!

It’s time for another Fun Drive, and what better way to represent tonight’s manic energy than Daisy Chainsaw and their epic “Love Your Money”? Also tonight, we have received a matching grant of one hundred dollars of America, via Telex: THIS IS THE HRVST TROGGOLD TO TELEX THE PLEDGE COMMITMENT THE ONE HUNDRED COMMA DOLLARS STOP OF MATCHING AMPLITUDE OTHER PLEDGES OF DONATION COMMA MATCH EXCLAMATION STOP HAVING REPORTING OF ARTICLE COMMA THE TURKISH ALMOND FARMING COMMA COMMA COMMA BEST THE LUCK STOP COMMA

Tonight’s show started off with Picture Book, a one-hour mixtape of songs dedicated to the captured image, whether it be a personal snapshot or an exotic postcard. The rest of the night was the usual Mixtape territory, closing out with my latest inexplicable favorite, International Sangman.

I am generally skeptical and disrespectful of band names with special capitalization, but IDLES look and sound like they mean business.

The best place to hide seemed to be, ironically, right behind the ballot box. The numerologist and the baker had been underway on a wholly distinct mission, having already secured the deflated knifeboats inside a conveniently placed culvert. They now seemed to be caught in the crossfire of two opposing factions, each intent on some inscrutable and erratically violent purpose that seemed to be nothing but foiling the other side’s efforts. The roving skirmishes had drawn away participants and created a fairly event-free circle of balance where the pair could hunker down and plan their next move. It was going to be a long night.

Well into their third decade, G. Love and Special Sauce still sound like they are in no particular hurry to get there.