Category: radio

The Real Cosmopolitan

Photo via CBC Music

It was with a heavy heart that I heard about the passing of CBC Radio host Jurgen Gothe last month.

I’d been thinking a lot about him lately, what with starting my own radio show this past January, and a recent stock-taking of old cookbooks, where I found DiscCookery amongst my culinary collection. Gothe had penned the work on the 20th anniversary of his popular afternoon radio program, DiscDrive, in 2005.

The program, aired on CBC Radio 2, was a regular part of my young life; it was always on in the house or the car after school, and even when I started going to university, I found myself turning it on during my long commutes, between blaring the Pearl Jam CD and the Tom Waits cassette tape. The program’s avuncular host had a broadcasting style both elegant and casual at once, like a warm designer cardigan found in a Kensington Market stall; it was something very fine and special, though it was equally familiar, casual, and approachable.

After years of listening, it only feels right to call Jurgen by his first name, despite never working with him, and only meeting him briefly. Part of what I loved (and still love) about Jurgen is how much he defied the stereotypical “Canadian” cliche. He wasn’t a maple-syrup-and-hockey-with-Tim-Horton’s-tell-me-aboatit-eh kind of guy (even though he named the Canucks as his favorite sports team). He was smart, well-spoken, curious, deeply interested in viniculture, cuisine, and the world of arts and culture as embodied in his weekday program — but that didn’t make him distant; it made him cool.

The quote on the back of DiscCookery (from the Globe and Mail) called DiscDrive “(t)he most intelligent radio in the country.”The program was a charming compendium of facts, stories, passions, and pursuits; he’d play Mozart and Bach alongside Grappelli and Ellington. I was introduced to Billie Holiday’s magical, horn-like voice on DiscDrive, along with the sad sighs of Marin Marais’ viola da gamba pieces; I ventured into jazz clubs in New York because of the curiosity Jurgen fostered. I gained a whole new appreciation in my Toronto Symphony Symphony concerts, recalling a funny anecdote Jurgen shared about Mozart as I listened to “Eine Kleine Nachtsmusik“, or a food-wine pairing as one of Beethoven’s rich, meaty overtures washed over me.

Radio can change the way a person experiences the world; some programs will only confirm a worldview, while others help to expand, widen, and celebrate it. DiscDrive did all that, and more, helping me say, out loud, “yes, I love these things” while simultaneously making me question the whole idea of “Canadiana” and its relationship with a rapidly changing culture.

Jurgen himself defied the “hoser” cliche by embracing a cosmopolitan curiosity that he then transmitted over the airwaves; his wasn’t an attitude of superiority or snobbery. Quite the opposite. It was his warmth and joy and genuinely curious approach — all the things I try to emulate in my own broadcasting life. I miss Jurgen, and I miss Disc Drive — but the things they stood for and provided continue to inspire. My favorite sweater is so warm, and I am forever grateful.

Photo via CBC Music

Resolution Revolution, With Dancing

Today: 2pm hit and I made a face.

I don’t recognize this.

Then I remembered: Soundcheck ended. Well, not ended forever, but the celebrated afternoon music show on WNYC has taken a hiatus for the summer. It’s being re-imagined and re-tooled for its post-Labor Day return (in a new evening timeslot) and you can follow its progress online.

Friday’s final afternoon program was all about resolutions – specifically musical ones. John Schaefer’s call to listeners, asking them what musical promises they wanted to keep, got me thinking, and feeling more than a little guilty. I’ve been making audio commitments to myself now for ages: I’m going to listen to this new album. I’m going to check out that cool band. I’m going to get to more live shows. 

And despite covering The Cult’s new album, getting into a great new DJ, and seeing Garbage live, I still feel like I’m not doing enough. With every new week comes a new onslaught of albums, bands, shows, all of which I feel I should be paying more attention to.  Then there’s the backwards glance – and a glance is really all it’s been when it comes to my own, embarrassingly limited musical knowledge.

Raised as a classical music-playing child, I didn’t really find out about the work and influence Bob Dylan, David Bowie, or The Rolling Stones until well into adolescence. My house was filled with the sounds of Cash, Presley, and ABBA (to say nothing of Back, Beethoven, and Mozart) for many years. Later, with my very-own turntable in my bedroom, neither The Clash and nor Black Flag provided the soundtrack to teenaged rebellion; Aretha Franklin, Ronnie Spector, and Donna Summer did. I related to the strong, glamorous ladies whose music I could dance to. A big part of me still does.

The first time I heard Bob Dylan I was fifteen years old. The song was “Tangled Up In Blue” and it was played to me by a Dylan-loving friend of my mother’s. I’d never heard anything like it; the words dripped with angst, and anger, and a world-weariness I hadn’t quite known before. Somehow, it made the grunge explosion that followed in popular culture make more sense. A guest of Schaefer’s on Friday confessed she didn’t know enough about Dylan’s either, and that her musical resolution over the summer was to correct that oversight.

It was oddly comforting to hear that kind of confession in such a public forum. Admitting you don’t know the canons of such huge music monoliths in public is hard, and it was nice to see Soundcheck – a show I consider to be as much entertainment as education, and a major smarty-pants beacon of deep pop culture know-how -welcome such curiosity with open arms. It’s nice to not be afraid of judgment, or be worried about appearing uncool, of lacking taste, of being plain stupid, but to just be welcomed and accepted.

Perhaps that’s why the “ending” of Soundcheck hit me harder than I expected, and why today’s 2pm mix-up was a bit of a slug in the guts. Schaefer and the fantastic Soundcheck team have provided a wonderful forum for the musically curious masses (with whom I deeply identify) to learn, to ask questions, to branch out, to exercise our curious ear-muscles and maybe have a dance or two across our office/kitchen floors. Thusly inspired, this is what I’d like: to further my contemporary music-scene knowledge while deepening my appreciation of its past. Can it be done with any measure of success? I’ll let you know when Soundcheck’s back on the air in September. I’m starting here. Don’t judge.

(Top photo from Sodahead)

Radio Radio

After an absence of nearly a year, I’m returning to the radio waves tomorrow morning.

It’s a weird mix of nerves and excitement I’m dealing with right now: fear over the live aspect, of under-prepping (I’m currently, madly, mowing down every piece of info I can find), of being late, of guests getting lost, of me getting lost, of scary electrocuting microphones, of power outages, and tripping on wires and downed signal towers. Some of those fears are, I suppose, more well-founded than others.

A bigger issue is the confidence it takes to get in front of a mic and talk to complete strangers with some degree of authority. When I left a career in advertising many moons ago to go to broadcasting school, I was scared, sure, but I was also armed with an astonishing confidence and self-belief that stupifies me, looking back. Life experience is supposed to make you more resilient, more comfortable in your skin, more ballsy and more brave -not less so. Right?

Another part of me, that small voice that still shouts my love of broadcasting in tinny, transistor-esque tones, is happy, excited, joyful and … content. It feels like a good kind of return. A return to a version of me I miss terribly -the one that wags a joyful tail at strangers and bounds up to a microphone fully confident of the words about to be delivered, half-improv, half-melody, with high and low tones singing a full stream of bleary-eyed morning magic.

Won’t you tune in?

Take 5, CIUT 89.5FM Toronto – I’ll be on after 9.30am ET, interviewing choreographer Wen Wei Wang about his new work, Cock-pit. And yes, there will be more -next week.

Oh, and just for fun, here’s a picture of me with filmmakers Sam Dunn and Scot McFadyen, the guys behind the awesome documentaries Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey, Global Metal, and Iron Maiden: Flight 666. You can’t see it, but yes, my tail is wagging.

Humans

Nearly two hours after the end of a conference call to discuss rebuilding ideas for Haiti, and I’m still spinning -with ideas, inspirations, new insights and old questions. It all feels so mind-boggling, and concurrently, soul-searing.

The call tonight featured a number of distinguished participants -aid workers, doctors, politicians, and members of the advocacy group ONE. I’m going to be posting a more comprehensive report tomorrow, but in the meantime, I felt the need to wind down with music and wine (sangiovese, if you must know). The music below is courtesy of a group called This Is Awesome, and was heard on the excellent late-night program on Canadian radio called The Signal, hosted by the inimitable Laurie Brown. With the weird, witty, appropriately wry title “They Only Have to Look Like Humans”, the work is dreamy and edgy and the perfect ending to a long, busy day. Enjoy.

<a href="http://christinebougiedafyddhughes.bandcamp.com/track/they-only-have-to-look-like-humans">They Only Have To Look Like Humans by Christine Bougie &amp; Dafydd Hughes</a>

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