The world we live in is one of instant access to almost every bit of media ever created. A world where one can pull up any album ever recorded, even while on the go. But it’s also one where one can get isolated, listening only to what we know, among people who are just like us.
Old fashioned radio is one of the antidotes to this because of its serendipity and diversity of voices.
Radio offers an opportunity for an expression of musical taste and the spontaneous creation of a community of listeners. The best community based radio stations are staffed by disc jockeys who love a specific strain of music and want to share this with others. I would pose that cloud based solutions don’t quite deliver these goods in the same ways.
I worked in college radio back in the bygone days, and we saw ourselves as a public service to keep the community (of nearby Santa Cruz) informed and entertained. We hated the bland dreck of commercial radio, and sought to share distinct music that we loved. Our music was eclectic as hell, some of us had good taste and we cared a lot. It’s this sort of handmade radio that still matters today.
Here are some things you might hear as you drive around town and listen to the radio:
I think folks all over the country think of this as their city’s little secret, but this is a format that originated in Philadelphia in ‘76, and has since propagated to commercial and satellite stations around the country. My friends in Los Angeles make a point of planning their sundays around the broadcast on KLOS-FM. It’s a mix of popular tracks and stuff from deep in the catalog.
I’d argue that the fact that this happens a specific time each week that is shared by other fans simultaneously makes this 1 million times better than just hitting a Beatles playlist on Spotify.
For god knows how long, this guy on WKCR (the Columbia University radio signal) has opined at length on Mr. Charlie Parker. It is often too dense to penetrate the detail that Phil Schaap offers on a specific recording session of Parker’s. But it’s good stuff, delivered in a melodious voice in obsessive detail. I personally remember listening to this in the mornings when I first moved to New York.
Founded as “Poor Peoples Radio”, this station based in a little studio on Divisadero Street represents a link to San Francisco’s shrinking African-American community in the city.
On KPOO 89.5, I hear Sunday morning gospel. Saturday night reggae. I’m listening to 1960's soul as I write this medium post on a Tuesday morning. This is music that connects me to a community, and it’s music that it would never occur to me to seek out on an internet radio station
I have this memory of driving back from Lake Tahoe to San Francisco one night with a few friends and picking up the signal from KDVS (the UC Davis radio station). There was the weirdest song on. It was jamming, but with some sort of performance art voiceover too. And we listened. It created a window for us in the car. We listened closely. We conversed. And we stuck with the format, however odd it was. That DJ was talking to us, taking us out of our musical comfort zones.
So, turn on the FM and hit scan the next time you’re in the car. Take a deep breath and learn how to work the tuner on your dusty stereo. Or do a little research about local broadcaseters in your community and tune them in on the internet if that’s the way you have to do it.
