DJ Name: DJ Spinning Jennie Freeform Show Name: Nova Radio Freeform Day/Time of Show: Alternating Sundays, 8 – 10 p.m. Interview by: Beanie
Beanie: When did you start volunteering with Freeform?
DJ Spinning Jennie: I describe my show as “Left-of-the-dial adventures in stereo: punk, garage, small label, local, underground pop, classics, and B-sides.” I started the show with my daughter, Veronica, who goes to Grant High School. She loves music too and plays the guitar. She and I did the show together for the first six months until she got too busy with school. When I was her age, I had my own show at our high school radio station, which was fun at first but ultimately was too regimented for me. We were required to play a strict playlist, and one day when I rebelliously decided to play the B-side of Terence Trent D’Arby’s “Sign Your Name” single–a song called “Greasy Chicken”—I got called out for not following “the rules.” So I quit! When we were deciding on our description for our Freeform show, I made sure to include “B-sides” as something we’d always play on Nova Radio.
Beanie: How do you prepare for your show / What influences the episodes from week to week?
DJ Spinning Jennie: I usually take three or so hours to put together the list of songs for my biweekly show. I start with music I already have—a mix of vinyl, digital and a few CDs. I look for bands that are coming to town and highlight songs with a mention about their shows. I intentionally seek out songs that are new, or at least new to me, and test out and rearrange the order of the playlist a couple times the week of my show. Then I post all my shows for online streaming on the free streaming service: www.mixcloud.com/novaradio_kffp.
Beanie: Have you seen any standout shows in Portland this year?
DJ Spinning Jennie: Some of my favorite shows over the past year or so have been Parquet Courts at the Wonder Ballroom, Mary Timony playing Helium songs at the Mississippi, Wreckless Eric at Turn! Turn! Turn!, Haley Heynderickx at Revolution Hall, and the acoustic show that X played at the Old Church.
Beanie: What’s the first Record/Tape/CD You Ever Bought?
DJ Spinning Jennie: My Granny bought me the solo album that Peter “Cat Man” Criss from KISS recorded in the late 70s. It was in the $1 bin. (I was a huge KISS fan in kindergarten, which today I’m embarrassed about.) That record was crap, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to play the drums.
Beanie: What do you think makes Freeform stand out in the realm of community radio?
DJ Spinning Jennie: I was a DJ in high school and on two college stations, and Freeform is my favorite because it’s so accessible and not at all pretentious. It’s about two things: music and community. DJs are empowered to make their shows truly their own, without having to adhere to playlists or play certain artists considered “hot” at the moment. I love the diversity of people involved, from a range of musical backgrounds and generations.
I fell down a Clash rabbit hole in the Oxfam used book store on Byres road in Glasgow last fall. I came across Pat Gilbert’s Passion is a Fashion, which details “The Real Story of the Clash” over almost 400 pages. A sucker for almost any music documentary or biography, I was eager to dig into the history of the icons of my youth. I’ve been stuck in Clash heavy rotation ever since.
Like many in the genre, Gilbert’s mining through the minutiae of recording contracts and studio sessions may only be for the true aficionado — but his telling of the story of the Clash is eminently readable. Perhaps the most lasting impression is just how young the band was at the time they recorded their greatest work — and how naive they were about the commercial industry that tried to shape them, ultimately contributing to their dissolution and demise.
Like many other bands from the independent side of popular music at that time, the Clash were often pushing against the corporate music machine, usually to their own detriment. Not punk enough for the purists, the Clash are often now reduced to a hit single on 80s compilations for others. An intentionally constructed band of sorts — like the Sex Pistols, Menudo, or the Spice Girls — the Clash evolved into an organic force that eventually imploded under Topper Headon’s drug use, poor financial decisions, major label directives and the misdirected Svengali-ism of their handlers. Along the way, they managed to bend the trajectory of squatter punk into mainstream lionization. Their most compelling legacy was perhaps their open-minded willingness to incorporate other genres into their sound, as evidenced by the post-Clash projects of Jones, Strummer and Simonen. In some ways, yet another in the long line of white acts appropriating elements of Black music –Elvis, the Stones, Them, Beastie Boys, Macklemore; today, the Clash may be accused of cultural appropriation. At the time, though, they shifted the conversation, leading their fans where otherwise they may never have ventured.
Subsequently watching Don Letts’ excellent Westway to the World, I was struck by how young the band was in their height — the interviews show their regret as they look back and realize their lack of perspective in the midst of the turmoil of their most creative years. The film is also a helpful reminder of the visual element of the band — their intentional focus on clothing as an echo of their musical output, their lanky electricity onstage — the early amphetaminized perpetual motion evolving into the later spliffy inclusiveness of their music and presence.
It’s hardly original to write a piece rhapsodizing about the Clash, but in reflecting on them, I’m perhaps less concerned about their place in history and more intrigued by their role in a personal manner. In these days of image overload, where you can thumb through thousands of instagram uploads a day, it’s hard to explain now how limited the visual aspect was for a kid in a small town. In those early MTV days, we’d have to wait till 120 Minutes came on to see a video by an Alternative Band. Even Rock the Casbah, which was on more frequent rotation, was a diamond in the rough, rare amid the hairsprayed glam metal bands and top 40 pop acts. Even now, when watching that video, the gap in Paul Simonen’s teeth still gets me — as does Strummer’s mohawk and not to mention his Doc Marten shuffle in the sand. Reading in Gilbert’s book, we learn that Mick Jones’ hidden face in the video was not by design, but rather the result of a snit that day, leading him to avoid full participation in the video. Funny how a bad mood could be forever immortalized, as yet another instance of Cool for the preteens staying up late to watch MTV without parental supervision.
I can’t even tell you if the Clash songs are any good — they are so ingrained in my own development that I could hardly be an impartial judge. It’s easy to be nostalgic about the songs, through which we define ourselves during our early identity formation. Looking back at the Clash through the lens of the ensuing years, however, it’s clear they set a remarkable precedent and, perhaps more poignantly, left a sense of potential not fully manifested, especially with the early death of Joe Strummer. Gilbert’s Passion is a Fashion and Lett’s Westway to the World are two crucial documents of the Clash. I welcome you to join me down the rabbit hole.
Bappi Lahiri, also known in India as “The Disco King,” was born in Calcutta, West Bengal in 1952, to Bengali classical singers Aparesh Lahiri and Bansari Lahari. An only child, his parents trained him at the age of 3 to play tabla, later in classical music and Shyama Sangeet, which is a genre of devotional songs dedicated to Hindu goddess Shyama, or Kali. Lahiri is related on his mother’s side to Kishore Kumar, who who was a prominent multifaceted Indian film artist, and S. Mukheerjee, who was a producer of Indian films. Lahiri’s educational musical upbringing enabled him to begin his Bollywood career at the age of 19, directing music for Bengali film Daadu (1972) and composing music for his first Hindi film Nanha Shikari (1973). He became established in Bollywood for music composition and also playback singing for Tahir Husain’s Hindi film Zakhmee (1975). Lahiri went on to work on music for popular films, Chalte Chalte (1976) and Surakksha (1979)propelling him to stardom as the youngest musical director in the shortest duration of time (bappilahiri.com).
Raja Harischandra- Cross dressing wet sari scene
Bollywood cinema began 100 years ago with the film Raja Harischandra, shown on May 3, 1913 in Mumbai with a wet sari, cross-dressing scene. Bollywood cinema is now a multi billion dollar industry. Nasreen Rehman who specializes in South Asian cinema stated, “The term Bollywood is an invention of the late 20th Century after Bombay cinema caught the imagination of the west.” Musical singers who dance accentuate the emotionality of characters starring in Bollywood films and there are an average of five to nine musical numbers in one film (BBC News).
In the 1980s, Lahiri brought the influence of disco beats and synthesizer sounds to Indian music, transforming the popular Bollywood sound known globally today. Lahiri was made famous by his compositions for various songs such as “Hari Om Hari” (1980) and “Ramba Ho Samba Ho,” plus music for the films Pyara Dushman (1980), Wardat (1981), Laparwah (1981), Sahhas (1981) and Disco Dancer (1982), to name a few. He received the China Award in Beijing in 1982, honoring his music composition for Disco Dancer. Lahiri was recognized by the Guiness Book of World Records in 1986 for recording over 180 songs for 33 films in that year alone (wiki). To date he has composed more than 5000 songs in 500 movies in different languages, including Bengali, Hindi, Tamil, Punjabi, Oriya, Kannada, Malayalam and Assamese. In addition he has composed music for Bangladeshi and Hollywood films, such as Eyewitness to Murder and Divine Lovers. He has also starred in films, Badhti ka Nam Daadhi, Kalakaar,Geet, Bombay Girls and Om Shanti Om (Guha, 2019).
Lahiri has stated that he has a “constant desire to reinvent himself.” He tries to keep up with the generational dynamic preferences of musical culture. Exampling this, he cut two English albums, Moving Away (1986) and Snake Dance (1990), that were self released, perhaps to appeal to English speakers. Lahiri is the rare complete entertainer, a multifaceted artist who plays tabla, synthesizer, piano, saxophone, guitar, dholak, bongos, and also composes and sings. He generously supports other singers by producing and directing their albums and songs. He has sung duets with Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar, helped launch Vijay Benedict and Sharon Prabhakar’s Bollywood careers, and supported Alisha Chinai and Usha Uthup’s stardoms. In 1982 he released a private-press Hindi disco synth pop album with Bangladesh singer Runa Laila named Superuna. In 1986 he released Welcome with Anil Kapoor and Salma Agha, plus one of my favorite albums, Dancing City, which features duets with Hindi actress Mandakini.
He introduced the world to his daughter’s talents in 1987 when she was 9 years old. Rema Lahiri sang the children’s nursery rhyme Little Star, composed and directed to her father’s disco sound. Rema’s song was marketed by HMV, and the single went platinum for best sales among children’s songs for that year in India. Lahiri was also a fan of Michael Jackson’s Thriller album which inspired him to release the video-pop album Bappi Lahiri’s Thriller Live, with eight Hindi songs. He continued supporting his daughter’s career, releasing another LP when she was 12 years old with her singing, Dance Party (1990), plus the songs “Jawani Jawani,” “Night Lovers,” (1992) and “Heatrave” (1993). Dance Party features duets with Rema and her father and Rema singing solo, backed by synth drums and keys arranged to soft rock or fast/mid tempo disco synth sounds, with riffing digital drums, guitar twang solos, psych bells, and clap cymbal fills. I often think Dance Party may be one of the best kids recordings of all time.
In 1994, Lahiri launched his own music company, currently named B9 Digital Studios Mumbai. B9 was formerly BL Sound Sanirema Pvt. Ltd, which also released several recordings (wikiI). In 1995, Lahiri recorded the hits “Yamma Yamma Dance” with Usha Uthup and “Nine Below Zero” (1997).
Because of Lahiri’s dynamic work ethic to fill the need to constantly reinvent himself, he chose to work on reality television shows in the 2000s. In 2006, he starred on the popular television show, ‘Sa Re Ga Ma Pa L’il Champs,’ as a co-judge with singers Alka Yagnik and Abhijeet. He was also a judge on another show on Zee TV with other music composers, and again for Sony Entertainment Television’s ‘K for Kishor’ reality show in searching for the ‘heir apparent’ to Kishore Kumar (bappilahiri.com).
As of recent, Lahiri voiced the character Tamatoa in the Hindi-dubbed version of 2016 Disney film Moana. He plays the character of a tiny crab who is attracted to shiny treasures. Lahiri identified with Tamatoa’s attraction to shiny things because he also has an attraction to gold jewelry, and Lahiri displays his love openly for all to see. He also composed and sang the title song to Moana, “Shona,” which translates to Gold in English. This was his first time dubbing in an animated film, and of the experience he remarked “It is truly a golden memory” (bappilahiri.com). Lahiri’s prolific career has made many golden memories for audiences and consumers of Bollywood music and film. His incalculable contributions have so transformed the sounds of Indian cinema that it is difficult to remember a time when its music was not influenced by his expertise and enthusiasm.
DJ Name: Sharky Blue Freeform Show Name: Davy Jones’ Locker Freeform Day/Time of Show: Saturdays 10:00pm – 12:00am Interview by: Beanie
Beanie: What’s the premise for Davy Jones’ Locker and what do you hope to communicate to the listener?
Sharky Blue: My show is very eclectic and fitting with the spirit of the station. My cohost (Davy Jones) and I both collect a lot of records, so every week we bring in a bag of some of our favorite albums and wing the playlist on the spot. We don’t have a set genre for our show, we’ll play whatever we’re in the mood for in the moment. Our very first shows were pretty planned in advance, but after a while it made more sense to just find out what the other cohost brought when we get to the station and play off each other that way. We try not to take it too seriously and just have fun on the radio. We often bring on some of our friends as informal cohosts and like to have a party atmosphere when we’re on air. I think part of what’s great about freeform is that there’s very little barrier to entry, especially related to age. Out of the 20 or so guests we’ve had on the show, only 3 have been over 21. In a town where it seems like you can’t do anything while you’re under 21, it’s amazing to have this opportunity open to us.
Beanie: What’s the most interesting record that’s been added to your collection this year?
Sharky Blue: I just got the repressing of Satori by Flower Travellin Band. This is a Japanese psych rock band that formed around the early 70s, and it’s probably some of the heaviest stuff from around that time outside of Black Sabbath. This album rocks and should definitely be brought up more when talking about the early history of metal.
Beanie: How did you first hear about Freeform and what influenced you to get involved? Sharky Blue: I was scrolling thru facebook one day and came across an ad for a radio station looking for new DJs without any experience needed. I immediately filled out the form. I’d say that this is the only good sponsored ad I’ve ever gotten on facebook. The radio has always been an important aspect of my life, and radio DJ has been top on career goals for a while as well. The first time I actively listened to music outside of what my parents listen to was when I discovered the oldies and classic rock station on a clock radio I got for Christmas in third grade. I think the first time I ever thought “I wanna be a DJ” was when I heard my friend’s dad’s show on KPSU when I was in high school, and was introduced to all this garage rock, punk and power pop that I’d never heard before. I think the radio has a power to change someone’s life that’s really important, especially when it’s put back in the hands of the people like on freeform.
Beanie: You’ve probably put more time into covering shifts and holes on the air than any other DJ at the station; Firstly, we are all amazing and eternally grateful for you; Secondly, how do you like to mix things up when you’re on air for a 6 hour shift?
Sharky Blue: In short, we get weird. Last cycle, we took over another empty slot and started a second show, Treasure Huntin. Essentially, this was meme radio. It was two hours every other week where we let go of all pretense and just did weird stuff. We’d play around with the speeds of our records, play the same record at the same time, scratch the records and play dumb videos on the internet. Playing around and not taking things seriously is how we like to mix things up and make the hours go by fast. But really, I’m just so blessed to be on the radio that I like to take advantage of it as much as I can. I’m having so much fun that it hardly ever feels like a job.
Beanie: What do you like to do when you’re not covering shifts?
Sharky Blue: My main thing I do when I’m not at the station is watch and make movies. Portland has a great film community in addition to its music community, so there’s always great things showing at any of the many theaters here. I go to the Hollywood and Academy Theatre a lot when I can find the time. I go to PCC for video production, so whenever I’m not in class, at the station, working my day job or sleeping I’m on set. I like to have a lot of different projects on my plate at once. My end goal is to be able to edit documentaries professionally, but I can do work in all other aspects of filmmaking in the meantime. I also like to draw, read comics and Stephen King novels, and play the drums.
Beanie: What is one of your favorite memories in your time volunteering with Freeform?
Sharky Blue: There’s been a lot since I’ve been volunteering so much. Pretty much every time I’ve gotten out and interacted with other DJs has been great, whether it’s donor drive, station meetings or just seeing each other before a show, my interactions with other freeform DJs have been on the whole extremely positive. We’ve got a great community here and I’m glad to be a part of it.
I first met Melanie many years ago in my hometown of Flagstaff, AZ. She was one of many fellow Navajo teens who were into punk and metal. At the time, there was a huge scene of Native kids in the Southwest who were heavily into these sub-genres of music. Though never explicitly stated, I think we gravitated towards these genres of music because they were very nonconformist, challenged the status quo, and spoke to our similar feelings of being ignored in the United States.
I reconnected with Melanie in Portland largely through the zine scene. We had both relocated to Portland in our twenties, but were traveling in different circles. She and her zine partner had just released their first zine, Empower Yoself Before You Wreck Yoself. I had also started making zines, and it was nice having other Navajo zinesters in the scene and supporting each other when we could. While our zines were primarily focused on our respective Native identities, they were drastically different in tone and style. Aesthetically, I had a more DIY/punk feel, and Melanie’s project was more rockabilly and hip hop-influenced.
When I started my radio show, Zines In Stereo, Melanie was at the top of my list for guests.
1. What got you into zines, initially?
About five years ago, I started working for a library, and that’s where I discovered zines. First, it started as a mild curiosity (what are these things and who’s making them?), but after some digging, I found zines that I could relate to on such a personal level, an example being Women of Color: How to Live in the City of Roses and Avoid the Pricks. My head almost exploded when I discovered this zine series. Here were these local WOC talking about the ups and downs of living in Portland and putting it out there in the world! And they were everyday people that I could hang out with! Then, a former zine partner suggested we make a zine for Native women and it all snowballed from there. Very serendipitous.
2. Why were zines chosen as your outlet to discuss Native/Indigenous issues?
First and foremost, zines are fun to make: cutting, gluing, drawing, writing, stapling, etc. When it’s done, it’s this beautiful, tangible object that you can hold in your hands. Also, there’s a difference between continually scrolling through your phone, latching onto to something for about ten seconds (if it even catches your attention at all) and then moving on. Zines, along with other print material, actually make you stop, think, and process. During the height of my zine days, I intentionally made them flashy in order to catch people’s attention, to have them take up as much space as possible. They were also sold cheap or given out for free in order to keep them accessible. Certain guerrilla tactics were employed such as leaving them around the city and the rez in random places. It was all about raising awareness for different Native issues, making Native women’s (along with two-spirit folx’s) existence known and letting the world know that we had something to say! The zines did have an online presence as well, but there’s just something more personal about holding one in your hands. They were little booklets of love that my former zine partner and I wanted to pass on to Native women that said, “Hey, we made this thing to build community. You can too. Contribute. Be loud with us.”
3. What was the motivation for selecting some of these songs for the playlist? Was there any particular song or artist that was of special importance?
This was a really tricky playlist to make because I listen to such a wide variety of music and I wanted to include everything! But I tried to pick songs that inspire me in some way, spark creativity, get me in the writing mood or just make me want to dance. I also tried to incorporate several different genres with several different themes: songs as a form of resistance, songs that I find poetic and songs that are just straight up silly and make me laugh (“Thunder on the Tundra”–I love this song!). A notable song worth highlighting is Sevdaliza’s “Bebin.” She’s an Iranian/Dutch singer who wrote this song in opposition to Trump’s Executive Order 13769 (Muslim travel ban). I find it so powerful and beautiful. Also, Brody Dalle (pronounced “doll”) is one of my favorite musicians of all time. Her musical range has changed, fluctuated, and grown a lot over the years, and she’s received a lot of criticism for it. Many punk elitists have condemned this change, stating that she isn’t “punk” enough anymore, and I’m not buying that noise at all. Musicians are allowed to grow and change; actually I think it should be encouraged. Experiment. Experiment. Experiment! Test your own boundaries (also, can we please not define a woman’s musical career by the men she happens to be involved with at the time? K, thanks). Also, I’ve been obsessively listening to Ministry’s “Every day is Halloween” for the last month.
4. POC seem to be really utilizing zines to spread information. What are your thoughts on this phenomenon as a writer, zinester, and as someone who works within the library system?
Zines can offer a safe space from the internet. You can engage with other POC, subcultures, LGBTQ2S, feminism and other social justice movements without the threat of internet trolls. Also, zines are a free-for-all. A total and complete freedom of expression. One is not confined to the edits and layouts of traditional media publishing, and also not the callousness of social media platforms. Social media can be a great way to reach the masses and share ideas quickly, but whether it’s Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook, if one doesn’t conform to certain guidelines or aesthetics (“Is this selfie angled just right?”), then it doesn’t reach an audience. Social media can leave one feeling really invisible or invalidated. Who needs that? Push away from the corner that social media has everyone shoved into. Make zines. Make art. Make music. Do it yourself.
5. What are your favorite zines?
Sooooo many…
Brown, Proud Y Loud: Guerrillera LA #1
Kimiwan
Tranquila Zine: a d.i.y. zine on how to deal with YOUR anxiety
Xicanx Crybaby
Colonialism and the Legacy of Patriarchy
And Now My Watch Begins: 6 years of sobriety my way AKA staying sober while staying woke
Raccoons Doing Things
Tacocidal Tendencies
The IDGAF Book of Spells
The Adventures of Mr. Cat
I love Wendy O. Williams
Self-Care Cats
to name a few…
6. Besides music and zines, what other art inspires you?
Street art, cats, graphic novels (anyone else obsessed with Saga?), Yayoi Kusama, and Frida Kahlo.
7. I know you consider yourself a retired zinester, and you’ve been doing more work in “established media,” but do you think zines helped you bridge that gap? Or do you think you would have done it without zines?
Zines unequivocally, irrefutably bridged that gap. Zines helped me find me voice, put my name and ideas out there, and, as a result, so many other opportunities arose. Once the zines started to gain momentum, publishing houses started reaching out, and I had to learn how to negotiate with them. I learned about other DIY platforms (like Medium) through other zinesters. I’ve also been invited to participate in several events and speaking engagements where I was able to network with all kinds of creative people. Zines opened up an entirely new world for me that I didn’t even know existed, and I will always be incredibly grateful for them. If you’re thinking about making a zine, I say do it and don’t even look back.
8. What projects are you currently working on? Are there any future events you’d like to promote?
Right now I’m attempting to get a book of poetry published, although I’m not in any huge rush. Maybe this will be the year that I finally write my novel?!
Kesheena Doctor is a Navajo punk living in Portland. They have an ongoing zine that revolves around their identity called Going Places. In addition to volunteering as a dj at Freeform Portland, they also volunteer at the IPRC. Their current show at Freeform is called Zines In Stereo, where they play music and interview their zine friends. For the next volunteer cycle, they are planning on having a show that plays punk & experimental music created by femmes, queers, and POC.
The story of humanity’s international melody of lamentation, which can still be heard in popular music everywhere, starts, as many things do, in ancient Greece. Greek tragedy didn’t fuck with just major or minor chord progressions like most Western music; this would have been too easy. Pythagorus had his own tuning system for christ’s sake. No — ancient Greeks had their own music theory. Various arrangements of notes, sometimes atonal, could be used by a Greek chorus to gut-wrenching emotional effect. The crowd favorite for a heartfelt lament was dubbed the ‘Dorian’ mode, after the Dorians of classical Greece.
Think of the Dorian mode as another kind of key; not major or minor, just different. Since most Greek modes consisted of groups of four notes (aka “tetrachords”), the descending order of notes in the Dorian mode would become known for their somber quality as a “lament bass”. This bass line, starting with the Dorian Greeks, has survived right up to the twenty-first century – through the Andalusian cadence of flamenco music and Viennese opera to Green Day’s “Brain Stew”.
The big boss of lament bass would have to be Italian composer Claudio Monteverdi, a pioneer of opera and a crucial figure in renaissance music. One piece of Monderverdi’s music, the sad story of “Lamento Della Ninfa” (“Nymph’s Lament”) appearing in a book of madrigals published in 1638, would embed itself in popular culture for centuries. Built off a single descending fourth of A-G-F-E, a lament bass, the nymph weeps an aria of beauty and captivating unpredictability. Several times, the nymph’s melody implies a key change, but the bass just keeps chugging along: A-G-F-E… A-G-F-E…
This kind of minimal repetition was unusual for the time. The Nymph’s Lament was much more simplistic than most orchestral music of the Baroque era. Melodic invention in the 1600s was expected to be as rococo as the furniture. But fast forward a few hundred years and all of pop music is based on melodic repetition.
During Monteverdi’s time, a repetitive bass line, then called a continuo, would finally be welcomed into popular music. The effect was immediate and became widely popular with European audiences. To quote Ellen Rosand’s 1979 Music Quarterly article, The Descending Tetrachord: An Emblem Of Lament: “During the fourth and fifth decades of the seventeenth century, a particular bass line pattern, the descending minor tetrachord, came to assume a quite specific function associated almost exclusively with a single expressive genre, the lament.“
The descending tetrachord swept the continent in popular music, as the public’s ears had been tuned to recognize the pain and sorrow implied in a lament bass. In a way, the bass line alone was able to express tragedy. Simply the presence of this melody was mournful enough, even without operatic lyrics expressing grief or sadness.
No prior knowledge of Greek language or music theory was required to connect with the anguish embedded in a descending tetrachord: the lament bass spoke for itself. All nations and cultural milieus had the same emotional response. There seemed to be a magnetism to this melody, like a whirlpool that drew the listener in to its turbulent waters, drowning them in its troubled wake.
The lament bass was not the only melodic line to win over composers and their courts. The “Plagal” cadence branded anything even remotely religious in the Christian world with its emblematic 4 to 1 cadence. Just think of the ending of any church choir song, the part where they all say “AAAAHH-MENNNN:” thats the Plagal cadence.
On the flip side, the church would not allow, ever, a flatted fifth. Just the thought of it would defile their squeaky clean psalms. No, this interval was considered harsh, ugly, dirty, and even Satanic — all values worth their weight in gold on the modern music market. Black Sabbath would later employ the flatted fifth to infamy.
Today the echoes from those ancient Greek choirs are still reverberating. The Beatles used the descending tetrachord… a LOT (see also “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”). The lament bass is everywhere in popular music. 2019’s Billboard hot 100 reeks of the descending tetrachord; the current #1 Billboard song, Ariana Grande’s “7 Rings” (yeah, the “Favorite Things” rip-off) offers a great example of this in opening notes. And it’s not just Ariana. Check today’s other Billboard top 10s: Halsey, Travis Scott, and just about every darkwave band.
In the end, this is just another melody out there in a never-ending sea of melodies. Sure, all meaning inherent in any art form is implied not intrinsic, it’s really up to the audience to derive and extract their own feelings. So the lament bass is just a bass line then.
But is it really? Could there be some inherent emotional quality that can cross cultural borders and language barriers? Music has that power. And the descending tetrachord seems to possess an innate spiritual force that drives its melody in to the future, persistently, century after century, all in only four notes.
Taylor Hill is a writer, musician and ghoul currently hosting The Based Goth Radio Show on Freeform Portland.
Where do comedy and music meet? It has to be more than just Weird Al Yankovic and Adam Sandler, right? Thankfully, the answer is a giant and resounding YES! Put away your lyrics about lunch ladies and forget that song where white boy tries to rap about being white and nerdy. We’re onto BIGGER and BETTER things in this article. Let’s take a closer look at comedy and music—why they work so well together and way funnier examples of tunes and jokes colliding.
Comedy and music are both art forms that rely on rhythm to connect with their audience. In comedy, it’s all about how you time your jokes in a performance. In music, if the rhythm is off or out of tune it can ruin the song and end up sounding like a bunch of garbage. The union of both art forms can be quite enjoyable if done right (or done wrong with humorous intention).
Every genre of music has a funny side–even classical music! From the LOL rock n’ roll ballads of Tenacious D to the catchy and often hilarious stylings of Outkast, it’s so easy to fall in love with these bands and sing-a-long to them in the car over and over again. (Fight me on the Tenacious D reference because Jack Black is still one of the funniest human beings to ever exist and I can prove it).
But let’s take a look at the important difference between intentionally funny comedy-inspired music and the unintentionally funny. We can start with Bob Dylan’s Christmas album, Christmas in the Heart (2009). It was his 34th studio album and, honestly, one of his greatest in the last twenty years if we are considering it’s humorous existence over it’s musical or vocal mastery. A 67-year-old Bob Dylan singing “Winter Wonderland” is something the world never needed to hear. However, it exists and we have to cope with it by simply laughing, never listening to it again, and then blogging about it at least a few times. On this related note, who else could not stop watching Fergie demolish the National Anthem this past year at the NBA All Star Game? A great example of music accidentally meets comedy.
And then we have the more nuanced comedic music with songs like “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette. Many people have a hard time using irony correctly. Looking at the lyrics in this song, most of the examples Alanis gives of irony are not actually ironic. Some people stop reading the song there and make fun of how stupid Alanis is for writing it. BUT! If you dig a little deeper, it’s actually VERY ironic to write a song about irony and have none of it be ironic! Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think?
Some of my favorite funny songs come from back in the day when people couldn’t sing about smoking weed so they used to sing about how much they loved eating spinachinstead. And then other times they didn’t care and just sang explicitly about it which was also funny and awesome.
But ultimately comedy is a personal taste and different for everyone! I happen to think “Mind Your Own Business” by Delta 5 is one of the most fun and hilarious songs to sing-a-long to, but so far no one who has ever listened to it with me finds the humor in it. Also, if you haven’t been obsessed with the wonderful weird and funny world of Tierra Whack, check it out right now.
Maura Campbell-Balkits co-hosts Pink Noise every other Monday night, 10pm to midnight.
Janet Reno (July 21, 1938-Nov 7, 2016) was the first woman to serve as US Attorney General (AG) under the Clinton administration. Some key events that occurred under her tenure as AG were: 1) authorizing immigration officers to remove 5-year-old Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez, by gunpoint, from his Cuban-American family to return him to his biological father in Cuba; 2) the FBI seige and subsequent assault on David Koresh’s Branch Davidian compound, resulting in 76 deaths, 25 of which were children; and 3) the capture and convictions of “Unabomber” Ted Kaczynski, and Oklahoma City terrorists Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols.
Reno was born in Miami, Florida to Henry Reno, a police reporter in Dade county, and Jane Reno, a naturalist who wrestled small alligators. Reno grew up as the oldest of four siblings, living on twenty-one acres bordering the Everglades, where her mother constructed their family home, despite having no building experience and digging the foundation with her hands and a shovel. Her mother’s strength and independence had a huge impact on the persona of Janet, who roamed the property with peacocks, alligators and other flora and fauna in their Everglade home. After graduating high school in Miami, Reno attended Cornell University and graduated in 1960 with a degree in chemistry. She applied to Harvard Law School and was admitted, graduating in 1963, one of a small cadre of women within a class of 500 men (Hulse, 2016).
Reno began serving in government as general counsel to the Judiciary Committee of the Florida House of Representatives in 1971. Her focus was to help overhaul the Florida court system which inspired her to campaign for her own state legislative seat. Unfortunately she lost to a Republican candidate due in part to the reelection win of President Richard Nixon. Richard Gerstein, then state attorney for Dade county, offered Reno employment on his staff, and within a few years she was Gerstein’s chief assistant. Gerstein resigned in 1978 after serving 21 years, and Gov. Rubin Askew made Reno interim state attorney. She was the first female to hold that office in Florida, maintaining stewardship of a large jurisdiction. Reno persevered through many murder, drug and corruption cases. She was accused of being “anti police” in 1980 after she prosecuted five Miami police officers in the fatal beating of a black insurance executive, Arthur McDuffie, after a traffic stop. She asserted that the officers tried to make his death look like an accident. Unfortunately the officers were acquitted by an all-white jury, which led to four days of rioting in Liberty City, Miami’s predominantly black neighborhood (Hulse, 2016).
After the rioting started, Reno immediately began outreach efforts into Miami‘s black neighborhoods to help quell racial anger from yet another police lynching. The riot in Liberty City was the first racially motivated riot since the Civil Rights era and was the most destructive up to that point. The unrest claimed 18 lives and the damages incurred totalled eighty million dollars. The National Guard were called in to restore order. Luther Campbell, aka Luke Skyywalker, could not recall if he took part in the Liberty City riot, or if he was a looter. The Miami Bass sound was popular in Miami, stemming from 1979 when Luke Skyywalker started the genre with his group, Ghetto Style DJs. In the 1980s, 2 Live Crew, produced by Luke Skyywalker, led Miami Bass into national mainstream culture (Sarig, 2007).
Reno experienced conflicting responses from Miami’s African-American community after the police acquittal, with many accusing her of having a bias against the black community because of the exoneration. Many African-American leaders asked for her resignation, and Jesse Jackson went to Miami to advocate for her to step down from her position as state attorney. The repercussions from the acquittal inspired Reno to speak more directly to Miami’s black communities, and she dedicated more time to understanding the concerns of Miami’s black citizens. A noteworthy issue Reno was passionate about was the large number of “deadbeat dads.” This issue moved her to delegate special departments in her office to provide justice for single mothers and by the next election cycle in the mid 80s, Reno’s credibility in the Dade County black communities was redeemed and she ran without any opposition (Sarig, 2007).
Reno’s popularity among black women was especially high. Luther Campbell supported Reno by running a voter drive during the election season. Campbell’s cousin Anquette Allen came onto the scene with a “beef” track to 2 Live Crew’s “Throw the D,” with “Throw the P.” She was the leader of an all-female Miami Bass trio named Anquette, along with rappers Keia Red and Ray Ray. Following their early singles in 1986, they released an LP called Ghetto Style the following year, along with their Liberty City anthem, “Shake it – Do the 61st.” Anquette then came out with “Janet Reno” on Luke Skyywalker records in 1988.
In “Janet Reno” Anquette raps about Reno when she was Florida State Attorney as a heroine fighting for single mothers’ rights. She was an advocate for taking from child support evading deadbeat dads and giving back to hard working single mothers in Miami. Anquette reminds ladies to, “Make sure that you got some protection; think twice the next time before you jump right in the bed; take a minute out to put a rubber on your head.” Anquette’s advocacy aimed to protect the “P” and their song “Janet Reno” empowered single mothers along with Reno’s child support policies. The chorus was to the tune of “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” sung “Janet Reno comes to town collecting all the money; you stayed one day then ran away and started actin’ funny; she caught you down on 15th Ave, you tried to hide your trail; she found your ass and locked you up, now who can’t post no bail.”
The song debuted during the November 1988 election cycle. After Reno heard the song she was interviewed by the Miami Herald. She explains that she “did not understand all of it but it says we all have to take care of our own, if you bring a child into the world, you have to be prepared to face up to the responsibilities.” Reno clearly had no intention of dancing to “Janet Reno” publicly (Tomb, 2016).
In the next election cycle a conservative Christian lawyer, Jack Thompson, who was involved with the religious right in Dade County from Coral Gables, posed to deseat Reno from her ten year appointment. Thompson’s campaign attacked Reno, openly questioning Reno’s sexual orientation and trying to “out” her publicly. Reno was again re-elected by a large margin but neither Thompson nor his followers stopped their campaign against Reno after their defeat.
In 1989, 2 Live Crew, on Luke Skyywalker Records, released one of the most sexually explicit recordings ever sold. As Nasty As They Wanna Be offered listeners the dirtiest, nastiest most depraved songs depicting sexual aggression and XXX-rated racist humor. One track above all became a cultural flashpoint: “Me So Horny,” with its Vietnamese vocal sample from Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket, still makes Asian women cringe, wince, and experience homicidal ideation when strangers say that catch phrase to them in a “Vietnamese” accent. “Me So Horny,” one of the tamer songs on the record, went to No.1 on the Billboard Hot Rap Singles chart. 2 Live Crew became national news, even appearing on the popular nationally syndicated Arsenio Hall Show. They were targeted by Tipper Gore’s Parent Music Resource Center (PMRC), As Nasty As They Wanna Beresponsible for corrupting American youth morals. If only they’d had warning stickers to inform their children’s purchasing decisions.
In the end, Tipper Gore was the best marketer of As Nasty As They Wanna Be and likely broadened its appeal exponentially, especially among white Christian teenage boys. Christopher Won Wong, cofounder of the band, was the first prominent Asian-American rapper, he was Trinidadian and Cantonese. Other musicians in the group were DJ Mister Mix (David Hobbs), Amazing Vee (Yuri Vielot), Luther Campbell (Luke Skyywalker) and Brother Marquis (Mark Ross). 2 Live Crew were used to controversy from their previous releases, 2 Live is What We Are (1986) and Move Somethin’ (1988). These albums were so nasty record store clerks of the big chains began to experience parental backlash. Jack Thompson, the guy who’d just lost to Reno, took it upon himself to join with the American Family Association to use his political connections to target and ban As Nasty As They Wanna Be. Thompson worked with Florida’s Governor Bob Martinez in a campaign to ban the album statewide. Martinez advised Thompson to obtain an obscenity level for the album in local jurisdictions, so Thompson enacted Sheriff Navarro in Broward County, neighboring Dade, which enabled a ruling from County Court Judge Mel Grossman, to terminate sales of As Nasty in Broward county. 2 Live Crew countered with a censorship suit filed against Navarro for violation of their first amendment rights. 2 Live Crew went to court in June, supported by intellectual giants like African-American scholar Henry Louis Gates, who taught at Yale and Cambridge. Gates testified 2 Live Crew’s songs were versed in the African American oral tradition of parody, perhaps being explicit but not obscene. Unfortunately U.S. District Judge Jose Gonzalez ruled As Nasty was obscene, and 2 Live Crew was the first band in U.S. history to have a popular recording banned (Sarig, 2007).
2 Live Crew, now nationally infamous, continued to play shows. Led by Luke Skyywalker, the rap group played shows at adults-only clubs which ended in their arrest. Road managers posted their bail immediately and the band was off to the next venue. Record stores continued to sell As Nasty under the table and undercover police officers would arrest and fine record store owners who sold the album in Broward County. As Nasty,sold more than 2 million copies worldwide but touring became increasingly more difficult for the band due to insurance costs because of liability from harassment from local law enforcement wherever they performed.
Luther Campbell credits Reno in being the only state prosecutor who chose not to come after 2 Live Crew because of obscenity laws. At the height of their fame in 1990, Campbell explains, “In fact she defended our right to be as nasty as we wanted to be.” Campbell formed a youth program, The Liberty City Optimist Club, and Reno was the first person to donate to the program. Reno was loved in the Miami black communities because of her advocacy in standing up for African Americans when no other politician would. Campbell states, “As Miami-Dade County State Attorney and the first woman U.S. Attorney General, Reno handled her high profile jobs with professionalism,” Campbell wrote. “She never allowed politics to dictate her decisions. Reno was a true Florida icon.” (Respers, 2016).
References
Hulse, C. (2016). Janet Reno, first woman to serve as U.S Attorney General dies at 78
DJ Name: Rock n Roll Ghost Freeform Show Name: Chilling, Thrilling Sounds of the Rock n Roll Ghost Freeform Day/Time of Show: Each Tuesday from 4am-6am Interview by: Beanie
Beanie:What’s your earliest memory of falling in love with Rock n Roll?
Rock n Roll Ghost: Hmmm… Well, the first record I remember buying was Steve Martin’s Wild and Crazy Guy, but in terms of the music I like, listen to and program for my show, it comes out of some cassette tapes my sister gave me after her freshman year in college when I was 14. I’d already been listening to some widely available punk rock – Sex Pistols, Ramones, The Clash – but these tapes were what most people refer to as “post-punk” – Wire, The Fall, The Birthday Party, plus some other US stuff, Flipper, X and The Gun Club. I’m very vocal about the fact that it was my older sister and these handful of tapes that completely changed my trajectory.
Beanie: Which ghost of rock n roll pasts haunts you the most?
Rock n Roll Ghost: Probably the first real shock to my system, in terms of accidental deaths, was D. Boon of the Minutemen from San Pedro, California. At the time, in the early 1980s, the Minutemen were at the tip of the spear of the American punk rock scene, although even now I feel ashamed pigeon-holing them into any genre, but they were ours and they spoke to us and so I call them punk rock because that’s what we were, Punks. The Minutemen were truly original, drawing influences from rock, jazz, punk, folk, soul and spoken word, overtly political in their left-leaning message, but could also be intensely personal with their music. Their song History Lesson – Part II from 1984’s Double Nickels On The Dime is such a beautiful and gentle ode to finding “one’s place,” it tightens my chest and moistens my eyes writing about it even now.
Beanie: What kinds of themes and experiments do you explore when preparing for a new set?
Rock n Roll Ghost: I have lots of records now and always try to vary my sets, themes are easier sometimes, prepping a set of LA or DC bands cuts the inventory down immensely, it’s actually kind of a cheat in some ways, because the theme becomes the thread that binds the songs, but mostly I want to make the music sound consistent to the listener and the experience entertaining. I’ll toss in short recorded lines from movies – some well-known, some obscure, some fun, some very niche-oriented – and use them as segways, in conjunction with the songs, or use songs as an exclamation to the line, something like: It’s 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark… and we’re wearing sunglasses. Hit it then slam into TV Eye by The Stooges. This example actually isn’t one I’ve ever done at Freeform Portland, but did on my first gig as a college radio DJ and recall getting a good response, it’s simple, keeps things fresh and makes it fun. It’s not a new thing at all, I remember hearing it all the time on radio in the ‘70s when I was young.
Beanie: What was the first concert you remember attending?
Rock n Roll Ghost: The first time I ever remember seeing live music played on a stage was the summer of 1981, I would have been 12 years old then and my family was on vacation in Aspen, Colorado. I saw a flyer that Pure Prairie League was playing some local bar, my sister had some of their records and we asked our parents to take us. In the summertime Aspen was very sleepy and it was a real local crowd, I’m sure it was my first barroom experience as well. I’ve been racking my brain to remember the first show I would have seen where I grew up in the DC area, and I think it was Let’s Active with the DB’s at the 9:30 Club in early 1985. I didn’t have a driver’s license, nor did the friend I went with, but his older brother took us. DC was great in that regard, if you were underage you could still get into bars and clubs to see the band, they just put a big magic marker X on the back of your hand showing you were under legal age to drink, the origins of the straight edge X.
Beanie: How did you decided to get involved with Freeform Radio? What’s your experience been like so far?
Rock n Roll Ghost: As earlier noted, I’d been involved with college radio in the late 80’s and early 90’s, so the idea of being a DJ wasn’t alien to me, but I didn’t even know Freeform Portland existed. I have lots of records that have been deleted from back catalogs, aren’t on streaming services or are just scarce, and I would make mix cassette tapes for people. When I was growing up we used to do it all the time, but, making them in this century, it was a quirky throwback and not so easy anymore, and the recipient knew it was a real labor of love. A friend working at another local community radio station recommended Freeform Portland and I applied. The application asked for a sample set list and I just entered the last mix tape I’d recorded. There are a ton of people who work at the station and the age range is vast, folks I would never meet, so often, if I’m in the area, I try to stop through and introduce myself to whomever is broadcasting. I find the esprit de corps at the station tremendous, and it’s really been a positive affect for me.
On November 11th, 2018 Jim and I were present in the audience to witness Claudio Simonetti’s Goblin at the Hawthorne Theater in Portland, OR. We approached this with the trepidation of old fans. Neither of us had seen him live. Since the band was playing over their Suspiria score, we figured it would be good. We found parking for the Hawthorne Theater awful, especially when it is cold, windy and rainy. This was my first experience seeing a show there, although Jim had seen Quasi, the Sonics, and the Coathangers.
Audience members were given the option of paying extra to watch the band perform a second set following the main screening. Jim and I did not know what to expect, but we were delighted to be able to sit down. To facilitate this, the Hawthorne Theater had arranged a movie seating area, amassing many chairs packed arm to arm so it was particularly cosy with a sold-out show. Behind the stage was a king-size white tarp, hung slightly wavy. Simonetti’s synthesizers were set up to the left front of the stage, with the bass center, the guitar to the right, and drums in back.
Of the original lineup, only Simonetti remained in this iteration. He was joined by Bruno Previtali on guitar, Cecilia Nappo on bass, and Titta Tani on drums. Simonetti was on synthesizers and voice, with occasional rhythm guitar. Once obscure, he is now world famous, his contributions to Giallo and Italo Disco massive. Previtali and Tani also play with Simonetti in his metal band, Daemonia. The band came on stage dressed in what some might construe as “heavy metal” attire. I appreciated this, and Simonetti’s maestro outfit embellished with golden buttons and coat tails as he sat down in front of his keyboards, quickly flashing goat horns to denote his dedication. The other band members also sat in chairs, and the film began.
Audiences who are familiar with Suspiria appreciate its intense color palette, visually stunning sets, militant dance instructors, and bloody witchcraft conspiracies. When Simonetti’s Goblin started playing with the airport opening, it was somewhat confusing who to watch, the band or the movie. I opted for the band when the score was playing. They did appear a little bored in longer dialogue-laden sections of Suspiria when they were not needed and had little to do. Only Simonetti was at an angle where he could see the screen, but mostly he just stared at the floor and listened, coming to life gradually as each next cue approached. The sinister raspy voices so synonymous with the score were considerably less scary when paired with the band members making them, but the sound was nevertheless incredible. The band tours with their own sound engineer, and what the film lacked in being shown on a sheet, it made up for in sonics. We were surprised that the signature sound in the title track, that sounds sort of like a drawn out doumbek drum, is actually a bass slide. Having heard the score so many times, and not being musicians ourselves, we realized we had made incorrect assumptions about the instruments used to generate effects on some tracks on the original LP.
After Suspiria ended, Simonetti introduced the second set after a brief intermission. It seemed the band had lots of pent up energy after enduring yet another screening of Suspiria. Stage hands took away their chairs and Simonetti’s Goblin played songs from Tenebrae, Deep Red, Demons, Phenomena, Dawn of the Dead, and others. With each cue, there were creepy, violent and gore splattered scenes from each movie projected behind them. From Phenomena, Jennifer Connelly is ethereal as she commands insects with a falsetto choir score, quickly cutting to the scene where she falls into a swimming pool full of maggots. From Dawn of the Dead, it was Tom Savini’s motorcycle gang massacring zombies in a mall. Having run through the repetitive ambient rifts required by Suspiria, it was with this set that the band really came alive, thrashing guitar and synthesizer power refrains over complex bass lines and double bass drums. We were mesmerized. Neither section of the show disappointed. Simonetti’s Goblin was a giallo proggy explosion, and we were thankful to have the opportunity to see him performing his legendary songs in a small venue packed with fellow fans.
Written by Karen Lee (Weekend Family Music Hour) & Jim Bunnelle (Center for Cassette Studies).
