Sunday Notes of the Musical Kind

Been listening to classical, jazz, and folk lately on the radio. The classic rock station that I loved (note past tense) was bought out by some entity that started running feed from Fox Sports on Sunday afternoons. As if changing the morning show format to the same zoo crew that can be found on any other station between five and ten a.m. wasn’t bad enough, that made it worse. As FM stations had in the ’70’s, they played music, more music, a little news, even more music, perhaps a promo for a concert. But then came the new owners, and there went the broadcasting neighborhood.

There was also the problem of only playing one or two songs from a band’s body of work. The Beatles did so much more than “Hey, Jude,” and The Police have many other songs than “Roxanne” and  “Every Breath…” but someone didn’t get the memo about that.  On the contemporary stations, everything sounded alike, except for Lady Gaga’s work and “Uptown Funk.” The rest sound as if written by lyricists who had eaten cheesy self help books for breakfast or to appeal to people between the ages of eight and thirteen.

I started making more use of my car’s CD player and listening to more NPR and the progressive talk station. That and programming the classical and jazz stations into the radio helped lift my mood. It also stopped the pervasive feeling of being in a time warp brought about by oldies stations.

Inside the house, we have an internet streaming system. It bridges signals from the wireless router to our stereo system. Despite my initial impression of it being another of Hubby’s high tech toys, it has proved useful in so many ways. We get a ridiculous number of stations from around the world, ranging from the various flavors of the BBC to Bollywood (helps me to get moving when I need to clean) and everything in between.

Internet streaming also brings me Folk Alley courtesy of WKSU from Kent State University and “Old Front Porch Radio” on Tuesdays from 4-6:30 central on WXOU hosted by the lovely and charming Maggie Ferguson, one of the musicians in the Detroit folk scene. It scratches the itch for good music created by real people who use their talents and passions to bring their stories to the world rather than technology to compensate for flaws in their performances and their lack of authenticity.

A few stations have servers with terminal hiccups, but the majority play for hours with no interruptions. Our local favorites are still available but now we get a stable stream via the net rather than via the antenna that gets slapped around in adverse weather, making the signal hiss and sizzle with static, or pulling in two signals on the same frequency. In the broadcasting no-one’s land between Chicago, Peoria, and Rockford-DeKalb, this happens pretty regularly whether solar flares abound or not. (You will not know fear until you have heard “Bad Romance” interspersed with an Evangelical sermon, believe me.)

The stream of WFMT‘s program of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra playing music by French composers is proceeding without hiccups or hellfire this afternoon. Internet radio is a far cry from when I would hide under the covers with my AM radio, seeing how many distant stations I could pull in late at night.  There’s still the thrill, the intrigue, the connection of knowing that there are other people in the world listening to the same program.

However, it’s a pleasant advancement to do so sitting up and in broad daylight rather than with a blanket over my head, adjusting the volume so I wouldn’t get caught and reprimanded for being awake after midnight.

 

 

 

 

 

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