It was a show called New York Noise which has attracted my attention over these past few weeks. On WNYC TV, which is channel 25 in the New York metro area, New York Noise is a television show in the spirit of Music Television, but with music. Showcasing the lesser known or lesser played bands, the show immediately enthralls. Hosted by plainclothed city folk, professional whistlers, and rooftop garage bands, and without any commercials per se, the show avoids any pretension of trying to be faddish or cool, and instead focuses on what really matters: the music. And the added bonus, of course, with the medium of television, is that we get to see a visual interpretation of the music, which quite often surpasses the music in quality. Dream-like, surreal, and ultimately satisfying, the show is exactly what’s missing from this world where whiny, tattooed, poser-boys can play three power chords on an Ibanez and call themselves “rock-stars.” Cheers to WNYC.
As an aside, the channel also showcases hip-hop classics from the 80s and 90s, and retro new-wave songs (is fifteen years ago really retro?). And that is where, while watching a Pixies video of “Dig for Fire” that my memory was rekindled. The song awoke a long forgotten memory. Where had I heard it? 1991 said the video. My first girlfriend and my first kiss and my first real job. Life opened up. It was around that time, too, that I was heavily listening to a radio station called WDRE/WLIR (92.7 FM) on Long Island. Once a week they would play the “Shreek of the Week,” a listener-chosen best song of the week. After a brief Google, I found this: a list of every Shreek/Screamer of the Week they every played! Now, not only could I check back and see all the songs I’d forgotten, but I could know the exact date when they played a particular song. I clearly remember sitting next to my clock radio, biting my nails and listening as they played the songs, counting down to number one. And when they played the Shriek, and it was the song you loved, well, that was just bliss.
Now, I gladly await the rain and thunder predicted for this afternoon. It’s unseasonably warm here in NJ for November. When the climate finally rights itself, there will be commotion. There will be bangs. There will be rain. Cool. Very, very cool.