Dear friends,
During a training session for a new job this past week, we did a quick exercise where we listened to some hold music. We were told not to look at a clock or count in our heads, just simply raise our hand when we felt a minute had passed. The responses were of course quite varied: some people lasted only 20 seconds, some closer to 45, one person actually landed on a minute, others were over 15 seconds or so. I personally landed on a minute and a half. The point of the exercise was simply to demonstrate how relative time really is, but naturally I got more caught up thinking about the music itself. Though I wouldn’t venture to call it good, it does have some sly brilliance to it as accompaniment to a wait. Just a notch above bland with a subtly varied structure, it doesn’t really warrant attention, but it also never quite feels frustratingly repetitive. It has a way of melting time. I’m not sure this would ring as praise to its creator, especially considering it was never intended to soundtrack the stress and frustration of millions of people each year.
It got me thinking about Sam Kidel’s 2016 album Disruptive Muzak, an album that sought to channel that frustration into something that was both soothing and pointed. Kidel created a 20 minute ambient piece that sounds a bit like the last gasps of hold music’s anesthetized aesthetics, digital decomposition in real time. He then hopped on the line with the UK’s Department of Work & Pensions and played this suite to a bunch of bemused operators until they finally hung up, recording the results and adding them to the original piece. I’ve always been entranced by the results (even listening to it as I drifted off to sleep on a regular basis for a while), if a tad uncomfortable with the concept. As far as prank phone calls go it’s about as benign as it gets, and it does highlight the sort of detached, phlegmatic tones call center employees are forced to take in a beautiful way, but I can’t help but think about the other people who really need to access the department’s services just waiting on hold while operators are unknowingly engaged in conceptual art-making. It’s not that I think Kidel was wrong to do it. Agencies like these are rarely equipped to actually help people regardless of intentions, and the time Kidel wasted was surely minuscule. Still, one can never be too sure how long a wait is going to feel for each individual, regardless of how long it actually is.
Yours,
Hugh (and Adam and Kevin)
P.S. Are you interested in producing a broadcast on Real Deep Radio? If you have an idea for one-off or recurring programming that you’d like to pitch, contact us at realdeepradio@gmail.com. Let us know your concept or give us an idea of a typical broadcast. While much of our programming is based around music, we’re open to any and all aural experiences. All we ask is that it’s real deep, none of that fake deep.
SCHEDULE
all times EST, tune in at https://mixlr.com/real_deep_radio/
Sunday, 3/28
8:30-9:30PM – Toxic Dogs with Ivana Ng
An ode to Ivana's radio show in her college days, Toxic Dogs is an exploration of avant-garde jazz from around the world, with the occasional soul, funk and R&B. This is music for deep listening, introspection, and joyous movement.
Wednesday, 3/31
8-10PM – Nearer/Clearer with Kevin McKinney
Each installment of Nearer/Clearer will be different, but its spirit lives in the idea that we listen better when we listen together. Nearer/Clearer is devoted to approachability without predictability. This week, we’ll listen to some folk music: hope you’re ready to hear some old time string bands, unaccompanied balladiers, blues guitarists, spiritual rockers, and more.
Saturday, 4/3
8-10AM – Hypnopompia Morning Show with Michael Cormier
Music to soundtrack the fragile moments right before reaching for your phone and realizing the world has gone on without you while you slept.
RECOMMENDED
KEVIN: Recently I’ve been thinking that The Roches’ “Hammond Song” might be the best pop song ever. I’m sure I’ve said this about hundreds of songs in my life, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m being hyperbolic. But this is, after all, a song about something I hold near and dear: being in other people’s business, giving unsolicited advice. Maggie, Terre, and Suzzy Roche’s harmonies are virtuosic, sure, but the thing I love about “Hammond Song,” and about all songs on the Roches’ debut album, is the way their vocal interplay feels like an actual conversation. There’s give and take, agreement, disagreement, accord and dissonance, all in one whole. Like all the Roches’ work I’ve heard so far, “Hammond Song” feels ahead of its time in its off-kilter approach to pop songwriting, its perfect balance of wry humor with real heartbreak and catharsis. “THEY SAY WE MEET AGAIN ON DOWN THE LINE. // WHERE IS ‘ON DOWN THE LINE?’ HOW FAR AWAY? TELL ME I'M OK!”
ADAM: This week I’ve been listening to Kenny Dorham’s Round About Midnight at Cafe Bohemia from 1957. Nothing particularly fancy about this set, it’s just a really tight performance from one of jazz’s most underrated players. I’ve also been listening to Eric Dolphy’s Live at the Five Spot, which is an absolute dream team line up. Particularly compelling about this set is the interplay between Dolphy’s soulful runs and Mal Waldron’s one of a kind unique angular piano playing.