Detonation Radio one: I'll come running.
I used to do radio, back in college. Which was not so long ago in objective time, even though it seems like it was. Anyway. I miss doing my radio show more than probably anything in the world. I would go in there every week, and for two hours I was. if not the God, certainly a god. One of the minor ones. A demigod, perhaps.1
I've never really bothered trying to do radio after graduating, mainly for reasons of time. Podcasting, while somewhat appealing, lacks the real-time aspect that is at least half the fun of DJing; without that element, you're just making a mix CD, an exercise that I generally find tedious and boring. Of course some DJs manage to make live radio DJing tedious and boring by burning their tedious, boring shows onto a CD and just playing that CD over the air, something that makes no sense to me on any level whatsoever. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned.
The last time I did any live DJing was back in June. On Friday I went to a party at the domicile of the publisher of a certain online publication for which I wrote a widely ignored record review shortly before swearing never to write more than a paragraph about any band ever again. This guy is one of the ten or so people that I've conned into thinking that I am a good writer. Anyway, the party was fun, many drinks were had, and I extracted a promise from a friend of mine that I can DJ at her next party. All good things. The bad things started, as they so often do, on the L train. Or, more specifically, at the L train station, where I ate it hard on the stairs. I was hoping that my face would end up looking like I'd been in a fight, which would've afforded me the opportunity to make up a cool story, but alas, as my Little Swan confirmed, it just looks like I fell down a flight of stairs.
More importantly, though, I hurt my knees really bad. Not only do they look like hell, but the pain in them makes it difficult for me to perform strenuous activities like, er, walking. Or standing. Or sitting down. So as I lay in bed contemplating suicide and several missed days of work, I thought I might as well try out this podcasting deal. If for no other reason than that my opportunities for actual DJing are, well, nonexistent.
So. Detonation Radio one, for use in all finer mp3 devices. Available every Sunday, in theory. Not necessarily themed, not interested in blowing your mind with obscure tracks, not really coherent at all. My injuries have compelled me to make this inaugural edition a celebration of the joys of mobility. I do hope that its meager audience comes away sufficiently entertained.
Podcast link: http://totale.libsyn.com. Playlist is there, too, although I'm sure you're cool enough to recognize every song seconds after it starts. Just in case, though.
And if you're into catching podcasts on iTunes or iPodder or what have you, plug http://totale.libsyn.com/rss into your aggregator thingy to have Detonation Radio delivered right to you whenever there's a new one.
This should be a weekly thing, so check back every Sunday. If you're reading. Which you're not.
1 You may have noticed that this post, so far, has nothing to do with Jonathan Safran Foer. In fact, I might as well tell you right now that this entry is never going to get around to talking about Jonathan Safran Foer. There is a good reason for this, I assure you.
I've never really bothered trying to do radio after graduating, mainly for reasons of time. Podcasting, while somewhat appealing, lacks the real-time aspect that is at least half the fun of DJing; without that element, you're just making a mix CD, an exercise that I generally find tedious and boring. Of course some DJs manage to make live radio DJing tedious and boring by burning their tedious, boring shows onto a CD and just playing that CD over the air, something that makes no sense to me on any level whatsoever. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned.
The last time I did any live DJing was back in June. On Friday I went to a party at the domicile of the publisher of a certain online publication for which I wrote a widely ignored record review shortly before swearing never to write more than a paragraph about any band ever again. This guy is one of the ten or so people that I've conned into thinking that I am a good writer. Anyway, the party was fun, many drinks were had, and I extracted a promise from a friend of mine that I can DJ at her next party. All good things. The bad things started, as they so often do, on the L train. Or, more specifically, at the L train station, where I ate it hard on the stairs. I was hoping that my face would end up looking like I'd been in a fight, which would've afforded me the opportunity to make up a cool story, but alas, as my Little Swan confirmed, it just looks like I fell down a flight of stairs.
More importantly, though, I hurt my knees really bad. Not only do they look like hell, but the pain in them makes it difficult for me to perform strenuous activities like, er, walking. Or standing. Or sitting down. So as I lay in bed contemplating suicide and several missed days of work, I thought I might as well try out this podcasting deal. If for no other reason than that my opportunities for actual DJing are, well, nonexistent.
So. Detonation Radio one, for use in all finer mp3 devices. Available every Sunday, in theory. Not necessarily themed, not interested in blowing your mind with obscure tracks, not really coherent at all. My injuries have compelled me to make this inaugural edition a celebration of the joys of mobility. I do hope that its meager audience comes away sufficiently entertained.
Podcast link: http://totale.libsyn.com. Playlist is there, too, although I'm sure you're cool enough to recognize every song seconds after it starts. Just in case, though.
And if you're into catching podcasts on iTunes or iPodder or what have you, plug http://totale.libsyn.com/rss into your aggregator thingy to have Detonation Radio delivered right to you whenever there's a new one.
This should be a weekly thing, so check back every Sunday. If you're reading. Which you're not.
1 You may have noticed that this post, so far, has nothing to do with Jonathan Safran Foer. In fact, I might as well tell you right now that this entry is never going to get around to talking about Jonathan Safran Foer. There is a good reason for this, I assure you.
posted by Dktr. Blasphemy at 11:26 PM
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