Favorites of 2023: Just the List

This time of the year every music writer’s fancy turns to the ubiquitous quest for the best of/favorites of the year. We start with a list of albums and singles we played on YTAA at least three or four times. Then we consider what songs and records slipped into our consciousness and we spent more time simply thinking about that song, that album — those words. If there is a pattern to what we loved in 2023, it is a bit hard to pin down. If we take a wild stab at an answer, 2023 was a year of amazing music from powerful, strong, thoughtful women musicians. From the incredible voice of Sarah Rudy in Hello June to the authenticity of Kim Ware and Van Plating across to the irresistible guitar tones and perfect singing of Tamar Berk, Blondshell, Beth Bombara, and Lydia Loveless, so many outstanding records were made outside of the men’s club this past year — and that is a welcome change.

Every writer, just like every music fan, has styles and sounds that they are irresistibly pulled towards. Clearly, Dr. J loves guitar. For some writers the list is likely to be diverse, reflecting a fusion of genres and innovative production techniques. And that is fine. With the continued influence of technology, some writers are drawn to artists who experimented with new sounds and collaborate across musical boundaries, creating a sonic outcome that resonates. For other writers, the search for a pure direct authenticity of instruments lead them to the streets where the music is painted without electronics. Acoustic and stripped down arrangements played on traditional equipment bring gratitude to the heavens for that music from some writers.

When crafting a list of favorites from the year, some writers will consider representation. Genres such as indie pop, electronic, and hip-hop may continue to dominate, with emerging artists bringing fresh perspectives and pushing creative boundaries. Collaborations between mainstream and indie artists could lead to unexpected yet captivating musical experiences. Shoegaze, for example, has made many returns after some commentators spilled tremendous amounts of ink over the idea that shoegaze had come and gone. Music in the year 2023 saw several bands who represented that style.

Lyrically, many of the themes explored in 2023 revolve around social issues, personal growth, feeling whatever the artist needs or desires to feel, perhaps some of the “Best” representations for the year are the songs that grab and do not let go of the human experience. Artists may use their platforms to address pressing matters, providing listeners with thought-provoking content that goes beyond mere entertainment and that might be the magic that some writers are drawn to when considering all the records and songs that came out during one trip around the sun.

There are some ‘off limits,’ ‘don’t walk on the grass’ ideas for us here at Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative. Sure, the rise of virtual and augmented reality experiences may revolutionize the way music is consumed, offering immersive and interactive performances that redefine the traditional concert experience. But for us, human beings need to be part of the creation and experience of music. Streaming platforms might incorporate cutting-edge technologies to enhance the listener’s engagement with the music and while we can and should debate the lack of compensation, which is only going to get more challenging in 2024, AI generated melodies, tones, and arrangements of notes are not considered for inclusion on our favorites of the past year.

The best albums of 2023 could be those that not only showcase exceptional musical talent but also tell compelling stories or provide a unique perspective on the world. Artists who successfully blend innovation with authenticity may find themselves at the forefront of critical acclaim and commercial success and, to be entirely transparent, will immediate draw our attention for a favorites of the year.

Ultimately, the best music of 2023 will likely be a subjective experience, as individual tastes vary widely. However, it is important to consider this a reflective exercise. Every year is poised to be an exciting time for music enthusiasts, with a plethora of sounds and styles to explore, pushing the boundaries of what we thought possible in the world of music. Every year is full of promise. No annual march of the calendar is without merit and new experiences. So, to create a list of the music that moved you in 2023, is not to close the door to new auditory love but to remember we break our hearts so we can fall in love again with songs and albums we have not even heard yet.

The list below is our start on our favorites from this past year. A longer set of articles will come out exploring what it was that caught our attention in these albums and songs.

Favorite record for us in 2023:

Hello June – Artifacts

You can read our review of this fantastic record!

This music transcends time and place, resonating with listeners in their quest for meaning and understanding. The lyrics serve as a mirror, reflecting the innermost thoughts and emotions that often remain unspoken. Hello June’s “Artifacts” is a sonic masterpiece — and we are prepared to die on that hill to defend that assertion — that deserves a place in the hearts of all music fans. It is a timeless record that captures the essence of the human experience, a treasure chest of emotions waiting to be discovered with each listen. 

In no particular order of importance but records that we believe were mightily impressive:

The 1984 Draft – Best Friends Forever

The Replacements – Tim Let It Bleed Edition (Ed Stasium Mix)

Tamar Berk – Tiny Injuries

Smug Brothers – In The Book of Bad Ideas

Elephants and Stars – Get Your Own Army

The Nautical Theme – Get Somewhere

Palm Ghosts – I Love You, Burn in Hell

Van Plating – Orange Blossom Child

Lydia Loveless – Nothing is Gonna Stand In My Way Again

Kim Ware – Homely

Bottlecap Mountain – O Fantastik Melancholy

Beth Bombara – It All Goes Up

Nicholas Johnson – Shady Pines Vol. 2

The Pretty Flowers – A Company Sleeve

The Connells – Ring (Deluxe Edition)

Black Belt Eagle Scout – The Land, The Water, The Sky

Blondshell – Blondshell

Achilles Tenderloin – Tincture for Trouble

Mike Bankhead – I Am Experienced

Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit – Weathervanes

Some of our Favorites of 2023:

Arthur Alexander – …Steppin’ Out!

Mommy – Be Your Own Pet

Frankie Rose – Love as Projection

Cold Expectations – Static Reactions

Connections – Cool Change

The Connells – Set The Stage

Dolph Chaney – Mug

En Attendant Anna – Principia

Graham Parker & The Golden Tops – Last Chance to Learn the Twist

Guided By Voices – Nowhere to Go But Up/Welshpool Frillies

H.C. McEntire – Every Acre

Jess Williamson – Time Ain’t Accidental

John P. Strohm – Ready for Nothing

Jphono1 – Invisible Futures and Make Believe Pasts

Louise Post – Sleepwalker

Love Rat – Howl at the Moon

Matt Moran – Heartache Kid (Acoustic)

The Radio Field – Don’ts and Do’s

Shannon Clark & The Sugar – This Old World

Special Friend – Selkie

Tino and DJ Marrrtin – La Pie Bavarde

Trapper Schoepp – Siren Songs

Singles

No One Sphere – Fingerz to Lips

Elephants and Stars – Bled Out At The Scene

David Payne – Best Intentions

We Met In Paris – Mont Blanc Massif

The National – Eucalyptus

sparkle_jets uk – He’s Coming Out

The Well Wishers – So Important

Tod Weidner – Raising Pain

Mike Bankhead – Latent

Given Names – Makin’ Eyes

Cowboys in The Campfire – Here We Go Again

Teenage Fanclub – Foreign Land

Hannah Jadagu – Lose

High on Stress – Over-Thru

Jeremy Porter and the Tucos – Five-Foot-Three and Tiger Eyes

Tyler Childers – Rustin’ in the Rain

Kurt Lee Wheeler – We Will Travel

Honorable Mentions

Yo La Tengo – This Stupid World

Amber Hargett – Coal Mine Canary

Brainiac – The Predator Nominate EP

Quiet Signals – Quiet Signals

Exploring the Tragedy of Unheard Records

In the digital streaming age where we all have instant access to an unparalleled variety of music — at least for now, it may seem paradoxical to consider the existence of unheard records. With thousands of records released every year and thousands of songs uploaded to streaming services every week, the sheer amount of available music is overwhelming. The vastness of the musical releases, coupled with the continuous influx of new creations and the persistent legacy of past works, results in an overwhelming number of records that remain unheard each year. Let’s delve into the reasons behind this phenomenon, exploring the factors contributing to the vast pool of undiscovered musical gems and considering the implications for both artists and listeners.

One of the strengths of music culture is the unending craft of music creation. The United States has long been a melting pot of diverse cultures, each contributing to the fantastic mix of musical genres and styles. From the birth of jazz in New Orleans to the rise of hip-hop in the Bronx, to the adventure of electronic music across the country, American music has evolved and branched out into an extraordinary array of forms. This constant evolution, driven by creativity and cultural cross-pollination, ensures a continuous influx of new records into the musical ecosystem.

The music industry, with its multifaceted nature, encompasses not only mainstream genres but also a plethora of incredible niche and independent scenes. While popular artists dominate the radio airwaves and streaming platforms, countless talented musicians operate in the peripheries, creating music that often goes unnoticed by the mainstream audience which we consider a distressing fact — and a mission of Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative to address. YTAA as a radio show always focused on independent, local and amazing music that needs to be heard.

The expansive musical universe, we all inhabit, ensures that a considerable number of records go unheard each year simply due to the sheer volume of new releases and a cultivated ignorance of the mainstream record labels to push a limited number of artists and records, and a continuation of a narrowcasting approach by radio and streaming services. Consider Spotify’s financial model focusing on records that have high sales and high engagement. And this problem — and we think of the situation as a problem — is occurring despite an increase in the sales of physical copies of records. According to Oliver Payne, writing at Music Tech.com, “Physical album sales overall also saw a notable rise of 13.3 per cent in 2023, with 41.5 million physical copies sold compared to 2022’s 36.7 million. Notably, direct-to-consumer vinyl sales experienced substantial growth, reaching 2.6 million sales.”

The advent of digital technology and the rise of streaming platforms have revolutionized the way we consume music. It is not unreasonable to think of this as a digital deluge. While this has undoubtedly increased accessibility, it has also contributed to the phenomenon of unheard records. The democratization of music production means that anyone with a creative spark and basic equipment can produce and release music independently. And this opening for musicians is to be applauded and supported so that musicians regardless of reach can create music. Consequently, the sheer volume of music flooding online platforms can be overwhelming, making it challenging for even the most dedicated music enthusiasts to sift through the multitude of releases. An amazing song or incredible record can fall through the proverbial cracks all too easily.

Moreover, as we allude to earlier, the algorithms employed by streaming services often prioritize popular and commercially viable tracks, relegating many lesser-known gems to obscurity. As a result, artists operating outside the mainstream are faced with the daunting task of breaking through the digital noise to capture the attention of potential listeners. This digital deluge, while providing unprecedented opportunities for artists to share their work, also contributes to the growing pool of unheard records.

Economic realities and the struggle for visibility in a highly competitive music industry, is a core concern tied to unheard records. The economic considerations play a significant role in determining which records rise to prominence and which remain in relative obscurity. Major record labels, with their considerable resources, can afford extensive marketing campaigns and promotion efforts to elevate their artists into the public eye. Independent and unsigned musicians often face financial constraints that limit their ability and time to invest in promotion. Which assumes that artists are even interested in promotion in a challenging media and advertising environment in the first place. This issue motivated us to have conversations with musicians invested in music promotion on our podcast, Uncool Music Conversations with Andy & Art.

The lack of financial backing can result in talented artists creating exceptional records that languish in the shadows, unable to break into mainstream consciousness. In this context, the economic realities of the music industry contribute to the perpetuation of unheard records, creating a barrier for many artists to achieve the visibility they so richly deserve.

Taste curation, both on an individual and collective level, plays a pivotal role in determining which records gain traction and which fade into uncertainty regardless of how compelling an album or a song is for someone. Individual listeners often gravitate toward familiar genres, artists, or styles, limiting their exposure to a broader spectrum of musical offerings. Additionally, the collective taste of society, shaped by trends and cultural influences, can create a homogenized musical landscape that excludes many innovative and boundary-pushing works. Part of the challenge is encouraging music fans to listen to music that they do not know. Taking a chance on unfamiliar music remains a serious impediment for getting music heard.

Furthermore, the influence of music critics, radio stations, and streaming service playlists can shape public opinion and contribute to the perpetuation of certain genres or artists at the expense of others. This taste curation, while serving as a valuable guide for listeners, can inadvertently lead to the neglect of numerous records that fall outside the established norms.

The existence of unheard records has profound implications for artists, both established and emerging. For established artists, the pressure to conform to market trends and maintain commercial success can stifle experimentation and creativity. This not only limits the artist’s ability to explore new musical territories but also contributes to the saturation of certain genres at the expense of others.

Emerging artists, on the other hand, face the uphill battle of gaining visibility and recognition amid the vast sea of unheard records. The struggle for attention in a crowded digital landscape can be disheartening, and many talented musicians may find themselves overlooked simply due to the fierce competition for audience engagement.

The phenomenon of unheard records is not merely a challenge for individual artists but also has broader implications for the overall diversity and innovation within the space of music. The musical diversity and innovation are limited when all of the attention in music is devoted to just a handful of artists or albums. When a significant portion of the musical output remains undiscovered, the potential for cross-pollination of genres, the emergence of new styles, and the evolution of musical forms is hindered.

Diversity in music is a crucial aspect of cultural expression, reflecting the myriad perspectives and experiences within society. The failure to recognize and appreciate a wide range of musical creations diminishes the richness of the cultural tapestry of music, limiting the potential for innovation and the exploration of new sonic frontiers.

Let’s consider potential solutions and avenues for discovery for a moment. Addressing the issue of unheard records requires a multifaceted approach that involves both industry stakeholders and listeners. Increased support for independent and niche scenes, including financial backing for promotion and distribution, can empower artists who operate outside the mainstream. Streaming platforms can refine their algorithms to better highlight diverse and underrepresented music, ensuring that listeners are exposed to a broader range of offerings. Independent and local labels can and should be embraced and supported! Music fans can contribute to a healthy music ecosystem by supporting local labels! Our area has several independent labels such as Magnaphone Records, Poptek Recs, and Gas Daddy Go.

Supporting local record stores create physical and online spaces where music fans can expand their knowledge and experience of music. A simple solution is to go to these stores and support them. Talk to the staff who work there as they may have amazing recommendations for bands, artists and records that you may not know about yet. We recommend Omega Music, Blind Rage Records, Skeleton Dust Records, Toxic Beauty Records, Shake It Records, Everybody’s Records just to name some of the shops we regularly visit in our area.

Initiatives that celebrate musical diversity, such as festivals, awards, and curated playlists that explore songs beyond popular artists, can play a pivotal role in bringing attention to unheard records. Music enthusiasts can also contribute by actively seeking out and sharing lesser-known works, supporting local scenes, and engaging with a variety of genres to expand their musical horizons. In our city we have several incredible festivals such as Dayton Music Fest, Dayton Porchfest, Holidayton, Dayton Battle of The Bands, Showcase Thursdays at The Yellow Cab Tavern, Dayton Sideshow, and Winterfolk Dayton, again just scratching the surface of music events in the Gem City. Wherever you call home there are likely to be terrific music events where you can explore far more amazing music. Social media platforms and chat rooms where music fans respectfully share music that moves them is another source of information on unheard songs and albums.

The phenomenon of unheard records in the United States is a complex and multifaceted issue, shaped by the interplay of cultural, economic, and technological factors. This is not a concern that is easily resolved. But just because the challenge is difficult does not mean that it is impossible to address. As the music industry continues to evolve, addressing this challenge requires a collective effort from artists, industry stakeholders, and listeners alike. By fostering a culture that values diversity, embraces innovation, and supports independent voices, we can hope to unravel the symphony of unheard records and ensure that the full spectrum of musical creativity finds its audience. Take a chance and listen to something you do not know, it might be the next musical love of your life.

The Unbearable Weight of Silence: Navigating Grief in the Dayton Music Community

Dayton musician, Jay Madewell passed away unexpected on December 10, 2023 at the age of 51. Jay was not just a passionate music fan and avid record collector but a DJ, fantastic musician, and drummer who contributed to many musical projects in Dayton, Ohio. He had been active in the Dayton music community for well over 30 years where he encouraged many musicians to embark on their own sonic adventures and music-based journeys. His efforts in the legendary Dayton Dirt Collective, the Rock ‘n’ Roll Playdate as well as being an active and adventurous club DJ, hosting several themed nights such as the 1960s-focused Fab Gear, L’80s Night, and others. He was also considered to be the top wedding DJ for local musicians. Jay was involved in far more bands and music projects than can easily be listed here, but to list just a few — Real Lulu, Team Void, Power to the Peephole, Lexo & the Leapers, Dirty/Clean and GeeGee’s Punk Rock All Stars — are all evidence of a profound musical life.

A gathering of friends and family will be held at the Yellow Cab Tavern, 700 E. 4th St, Dayton, OH 45402 from 2-6 PM on Sunday, December 17, 2023 to share stores and memories of Jay.

When Team Void visited Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative, we got to know Jay a little. His enthusiasm, passion for music, amazing drumming, and wry sense of humor were on keen display. It was a pleasure to spend time with him. He had a fascinating charm, easy nature and also decidedly deadly wit, terrific sense of humor and provocative observational skill. Jay was kind and good natured without speaking down to others.

Music has incredible power to cut across the barriers we put up to protect ourselves, the distance of time, and the expanse of place, weaving itself into the fabric of our lives and becoming an integral part of our identity. Often it also becomes part of the experience and sense of a place, music becomes part of how we think about community. For music enthusiasts, the relationship with their favorite musicians goes beyond mere fandom; it is a deeply emotional and personal connection. Music fans wear t-shirts of a loved band or artists not simply to become walking billboards but to illustrate in obvious, perhaps unavoidable fashion, their association with a band, artist, record, tour… whatever connects them in some distant way to the music.

When a beloved musician passes away unexpectedly, the waves of grief that ripple through a community are profound, leaving a deep void that seems impossible to fill in the immediacy of the grief. The shockwave of loss feels personal as if one has lost a member of their family or a dear childhood friend and that feeling is real. It matters. The sudden death of a cherished musician sends a seismic shift through the hearts of friends, colleagues, fans, and others, creating a collective sense of disbelief and sorrow. Unlike other forms of loss, the death of a musician carries a unique weight. Music is the soundtrack to our lives, marking milestones, soothing sorrows, markers of accomplishments, and heightening joys. When a musician unexpectedly departs, it feels as though a part of our own narrative has been abruptly severed, leaving us grappling with an overwhelming sense of emptiness. The intimate connection to something profound and personally meaningful is severed; and that bond cannot be easily repaired or replaced.

Music is a deeply personal experience, often serving as a companion in times of solitude, celebration, sadness, or introspection. The lyrics and melodies of an artist become intertwined with the listener’s memories and emotions. Those who hear the music develop an intimate connection with the artist’s work, feeling as though the musician understands their innermost thoughts and feelings. The unexpected loss of this artistic confidant can be akin to losing a dear friend or mentor who understood without judgement how you feel. That cut is especially acute when the musician is in actuality a friend.

For many, music is more than a form of entertainment; it is a lifeline. The music we listen to is more than mere background noise to many of us, it is a soundtrack to life. Musicians have a unique ability to articulate the human experience, expressing emotions that listeners may struggle to put into words. When an artist passes away, the soundtrack to life is forever altered. The songs that once brought comfort, joy, or solace may now carry a bittersweet resonance, serving as a poignant reminder of an artist’s absence.

In the digital age, social media platforms serve as virtual gathering spaces for fans to collectively mourn the loss of a musician. Social media creates the space for mourning that ripples throughout networks close and those separated and far away. The outpouring of grief on platforms like Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook creates a sense of solidarity among fans, friends, and colleagues who share a deep connection to the artist’s work. Hashtags memorializing the musician trend whether locally or farther afield, amplifying the collective voice of mourning and allowing fans to express their grief in a public forum.

Fans often channel their grief into creating and sharing tributes that celebrate the life and legacy of the departed musician. From fan art and cover performances to heartfelt messages, photos and playlists, these tributes become a way for the community to collectively honor the artist’s impact on their lives. In this shared creative process, fans find solace and a sense of connection with others who are navigating the same turbulent seas of grief. These shared memories and tributes remind us that we are not alone.

The unexpected death of a musician shatters the illusion of immortality that often surrounds artists in the eyes of their fans, colleagues and the wider community. Music has the power to transcend time, and supporters may have envisioned their favorite musician continuing to create and evolve indefinitely. The sudden loss confronts us with the harsh reality of mortality, forcing all of us to grapple with the finite nature of life and fragility of art.

The music we love forms a crucial part of our identity, shaping our tastes, values, and even our sense of self. When a beloved musician dies unexpectedly, fans, friends, and colleagues may experience a profound identity crisis as they navigate a world where the artist’s voice and sound is forever silenced. The process of mourning becomes intertwined with a search for meaning and a reevaluation of one’s own identity without the guiding influence of the departed artist. Whether the contribution would be a song, a sound, a reassuring comment, or a silly joke — that source of comfort is no longer available. In those moments, a community turns to one another to find solidarity, hope and the needed comfort.

As with any form of loss, grieving the death of a beloved musician follows the familiar stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Navigating the stages of grief should not be considered a path to closure but rather a journey in establishing a sense of self and some grasp at understanding amongst the loss. The process is uniquely complex for members of a music community, as each stage is intertwined with the artist’s body of work, their influence on us and the fumbling efforts to come to some form of understanding. Denial may manifest as an unwillingness to accept that the musician will never create new music, while anger may be directed at the unfairness of a life cut short.

Bargaining takes on a unique form as members of a music community may replay “what if” scenarios in their minds, imagining alternative outcomes that would have allowed the musician to continue making music. Depression may settle in as fans grapple with the void left by the artist’s absence, and acceptance becomes a delicate dance between honoring the musician’s legacy and embracing the inevitability of their departure.

While the pain of loss is profound, the legacy of a beloved musician — at any level of experience — endures through their body of work, the contributions to a music community, and the creation of art. Colleagues, fans and friends often find solace in revisiting the artist’s discography, discovering nuances in the lyrics and melodies that take on new meaning in the context of personal and collective grief. The music becomes a bridge between the past and the present, allowing fans to maintain a connection with the artist even in their absence.

Music has always held a special and unique healing force in our lives. In the midst of grief, music has the power to serve as a healing force. Fans may find comfort in the familiar strains of a favorite song, using music as a therapeutic tool to navigate the tumultuous emotions associated with loss. Cover performances by fellow musicians, tribute concerts, sharing of photos, and posthumous releases become cathartic experiences, providing the music community with an opportunity to collectively mourn while celebrating the artist’s enduring impact. The love that they created remains with us if we can only find it and see it.

The death of a beloved musician does not mark the end of a relationship with the artist; rather, it transforms into an enduring bond that transcends a physical realm. Fans continue to carry the torch of the musician’s legacy, introducing their work to new generations and ensuring that the impact of their artistry is not forgotten. In this way, the community becomes the custodian of the artist’s memory, keeping the flame alive through shared stories, photos, traditions, and the perpetuation of the music itself.

The grief experienced by members of a music community when a beloved musician passes away unexpectedly is a complex and deeply personal journey. Music’s profound impact on our lives elevates the loss beyond the realm of simple fandom, creating a unique and enduring connection that transcends time. As music fans and supporters navigate the stages of grief, music becomes a source of solace, a bridge between the past and the present, and a recognition of artistic expression’s enduring power and beauty. While the pain of loss is undeniable, the legacy of a beloved musician lives on through the hearts and ears of those who continue to find comfort, inspiration, and connection in the melodies and lyrics that once emanated from the now-silent stage.

Embracing the Guilty Pleasure: Reo Speedwagon’s “Keep on Loving You”

In the vast and diverse landscape of musical tastes, there are certain songs that hold a special place in our hearts, even if we’re reluctant to admit it. Reo Speedwagon’s “Keep on Loving You” is one such track that falls into the category of guilty pleasures. Released in 1980 as part of their album “Hi Infidelity,” the song encapsulates the essence of 80s power ballads of an era that reveled in that style. Despite its sometimes cheesy lyrics and over-the-top production, there’s an undeniable charm to the song that draws listeners in and keeps them hooked.

Before delving into the guilty pleasure that is “Keep on Loving You,” it’s essential to understand Reo Speedwagon’s rise. Formed in 1967, the band went through several lineup changes before finding success in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Their breakthrough came with the release of “Hi Infidelity,” an album that not only topped the charts but also became a defining record of the rock and pop landscape of the early 1980s. The album’s title was an awkward play on both ‘hi fi’ and the fact that so many pop songs were about relationships.

At its core, “Keep on Loving You” is a quintessential power ballad, a genre that dominated the airwaves in the early 1980s. The song is characterized by its emotive lyrics, soaring melodies, and a dramatic build-up that culminates in a powerful chorus. Lead singer Kevin Cronin’s soulful delivery adds a layer of sincerity to the track, making it resonate with listeners on a personal level. We could ask is the song about a real relationship? Is it Cheesy or Heartfelt?

One of the reasons “Keep on Loving You” falls into the guilty pleasure category for us is its unabashedly romantic and, some might say, cheesy lyrics. Lines like “And I’m gonna keep on loving you / ‘Cause it’s the only thing I wanna do” may seem cliché, but there’s an earnestness in Cronin’s delivery that transcends the lyrics’ simplicity. The song captures the universal theme of love and devotion, striking a chord with listeners who appreciate unabashed sentimentality. The over the top delivery of an over the top line creates a resonance, unlike the detached above it all approach of so many artists and band’s of the 1970s and early 1980s, Reo Speedwagon’s exuberant embrace of the exaggeration only makes the song land with even more strength.

Another aspect that contributes to the guilty pleasure status of the song is its production. “Keep on Loving You” is drenched in the sonic aesthetics of the early 1980s, with its prominent use of synthesizers, piano, power chords, and a bombastic drum sound. Some may argue that the production is excessive, extreme and overblown… perhaps even dated, but for others, it’s a nostalgic trip back to a time when music was unapologetically flashy and theatrical. The immoderate nature of the song is part of its charm, it is not subtle.

The term “guilty pleasure” often implies a sense of shame or embarrassment associated with enjoying something that may be considered outside one’s usual tastes. In the case of “Keep on Loving You,” the guilt may stem from a perceived lack of sophistication in its musical elements or a fear of judgment from those who favor more critically acclaimed genres. But we wonder why someone should feel the need to explain away the eye rolls and judgement of others. Embrace the love you feel for a song with a sly chagrin and acceptance, you love the song… even if it is not beloved by others. No one should ever have to justify the music that speaks to them.

However, guilt in this context is subjective, and embracing a guilty pleasure can be a liberating experience. In a world that often demands adherence to certain musical standards, allowing oneself to enjoy a song like “Keep on Loving You” becomes a rebellious act — a rejection of musical elitism in favor of personal enjoyment, you love the song even if others do not.

Part of the allure of guilty pleasures lies in the power of nostalgia. For those who grew up in the late 1970s and 1980s, “Keep on Loving You” serves as a time capsule, transporting them back to a period of big hair, neon lights, and cassette tapes. The song becomes a soundtrack to memories and experiences, making it more than just a musical indulgence, it is a faithless trip to the past.

In the realm of guilty pleasures, Reo Speedwagon’s “Keep on Loving You” stands as a testament to the enduring appeal of power ballads and the emotional resonance of nostalgic music. Whether it’s the cheesy lyrics, the bombastic production, or the unabashed romanticism, the song has earned its place in the hearts of many as a guilty pleasure worth celebrating. So, let go of the guilt, turn up the volume, and let the soaring melodies and heartfelt lyrics of Reo Speedwagon take you on a journey to a time when music was unapologetically loud, direct and bold.

Moving is awful and other Non-delights

Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative is still on hiatus as we move from ArtStreet to the Roger Glass Performing Arts Center. Let’s be honest, moving sucks. It is simply awful. Moving is often considered one of life’s most daunting tasks, a process laden with stress, exhaustion, and emotional upheaval. The mere thought of packing up one’s life — or in this case an entire radio station — and relocating to a new place can send shivers down the spine of even the most resilient among us. Several factors contribute to the universally acknowledged sentiment that moving is an awful experience.

Firstly, the physical exertion involved in moving is undeniable. From the moment one begins to sift through CDs, vinyl records, and cassettes (yup, we have some of those), rolling up posters, and packing away fragile equipment so it can safely be moved is daunting. It does not feel unlike going through belongings, deciding what to keep and what to discard, to the arduous task of packing fragile items with the utmost care, the process demands a considerable amount of physical energy. Lifting heavy boxes (damn, these records are heavy!), navigating through narrow hallways (you have seen the pictures of the station), and loading and unloading furniture can take a toll on the body, leaving movers fatigued and drained. And remember all of the equipment is incredibly sensitive and expensive! “Do not drop anything!” is a repeated refrain.

Moreover, the emotional toll of moving cannot be overstated. Leaving behind familiar surroundings, our Artstreet friends, and changing the routines can evoke a profound sense of loss and nostalgia. The attachment to a place goes beyond the physical structure of a house; it encompasses memories, experiences, and a sense of belonging. Saying goodbye to all of this can be emotionally wrenching, leading to a mix of sadness, anxiety, and apprehension about the unknown that lies ahead for the station. I wrote about this and stand behind those ideas and memories. Leaving a space that was home for over 20 years is simply not easy.

The logistical challenges add another layer of complexity to the moving process. Coordinating timelines, arranging transportation, and dealing with unforeseen hiccups can turn a seemingly straightforward relocation into a logistical nightmare. The pressure to ensure that every item arrives intact at the new station destination in a brand new building, coupled with the need to settle into an unfamiliar environment quickly, amplifies the stress associated with moving. Of course, we want to be preparing a radio show today instead of moving an incredibly sensitive studio board!

Sure, moving is an inherently challenging and unpleasant experience due to the physical, emotional, and logistical demands it places on us. The disruption of established routines, the strain on relationships, and the overall upheaval of one’s life make moving a universally dreaded endeavor. We can’t even listen to the station unless we set up a laptop or bring in a radio because studio speakers were among the first to get disconnected. While it may signify a new beginning and the prospect of fresh opportunities, the process itself is undoubtedly an arduous journey that tests one’s resilience, adaptability, and good nature.

Perhaps this is just a long meandering path to say, YTAA will not be on this week. Moving is going forward and we are making progress, just a bit slower than any of us would like. We will be back broadcasting the show as soon as possible. Automation has taken over the radio station and during December we are broadcasting indie holiday music! Enjoy and see you real soon!

The Unconventional Jingle: Exploring the Charms of Indie Rock Holiday Songs

The holiday season is traditionally accompanied by the familiar sounds of sleigh bells, cheerful choirs, and iconic tunes from well-established artists. However, for those with an inclination towards alternative and independent music, the indie rock genre offers a refreshing twist to the festive soundtrack. On November 21st, Tom Gilliam and I celebrated our 13th annual YTAA Indie Holiday show. We played music from Dolph Chaney, The Popravinas, The Ramones, The Pogues, Darling West, Heather Redman, Fitz and The Tantrums, My Morning Jacket, Van Plating, Olivia Frances, The Surfajettes, Best Coast, Trey Stone and The Ringers, Calexico, Librarians with Hickeys, Debra Devi, Fountains of Wayne, The Decemberists, Joey Ramone, Bad Religion, Heartless Bastards, The Killers, and Dayton’s own Escape Velocity among others over three hours. I wanted to publicly thank Tom Gilliam of the excellent Dayton-based band Ghost Town Silence, for doing this special show with me for over a decade. I wondered what is it about independent music that allows for the creation of exciting new holiday music. So, if you will indulge me as we enter the holiday season, I will delve into the world of indie rock holiday songs, exploring the charm and uniqueness they bring to the season.

Taking a break from tradition can be a healthy and positive experience. Indie rock holiday songs provide a welcome departure from the conventional jingles and carols that dominate the airwaves during the festive season. Unlike the predictability of traditional holiday music, indie rock artists infuse their creativity into the lyrics and melodies, offering a fresh and sometimes irreverent take on the holiday spirit. The departure from traditional sounds allows listeners to experience the season with a new perspective, embracing the diversity that indie rock brings to the table.

One of the hallmarks of indie rock is its ability to convey complex emotions through music, expressing complex emotions — that special sense of being hit “in the feels” can be a moment of self-reflection. While traditional holiday songs often focus on joy and celebration, indie rock holiday tunes explore a broader spectrum of feelings associated with the season. From the melancholic reflections on solitude during the holidays to the bittersweet nostalgia of past celebrations, indie rock captures the multifaceted nature of the holiday experience. Artists like Sufjan Stevens, The Shins, Debra Devi, and Heartless Bastards weave intricate narratives that resonate with those who may find the holiday season to be a mix of joy and introspection. The Decemberists’ reinterpretation of Big Star’s Jesus Christ, from their album 3rd released in 1974, illustrates this approach quite clearly. The band’s official video incorporates the idea of a Yule Log experience into the music video.

Indie rock holiday songs showcase a range of perspectives on the holidays, reflecting the diversity of experiences within the indie rock community. One of the great aspects of alternative and independent music is the opening to diverse perspectives on the holidays. These songs often touch upon themes like non-traditional celebrations, unconventional family dynamics, and the challenges of navigating societal expectations during the festive season. The narratives presented in indie rock holiday songs provide a sense of relatability for listeners who may not find their own experiences mirrored in more mainstream holiday music. The 2016 original holiday song, “I Feel It In My Bones” from The Killers’ alternative holiday album “Don’t Waste Your Wishes” takes a dark, almost sinister interpretation of Santa Claus.

Indie rock, by its very nature, is a genre that thrives on experimentation and innovation. The best characteristic of an independent song is the surprise you discover when you hear it. Dolph Chaney’s excellent “Jingle Bells” set to Van Halen’s “Panama” is a complete surprise as well as a delight! Big Stir Records has released several fantastic indie holiday songs as part of their Yuletide Wave. When applied to holiday music, the willingness to explore and recreate results in a rich tapestry of unique soundscapes in which to capture the seasonal vibe. From the indie alt-country and folk-infused sounds of Trey Stones and The Ringers’ “Santa, Please Bring Me a Guitar” to the rock and roll vibes of The Ramones “Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want to Fight Tonight),” these songs reimagine the sonic landscape of the holidays. The infusion of indie rock elements into holiday music introduces listeners to a sonic experience that goes beyond the traditional, breathing new life into the seasonal soundscape.

Indie rock holiday songs offer a delightful departure from the familiar tunes that dominate the airwaves during the festive season. By expressing complex emotions, presenting diverse perspectives, and exploring unique soundscapes, indie rock artists contribute a distinct flavor to the holiday music repertoire. The unconventional jingles and alternative carols provide an avenue for listeners to connect with the holiday spirit in ways that resonate with the ever-evolving nature of contemporary music. So, this holiday season, consider expanding your playlist to include indie rock gems that bring a touch of creativity and innovation to the festive sounds we hear this time of year.

Swaying in the Radio Waves

In a dimly lit space of my basement home studio, surrounded by an array of vinyl records, cassette tapes along a small wall, stacks of vintage vinyl 45s, piles of CDs, and an eclectic mix of posters from local and underground shows, I sit hunched over a laptop, ready to embark on music discovery. With a cat on my lap and another nearby, I listen to new songs, local music, and pieces of someone’s heart that they have kindly shared with Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative. This is my sanctuary, the cockpit from which I navigate a vast sea of independent music. As an indie music radio DJ, I’ve made it my mission to curate and broadcast tunes that I believe in, music that resonates beyond the mainstream. There is no shame in loving the music that speaks to you, mainstream or not. But I want to find something new, something unique. Perhaps it is an overwhelming sense of fear of missing out on something incredible, something wonderful that was released and far too few have heard it. Providing a conduit for the amazing music that has gone overlooked has kept me interested in radio for over 19 years at WUDR and for many years prior.

My love affair with indie music began in the smoky corners of obscure spaces, crowded clubs, and hidden venues in Minneapolis in the 1980s. And that interest was heightened in 1983 when I joined KUMM Student Radio at the University of Minnesota at Morris. I had chosen a college a few hours away from home, Herman, Minnesota population 550. My graduation class only had 25 students in it. I was not sure what I wanted to become when I went to college, but I knew one thing quite clearly — I wanted to leave the confines of small-town Minnesota life. The albums that my classmates loved were not my music, they did not feel real and authentic to me. The music that I heard on the few radio stations — mostly country music — did not speak to me nearly as much as the obscure bands and music that I found on late-night TV shows or magazines like The Trouser Press, Cream, and Crawdaddy.

I had a few musically progressive friends and a cousin who was like a brother to me who broadened my music experience. I was exposed to so many unique bands and records by cool friends who introduced me to bands like The Ramones, Big Star, Alice Cooper, R.E.M., early KISS records, The Replacements, The Suburbs, Loud Fast Rules (who later changed their name to Soul Asylum), and Prince. I am still prepared to argue that his first three records were and are brilliant records that fused soul, funk, R&B, pop, and punk. While I enjoyed the British New Wave of Gary Numan and the Romance Wave of Roxy Music, it was Duran Duran who led me to Joy Division, Adam and The Ants, Spandau Ballet, and The Cure. From ‘Planet Earth’ and ‘Girls on Film,’ I found ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart,’ ‘Transmission,’ ‘Ant Music,’ ‘True’ and ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ — I then spent years over Robert Smith’s catalog. I was captivated one late night when David Bowie’s music video for Ashes to Ashes played on some obscure program. It was life-changing and led me to seek out music from Ziggy Stardust in all of his personas and identities.

While others were getting lost in the polished melodies of chart-toppers, I found solace in the raw, unfiltered sounds of independent artists. It wasn’t just about the music; it was about the stories told through the lyrics, the rebellion against conformity, and the genuine passion that fueled every chord, every snap of the drum, every note that was delivered with passion. These sounds and bands were authentic and real to me. I read a story in a music magazine — Melody Maker, New Music Express, Smash Hits… to be completely honest I do not remember — about a band named after a plane, U2, and that eventually led me to their first album ‘Boy’ and that again, led me to be changed. Now, to be fair I was listening to a seriously concerning amount of Pink Floyd, Nick Drake, Television, and Patti Smith. The gateway of The Ramones led to The Sex Pistols, The Clash, Blondie (especially those early records), and more. While I did enjoy some truly strange fascination for some rock and pop groups, I had records and the usual posters on my bedroom walls of Scandal, Rick Springfield, Journey, Styx, Hall & Oates, and a brief fling with The Eagles’ Hotel California and Long Run (that led me to The Flying Burrito Brothers and Graham Parsons — thanks for sharing your records, mom!).

When I got to college, I decided to take this passion to the airwaves, embracing the role of a sonic designer. Armed with a microphone and a collection of gems that I could not wait to share, I set out to carve a niche for myself in the crowded world of radio, one that would champion the unheard and challenge the established norms. It helped tremendously that bands like R.E.M., U2, Ministry, Depeche Mode, Red Rockers, The Cure, and far more than I have the time (or you dear reader – the interest in reading) to recount here were releasing amazing records in the 1980s. The time period of 1983 to 1988 was not only my college years but an amazingly fertile time for what became known as College Rock then was labeled as Alternative or Post-Punk.

It has not always been easy trying to build bridges with the unknown for me. Being an indie music DJ is more than just spinning records or pushing play or fading sounds in and out; it’s about building bridges between artists and listeners. In a world saturated with predictable playlists, my goal is to be a conduit for the undiscovered. I sift through submissions from garage bands in Brooklyn to folk troubadours in the Pacific Northwest, searching for that spark of authenticity that sets them apart. We have a policy at YTAA, anything shared with us gets a listen. And in those perfect moments when we want to hear a song again, that captures our attention when there are so many records to preview, there is magic in the sound waves.

It’s not always about polished production or catchy hooks; it’s about the genuine emotion that reverberates through the music. Each song is a unique brushstroke on the canvas of the YTAA show, painting a sonic landscape that moves beyond the conventional. The thrill of introducing listeners to a hidden beauty, the adrenaline of playing a track that might just become someone’s favorite song – that’s the heartbeat of our radio station. I cannot express how much joy is experienced when someone requests a song we have played or calls the station to ask who was that amazing musician or band that they heard.

In the sprawling landscape of commercial radio, where playlists are often dictated by corporate interests or worse an inhumane algorithm, maintaining independence is a dance on a tightrope. Yet, this dance is the very essence of the existence of Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative and my role as a DJ. There’s a certain liberation in knowing that a YTAA playlist is not dictated by market trends or corporate interests. Sometimes it is an accident of happenstance or from a connection on social media. Whatever the reason, it’s a rebellion against the formulaic, an assertion that there’s value in the unconventional, the unknown, the liminal. I would like to believe that we have built a community of listeners who crave the unexplored, and who trust this program to guide them through sonic places and spaces of undiscovered music.

Behind every track played lies a story – the struggle of an indie artist trying to be heard, the triumphs and tribulations of navigating an industry that often favors the polished over the genuine. It’s not just about the music; it’s about the people who create it. It is a privilege to interview artists whose stories are as compelling as their melodies. From the indie folk singer who busked on street corners to fund her first album to the punk rock trio that converted an abandoned warehouse into a recording studio, each narrative adds depth to the sonic tapestry we weave on the airwaves. These stories resonate with our listeners, connecting them to the music in ways that transcend the superficial. These are real experiences told by real people about the authentic music they have made to present some feelings, emotions, and ideas — the search for solidarity and connection through music is important and it should be protected at all costs.

One of the joys of indie radio is the freedom to be unpredictable. While commercial stations follow rigid playlists curated by algorithms, YTAA revels in the spontaneity of crafting a playlist that mirrors the ebb and flow of emotions. From ethereal dream pop to gritty pop-punk anthems, the playlist is a rollercoaster ride that keeps listeners on the edge of their seats wondering what is coming up next. One of the most exciting experiences in music is when we are surprised.

On YTAA we are not afraid to delve into uncharted territories, juxtaposing genres in a way that challenges preconceived notions. A haunting acoustic ballad might be followed by a raucous electronic track, or a looking-back indie classic creating a musical journey that mirrors the unpredictability of life itself. It’s a sonic adventure that invites listeners to step outside their comfort zones and embrace the diversity of the indie music landscape.

As an indie music DJ, my connection with the audience goes beyond the confines of the radio waves. Social media has become a virtual extension of the studio, a platform where listeners can engage in real-time discussions about the music they love. We endeavor to play as many requests that we receive as possible. Sometimes a request can take the show in a different, unplanned direction, and isn’t that an opportunity? The sense of community that has emerged is a testament to the power of indie music to unite diverse souls under a common sonic umbrella. It has been a rare honor to connect with other music fans on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and on this page. From virtual album listening parties to live Q&A sessions with artists, the digital realm has allowed us to amplify the sense of camaraderie that defines the indie music scene. It’s not just about broadcasting music; it’s about fostering a community where passion for the unconventional is celebrated.

Navigating the indie wilderness is not without its challenges. Limited resources, the constant struggle for visibility, and the ever-present threat of obscurity are hurdles that indie artists face daily. As a DJ, I’ve witnessed the frustration of talented musicians grappling with a system that often seems designed to favor the established. Yet, it’s precisely these challenges that fuel the fire of the indie spirit. The tenacity of artists who refuse to be silenced, and the resilience of a community that thrives on the fringes – these are the stories that inspire me to keep pushing boundaries and championing the cause of the independent. It is possible that the unknown music can be even more captivating than the known.

As I peer into the future of my journey as an indie music DJ, the horizon is both exciting and uncertain. The music industry is in a state of constant flux, with new platforms and technologies reshaping how people find music. Yet, one thing remains constant – the hunger for authenticity, the craving for sounds that defy the cookie-cutter formulas of mainstream music. I envision a future where indie music continues to be a beacon of diversity and creativity. Whether through virtual concert experiences or immersive audio storytelling, the indie spirit will find new avenues to flourish. My role as a sonic guide will evolve, adapting to the changing currents of technology while staying true to the essence of independent expression. Maybe in some way, I am still the same person who knew that there was exciting and cool music waiting to be discovered, the only question was how to find it. Perhaps now the problem is how to find that music in an oversaturated culture of the moment; the internet is both friend and foe.

In the closing moments of every radio show, as the last notes of an indie anthem fade into the ether, I reflect on the journey that brought me to this point. From the dimly lit venues of my youth to the expansive world of radio waves, it’s been a ride fueled by passion, rebellion, and an unwavering belief in the power of independent music. In the vast sea of sonic possibilities, I continue to navigate the waves, a lone captain on a ship of indie music treasures. As long as there are artists pushing boundaries, as long as there are listeners hungry for the unconventional, the journey will endure. For in the realm of indie music, every note is a declaration of independence, and every DJ is a storyteller weaving tales of sonic rebellion. Now, let’s go listen to some interesting music we have not heard before.

All station photos by Tom Gilliam Photography. Photos used with permission.

Resonance in Sound: 22 Years of Echoes at Artstreet

Normally, I am busy preparing for a radio show on Tuesday afternoons. Busy typing song titles into a computer that feels both like a friend and a reluctant companion. This Tuesday however, I am not doing any of that prep work because the radio station is preparing to move to its new home.

In the heart of the University of Dayton campus, nestled among the hustle and bustle, there exists a sanctuary that transcends the usual boundaries and divisions that we make for ourselves every day. For 22 years, a humble student-run radio station has occupied the same space, etching its mark on the airwaves and the souls of those who have tuned in whether they be students at the University of Dayton or community members looking for something captivating on the airwaves. In 2001, WUDR moved from cramped quarters in Kennedy Union to the then newly opened Artstreet complex creating a harmonious resonance that defies the transience of our ever-evolving world. The Artstreet experiment was untested on campus. It was a living, learning, creative space that playfully yet intentionally used architecture, design, and flexible classroom spaces to encourage applied creativity. WUDR Flyer Radio and Street Sounds Recording Studio shared the end of one of the buildings next to an open amphitheater for outdoor events. Before the radio station added online broadcasting, this came a few years later, the station provided a space for those with a passion for radio broadcasting, indie music enthusiasts, and students applying what they were learning in classes to come together toward a common goal of making radio shows.

While I was not a student for quite some time, I have long explored the role of a radio DJ. After receiving a positive tenure decision from the University of Dayton, I balanced my teaching, writing, and administrative obligations with a hunger to do radio again. For 19 years I tried to passionately advocate for local music balanced with an interest in new music and the development and evolution of indie and alternative music. For almost two decades that interest has animated Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative. I wrote a personal essay about my sense of doing radio in September.

As I prepare to leave the studio that I have called my second office for 19 years, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. The worn-out carpet beneath my feet bears witness to the countless footsteps of other DJs — student and faculty — that have trodden this path before, each imprint telling a story of passion, dedication, and an unwavering commitment to the art of sound at WUDR. The walls, once adorned with posters of Dayton bands, amazing local shows, a few legendary musicians, and faded memories, seem to whisper tales of late-night broadcasts, whispered confessions, and the transformative power of music.

In an era where change is the only constant, the endurance of this student-run radio station becomes an anthem of constancy, a lighthouse guiding lost ships through the stormy seas of life. The comforting hum of the equipment, the familiar creaks in the chairs, the colors of the ENCO systems alongside the soft glow of the control panel all bear witness to the enduring spirit of a station that has weathered the storms of technological upheaval and the fickle tastes of an ever-evolving audience. The dim light and just barely audible hum of a computer to my right that sends the radio signal to the web is a constant companion.

It’s not just a radio station; it’s a time capsule, preserving the essence of an era long past while evolving with the pulse of the present. The student DJs who have graced this sacred space have become custodians of emotions, weaving the soundtrack of our lives through the carefully selected notes and melodies that have graced the airwaves for over two decades in this space (and over fifty years in total).

The connection between the station and its listeners is not merely a broadcast; it’s an intimate conversation that transcends the limits of physical space. You cannot see the people who are listening. The voices that have resonated through these speakers have been companions during late-night drives, all night cramming before a big test, solace during moments of solitude, and the soundtrack to celebrations and heartbreaks alike. The station has become a confidant, a friend, and a silent witness to the ebbs and flows of our collective experience on and off campus.

As the world around us races forward, this radio station through the various slogans and themes over the years — “rock in the gem city,” “music in all directions,” and “support your local music scene” — remains a constant, a testament to the enduring power of music to bind us across time and space. We come together even though we cannot see each other in that moment when a great song plays. It’s a reminder that, in the transient nature of life, some things are built to last. The 22 years encapsulated in these walls are not just a marker of time but a celebration of the resilience of the human spirit to create, connect, and find solace in the embrace of familiar melodies. Songs mean something beyond the notes, chords, voices… as they remind us what we feel.

In a society that often values the shiny and new, this radio station serves as a poignant reminder that there is beauty in the worn and weathered, in the stories etched into every scuff and scratch. It’s a living testament to the belief that, sometimes, the most profound expressions of art and emotion arise not from the pursuit of the novel but from the nurturing of what already exists.

Live, intimate performances in a radio station hold a profound significance in the realm of music and broadcasting. Unlike large concerts in arenas or stadiums, these intimate sessions offer a unique and up-close experience for both the artist, the DJ, and the audience. The confined space of a radio station creates an atmosphere that fosters a sense of connection, an all too quickly fleeting and personal bond allowing the artist’s emotions and musical nuances to be experienced with unparalleled intimacy. And I have been unbelievably fortunate to have so many guests in the studio.

From the audience’s perspective, the intimacy of a radio station performance offers a rare chance to witness their favorite musicians in an unfiltered setting. It forges a more profound bond between the listener and the artist, creating an environment where the nuances of the performance are not lost in the vastness of a large venue. Live, intimate performances on a radio station bring artists and audiences together in a way that transcends the traditional concert experience. They celebrate the essence of music, fostering a connection that resonates on a deeper level, making these performances invaluable in the rich tapestry of musical expression.

From Thrasher Cadillac to Ghost Town Silence’s Tom Gilliam, who joined me for our annual YTAA Indie Holiday program, several artists in Dayton, the region, and national touring acts have shared their music with our listeners. Incredible songwriter and musician Charlie Jackson made his very first radio interview and performance in the WUDR studio space at Artstreet. Remember his name, a songwriter with that much talent and lyrical richness is perfectly made for a large, national audience. There is not enough patience to list all of the musical acts who have shared their time and music with us but let’s try that perseverance just a touch: The New Old Fashioned, Amber Hargett, Oh Condor, Cricketbows, Brainiac, Age Nowhere, Smug Brothers, The 1984 Draft, K.Carter, Kris N., XL427, Team Void, Matt Moran, Librarians With Hickeys, Rossonian, Bottlecap Mountain, Renaissance, Serin Oh, Motel Faces, Avalon Park, Josh Thrasher, Nicholas Johnson, Nate Peters, Me & Mountains, David Payne, Mike Bankhead, Harold Hensley, Neo American Pioneers, Zack Sliver, Nasty Bingo, Khyrs Blank, The Boxcar Suite, Brian Wells, Trees and Wells, Jennifer Taylor, Sharon A. Lane, Scary Hotel, Jetty Bones, Heather Redman, Sadbox, The Nautical Theme, Tod Weidner, Ike B., Max B. Greene, Tim Gebard, Manray, Mandy Jewel, The Typical Johnsons, Ricky Terrell, Kevin Serey, Windsor Knotts, Kyle Byrum, Dave Zup, Bill Wendell, Paul Monin, Seth Canan and The Carriers, Don Thrasher, Dead Licks, Sam King, Far From Eden, Andrew Hunt, The Paint Splats, Emory Road, Achilles Tenderloin, Curse of Cassandra, Rich Reuter, Nick Kizirnis, Kyleen Downes, Goodnight Goodnight, Charles Hartman, Kurt Lee Wheeler (who traveled from Georgia to be on our show that day), Lisa Gain & The Rusty Silos, Mack McKenzie, Steve Shockley of the Original Lakeside, and so many more. Still here? That is far from a complete list because those are just some of the artists who were in the studio. The magic of the phone call-in provided for so many more artists to share their gifts with all of us.

For the artist, performing live on a radio station provides an opportunity to showcase raw talent and authenticity. Stripped of elaborate productions, the focus shifts to the purity of the music and the artist’s ability to connect with the audience on a personal level. It becomes a platform for artists to experiment, improvise, and unveil new dimensions of their creativity.

As I exit the studio, the faint strains of a timeless song linger in the air, I play The New Old Fashioned – Radio Waves. It is fitting. As David Payne sings, I carry with me the echoes of my 19 years in my second office, resonating not only in the frequencies of the music but in the very fabric of my being. This radio station is more than a collection of songs; it’s a living, breathing entity, a guardian of memories, and a symbol of the enduring power of music to transcend the limitations of time and space. It was home.

WUDR will move to its new space in the Roger Glass Center for the Arts over the next several weeks. We will set up shop in an exciting new space that was specifically designed with the station and student media in mind, but we carry with us the incredible music experiences, history, and warm embrace of a building that was the radio station’s home for 22 years. Here’s to many more.

11 Questions with… Greg Humphreys

In American music, there are artists whose regional roots run deep, intertwining with the cultural fabric of their home state. Greg Humphreys, the charismatic frontman of Dillon Fence, has spent decades carving out a musical niche that echoes the soulful resonance of North Carolina. His solo endeavors, marked by a fusion of rock, blues, jazz, and Americana, showcase a maturity that comes from a life dedicated to the pursuit of authentic sound.

Humphreys’ musical journey began in the late ’80s with the formation of Dillon Fence, a Chapel Hill-based alternative rock band that became synonymous with the burgeoning music scene in North Carolina. The band’s sound, characterized by jangly guitars, introspective lyrics, and Humphreys’ powerful, soulful emotive vocals, contributed to the distinctive Southern sound emerging from that fertile music community that also gave rise to The Connells, The Veldt, Fetchin’ Bones, Superchunk, Let’s Active and The dBs.

Fast forward to the present, and Humphreys has embarked on a solo career that demonstrates both evolution and continuity. His 2021 release, “Spanish Steps,” stands as a testament to his ability to navigate diverse musical waters while maintaining a distinct Southern sensibility. His most recent single, “Take a Trip (Catch a Plane)” crosses soul, ’70s pop, jazz, and smooth strands of rock and roll. Humphreys’ voice, weathered by years of musical exploration but never beaten down, lends a richness that serves as the perfect vehicle for the emotional weight carried by his lyrics. The song weaves a narrative that touches on love, loss, and the inexorable pull of life’s forces, creating a compelling experience.

Humphreys skillfully blends genres, drawing from the deep well of American musical traditions. He is equally comfortable channeling a rootsy, folk vibe with acoustic guitars or when creating a sonic laid-back atmosphere. He is also just as skillful when letting everything hang out in a full-blown rock song. Humphreys’ ability to seamlessly integrate elements of the South’s musical heritage into a contemporary framework is one reason out of the many characteristics of his songs that make them feel like lifelong friends.

Whether one is listening to Greg’s solo work or his efforts in Dillon Fence and Hobex, the songs he makes allow him to flex his songwriting muscles, delivering introspective lyrics with a raw vulnerability that resonates with listeners. “Take a Trip (Catch a Plane)” stands out as a poignant exploration of the complexities of life and the enduring power of hope, driven by Humphreys’ soulful crooning and the subtle, never forced, instrumentation that accompanies it. Humphreys’ guitar work, a hallmark of his style, shines throughout the tune, demonstrating both technical proficiency and an intuitive understanding of the emotional nuances embedded in his compositions.

In a musical landscape often dominated by trends, the passing ‘sound of the moment’, and fleeting fads, Greg Humphreys stands as a beacon of authenticity, his music is tangibly real… it resonates. Greg’s music not only pays tribute to the distinctive musical heritage of North Carolina but also adds another chapter to Humphreys’ ongoing exploration of sound and emotion. His most recent music invites listeners to journey through the landscapes of the South, guided by a seasoned troubadour whose passion for music burns as passionately and brightly as ever.

Dr. J: What can you share with us about when and how you started writing music?

I started writing songs in high school. My high school garage band “The Trash” decided to start playing our original music… our members would bring songs in to try. My early songs make me wince a bit, but you have to start somewhere. Dillon Fence bass player (and fellow The Trash member) Chris Goode and I will often sing a line or two from these old songs for a few chuckles. 

I have to say, my basic appreciation and understanding of songcraft came from my dad. He was always listening to his favorite songs learning them and playing them on his guitar in his spare time.

I also think that my strong desire/need to create, expressed through art and music, comes from my mom. She’s been a visual artist for as long as I can remember and has had some different, interesting periods to her artistic expression.

Dr. J: What first led to your recording music? How do you approach production? 

I started recording on a boombox, then a couple of boomboxes. I remember re-creating the harmony solos on Boston’s “Peace of Mind” with two boom boxes in High School. 

After a couple years of this, my parents helped me get a Fostex 4 track recorder, which was my constant companion until I started learning ProTools / DAW recording in the late 90s. I have boxes and boxes of songs and music ideas I recorded in the 90s on that 4 track.

Of course, I learned a lot from the professional engineers and producers I worked with early on when making records with Dillon Fence and Hobex: Steve Gronback, John Plymale, Lou Giordano, Ron St. Germain, Mark Williams, David Leonard. I’ve also been lucky to sit in/take part in sessions with pros like John Wood, Joe Boyd, Al Kooper, Bill Symczyk, Chris Stamey, Mitch Easter, Don Dixon, and Jim Dickinson. 

As far as my production approach, I think my main attitude is, that there’s no “correct” way to do things. All that really matters is do you have an end result that is compelling and/or worthy of listening to over and over. If budget was no issue, I’d probably do a more collaborative recording with other musicians/engineers/studios, but I do enjoy making records on my own. 

I try to keep in mind that some of my favorite records were made with some of the most basic recording technology. I believe that what is going on in front of the mic is usually the most important factor in recording most musicians or singers. 

Dr. J: ‘Take a Trip (Catch a Plane)’ is your most recent music, what led to the making of that song? What were the main influences on your recording of this song? 

I talked about it at length in my bio over greghumphreys.net if you’d like to pull from that/peruse that. but essentially it’s a song I wrote for my wife kind of trying to express one of those feelings that’s personal yet universal. Hopefully, the song has the same quality.

Dr. J: The song Take a Trip (Catch a Plane)’ seems to capture a remarkable constellation of musical influences. The song seems to have a 1970s soul feel. Is that a correct interpretation? If that is correct, did you intend to create a song that connects to that style? If that is not correct, how would you describe the feeling of the song?

The rhythm section definitely has a ’70s soul vibe – Marvin Gaye records are always a North Star for me. I played bass guitar on this track, which is also a lot of fun and something I haven’t been doing on my trio records. This track is basically a taste of an approach I’ve been taking. Using drum machine sounds to create grooves. Building songs around a melody, groove, or musical idea using a looper. Then, building the arrangement over time either in live performance or in the studio.

 It’s not really that different from a songwriting approach I’ve used for bands I’ve fronted over the years. It’s just that I am able to create more of a “keeper” version on my own these days.

Dr. J: How did the song Take a Trip (Catch a Plane)’ come together musically for you?

The song really started from being inspired by a moment in a George Shearing “Lullaby of Birdland” recording where the musicians play the melody (Jazz terminology would be “the head”) together. I wanted to use that vibraphone sound, and I wrote a melody that is vaguely reminiscent of the Shearing tune – not as harmonically sophisticated, but still good. After that, I just followed my instincts to complete the song.

Dr. J: Where do you often derive inspiration to make music?

Looking back on my songwriting path, I’d say my main wellspring of music-making has been expressing myself – getting out all those feelings I have difficulty manifesting any other way. The confessional songwriting thing has definitely been a big part of who I am as a writer. That being said, I like switching it up and trying different approaches, and that shows up in my songs as well.

Dr. J: How would you describe the music that you create? How has that process evolved or changed over time (especially as you think about your journey in the last few years)?

I feel like in the back of my mind I’m always trying to create something that is timeless and universal. The quality that a great piece of music or song has – if you take it out of its cultural context, does it still resonate? I think that’s why I enjoy going down the wormhole with music from different eras or time periods and finding songs that grab me.

Dr. J: What is next for you musically? How would you describe your thoughts at this point for your next project or release?

I am close to the finish line on a couple of recording projects. One is a Dillon Fence live album that we recorded in April 2023. I think it captures the energy of the band in a good way and I’m looking forward to sharing it with our fans. I am proud of that catalog of music. 

The second is another solo album in the same fashion as my 2021 album “Spanish Steps,” using a lot of the approaches and techniques I mentioned earlier. “Take a Trip (Catch a Plane)” will be included on this album, as well as some other songs I’ve been writing over the last 3-4 years. I find that these days with my family life taking precedence I’m not nearly as prolific as I used to be. The songs that I do complete tend to be real “keepers” – songs that I keep coming back to over time. 

Dr. J: What is your favorite song to perform live? What is your favorite song to perform in general? What makes that song a current favorite in your performances? 

I think the song that I usually enjoy performing live most is usually my most recent song that I really believe in – the song that fits that category lately is called “Fall into the Sea.” That being said, I’ve gotta give props to a song I co-wrote with my old friend Jim Smith, “Windows,” which was originally on the Hobex LP “Back in the 90s.” I still play that song in almost every show. It just works, it connects, it makes people happy, and that makes me happy. 

Dr. J: What is one message you would hope that listeners find in Take a Trip (Catch a Plane)’?

Hopefully, they’ll find inspiration to renew their love for their significant other. That’s what it’s really about. The ‘Take a trip’ part is just an impetus to do that.

Dr. J: As a musician, how are you adapting to the challenges of creating music? What are your biggest challenges in creating music? 

That’s a big question. Honestly, I don’t really know which way to go. The sheer volume of music produced these days and the torrential nature of media consumption are obviously on my mind, as far as what is ahead. I consider myself lucky I have an (admittedly boutique) audience that still comes to see me play and listen to my music online, but obviously, the Internet disruption is real and it has affected my life. It has always been a rollercoaster ride and a struggle to pursue a creative life, though. 

I think my biggest challenge is managing the balance between my family life and my desire to pursue my art and music. There’s just not enough time in the day to do what I’d like to do. Once I have the time, I’m often too tired to do it! 

We want to extend our sincere gratitude to Greg Humphreys for answering our questions and continuing to make some really excellent music! Click on the links throughout the article to visit his social media or to listen to various songs that were discussed! If any musicians or artists would like to participate in future ’11 Questions with…’ columns, please feel free to email us at drjytaa@gmail.com. All photos and images courtesy of Greg Humphreys.

Facebook Youtube Bandcamp Take a Trip (Catch a Plane) Website Twitter Instagram Soundcloud Linktr.ee

Grooving to the Beat of ‘Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative’: The 19-Year Sonic Odyssey of a Radio DJ

Nineteen years feels like a long time to do anything. Why do a radio show when no one may be listening?

Let me tell you, being a radio DJ isn’t just a gig; it’s a cosmic voyage into the heart of musical expression and requires more endurance than you think. Just the other day, someone came up to me with ‘Hey, you’re that weird DJ guy!’ To which I answered, ‘Yup.’ And then they said, “Why do a show when you know no one is listening!” And, I stopped short, wondered about whether they were right, and then came to the conclusion that as long as one person finds comfort, as long as one person finds a song that speaks to them – then it matters. We are a community. We stand strong in the face of a destructive tide of avoidance and ignorance of new music. And that’s why I am who I am, standing behind the microphone every Tuesday afternoon, steering the ship that is ‘Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative.’

If I were to condense 19 years of my life into a single, rhythmic heartbeat, it would be the pulsating cadence of a radio wave, broadcasting stories, music, and dreams to an invisible audience. My journey through college radio has been a dance with the ether, a passionate affair with sound, and a canvas for my creative expression. I invite you to join me on a nostalgic journey through the tapestry of my radio experience.

The Birth of an Odyssey

As the crackling needle touched vinyl for the first time in 1983, I found myself immersed in a world that was both electrifying and liberating. I began doing radio to work on improving my stutter but I also wanted to know more about music. I wanted to comb through the vinyl collection and find records that I had read about but never had the chance to hear. I was hungry for music old and new. College radio at the University of Minnesota was not just a hobby; it was a calling. Like music journalist David Marsh dissecting the nuances of rock lyrics, I dissected the frequencies and wavelengths that carried the voices of generations before me while anxiously awaiting the new music that was to come.

My first show, Radio Artifacts, was from 1983 to 1984 where I truly learned about indie music, Minnesota-based bands, and in so many ways the future of music through bands like R.E.M., Hüsker Dü, The Smiths, U2, The Replacements, The Cure, The Connells, and The Clash. From 1984 to 1988, a new show focused on alternative and college music and the art of music making, the poorly named ‘Art for Artsake’ that was both a play on my first name and — at least to me — a reflection of the mission of the show. During graduate school from 1988 to 1993, I was involved with Bowling Green State Universities’ WBGU where I had a succession of shows whose names were lost to reflections and glimpses of memory. After grad school, I dabbled in radio at WMUB in Oxford, Ohio from 1995 to 2000. For four years I had an itch I could not scratch.

The love of indie and alternative music was something that stayed with me even without a show. But eventually, that itch became unbearable and I started a show “The School of Rock with Dr. J” in 2004 at The University of Dayton’s WUDR. Modeled in some ways on the Jack Black movie — yeah I know: Cue the eye roll. TSOR was an almost didactic approach, I played music that mattered to me and explored current indie, local, and Dayton music. I explored how current unknown and undiscovered music was connected to the music of the past. Several shows explored how The Byrds – The Flying Burrito Brothers – The Eagles – Jason and the Scorchers – Cowpunk – Uncle Tupelo – Son Volt and Wilco were all connected. The airwaves were my playground from which I discovered the richness of independent, alternative, and college music.

During these various shows, I interviewed indie artists and underground bands. College radio was not just about the music; it was about the stories behind the notes. The vibrant community of DJs, producers, and listeners was a testament to the power of shared passion. Just like Dave Marsh in his work united rock aficionados, we united lovers of alternative sounds, forging connections beyond the frequencies.

Nineteen years is a long time to do anything, and within the span of my radio experiences, I have witnessed the tectonic shifts in the audio and radio landscape. College radio stations evolved from humble FM stations to digital juggernauts streaming across the globe. Writers and journalists have chronicled the evolution of rock music, and I chronicled the evolution of radio itself in the changes in my own practice. The use of digital tools has made so much of the “doing of radio” the clicks of buttons and the dragging of files. Many tasks that once involved carts and tape or vinyl were replaced with CDs which in turn were replaced themselves with digital files. The advent of the internet brought a new dawn, expanding our reach but also challenging our authenticity. Is radio still real in the digital age? In an era of Spotify, does radio still matter when you can listen to what you want, when you want, and do it all in the palm of your hand? Why do a radio show when no one might be listening?

The Sonic Shaman

You see, being a radio DJ is more than just “spinning tracks,” It’s more than just “playing music.” It is far more than just clicking a button and dragging a cursor across the soft glow of a computer screen. It’s about conjuring emotions and weaving stories through sound. When I join with the airwaves and internet signals, I am driven by faith in the power of new music. The beauty and the lifeblood of local music call to me. Maybe all of this is some strange and unchangeable part of being a “music evangelist.” Perhaps one becomes a sonic shaman of sorts, guiding listeners through the labyrinthine tapestry of music. Every tune I play carries a piece of my soul, and when those frequencies hit your ears, they transcend mere notes and rhythms. It’s a trip through time and space seeking the person who feels alone with a simple message that they are not disconnected, they matter and the community is better for their contributions.

The Rebel Cry

Lester Bangs, one of the quintessential American rock critics, taught us that music is the language of rebellion. And that’s precisely what I aim to channel with ‘Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative.’ It’s a rebellion against the mundane, against the homogenized playlists of corporate radio. in my vision of myself, I am like the underground guerrilla fighter, battling the forces of mediocrity with a vinyl arsenal of sonic revolutionaries. Each song I play is a battle cry, a defiant scream against the mainstream. Or at least, that is probably what I really want to believe because, you know, 19 years is a long time.

The Community Connection

Radio is a lifeline to the community, a bridge between disparate souls. ‘Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative’ is not just a show; it’s a lifeline for misfits, dreamers, and music lovers who still hang tight to the idea that music matters. I’m not just playing records; I’m forging connections. I’m the curator of a sonic underground, bringing people together through the magic of music. When that listener calls in to request a song, it’s more than a request; it’s a statement that says, “I’m part of this, too.” Those moments of connection are more important now than ever before. We need that musical validation: “Look, we are here and the music that speaks to us matters.”

The Quest for Obscurity

Lester Bangs was all about the obscure, the unknown, the raw. I share that passion. My show isn’t about chart-toppers or Billboard hits; it’s about the hidden gems, the indie bands struggling for recognition, the perfect voice that chills us while holding us close and telling us that everything is going to be alright. YTAA is about the beautiful unknowns, the forgotten tracks that deserve a second chance, and the great new songs that need to be heard. I think of myself as a musical archaeologist, digging through archives, near and far, and unearthing sonic treasures. It’s about unearthing the lost voices and forgotten riffs that deserve a place in the sun.

The Journey Continues

So why am I a radio DJ with ‘Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative’? Why continue to be a DJ even if no one is listening? Because it’s not just a job; it’s a calling, a mission, a cosmic journey through the soundscape of the human experience. It’s a rebellion, a lifeline, and a quest for the obscure. It’s about community, connection, and the never-ending search for that perfect riff, that perfect groove, that unbelievable hit of the drum, that chilling voice that makes you catch your breath. It’s about the song that you cannot forget, no matter how hard you may try. It’s about the perfect lyric that shows you that you are not alone in feeling the way that you do.

Today, as I look back on 19 years of college/indie/alternative radio with YTAA, I see the echoes of countless voices, the resonance of music that touched souls, and the indelible mark it left on my life. David Marsh once wrote, “Rock and roll is an attitude, it’s not a musical form of a strict sort. It’s a way of doing things, of approaching things.” College radio, in my world, was — and is — that attitude – a way of doing things that transcended the mere act of broadcasting. So, yeah, it’s more than pushing a button and just playing a song. I would like to believe that it matters, and if it has meant something to just one person somewhere, anywhere then it was absolutely worth it for me.

Hopefully, this essay has helped chronicle my lifelong journey with college/indie radio – a journey that echoed the rhythms of my heart, shaped my identity, and allowed me to be a storyteller in a world of sound. Just as the radio DJs, Music writers, and journalists of the past contributed words that continue to resonate with music enthusiasts, the memories and experiences of 19 years on the airwaves/internet will forever resonate within me, a testament to the enduring power of radio and the magic of its transmission through time and space.

In the spirit of Lester Bangs, I’ll keep cranking up the volume, diving deep into the musical abyss, and taking you along for the ride. Because ‘Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative’ is not just a show; it’s an alternative reality, a refuge for the sonic explorers, and a testament to the power of music to change our lives. So, tune in, turn it up, and let’s keep this cosmic journey rolling for as long as we are able to do so.

New Show Today!

Hello There music lovers!

Today on Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative with Dr. J we feature new music from The Darling Suns, Lavender Honey, Cricketbows, illuminati hotties, Pat Byrne, Izzy True (see our video of the day!), Oh Condor, The Revelries, Jayne Sachs, The Connells, Hiss Golden Messenger, Phil Yates & The Affiliates, Cold War Kids, Thrasher Cadillac, Paul Westerberg, True Lies, On The Runway and many more! And if that was not enough musical goodness, the show will kick off with new music from Dayton, Ohio’s own Neo American Pioneers. They have a new record ‘Into the Deep‘ coming out in July from the fine folks at Magnaphone Records!

Join Dr. J from 3-6pm on WUDR Flyer Radio! And if you cannot listen to the live show, check out our Mixcloud page! Remember that you can always reach out to us on twitter at drjytaa with your requests and suggestions!

As always: Support Your Local Music Scene!

YTAA on Mixcloud

Not able to listen to Your Tuesday Afternoon Alternative when we air the show on Tuesdays from 3-6pm on WUDR Flyer Radio? We now have a Mixcloud page where you can listen to YTAA at your convenience! Please take a moment and visit our Mixcloud page!