Looking for a Winter Term project? We urge you to apply for the Winter Term Station Manager or Winter Term Engineer positions at WOBC. You will be responsible for programming and operation of the radio station. It is a great opportunity to get more involved with the station, and you will earn a Winter Term Credit.
Please send to me a short statement of interest that includes your previous experience with the station and a few words about why we should choose you.
WOBC was very lucky to give away two pairs of tickets to the show. DJs that gave away the tickets wrote a lil somethin’ bout their favorite Os Mutantes song to get ready for the show:
“Deculpe, babe” … a song I first heard the summer after 10th grade. I was very sad that summer, listening almost exclusively to the Velvet Underground and Yo La Tengo. Walking by the train tracks at dusk, trying to teach myself to whistle and be “ok on my own”. It was relatively fruitless, but that’s hard to tell when you’re ****** all the time. Then I found this song. A friend showed it to me. I lay down with my hands behind my head and closed me eyes. It was late at night. The words were sweet and sonorous, but the energy was sweeter. Have you ever watched that movie Enter the Void? When I listened to this song, the vinyl crackling hypnotically behind the rhythms, the guitar line drifting fluidly through my brain, I felt like what happens in that movie. Except it wasn’t fucked up or tragic or depressing or scary. It was peaceful, sublime, transcendent. It was a release, a solace, a sensual bliss that seemed to dissipate my sorrows from right before my eyes, like when you wake up startled and confused and wipe the crusty film that formed while you slept from your eyes. My depression was the film; “Desculpe, babe” was the hand smearing the film away. – Plett
My favorite Os Mutantes song is “Que Tem Medo de Brincar de Amor”, from their 1970 album “A Divina Comédia ou Ando Meio Desligado.” It’s a perfect mix of Os Mutantes’ psychedelic rock sound and a more pop-rock, Beach Boys-influenced sound, in terms of its usage of various sound effects (a la “You Still Believe in Me” and many of the other tracks on “Pet Sounds”) and the California-esque accent that Rita Lee takes on at various points throughout the track. – Melissa
The burst of manic laughter that begins A Minha Menina is the perfect way to start a song that sounds sort the Black Lips if they had been playing in the 60′s… and were Brazilian. So maybe not that much like the Black Lips after all. But that same sense of a wild good time is there. A Minha Menina (My Girl) is a song for those days when nothing gets done, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.-Alex
Not a clear win by any means, but The Durutti Column‘s original version is flawless. The intro seems to drag on forever, but it totally works. Sort of goes by the idea of just enough, no more + no less; sparse strings, sparse vocals + the overall being deserted on your honeymoon in a cabana vibe. Compare this to Espers‘s take — the wind pipe or whatever… very nice. Psychedelic, airy, but a bit too “emotional”. I prefer the original — super melancholic but not too burnt about it. That said, the wooden chimes at the end are pretty cool too.
Bill Callahan. What a man. He gives us inspiration. He feeds us our bread and butter. Perfect for setting an intimate mood for conversation, pondering about life, or just crying. His melodic voice mellows us into a depressive state, reminiscent of Leonard Cohen’s older moods, before he fell in love with the shifty francophone lifestyle. Billy’s congas and classic use of the Wurlitzer coupled with his soothing, earl grey tea-vocals add a unique undertone to his melancholia. If you’ve heard of Sam Amidon but felt that it made you want to cry your eyes out and your eyes ran dry, try Bill Callahan. Billy straddles the fence between depression and utter bliss.