Once again this is POP! workgroup coming at ya with a new half-semester’s worth of albums and EPs we added to the station’s collection. You can find these CDs on our New Pop Shelf in the broadcast room facing the couch! Feel free to take a gander and play them on your show (but please put them back!) : – ) Pop workgroup meets every Monday and Thursday evening at 9pm in the station – stop by if you’re lonely and wanna see some smiles. Here are some highlights:
*trigger warning, this post speaks about sexualized violence*
I’ve listened to the song Oblivion, by Grimes, bazillions of times. I waltzed back and forth to it in my freshman dorm on saturday nights, cooed along with it while doing my homework, defended Grimes when people started to say she was a lame sugar coated fairy princess and she wasn’t doing anything original (whatever guys, I still luvvv her)
Then, a few months ago, one of my friends told me that the song is actually about Claire Boucher’s experience with a sexual assault. Boucher gave an interview to Spin Magazine in which she said that she sings this song at every one of her shows. She talks about her identity as this super feminized, sweet kind of girl, and how this song quietly subverts that image. Says Boucher:
“Oblivion” embodies that kind of archetype, going into this masculine world that is associated with sexual assault, but presented as something really welcoming and nice. The song’s sort of about being — I was assaulted and I had a really hard time engaging in any types of relationship with men, because I was just so terrified of men for a while.
Blue Stockings published a wonderful piece that goes into this more — they say it better than I can. However, I wanted to share this song with you all as we reach our half way point in our station wide Sexual Harassment workshops. Thank you to all who’ve attended, and if you haven’t please do — not only is it actually mandatory, but it is also something that is super meaningful and relevant to our community. One thing that we’ve talked about at all of these workshops is the meaning of rape culture, and I think that this little song really drives it home. Rape culture it not something that we engage with every once in a blue moon — it’s a part of our daily lives. It’s a culture that reinforces racism, sexism, queerphobia, transphobia, ableism, and many other forms of marginalization and oppression. And it’s a culture that comes precisely from the places we don’t expect, like music.
As DJs at this community station, we make the choices about what we play, and the messages we put into the airwaves. As you put together your playlists this week, remember this: we have the amazing, beautiful freedom as media makers to reject and transform the things that piss us off, and to celebrate the things that make us feel powerful.
I’ll be playing a little bit of Grimes.
–Sophie, News Director
Below you will find a digital, color version of our zine, Listen Up, Listen In.
Nick Hennies, Bromp Treb, and the Stranahan-Miralia duo are playing at Fairchild Chapel on March 17 at 9:30 PM. FB Event.
Why should I watch a man play nothing but a single snare drum for twenty minutes? Because that man is Nick Hennies.
Nick Hennies is about as versatile as someone who bangs on things for a living can get. Classically trained, he studied with renowned contemporary music guru Steve Schick at UC-San Diego. He then found himself in Austin, where he co-founded critically acclaimed band The Weird Weeds. Meanwhile, he also became known for his performances of experimental contemporary music by composers like John Cage, Alvin Lucier, Peter Ablinger, and even revered outsider artist Jandek. He’s also a composer in his own right. So saying Nick Hennies would be doing nothing but playing a single snare drum for twenty minutes is like saying you’d be doing nothing but listening to a single Pink Floyd album for twenty minutes. Yes, I am saying that a single snare drum can equal a Pink Floyd album in depth and complexity. If you’re not a huge fan of Pink Floyd, it will surpass it easily. Just don’t expect him to do any covers.
If Nick Hennies is the stoic liberator of hidden sounds, Bromp Treb is the court jester peddling the wonderful and weird. Perhaps you know him as a member of celebrated avant-rock masters Fat Worm of Error (Oberlin visitors just a couple years back). Bromp Treb is a surprise at every turn, a ritual-like hodgepodge of noises and dramatic gestures, mixed up so much until you’re not sure what is man and what is machine.