Schickel E-Mix
As much as I miss Seattle, I have discovered one huge advantage of living in Cleveland: I can once again listen to the radio program Schickele Mix.
Overall, I've been fairly disappointed with radio programming in Cleveland. Now the FM radio band has room for a station at every 0.2 MHz from about 87.9 to 107.9 MHz: dozens of possible channels to choose from. In Cleveland, every one of those frequencies is occupied by a station that comes in just at the borderline between hardly any signal and pure noise. Lots of really cool-sounding stations-and all barely recognizable as a coherent signal. SIGH. With a little research I found the explanation for this phenomenon: somehow, Cleveland only has about six radio stations, while each of the surrounding cities-Youngstown, Kent, Akron, etc.-has about 35. What's up with that? Luckily, the range between about 89 and 92 MHz is peppered with decent public stations (one for every college within radio-earshot) that I can receive with a listenable signal about 40% of the time (depending on the weather, ionospheric conditions, the phase of the moon, and the Earth's magnetic field). Of the strong channels, two are listenable: Majic [sic] 105.7 (60s and 70s), which has really good music but is about 75% ads during the business day; and WCLV, one of the most famous classical stations on Earth.
It is WCLV that carries Schickele Mix, oddly enough. I say "oddly enough" because WCLV is a commercial station, and Schickele Mix is produced by Public Radio International (PRI). It seems that during the unfashionable hourse, WCLV reverts to a public broadcast, a perfect setting for Schickele Mix, which comes on Saturday night at 11. I've never heard of a station that does this; I believe that KING-FM (a classical station in Seattle) has commercials 'round the clock. But I listened to WCLV for about three hours Saturday night and did not hear ad one. (I did hear a lot of really weird music and spoken-word programming; I might discuss it at a later date, once I find out what's really going on.)
At this point, you'd probably like to ask me, "Robu-hakasei: What is Schickele Mix?" Well, I'm glad you'd probably like to ask me that, because that's what I'd probably like to tell you about. Schickele Mix is hosted by Peter Schickele, the creative force behind P.D.Q. Bach (the last of J.S. Bach's twenty-odd children, and certainly the oddest). Each week, Prof. Schickele chooses some aspect of music and discusses it, with lots of examples from real musical pieces. The subject can be anything connected with music. Often he talks about some aspect of music theory (the study of the structure and characteristics of music in general), such as a type of metrical device or unusual type of musical scale. Other times, the subject is a particular theme about which musical works are written. His musical selections are generally focused toward classical music, but anything is fair game.
When I lived in Salt Lake City, I caught Schickele Mix whenever possible, although it was broadcast at the rather inconvenient hour of noon on Saturday. (Seattle should be ashamed that Salt Lake City, that cultural wasteland, can boast of hosting this particular cultural experience, when Seattle does not.) This Saturday I caught my first Schickele Mix program in eight years.
It was a good one, too. This week's topic was insects and other creepy-crawlies in music. Right off the bat was an excellent, and, as far as I know, factual song about dust mites by Heywood Banks. The artist rattled off a description of the appearance and personal habits of dust mites, touching on such points of interest as the number of dust mites in the average bed and the mites' preferred food (flaked-off skin cells, of course), to a happy little tune reminiscent of both "Fish Heads" by Barnes & Barnes and "Piggies" off the White Album. In the program there were two entire suites of pieces about spiders. I'd've lost a vast amount of respect for Prof. Schickele if he didn't play the ultimate spider tune, "Boris the Spider" by The Who. He didn't disappoint; and in fact agreed with me right on the air that "Boris the Spider" represents the very pinnacle of arachnid music. Just for fun, here are the lyrics:
Look, he's crawling up my wall,
Black and hairy, very small;
Now he's up above my head
Hanging by a little thread.
[Growled] Boris the spider!
Boris the spider!
Now he's dropped on to the floor,
Heading for the bedroom door;
Maybe he's as scared as me,
Where's he gone now, I can't see.
Boris the spider!
Boris the spider!
Creepy, crawly,
Creepy, crawly,
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepycreepycrawlycrawly...
There he is wrapped in a ball
Doesn't seem to move at all
Perhaps he's dead, I'll just make sure
Pick this book up off the floor
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepycreepycrawlycrawly...
He's come to a sticky end,
Don't think he will ever mend;
Never more will he crawl 'round,
He's embedded in the ground!
Boris the spider!
Boris the spider!
Prof. Schickele also told us that Peter is really his middle name, and that his full name is J. Peter Schickele. I am intimately familiar with Prof. Schickele's music, but I'd never suspected that he had a different first name. He wouldn't tell us right out what the J. stood for, but he gave us this clue: "Luke Skywalker's friend is walking along the street in Harlem, and someone calls out to him."
This is your friendly Robu-hakasei, reminding you that "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Doesn't Have That Certain Je ne c'est quoi."
______________________________
*The title comes from an episode of Schickele Mix about a rhythmic device called the hemiola, in which the meter (number of beats per measure, and the grouping of those beats) is ambiguous. During the program he reads an e-letter from some fan named "Download Dobson," who thinks that the name of the program is "Schickel E-Mix," and who praises Prof. Schickele on pioneering the use of the e- prefix to mean "electronic." (You noticed, of course, that the pair "Schickele Mix" and "Schickel E-Mix" form a kind of hemiola.) At the subsequent station ID break, Prof. Schickele closes with, "This is Peter Schickeleeeeeeee, and the program is Schickele...[long pause]...Mix." For some inexplicable reason, that kept me chuckling for the entire afternoon. You know how occasionally something completely random will just grab your funny bone and won't let go for anything? That happens to me all the time. Just ask Kathy; she has to suffer through it all the time.
Overall, I've been fairly disappointed with radio programming in Cleveland. Now the FM radio band has room for a station at every 0.2 MHz from about 87.9 to 107.9 MHz: dozens of possible channels to choose from. In Cleveland, every one of those frequencies is occupied by a station that comes in just at the borderline between hardly any signal and pure noise. Lots of really cool-sounding stations-and all barely recognizable as a coherent signal. SIGH. With a little research I found the explanation for this phenomenon: somehow, Cleveland only has about six radio stations, while each of the surrounding cities-Youngstown, Kent, Akron, etc.-has about 35. What's up with that? Luckily, the range between about 89 and 92 MHz is peppered with decent public stations (one for every college within radio-earshot) that I can receive with a listenable signal about 40% of the time (depending on the weather, ionospheric conditions, the phase of the moon, and the Earth's magnetic field). Of the strong channels, two are listenable: Majic [sic] 105.7 (60s and 70s), which has really good music but is about 75% ads during the business day; and WCLV, one of the most famous classical stations on Earth.
It is WCLV that carries Schickele Mix, oddly enough. I say "oddly enough" because WCLV is a commercial station, and Schickele Mix is produced by Public Radio International (PRI). It seems that during the unfashionable hourse, WCLV reverts to a public broadcast, a perfect setting for Schickele Mix, which comes on Saturday night at 11. I've never heard of a station that does this; I believe that KING-FM (a classical station in Seattle) has commercials 'round the clock. But I listened to WCLV for about three hours Saturday night and did not hear ad one. (I did hear a lot of really weird music and spoken-word programming; I might discuss it at a later date, once I find out what's really going on.)
At this point, you'd probably like to ask me, "Robu-hakasei: What is Schickele Mix?" Well, I'm glad you'd probably like to ask me that, because that's what I'd probably like to tell you about. Schickele Mix is hosted by Peter Schickele, the creative force behind P.D.Q. Bach (the last of J.S. Bach's twenty-odd children, and certainly the oddest). Each week, Prof. Schickele chooses some aspect of music and discusses it, with lots of examples from real musical pieces. The subject can be anything connected with music. Often he talks about some aspect of music theory (the study of the structure and characteristics of music in general), such as a type of metrical device or unusual type of musical scale. Other times, the subject is a particular theme about which musical works are written. His musical selections are generally focused toward classical music, but anything is fair game.
When I lived in Salt Lake City, I caught Schickele Mix whenever possible, although it was broadcast at the rather inconvenient hour of noon on Saturday. (Seattle should be ashamed that Salt Lake City, that cultural wasteland, can boast of hosting this particular cultural experience, when Seattle does not.) This Saturday I caught my first Schickele Mix program in eight years.
It was a good one, too. This week's topic was insects and other creepy-crawlies in music. Right off the bat was an excellent, and, as far as I know, factual song about dust mites by Heywood Banks. The artist rattled off a description of the appearance and personal habits of dust mites, touching on such points of interest as the number of dust mites in the average bed and the mites' preferred food (flaked-off skin cells, of course), to a happy little tune reminiscent of both "Fish Heads" by Barnes & Barnes and "Piggies" off the White Album. In the program there were two entire suites of pieces about spiders. I'd've lost a vast amount of respect for Prof. Schickele if he didn't play the ultimate spider tune, "Boris the Spider" by The Who. He didn't disappoint; and in fact agreed with me right on the air that "Boris the Spider" represents the very pinnacle of arachnid music. Just for fun, here are the lyrics:
Look, he's crawling up my wall,
Black and hairy, very small;
Now he's up above my head
Hanging by a little thread.
[Growled] Boris the spider!
Boris the spider!
Now he's dropped on to the floor,
Heading for the bedroom door;
Maybe he's as scared as me,
Where's he gone now, I can't see.
Boris the spider!
Boris the spider!
Creepy, crawly,
Creepy, crawly,
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepycreepycrawlycrawly...
There he is wrapped in a ball
Doesn't seem to move at all
Perhaps he's dead, I'll just make sure
Pick this book up off the floor
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepy-creepy-crawly-crawly,
Creepycreepycrawlycrawly...
He's come to a sticky end,
Don't think he will ever mend;
Never more will he crawl 'round,
He's embedded in the ground!
Boris the spider!
Boris the spider!
Prof. Schickele also told us that Peter is really his middle name, and that his full name is J. Peter Schickele. I am intimately familiar with Prof. Schickele's music, but I'd never suspected that he had a different first name. He wouldn't tell us right out what the J. stood for, but he gave us this clue: "Luke Skywalker's friend is walking along the street in Harlem, and someone calls out to him."
This is your friendly Robu-hakasei, reminding you that "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Doesn't Have That Certain Je ne c'est quoi."
______________________________
*The title comes from an episode of Schickele Mix about a rhythmic device called the hemiola, in which the meter (number of beats per measure, and the grouping of those beats) is ambiguous. During the program he reads an e-letter from some fan named "Download Dobson," who thinks that the name of the program is "Schickel E-Mix," and who praises Prof. Schickele on pioneering the use of the e- prefix to mean "electronic." (You noticed, of course, that the pair "Schickele Mix" and "Schickel E-Mix" form a kind of hemiola.) At the subsequent station ID break, Prof. Schickele closes with, "This is Peter Schickeleeeeeeee, and the program is Schickele...[long pause]...Mix." For some inexplicable reason, that kept me chuckling for the entire afternoon. You know how occasionally something completely random will just grab your funny bone and won't let go for anything? That happens to me all the time. Just ask Kathy; she has to suffer through it all the time.