Fine, Upstanding Graduate Am I...
Beth and I drove to UW-Oshkosh this weekend for their annual Radio-TV-Film banquet. I was invited as a guest speaker and prepared a sound-heavy talk that dwelt on the ideas of finding your career strengths and spreading your talents across all media platforms, not just one. I got quite a few laughs throughout the speech, but when I tried to bring the message home near the end, I felt I was losing the crowd a little. Too much ra-ra-ra inspiration. A little long and not enough levity. But I think I made my point and got some handshakes. Beth thought I did well. Self-grade: B.
One overwhelming feeling during the banquet was that of detachment. Not a single person at the event was there during my time at UW-Oshkosh, which was only 10 years ago now. Only two RTF staff members during my schooling are still with the University and both decided not to come. My favorite radio professor retired last year and there were no alumni in attendance. To be fair, the one staff person I did know was a guest professor during my Junior year, but only for 12 weeks. As sweet as he is (he was the one who suggested I speak), he wasn't a continuous presence during my college years. To be succinct, my once-strong nostalgia for Oshkosh appears to be fading, and I'm surprised that I'm not mourning that fact to a greater degree.
Back to the studio tonight. Listened to "Edward R. Murrow" with some fresh ears and decided to rip apart everything but the rhythm section and chord progression. I envisioned this track being leaner and meaner. It's a bit to lush at the moment. New goals for the intro: A more violent percussion section starting slightly buried in the beginning but rearing it's ugly head later. Also, an ominous start to the track before the drums come in. Sort of an opening fanfare, if you will. I'm turning to Soviet choral music for inspiration. Let's see what sticks. Possible sounds for the open? Laundry machines, TV distortion, tornado sirens and kitchen appliances.
Reading: On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno by David Shepperd. Listening: The brilliant new album by Super Furry Animals - Dark Days/Light Years.
One more note, I've been Tweeting my album updates far more frequently than writing in long-form here. Won't you follow me? Won't you be my neighbor?
One overwhelming feeling during the banquet was that of detachment. Not a single person at the event was there during my time at UW-Oshkosh, which was only 10 years ago now. Only two RTF staff members during my schooling are still with the University and both decided not to come. My favorite radio professor retired last year and there were no alumni in attendance. To be fair, the one staff person I did know was a guest professor during my Junior year, but only for 12 weeks. As sweet as he is (he was the one who suggested I speak), he wasn't a continuous presence during my college years. To be succinct, my once-strong nostalgia for Oshkosh appears to be fading, and I'm surprised that I'm not mourning that fact to a greater degree.
Back to the studio tonight. Listened to "Edward R. Murrow" with some fresh ears and decided to rip apart everything but the rhythm section and chord progression. I envisioned this track being leaner and meaner. It's a bit to lush at the moment. New goals for the intro: A more violent percussion section starting slightly buried in the beginning but rearing it's ugly head later. Also, an ominous start to the track before the drums come in. Sort of an opening fanfare, if you will. I'm turning to Soviet choral music for inspiration. Let's see what sticks. Possible sounds for the open? Laundry machines, TV distortion, tornado sirens and kitchen appliances.
Reading: On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno by David Shepperd. Listening: The brilliant new album by Super Furry Animals - Dark Days/Light Years.
One more note, I've been Tweeting my album updates far more frequently than writing in long-form here. Won't you follow me? Won't you be my neighbor?