Archive | March, 2018

Clickpicka Radio on KDVS 90.3

28 Mar

2018-03-25_4787_320kbps.mp3 25-Mar-2018 04:05  286M

 

 

Letter Home  DJ Shadow
All Caps    MadVillain
Play Car    Madlib
Airbreak
Bring Back Pluto  Aesop Rock
Bergamot       MF Doom
Airbreak
Ricky’s Theme Beastie Boys
What Does Your Soul Look Like? (Part 4)  DJ Shadow
Tour De France   Kraftwerk
Metal on Metal     Kraftwerk
Airbreak
S’Cooled         Blood Orange
Strobelight Honey   Black Sheep
Its Over Now        Dan The Automator
Da Gorgon            Cornell Campbell
Airbreak
UNITE           Beastie Boys
New East St. Louis Toodle-loo  Duke Ellington
Dub Fire          Lee “Scratch” Perry
Air Break
Station to Station  David Bowie
Mother Whale Eyeless    Brian Eno
Nautilus      Bob James
Air Break
Song For Junior       Beastie Boys
Yes Or No               Wayne Shorter
The What        Notorious BIG
Air Break
Flava in Ya Ear          Craig Mack
Vampire                     The  Upsetters
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Fair Park Music Hall circa 1998

11 Mar

 

Not only did they replicate it,

but they somehow surpassed

the way the album sounded on my headphones.

Technically I was in the third row,

but with the aisles filled

and no one in their seats

my seat felt further from the stage.

 

I was actually kind of relieved

none of my friends

came with me,

as I suddenly felt self conscious of my surroundings;

watching these awkward looking geeks

make this euphoric–almost majestic music.

 

Layers of smokey light flickering

with every chord change.

People swaying to the rhythm of “Talk Show Host”

in their sweaters, blue jeans, and converse shoes.

It felt like I was in a secret club,

and everyone thinking this band’s best song was “Creep”

was missing out on this quiet Sunday evening.

This certainly beat watching the Red Sox on television.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

Beth Marie’s

9 Mar

Marble counter tops

and checkered tiled floors.

How can you be in a bad mood

with the smell of waffle in the air

and frozen sugary milk melting in your mouth?

Its impossible not to smile at this point.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

 

 

The House on Tennesee Street

8 Mar

Too close to one of my worst years to be one of my best years

but it was certainly one of the liveliest,

most pivotal of my adulthood.

 

It was my reaction to a period of deep dissatisfaction.

My brother went off to fight in the war and

my professional mistakes bled into my personal life.

No longer certain of my purpose,

I reversed direction

and spent a year shirking responsibility–and delinquent payments—

taking a massive pay cut to sort things out

in a long overdue gap year.

My brain need a break and

my psyche needed to shut down.

 

I leaned into being in that small town.

Remaking Dangerfield’s “Back to School” in my head

and taking advice from Bill Lee and Bill Murray.

Back to square one.

I rediscovered my joy through play and paint:

 

kicking and shooting and passing and jumping and sweating,

smiling and laughing and dosing; popping and locking, ponging and bonging,

puffing and sipping, napping ,fapping, crapping and snacking

shagging and packing, slapping and stroking–and lounging in cut off shorts.

 

 

An unsustainable cycle

of coffee, cannabis, naps and payment plans.

I knew at my age that it couldn’t last.

Watching the time evaporate

like the smoke building inside my lungs

and the clouds blowing out of my bedroom window.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

Michael

6 Mar

 

It felt like everyone on the subway was talking about him.

I was at the Dundas station heading to St. Clair West

when I found out.

The phone call from her only added to the sense of time and place.

There was the city wide festival

and a surprising summer romance,

but what I remember most was that no matter where I was

for the next two days, someone was playing his music

in their cars, out of the apartment windows, and in storefronts.

I may have even let a tear drop into my corn soup

when Human Nature came on the radio

at the Jamaican spot I was hanging.

Perhaps it was the sad irony hitting me,

that even at the height of his powers

he never really got to freely enjoy the fruits of his labors.

He was finally free now to smile beautifully forever

as a young, black talent where no one could

hurt or disappoint him any longer.

We all collectively failed him

and yet he never stopped giving to us.

Maybe we didn’t deserve him.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

I hope that you understand

6 Mar

My lips know exactly where they want to go

if I were to ever see you again……..

which is exactly why that can never happen.

 

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

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