Joe Bonomo writes on his blog:
Much of what we endure in the present softens and comes to a mild glow through the wide lens of nostalgia. It's more rare when something vital and urgent in the far past retains its charge in the present. Joyce Carol Oates says that "blood is memory without language." When a recollection stirs us, language vainly tries to translate. So my dilemma: how do I describe the effects on me of Weasel's "Frantic Friday" sets on WHFS in the 1980s, which have retained their charge in my memory.
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Delightful post Jim. I dropped him a note since he lives an hour away. And who couldn't resist "Thank God It's Friday."
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bill
I too was flabbergasted and transported by Weasel's Frantic Fridays. I have somewhere on tape one of them from like 1977. He would play the same few songs that were Friday anthems every time and I never tired of it. WHFS was the greatest radio station in it's heyday anywhere on earth. the diversity they played was astonishing and I, to this day, have a ridiculously broad view of music and can't get enough of new things. Started listening to them after midnight in 1969. When they went 24 hours with their 3 or 4 watts of power (exaggerating perhaps) I was close enough to get it and sucked it up like nourishment. Now I'm all nostalgic...sniff sniff....
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