3 Chords & the Truth

3 Chords & the Truth: Between 88 and 108

The_Mighty_Favog — Sat, 05 May 2012 04:40:03 GMT

I became fascinated by radio as a kid, growing up to the sounds of Top-40 radio and those wonderful disc jockeys who kept me plied in top tunes and made my imagination take flight. The deal was sealed, as it were, in my teen years (just before, actually) with the sounds of FM radio -- back when you were likely to hear anything on that stretch of crystal-clear ether, and usually did. These were the days when progressive and album-oriented rock lived somewhere between 88 and 108 megahertz, and whole vistas of sound were there for young ears to explore. Almost 40 years later, I remember. This, largely, is what 3 Chords & the Truth is all about. And this is overwhelmingly what radio today sadly has forgotten. THIS WEEK'S episode of the Big Show is yet another one where you are liable to hear any damn thing. Or at least any damn thing that's any good. In other words, it's just like the FM stations I remember and perhaps, if you are of a certain age, you remember, too. Two words for this edition of 3 Chords & the Truth: Vanilla Fudge. That is all. Enjoy the wonderful weirdness. It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords and the Truth: All wet, all good

The_Mighty_Favog — Sat, 28 Apr 2012 04:40:23 GMT

Rain, rain go away . . . or not. I really don't care. On 3 Chords & the Truth, the music is all good, and the company is all good, and that's all we need. The end. What do you mean I have to write more than that? It's cold and rainy. The music isn't. You can stay out of the bad weather and listen. We're having a fine time here in the studio. What the hell else is there to say? What do you mean by "That sounds a little thin?" IT'S MISERABLE outside here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska. It's all right inside . . . with the Big Show and with all the cool tunes. It's all good. We're having fun. End of story. Leave me alone. I've got music to play. What do you mean you don't like my attitude? Quit being such a party pooper and a spoilsport. It's all wet -- outside -- and it's all good inside . . . except for Mr. It-Sounds-a-Little-Thin. Go. Get outside in the rain. Serves you right. Now, my children, where were we? Oh, right. . . . IT'S 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords and the Truth: Rock, roll and remember

The_Mighty_Favog — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 03:26:04 GMT

What is the Big Show about this week? This week, we rock, roll and remember. That should give you a great big clue right there -- at least if you are of a certain age. That's what 3 Chords & the Truth is about this week. Thing is, I've already said about everything I have to say about it while this week's program was still a twinkle in your Mighty Favog's eye. So, with your indulgence, I'll just quote myself from a Thursday blog post: I am old enough to remember when there was only one "day the music died." This, by God, has been the week the music died. First, we learned Levon Helm -- of The Band, Levon Helm and the RCO All-Stars and his later years of "Midnight Rambles" -- was near death. Then Dick Clark died suddenly Wednesday at 82. And now, just a day later, Helm has died, too. The music dies more and more often these days, at least if you're someone my age. But like the savior of the world from a garden tomb, it always rises again, so long as we have our records and our CDs and a decent radio station here and there. IT'S 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords and the Truth: Good crazy

The_Mighty_Favog — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 03:04:10 GMT

What the hell kind of music program will be playin' the Jackie Gleason Orchestra one minute . . . and then friggin' Yes the next? As my old man once screamed at the television, "That sumbitch done lost his mind!" This music program -- 3 Chords & the Truth -- and . . . guilty as charged. On the other hand, aren't crazy people a lot more interesting? AND DON'T you think the concept carries over to the Big Show? I certainly do. But then again, this sumbitch done lost his mind. Go on. Embrace, and unshackle, your inner musical lunatic. You know you want to. And I'll be right here -- in the one-sleeved white suit. It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords and the Truth: Vive la France!

The_Mighty_Favog — Sat, 31 Mar 2012 07:34:32 GMT

Irresistiblement. Ir-res-sees-TEEB-la-mon. That is what this week's edition of 3 Chords & the Truth happens to be -- irresistible. In fact, this week's edition of the Big Show -- le Grand Spetacle en français, s'il vous plaît -- you may be tempted to hunt me down and me donne un bisou. Zou, bisou bisou! THAT would be fine if you are: a) My wife. b) Jessica Paré, of Mad Men viral-video fame. c) Sylvie Vartan, French "yé-yé" girl supreme from the 1960s and '70s. ARE YOU getting an idea about this week's episode of the Big Show. I hope you are because I will cease making sense in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . . Mairsey doates and doesey doates and littlelambsydivey. A kiddledy divey, too. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you??? C'est tout. Va t'en! Vite! Vite! Tu vas et écouter au grand spectacle! It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords and the Truth: Got good as you give

The_Mighty_Favog — Sat, 24 Mar 2012 04:16:21 GMT

It's less than an hour until my birthday, so don't expect that I'm killing myself thinking up a clever and witty description for this week's show. Besides, 3 Chords & the Truth can stand on its own without a fancy sales job. And this week, I got just as good as I give. That's your only clue. Does that make any sense to you? Ask me if I care. On to the Big Show. Now where's my beer? It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords and the Truth: 1976 comes alive!

The_Mighty_Favog — Sat, 17 Mar 2012 04:49:22 GMT

It was 1976, and it was a year of possibility. I was a sophomore in high school in 1976. The Viking spacecraft first landed on Mars in 1976. The United States was 200 years old in 1976. And I was really into Loose Radio in 1976 -- the waning days of the age of FM "progressive rock" stations and the magical world they opened up to the kids who listened. A world of possibility. This week on 3 Chords & the Truth, we'll devote an entire set to the magic, to the possibilities, to the album rock of 1976. Really, it's an "everybody wins" deal on the Big Show -- you get some really cool music, and I get to be 15 again. A much smarter 15. OF COURSE, all things 1976 isn't all there is to the program this go around. It's not like we're going to be slighting all the other decades of the music of our lives . . . and our parents' (and maybe grandparents') lives. It's all good, and it's all here on the Big Show. What's that again? It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

Four Songs: Yesterday Once More

The_Mighty_Favog — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 07:40:41 GMT

This week on Four Songs: five songs. It was necessary, one of the songs is by John Denver, and a "make good" was in order. IN MY DEFENSE, I didn't pick the music. That was done according to what was hot with the record-buying public . . . in April 1975. Unfortunately, John Denver's "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" was big back then. Unsurprisingly, I would have picked differently. But they don't let 14-year-old kids program Top-40 radio stations, and that's how old I was when this episode of Four Songs was done. Live. Through the facilities of the Big 91, WLCS radio in Baton Rouge, La. In all its amplitude-modulated glory. And glorious it was. So glorious that I was sitting at the kitchen table, early the morning of April 17, 1975, with my portable reel-to-reel tape recorder patched into the earphone jack of my clock radio to preserve a piece of WLCS forever. It was a Thursday. Gary King was the morning man. WLCS was one of Baton Rouge's two Top-40 blowtorches. Radio 13 -- WIBR -- was the other. 'IBR had some great jocks, and a friend of mine even was a part-timer there when I was in high school . . . but I was an 'LCS man. No offense to WIBR. Of course, by 1976, I was firmly in the camp of Loose Radio (WFMF during its album-oriented rock salad days). But I'll always love Double-U ELLLLLLL CEE Ess . . . even though it died in 1983, a few months after I married a KOIL woman from Omaha. And if you're under, say, 30, you're not getting this conversation at all, are you? LET ME EXPLAIN. Once upon a time, there was this thing called radio -- AM radio -- and we listened to it on "transistors," which were like iPods, only affordable. And better. An iPod only can bring you the few hundred songs you load into it after illegally downloading them off the Internet or legally buying them on iTunes. But a transistor radio, that could bring you the world, baby. All for free. And without the threat of a lawsuit by the music cops. The world first came to my bedroom on a transistor radio tuned to WLCS. I also could tune in the whole wide world on WIBR, or maybe WTIX in New Orleans -- and sometimes KAAY through the ether from Little Rock at night -- but I mostly dug those rhythm and blues . . . and rock 'n' roll . . . and countrypolitan . . . and a bit of ring-a-ding-ding, too, on the Big 91. What it was, was the breadth of American popular culture at my fingertips. And British Invasion, too. Never was education so fun. I turned on the radio just to listen to some tunes, and I found myself under the spell of a thousand different tutors -- friendly voices from morning to overnight -- playing for me the breadth of musical expression . . . or at least the musical expression that charted well. It is because of 'LCS, 'IBR, 'TIX (and later, 'FMF) that this Catholic Boy has catholic tastes. Your iPod is cool and all, but it can't do that. SEE, THE DEAL IS that I can't repay the debt I owe to WLCS, for one. I can't repay the debt I owe to Gary King, that friendly morning voice on this episode of Four Songs. For a spell there, King's was the voice I woke up to, got ready for school to and ate breakfast to. He played the hits and told me what the weather was outside, and Gene Perry gave the news at the top and bottom of the hour. Back in the day, radio was a well-rounded affair. King's also was the friendly voice that answered the studio line when an awkward teen-ager in junior-high hell would call to request a song. And his was the friendly voice that would take time to chat for a bit when that kid -- or his mother -- sometimes thought he had nothing better to do . . . like put on a morning show. I didn't know it then, and Gary King (real name: Gary Cox) probably didn't know it, either, but what he was doing was being Christ, in a sense, to a lonely kid and his -- come to think of it -- lonely mother. I shudder to think what one of today's "morning zoo" shows would do with rich material like me and Mama. That is, if they answered the studio line at all. Via the AM airwaves, I made a human connection with WLCS and Gary King. I needed that. We all need that. And you can't get that from your iPod, though some of us will try to give it, because you have to work with what you have. BEFORE APRIL 1975 was done, Gary King was gone. He originally was from Kentucky, and one day the call came from WAKY, the Top-40 powerhouse in Louisville that Gary grew up listening to. On his last show, Gary's ending bit was "convincing" Gene Perry that he could catch a bullet in his teeth if the newsman would just help him out on the gun end. It didn't work as planned . . . which means it worked perfectly in radio's "theater of the mind." I think I shed a tear or two. And a couple of years later, I was learning the ropes at WBRH, Baton Rouge High's student-run FM station. And 33 years later -- after various pit stops on the air and hot off the press -- here we are at Revolution 21, trying to figure out what "radio" will be in this new millennium . . . right here on the Internet. Thanks, Gary. I can't repay you in full, but maybe this will make a nice down payment.

On dem first day of Christmas . . .

The_Mighty_Favog — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 08:52:40 GMT

Here's another special audio presentation: A bit of nostalgia recorded off the TV in the early '70s in Baton Rouge. I remembered this recording when I heard of the death of Jules d'Hemecourt, a journalism professor when I was in school at LSU . . . and the man behind "The Cajun 12 Days of Christmas" when he was news director at Channel 33 in Baton Rouge. This must have been recorded by me, off the air, sometime around Christmas 1973. Maybe '74. D'Hemecourt, who also was the Channel 33 news anchor at the time, introduces the recording on a holiday newscast. Back in the day. Enjoy.

The tale of the tape

The_Mighty_Favog — Wed, 21 Mar 2007 20:33:55 GMT

Here's a special audio presentation -- don't worry, the podcast will post as usual Friday -- from Revolution 21. I thought you just might want to hear this . . . a ghost in the machine, as it were. What it is, is a recording of legendary Alabama radio host Joe Rumore from Oct. 28, 1949 on WVOK, Birmingham. And it's an extraordinary look back 58 years across the tidal wave of change and cultural revolution that radically transformed America. It's a look at who we used to be, and at a kinder, more gentle and humane era of broadcasting that -- to today's ears -- sounds like a just-received transmission across many light-years of interstellar space from a star system far, far away. You can read more about it on "Revolution 21's Blog for the People" at http://revolution-21.blogspot.com/2007/03/way-we-were-1949.html. Enjoy.