Man. Has it really been over thirty years? Thirty years of Dana and Carl shows?
The record says yeah, yeah, yeah! Although we didn't sign on as This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio until December 27th of 1998, our roots do indeed stretch all the way back to our first series We're Your Friends For Now in 1992. We're Your Friends For Now only lasted from January to June of '92 before the station itself collapsed, but it was an embryonic version of whatever the hell it is we do on TIRnRR. I play a record. Dana plays a record. Back and forth.
Our first spin on We're Your Friends For Now was "Why Do You Treat Me Like A Tramp?" by Gashead. Over the following weeks into ensuing decades, the Dana and Carl show evolved from We're Your Friends For Now to Radio Peace to We're Your Mates For Now to This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio. The Beatles and the Flashcubes. The Ramones and Carla Thomas, the Go-Go's and the Monkees. The Kinks and the Kinks. CHUCK BERRY! And Freddie and the Dreamers. Hundreds of artists. Thousands of spins. It all started on January 15th, 1992, with the pilot episode of We're Your Friends For Now.
So, yes: Three decades of sight gags on the radio, of neck-snappin' segues, of The Forgotten Original! and The Greatest Record Ever Made!, of Featured Performers, Fave Raves, banter, and music, music, music.
There hasn't been much banter the last couple of years. When the world shut down in 2020, the palatial SPARK Syracuse studio shut down with it. Our final in-person TIRnRR to date aired on 3/15/2020.
We still wanted to do a radio show.
After one week off trying to figure stuff out, we came back with a special Zoom show on March 29th, celebrating the release of Pop Co-Op's then-new album Factory Settings. On April 5th of 2020, inspired by a conversation with Michael McCartney of The Time Machine in Maui, This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio returned, a loud and clueless phoenix arisen from the ashes.
Remote programming! Dana and I settle the playlist: back and forth, like always, but now via telephone conversation. We assemble the tracks, I record patter, and Dana turns it into a radio show. We still build The Best Three Hours Of Radio On The Whole Friggin' Planet. Only our process of building it has changed.
We keep building it, every week, for as long as we're able. In late 2021, Kool Kat Musik CEO Ray Gianchetti told us it was time for another TIRnRR compilation. Out went the call, and some of our amazing friends stepped up with stellar, stellar tracks for your rockin' pop compilation-listenin' pleasure. Kurt Reil mastered it at his House Of Vibes studio, and the result is amazing.
A good compilation album gathers a bunch of great individual songs. A great compilation album tells a story, however slight, its flow implying a meaning beyond the sum of its parts. The listener can perceive a thread, a connection from song to song, even when each song was created by a different artist.
Does This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Volume 5 have a story to tell? We believe it does. It's an impression, a feel, expressed from Laurie Biagini's appreciation of the cathartic magic of records played by a rockin' pop DJ, through the loving promise of the Mayflowers' "Sunflower Girl," Perilous' "Rock & Roll Kiss," and Pop Co-Op's "Extra Beat In My Heart." It winds through the (unrequited?) yearning of Maura and the Bright Lights' "Perfect Girl," the beguiling warning signs of Hoover and Martinez's "What The Heart Wants," the giddy highs of Carolyne Mas' "In The Rain," and the bargaining of Deadlights' "Pretend To Pretend" and Irene Peña's "In This Room." It weighs the risks and rewards of Chris von Sneidern's "Goodnight Sailor" and Arielle Eden's "Sagittarius." It braves the recriminations, accusations, anger, and acceptance that rage in unequal measure through Stevenson and Company's "Talking Down To Me," Justine and the Unclean's "Vengeance," the Jangle Band's "So Long," and Kid Gulliver's "Forget About Him." The aching regret of Gary Frenay's "Just Like Me" comes too late to save us.
But Kelley Ryan offers redemption, washing away sins and mishaps in "The Church Of Laundry." The weathered rumblings that drive Tall Poppy Syndrome's "Come Some Christmas Eve (Or Halloween)," In Deed's "Peace & Quiet," and Ballzy Tomorrow's "Out There" lead us into a hard-won promised land: "Someone To Hold On To," as sung by the Villas. Amy Rigby's "Tom Petty Karaoke" provides an opportunity to pause, and then keep on swinging, our resilience renewed through love and music.
All through this process, before we'd even decided whether or not there would be a This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Volume 5, we always knew that hypothetical album's story had to close with Eytan Mirsky's "This Year's Gonna Be Our Year." Had to. No other choice. It is one of the most uplifting songs I've ever known, an ode to hope and determination that acknowledges the near-certainty of failure...and forges ahead anyway. Hands held. Gaze fixed. Eyes on the prize. This year, man. This year.
This year.
Here's to the promise of this year. Listening to this record, Dana and I are proud of the story we think we hear. We didn't sing or play a note of it; we can't take credit for any of the individual great tracks. But we didn't want a good compilation album; we wanted nothing less than a great compilation album. And here it is.
That's our story. Dig the sounds, and dig the story they tell. Hey Mr. DJ: play me a song.
Fantastic!
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