To all visitors: Kalvos & Damian is now a historical site reflecting nonpop
from 1995-2005. No updates have been made since a special program in 2015.
Chronicle of the NonPop Revolution
When Cole Porter began to write "Begin the Beguine" on a Saturday afternoon
in 1935 while strolling through the Grackle Woods near the American-Portuguese border,
he was indirectly paying tribute to an event in tumbling history which occurred on this
date 622 years ago when Geoffrey Chaucer was appointed Controller on Wool Subsidies.
Mr. Chaucer, long a short-tempered middleman with the writers' guild, overnight turned
into a jovial administrator of shepherds prone to extended periods of rumination. A later
song, "Night and Day," once thought to have been a paean to the Welsbach
Street Lighting Corporation, is now known to mirror feelings he harbored when he
enviously watched his older brother hot-wire his Oldsmobile. As unrelated as these two
events may seem to you, dear listener, we here at the Sesquihour are quite happy to
provide the levers needed to pry the truth out of this historically foggy morass,
apocryphobes be damned.
Four sesquintros ago, hot on the heels of another sesquivision, I rearranged the letters in the names of certain individuals whose relevance to the date of the show was beyond conjecture, no matter how much one might wish to quibble, and a message of staggering circumscription was revealed. Never mind the utter absence of popular support for it, circumstances warrant that this anagramatical phenomenon be revisited ... as does what would otherwise be a large gap in my page of words. Anyway, the persons on today's list are Paul Gauguin, Nancy Sinatra, Frank Lloyd Wright, the previously discussed Cole Porter, and Suharto, all of whose birthdays collide on June 8, plus Satchel Paige, E.M. Forster, Carry Nation and Claudio Arrau, who all croaked today, give or take a day. And the amazing phrase that can be pried from this list and which speaks volumes of, well, I don't know what, is simply this: "To hang Don Coyote in randy carnations for frail copper turtle is like grungy hair as a catalpa uhuru rug was ram treacle," which is, no matter how often I say it, still no relation to le flambeau oriange, or "I'm a long baua feeler."
Today on Episode 55, we explore the flute, or, feetlhut, and its corollary, nuclear holistic magnetohydrodynamics. Our special guest is a musician groomed in the hallowed tradition of a San Diego institution famous for its grooming. Academically trained, yes, but also an Amsterdamian, no relation to me, or to Kalvos, her name can be rearranged to make "Bangle a Neer," which pretty much sums up her direction in neo flute techniques.
This portion of Kalvos & Damian's New Music Sesquihour -- or, "Soon is a quaver muscle in a dawn skid hums" -- brought to you by this portion of Soon is a quaver ... I mean, Kalvos & Damian's New Music Sesquihour, and any rebroadcast, retransmission or other use of the program's music and opinions, such as they are, without the express written permission of ... oh, never mind.
And now, with a discouraging few number of CDs devoted to the more morose musical side of Carl Nielsen, whose imminent birthday anniversary will not likely be shared with you on today's program, and correct me if I'm wrong, it's Sovlak of the LPs again.