It’s a wonderful song. Tops. But, as a Stevie Wonder song, it’s pretty obscure. As a song, it’s fairly obscure. And, without that bouncy, funky-assed signature line running through it, everyone’s all like, what the heck are they doing?
Here’s the original:
And here’s the Peppers:
And please notice what the Peppers did NOT ignore, in fact, what they put front and center. Without that line, it is not “Higher Ground.” It’s “what the heck are they doing?”
I am a blogger who dabbles in Internet radio. I have previously operated two or three stations on third party services such as Live365 and the now-defunct Loudcaster. Loudcaster was a scrappy little upstart and at one time was tremendous for ease of use and flexibility. Then it changed platforms and became, well, less so. Then it folded. So, I just stopped.
But I missed it. I know it’s a mere vanity project. But it’s fun to hang songs onto the cloud and to have a radio interface that allows you and a few of your friends to listen to your playlist. But I was lacking a decent name or context. Previously, I had framed the station as a half Howard Stern tribute called Proper Modulation. But I very much wanted the station to be a reflection of this particular Web space.
Then, one day, I was playing a bit of a word game with this blog’s name. I’d been trying to abbreviate it because, as you can see, the domain for this blog is kind of ridiculous.
I started with AITWK as a direct abbreviation for Adventures Into The Well-Known.
Then I saw it. It was beautiful.
AIT = 8. Then, WK. 8WK!
Sadly, 8wk.com is taken. Such things can never be so simple. So, it was either accept 8wk.org or do something I despise doing when choosing a domain: Use special characters to create a new name.
I dunno. This seemed to work. You can get to 8WK on Live365 by visiting:
The station mostly plays timeless classic rock, leveraging the generous music library that’s offered by Live365. I mean, they always say the best way to garner listeners is to utilize a strict programming genre or format. 8WK can’t do that, however, because my own musical preference is rather eclectic.
So hooray. 8WK is on the air.
A quick plug to my domain registrar: Hover. Simplified domain interface. No ads or add-on offers. If you hate Go Daddy, here’s your alternative.
If you ask me, buying a stage pass for the Rochester International Jazz Festival is like saying, hi, I’d like to pay you munny so I can stand in line for the music, please? Besides. I bought my pass when I signed my lease.
Here are the more interesting acts playing the city stages. One could keep oneself pretty well entertained with the following roster.
Friday, June 21
Josh Panda and the Hot Damned. 7 p.m. East Ave. & Chestnut St.
Dr. John. 9 p.m. East Ave. & Chestnut St.
Saturday, June 22
Robin McKelle & The Flytones. 7:15 and 9:15 p.m. Jazz Street.
Sunday, June 23
Shuffle Demons. 7:15 and 9:15 p.m. Jazz Street.
Thursday, June 27
Dirty Dozen Brass Band.* Harro East Ballroom, 5:30 and 7:15 p.m.
Friday, June 28
Mingo Fishtrap. 7:15 and 9:15 p.m. Jazz Street.
Dirty Dozen Brass Band.* 8:30 and 10 p.m. Unity Health Care Big Tent.
Saturday, June 29
Mingo Fishtrap. 7 p.m. East Ave. & Alexander St.
Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue. 9 p.m. East Ave. & Alexander St.
Dwayne Dopsie & The Zydeco Hellraisers. 7:15 and 9:15 p.m. Jazz Street.
*The only act on the schedule I’m planning to shell out munny to see. $20.
In Other News
Call me crazy. But I think directly outside of the public bathroom doors is a weird place to stand and carry on a conversation.
I think someone should manufacture a guitar amplifier based on the television series known as “Futurama.” It would be called the “Bender Fender.”
I mean, you want to root for Brad Paisley on this. He is, after all, the Lou Diamond Phillips of country music, as in, he was with this really smokin’ broad from Kansas but it turned out she was lesbionic. I don’t know about you, but that really makes me wanna root for a guy. “Gooooooooo Brad!”
Not to mention, I kind of respect the intention of “Accidental Racist.” It is, at its very least, an acknowledgment, a nod from Paisley (who, understand, was born in the non-Confederate state of West Virginia but seems to claim Tennessee as home in another single, “Southern Comfort Zone”) that, you know, racism, um, exists.
But let’s face it. If a song could walk down a city street, “Accidental Racist” would look something like this:
Oh. It’s bad. I mean, its initial premise is that the protagonist is served by an African-American gentleman at a Starbuck’s and feels a mad need to explain why he’s wearing a shirt that portrays (what I assume is) the Army of Northern Virgina battle flag or the second naval jack (which is, somewhat inexplicably, the symbol that most people refer to as the “Confederate Flag.”) And the shit that is this song just rolls downhill from there.
(At least Paisley was wise enough not to refer to that ubiquitous symbol as the “Stars and Bars.” Note to Paisley, though, a “red flag” could also refer to this or this or this; I mean, damn, did ya’ll know you were stealin’ your flag from commies and muslims?)
The simpering lyrics to this thing are here. I’m not even going to bother finding a link to the song itself. I mean, let me describe the utter badness of this song like this: In the end, rapper LL Cool J actually utters the following: “If you don’t judge my gold chains, I’ll forget the iron chains.”