Claim OwnershipThe Gerard Cosloy Radio Hour (That Feels Like Two Hours)
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© 2024 The Gerard Cosloy Radio Hour (That Feels Like Two Hours)
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Because it's really two hours long. Sometimes even longer. How long a musical journey would you go on without having replaced the windshield blades?
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s I, like many of you, am overcome with PLAYOFF FEVER. Whether imy favorite basketball team's heroic attempts to win a championship for one of the world's worst humans (and one of the top 5 worst guitar players) or my favorite hockey team's heroic atempt to win a championship for the very same worst human (and embarrassment to all-things-guitar), I'm not sure how I am meant to focus on music this spring. The first time I tried inhalants I envisioned sacrifices as having something or other to do with killing for satan, but in the many years (ok, weeks) since I did those inhalants, I have come to understand that true sacrifice means hard work (ie this radio show) and putting a cause above your own self interests. The second part of that should really be optional, but as the saying goes DON'T MENTION THE SCORE, some of us are recording the greatest radio program of all time while the rest of you are watching the game
This week'd program was recorded, uploaded and published to all of the relevant platforms but I am sorry to say the the entire episode had to be taken down due to some unfortunate remarks by the host (ie. me). In the aftermath of Monday’s WNBA’s draft, I suggested that one very prominent player (whose name I will not type because I am tired of having my car keyed) “couldn’t be bothered to get dressed up for the event”. Well, as many of you have been all too happy to inform me, said superstar-to-be, was in fact, custom outfitted for the event by PRADA. There’s an old saying in the online radio game — if your aesthetic is Modells discount bin (see above) YOU DON’T GET TO EVER TALK ABOUT WHAT ANYONE ELSE IS WEARING. I’ll try to keep in that mind going forward. Also, I’ll try to stop bragging about having a car.
This week we bid a not-so-fond farewell to "Coronation Street"'s Mason Radcliffe who appears to be headed for stretch in the stoney lonesome following his conviction on bullying & weapons charges. With any luck, the small screen will no longer be graced by this paragon of abject dipshittery, with his zombie knives, ,his selling-vapes-to-children side hustle and his Richard Spencer haircut. To call this colossal schmuck the modern day Eddie Haskell is giving him and the show's creator's far, far too much credit. May Radcliffe's prison stay be ENDLESS and when he eventually returns to Weatherfield, no doubt he'll be portrayed by another thespian, hopefully someone who's range is a tad deeper than "look like a complete asshole, 24/7"
This week's program --- while exceptional musically, as always --- finds your host remiss in acknowledging the passing of comedic titan JOE FLAHERTY, whose 8 year run as a cast member and writer for SCTV established such indelible characters as Guy Caballero, Sammy Maudlin and Count Floyd. That Flaherty's finest moments are currently unavailable on any streaming platform is not exactly the injustice of the century (this one or the last one), but it has to be considered somewhere in the top 25 injustices of the century. Making a list of those injustices and/or taking a listener poll is the sort of thing another, far more popular program is likely to trade in and I hope you enjoy the suspense (when playing someone else's show).
When I began this program nearly 4 years ago, I had some pretty lofty aspirations. With the world engulfed in a horrific pandemic, it was up to someone (ME) to address to looming paucity of online radio shows(the CDC won’t admit it, but we were in danger of falling to fewer than one show per member of the adult population). As much as it was quickly obvious this endeavor was going to raise the medium to new heights (or at the very least go from a medium to an extra large), I don’t think I ever would’ve imagined my many friends and associates would shell out for a congratulatory message from NCISfanatic.com. It doesn’t get much more humbling, though you’ve got nearly 4 years to arrange something for episode 400 (preferably ANYTHING else)
Not since the 2013 release of Black Flag's 'What The...' has semi-prominent album release featured cover art nearly as diabolical as Sebastian Bach's forthcoming 'Child Within The Man', though spare a thought for the original designer who misheard his instructions and delivered a sleeve bearing the title, 'Man Within The Child', which for obvious reasons would not fly. Nearly 5000 recycled jackets later, here we are with a printed cover which is deeply confusing (as opposed to highly offensive). Analysis of the aesthetic atrocity in question takes up much of this week's program, though you'll be pleased or relieved to know none of the music is featured. Not for the usual rights clearance issues, mind you, I misplaced the album on the "Bach" shelf and now i can't find it anywhere.
Much as I thoroughly enjoy Fabio's "Strength Thru Failure" program on WFMU each week, I was a little concerned during yesterday's fund raising broadcast when the host sought to characterize his audience as "great listeners". Pandering aside, I could not help but wonder, HOW GREAT ARE THEY REALLY? Take this show for instance. I am sure each of you has some remarkable attributes and maybe there's a small percentage that could realistically be called "great". But great listeners? Great at listening? I've been incorporating subliminal messages in The Radio Hour That Feels Like Two Hours for nearly 200 episodes, and not one of you has followed my instructions when it comes to transferring money from your bank account to mine. No one has done my bidding and sought to slay or dismember any of my enemies. If i want snacks I HAVE TO GO TO THE STORE. At best, you're all mediocre listeners, maybe not even that.
as we're in the run up to that trade fair to end all trade fairs, South By Southwest, I've been made aware that some artists are boycotting the event due to SXSW's ties to Ray Of Today. While fully respecting the right of any performers, established or not, to make their own decisions, it's hard for me to understand the depth of animus toward Mr. Cappo. I mean, last time i checked yoga seemed universally popular. Sure, raw foodism isn't for everyone but it's not as though healthy eating is a prerequisite for enjoying the music of Youth Of Today or Shelter (contrary to popular belief, no one ever had a kebab knocked out of their hands at a Youth Of Today show, though that might have more to do with no one serving or selling kebabs at the venue). Everyone has to do what they believe is right but this seems a little hysterical, and you won't find a bigger critic of SXSW than me (save for Victor Wembanyama whose Austin showcase is scheduled for the day EVERYONE GOES HOME, WTF) (UPDATE : OK, it seems this has nothing to do with Ray Of Today and it’s all about RAYTHEON’s presence at SXSW. Which is a different matter entirely. Please ignore the post above, though I do think there’s a lot to be said for exploring raw foodism)
Not to put myself on too high a pedestal, but I tend to think of this program as a public service (you're welcome). And I'm sure many of you have been wondering, "is it possible to fully comprehend the plot twists and intricate character studies of 'The Equalizer 3' if I've not seen 'The Equalizer 2'?" Well, i think that is a very fair question and it poses even more questions. For instance, presumably things were equalized at the conclusion of "The Equalizer", then thrown into a state of unequality following "The Equalizer 2". Without giving away the twist ending, I'm here to assure you that with the resolution of "The Equalizer 3", once again, we have achieved EQUALITY. And by we, I of course mean fictitious persons in a made-up world. Here back on earth, the boot remains on the neck of those oppressed and anyone daring to stand up for them will continue to be gas lit,, slurred or much, much worse. Fun (?) fact : a ways back Denzel was top billed in a not so wonderful star vehicle called "Man On Fire", and no one questioned his or the filmmakers' mental health. As though some of you assholes have ever cared about the mental health of anyone besides yourself.
The month of February has been almost a total wash for me — creatively, personally, professionally, you name it. I’ve spent so many hours watching the Old Country Buffet Training Video — analyzing it, looking for easter eggs, finding inconsistencies, etc. that everything else in my life has gone down the fucking toilet. While the rest of you were enjoying the Super Bowl, Valentine’s Day, President’s Day, etc., I was mesmerized by the Old Country Buffet Training Video. And I still am. I realize that my friends, family and colleagues are at a breaking point with my behavior, but the sad truth is THEY JUST DON’T GET IT. Just the other day my significant other told me that I “really needed help” and she couldn’t be more right. I need help finding a 25th hour of the day in which I can watch the Old Country Buffet Training Video.
TWO HOURS OF TEDDY PENDERGRASS....would have been a far more romantic option for this week's program, however after recording all-Teddy sets for the last 3 Valentine's Day, I have been served with a cease & desist notice from the Pendergrass estate. Which I intend to honor.
Not to be outdone by Elon Musk funding Gina Carano’s lawsuit against Disney, Peter Thiel has offered to back my litigation against Light In The Attic charging full price for a bent-corner copy of Les Rallizes Denudes’ ‘Cittá 93’. It seems a little unnecessary, to be honest. If not the equivalent of blowing up an ant hill with a nuclear bomb, than at the very least exploding a gopher hole with a GBU-43/B Massive Ordnance Air Blast. Maybe you don’t think that’s a helpful analogy and I can’t help but be curious what sort of weaponry credentials you possess that are SO MUCH MORE impressive than mine. This is the sort of dispute that can only be settled by someone with more money than god trying to sue you out of existence over a slight real or imagined (in this case, absolutely imagined but I’ve got a long list of real ones, too).
a faulty microphone cable briefly derailed my long story about boring a fellow airline passenger with an even longer story about Boston's DMZ (or more to the point, my DMZ shirt) yesterday. The entire experience left me so disoriented and disillusioned, I misidentified Peter Greenberg as "Jeff Greenberg". I apologize to all listeners (and Peter Greenberg) for the lack of professionalism. I would consider apologizing (again) to my fellow travelersfor delaying their exit from the plane while I continued to talk about DMZ but in retrospect it seems a bit rude that not one of them bothered to thank me for letting them know DMZ's 1978 Sire debut is readily available on Discogs for a rather modest price. There's so many things that have gone wrong with air travel these days and with the possible exception of the side of the plane suddenly opening up and sucking out passengers, IMPATIENCE WHILE I AM DISCUSSING DMZ is at the very top of the list. #unfriendlyskies
there was a considerable amount of frustration last week following the announcement a media outlet that at one time seemed part of the fabric of everyone’s routine was essentially being shut down by ownership. And while I would never applaud anyone losing their jobs, in the case of The Hard Times, yeah, this was a moment for celebration. Fuck that unfunny pseudo-Onion-putting-the-tired-in-satire fucking garbage. If you ever sent me a link to that shit or posted one FOR SHAME. In the overall scheme of “Hard Times”, here’s how they’re ranked : 1) Dusty’s oft-imitated / never equalled promo 2) Walter Hill’s 1975 film starring Charles Bronson as a barnstorming bare-knuckle fighter 3) every other use of the phrase “Hard Times” or the words “hard” and “times” appearing on the same page or screen 4) the website, The Hard Times. (As it stands, the outlet in question turned out to be Sports Illustrated. RIP FOOTBALL PHONE)
There’s an old saying in the streaming radio business ; you have forever to organize your first show, but you only have 1330 days to prepare for your 190th. I’m no making excuses, far from it. I’ve always been the type to embrace a challenge, even with the clock ticking, so to speak. And I’m pretty sure I’d not be able to successfully complete such monumental tasks were it not for the example and inspiration provided by Dave Draiman’s PR team, whom never, ever, take a week off. Kind of like me.
I am going to assume most of you heard about the host of a recent (bullshit) awards show bombing so badly his name will now be forever associated with BOMBING BADLY. While I would not watch such a program even if you paid me $300 (though might reconsider for $350), I am not without empathy for this person as his profession is quite difficult. I only know one joke (it's the one about the guy tied to a tree in the middle of nowhere who is found by a state trooper) and no one has ever laughed at it. Even when I explain I didn't write it, people are still furious at me for telling it (provided they can stay awake for the conclusion) and that's why this program will continue to be a HUMOR-FREE ZONE.
2024 resolutions for the show 1) as I’ve been bereft of ideas for at least 3 years, lean on @bogstandard2 for all programming decisions (he’s responsible of this week’s Su Lyn selection) 2) when Mark runs out of ideas in 4-5 weeks, segue to an ALL-FANG FORMAT. Nothing but Fang, every show. 3) after the initial FANG BUMP, listenership will drop to the low double digits at which point I’ll announce a lengthy sabattical with a cryptic tweet (ok, “X”) simply reading “FANGS FOR THE MEMORIES” and that’s it. Everything else is fine and why fuck with perfection.
Prior to the taping of the LAST EPISODE OF 2023, I photographed the automotive monstrosity above in the parking lot of East 7th Street's H.E.B. and decided to hang around for a bit in order see what sort of person would willingly own such a thing. I'll admit, I had my own preconceptions. Perhaps it was a Tesla exec looking to create a "viral" moment. Or maybe it would be someone who'd come into a windfall after excelling in their chosen field (ie. social media director for Whirr). No such luck and I think you're gonna be floored when I reveal the ID of the car's owner, but if you can correctly name the motorist in question, you'll win 2 tickets for New Year's Eve at Hotel Vegas (second prize is 4 tickets for New Year's Eve at Hotel Vegas)
this week’s show is devoted to identifying which product —if any — can be called “the Furby of Xmas 2023” (actual Furbies made in 2023 are ineligible as they’re substantially less popular than The Replacements ‘Tim’ remixes box, currently half off at online retail because everyone knows if you get one for a kid you’ll be done for child abuse). Apparently it’s someone or something called a Squishmallow and learning this is not dissimilar to my reading that some alleged a-lister has just been accused or charged with something heinous. I mean, I still have no idea who Artie Hammer is. That’s the great thing about listener phone calls — aside from how 99% of you have faces made for (internet) radio — every week is an education.
Dear Friends,presumably you've seen or read about the TikTok manifesto recited by a semi-popular recording artist deeply aggrieved over the somewhat muted launch for a new recording project. Please understand that while I've not seen the rant or heard the album in question, I wholeheartedly applaud any and all efforts to BLAME THE AUDIENCE (especially if takes the heat off long-suffered recording companies). And yeah, I RELATE. BIG TIME. Much the way an exceedingly talented singer-songwriter has seen years of hard work almost entirely ignored upon release, week after week I produce the GREATEST RADIO PROGRAMS of this or any era and you motherfuckers (to paraphrase Alan Partridge) would rather hear a podcast about Dan the Dagger man from Dagenham. For as long as I can possibly remember, The Customer Has Always Been Wrong and if calling out those wrongs is wrong, I don't wanna be right. Fuck, I need to lie down for a little while.
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