Chapter 3: Radio as Collective Improvisation

March 14, 2020

When we arrived at WFHB, around 4:45 p.m., we were alone save for the sounds of pre-produced programming running out of MegaSeg,[1] a piece of radio programming and automation software the station had installed in late November 2017 to streamline the process for playing recorded programs, which programmers had previously had to manually play out of iTunes, often leading to slight temporal imprecisions (i.e., it was difficult for a human hand to start a program at the exact second the new hour began). MegaSeg had at that point been a small part of WFHB’s operations; most participants had minimal familiarity with its workings. Automation, after all, was something that seemed antithetical to our mission of featuring community voices and decisions. With COVID-19 now confirmed in Indiana, though, Jar had decided to try and set it up to run 24 hours a day so that programmers could stay physically apart from one another, thus keeping the disease from spreading through station spaces and practices.

While Bloomington had yet to confirm a COVID-19 case, anecdotal reports of potential cases were already locally present. Given the limits of testing resources at that point, many chose to err strongly on the side of caution in making decisions about social contact; indeed, the first confirmed case in the county would turn out to be that of an IU student who first came to the campus health center with their symptoms on March 13 (Sullivan 2020). Out of an abundance of caution, WFHB station staff had thus already been implementing protocols to reduce possible transmission of the virus, some of which are pictured in Figures 3.2-3.4.

In addition to general MegaSeg maintenance, Jar had two main goals in coming to the station on March 14. The easier of the two was to produce a recorded message explaining the shift from live programming to automation to our listeners and reminding them how much we needed their financial support, especially as we were approaching what would ordinarily have been our spring fund drive period. Jar worked on this first, writing a concise script explaining the above and assuring listeners that we would continue to provide prompt news coverage even without employees in the building. Working in the smaller of the station’s two production rooms, he recorded himself reading the message:

This is WFHB general manager Jar Turner. In consideration of our dedicated volunteers, WFHB is temporarily suspending all live programming except for breaking reports and live coronavirus updates from the WFHB news department. Please consider supporting WFHB during this difficult time by making an online donation at WFHB dot ORG.

He edited this atop a minute-long excerpt of Duke Ellington’s “C Jam Blues” (from Blues in Orbit, 1958), giving the otherwise somber message a bed of midtempo warmth.[2]

Figure 3.2: Board in WFHB’s entrance lobby encouraging social distancing, regular hand sanitizing, and avoiding eating in the studio.

Figures 3.3-3.4: The WFHB kitchenette became a sanitization station for equipment. Left (3.3): A container of bleach solution for dipping microphone windscreens and instructions on how to make more. Right (3.4): Windscreens drying alongside dishes.

The second task was more complex and, as it turned out, far more improvised than expected. Earlier that day, Sharon Scott, the general manager of Louisville, Kentucky-based community radio station WXOX/ARTxFM had reached out to Jar with an idea. Singer-songwriter Jonathan Richman, founder of 1970s-80s proto-punk project the Modern Lovers, and Louisville-based singer-songwriter and WXOX volunteer programmer Will Oldham, better known in his music career as Bonnie “Prince” Billy, had decided to cancel what was to be that night’s Louisville show and the rest of their tour together due to COVID-19. Instead, they would perform a set at WXOX. Sharon offered Jar the chance to simultaneously broadcast, or simulcast, the set on WFHB. To do this, we would need to stream their online signal from our station computer and send it directly to our own airwaves and webstream. This was a mutually beneficial opportunity; the stations could cross-promote each other, and WFHB could have live content on a Saturday night on which more people than usual were likely staying home instead of going out to other events.

This ended up being a more difficult task than anticipated. Just before 6 p.m., as the WXOX live set was supposed to begin, Jar and I found that we could not access the other station’s webstream, which was extremely limited in its bandwidth and could only support 50 listeners at once. Jar kept Sharon up to date on the situation via text as we frantically refreshed their streaming service in attempts to connect; Sharon used social media and reached out to her personal network via text asking people to try closing the stream so that WFHB could load it, pointing out that anyone on the WXOX stream could just as easily stream WFHB once the simulcast began. By the time the syndicated shows ended, WXOX was still at capacity. Jar threw long instrumental tracks onto the WFHB airwaves, drawing from a collection of such pieces he kept on MegaSeg to fill similarly unexpected dead air. They were aptly named for such purposes: “Dystopia” and “System Malfunction,” both by Bill Laswell.

Finally, we succeeded in accessing the stream. Jar notified Sharon, we faded out the Laswell music, and Jonathan Richman and Bonnie “Prince” Billy filled the next two hours with music and conversation over the airwaves of both Louisville and southern Indiana. I learned after the fact that WXOX had not only allowed us to simulcast but, upon learning of our technical difficulties, waited to let Richman and Oldham begin until Sharon knew we finally had access to the stream. While the simulcast benefitted both WFHB and WXOX, it was nonetheless a caring act on the latter station’s part to wait until WFHB could participate. A new radio community emerged in not only the musicians’ live performance, but in its deviation from the planned schedule, in hastily thrown-on dub tracks, in true and sometimes chaotic acts of improvisation.

As soon as the live performance ended, “C Jam Blues” began, the first iteration of Jar’s announcement of live programming suspension. We left soon after. Along with most other WFHB personnel, I would not physically set foot in the station again until the summer of 2021.

[1] At the time, our Saturday lineup before Youth Radio included local music interview program Beyond a Song and nationally syndicated blues history program Beale Street Caravan.

[2] Audio embedded in companion webpage.