Trent Radio: Unused Memories


As you return to school, Trent Radio returns to the air, with the same regular schedule you started hearing in September.

Our broadcast season runs from September to April, then we destroy it and have a different summer schedule, then we destroy it again and have a different September to April. That continues on into infinity as a kind of perpetual motion audio machine, feeding back on itself and constantly changing.

Speaking of a perpetual motion audio machine, feeding back on itself and constantly changing, let’s talk Audio Art. (Audio Art, where such things are done.)

Below are memories of Trent Radio, binaries, by David Grenon.

Grenon is a superb and strange audio artist who programmes here on Trent Radio when the wind takes him; he’s also part of the local band hello babies. Recently he collaborated with Bill James on the performance art piece “eidolon.”

(1) Moving back to Peterborough after a long absence, I turned on the radio & heard a hoarse-voiced programmer taking a call. The caller could not remember the name of the song requested, but both recalled the tune and together they sang, voices faltering, rising, and drifting off again.

When they’d sung it through, they began to reminisce about long-gone local songwriters and musicians. It was tender and glorious and true.

(2) I mostly remember the weirder people, those kind and awkward avoiders of eyes, disarming in their intense, obscure interests. Late nights with Brion Wagner or with Dahn Mirabelli or with Meagh Culkeen, hauling old electronics into the studio and setting them free, howling away into the microphone, heart afire and that sickness still drifting through the air.

If that isn’t enough about audio art, here’s some FEEDBACK.

The point of such memories, and such articles about them, is to give you a slight glimpse into this little weirder world. Please don’t think of Trent Radio as insular or self-reflexive—bad jokes about radio only go so far—what actually happens at Trent Radio is a whole lot of individuality.

Myself, I can only express that through puns about feedback—but other people have their memories, and even experiences.

Over 100 volunteer programmers are right now living those experiences on Trent Radio.

When you tune into Trent Radio at 92.7 FM, you’ll probably hear some pretty cool stuff, and then hear something upsetting or bizarre fifteen minutes later and turn it off.

Then listen in again for something amazing. That’s the nature of Trent Radio; producer-oriented programming. Anyone can be a producer.

This could be your show… and it continues on into infinity as a kind of perpetual motion audio machine, feeding back on itself and constantly changing. It’s all audio art.

About James Kerr 46 Articles
Sometime in the 1980s young James Kerr placed a peanut butter sandwich in his parent's VCR and was transported to a magical world where he was taught by long-dead ghost druids the secrets of community and radio waves. Returning to this world he became an arcade champ, dungeon master, and perhaps most relevantly the Programme Director of Trent Radio 92.7 fm. His parents had to clean the peanut butter out of the VCR.