Meg says: I heard this story about an amazing radio show host called Bob Fass who had a late night talk show in New York in the 60’s. Fass’ life story in itself is fascinating (no pun intended), but there was a particular radio show that especially moved me. A man called in and confessed he had taken an overdose in order to end his life. This song is about the conversation between them and how the story unfolded.
Fin says: I like shouting WBAI NYC. Try it in a public space. Check out Paul Lovelace and Jessica Wolfson’s fantastic documentary on Bob Fass called Radio Unnameable. I wish we’d watched it before we wrote the song although we had so much wonderful material to work with from Act One Ep 622 of This American Life (Fass Talker… see what they did there?)
There are a few lines in the song that bear further explanation. Bob Fass’ show is called Radio Unnameable but Unnameable Radio sits better on our melody. The character we’re trying to save changes name from verse two into verse three. You did notice that didn’t you? At first Bob and his team thought it was Stanley Kaufmann the New York Times critic and it was only after the police saved him, four hours later (six or eight depending on your source), that they discovered it was Micheal Valenti. Fass had continued playing The Doors “Hello, I Love You” down the line from the WBAI to help the phone company trace the call to his address on 110 E 87th St.
lyrics
Unnameable Radio
WBAI NYC, unnameable radio
Late shift, night owls, on 60th there’s snow
Mr Fass rolling rasp, red light is on
Dim dials, love lorn, play another song
You think you’ll die of a broken heart
Get on the phone
Stand up don’t hang up
Draw you in to trace you
Tuned in to pass on your last lullaby
Live on the wireless
Say life’s overrated
You’re radio waving goodbye
Poor Stanley’s drought ridden all on his own, drowning in despair
Mixed pills, seltzer, slips away in his chair
Let’s count a minute against the dead air
No ginger tiptoes, no victims here
Gave it away, can’t ask for it back
Lay down the phone
Stand up don’t hang up
Draw you in to trace you
Tuned in to pass on your last lullaby
Live on the wireless
Say life’s overrated
You’re radio waving goodbye
Analog dialog the city is listening
In mentioning East Side you gave us a clue
Stop making sense succumb to your poisoning
You’re not off the hook we’re coming to save you
Micheal Valenti is betting his life he’s gambling sedated,
On 87th, keep stalling, the company’s chased it
Empathy specialist microphone weeps
“Hello I Love You” as Micheal falls asleep
It’s not that I don’t want to live
The Doors close the show
Stand up don’t hang up
Draw you in to trace you
Tuned in to pass on your last lullaby
Live on the wireless
Say life’s overrated
You’re radio waving goodbye
credits
from Story Song Scientists,
released March 1, 2019
Findlay Napier - Acoustic Guitars / Vocals
Megan Henwood - Electric Guitars / Vocals
Joe Henwood- Bass
Oxford's Megan Henwood and Glasgow's Findlay Napier met on a songwriting retreat at Snape Maltings, Aldeburgh in
2016.
“Fancy writing a song about maths?” Napier enquired. And so the seed for the Story Song Scientists was sewn.
They have toured this EP across the UK and their 2nd EP will be released alongside their November 2021 tour.
supported by 9 fans who also own “Unnameable Radio”
Well where do you start...its a really exceptional album , every track stands out on its own, well recorded well executed and very well sequenced.. great production a winning trio and all I can say is buy it! superb voices. maz2
Old-fashioned fiddles harmonize with rippling synths on the Scottish singer-songwriter's latest collection of original folk songs. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2022
Collaborating remotely with 12 songwriters from all over the world, Kim Edgar emerged with a work of striking art pop. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 11, 2023
supported by 7 fans who also own “Unnameable Radio”
Thanks for the beautiful music Karine and Dave. it's been a while since I've felt so emotional listening to a new album. Every lyric is so beautifully supported by the piano parts. Laura-Beth Salter