Kevin Slick: Home

I just heard that CIty Lights record store in State College, PA will be closing soon. I spent a lot of time in that store checking out albums (yes, the vinyl kind), tapes, CDs, books and magazines. Greg, the owner of the shop, was like a master of ceremonies as he presided over the scene. He could direct you towards music you were bound to like because he knew your tastes in recordings. It was like the human version of the "People who bought... also like" links that appear when you buy online. I suppose buying online is one of the reasons why City Lights and numerous other independent record stores are closing their doors. I miss the good old days of going down to CIty Lights and hanging out, but I am not completely nostalgic about those times. These days there is so much more music available to the average consumer. Long ago I used to read about a release and spend weeks or months trying to track down a copy. I did find other great stuff in libraries and enjoyed trips to larger cities to search in bigger stores but overall it was just more work. I know that many artists who work in niche genres are able to sell much more music now online. I used to sell my indie releases at City Lights and now they sell all over the world on iTunes and other online download shops. So overall, there is much that has improved for musicians as well as fans. So what do I miss?
I miss the human interaction. More often than not I'd not buy anything at the record shop, but would hang out and talk music with Greg or any number of other patrons who were in the shop. I miss seeing bands play live, being able to sit two feet away from Greg Ginn flailing away on his guitar was amazing. I think that online retailing of music has many more benefits for the fan and the creator of the music but it misses the human interaction and connection.
Maybe the future will bring coffeehouses or listening centers that are primarily for gathering with other fans of recorded sound. I don't feel bad about buying a CD from a band on it's website, but I miss having a great place to hang out.

I'm back on the air. In case you didn't know I worked in radio for about ten years on the air and as a writer and producer. I grew up listening to the radio in the 1960s and 70s. I would sleep out in my treehouse on summer nights and listen to the magic sounds drifting in through the two inch speaker on my radio with the antenna pointed to the stars. Cousin Brucie would speak to me from New York City, I'd hear the sound of Philly Soul on WFIL, CKYW would come in all the way from Canada. There was the "Groovology" show on the local station WMAJ, not to mention the wonderful sound of baseball games on radio. Even today, the sound of a crowd in the background and the slow measured cadance of an announcer describing the pitcher's preperation for the next pitch is one of the most beautiful sounds I know. And yet, as much as I loved the experience I don't recall that it was a dream of mine to be on the air. I was probably more interested in being a rock and roll guitar player (which I also got to do as a full time job for several years) I stumbled into radio actually. My friend Ron Adams was already working for radio stations in State College, PA, my hometown and he eventually pulled me into doing commercials or small bits on the air reading the weather etc. Soon after that, with art teaching jobs in short supply, I found myself working full time on the air. My last regular broadcast was in 1991 and while I've missed the excitement of the medium, I haven't missed the stressful, uncreative world that radio was becoming even in my last days on the air. Fast forward to 2009, the same Ron Adams now owns a station in the lovely, small town of Ligonier PA and since it's automated, or pre-recorded it means that I can "do" a show even from my home in Colorado. A good microphone, digital recording and the internet are all that's needed. So tune me in sometime on AM 1620 in the Laurel Valley of Pennsylvania or at www.ligonierradio.com on the internet 12 midnight to 5am Eastern Time Mondays through Fridays.

When in the course of human music making it becomes necessary to seperate a band from the name it has previous used etc. You know how it goes. For over a year now I've played with two other musicians as the Slick Allen Trio, three people - trio, everyone's last name was either Slick or Allen, made sense, but also sounded too much like a jazz trio to me so we've changed our name to Big Sky Radio. Well, what does Big Sky Radio sound like? I'd love to know. For now you can find us at www.myspace.com/bigskyradio and on Facebook as well. I'm still here and if you're here that means you've found me.