WFMU’s youngest DJ was introduced to PJ Harvey, Nirvana and Red Hot Chili Peppers–in the womb. Says the sixteen-year-old (source NY Mag):

I’ve loved music since I was in my mom’s tummy, dancing to Red Hot Chili Peppers, Nirvana, and PJ Harvey. As a kid, I had such a tight obsession with certain songs my dad made a two-song tape: “Ain’t Nuthin’ But a She Thing,” by Salt-N-Pepa, and “Baby It’s You,” by the Shirelles. I would sit there and be like, “Again! Again!”

My friends growing up were doing stuff in this new DIY all-ages scene. I e-mailed WFMU off-the-cuff with an idea for a show about that, and after a listener hour and two auditions, they gave me a Sunday-Monday overnight slot.

I would spend the whole weekend preparing—asking bands to send their music, making the playlist, preparing everything I wanted to say. Then I would go to sleep at 6 p.m. and wake up at 1, so I wouldn’t be a zombie. The show would end at 6 a.m., and I’d go straight to school.

Now I’m on Sunday mornings, three to six. There’s something so awesome about being up that late. It’s morning in Europe, and my biggest audience is there. Once during a listener fund-raising marathon I got a $3,000 pledge over the Internet from this guy Frederic from France. He said, “One night I asked you how you came to be who you are and you said, ‘I was raised by atheist punks.’ That comment made me love you. I set my alarm to listen to your show, and I haven’t set my alarm since before you were born.” How awesome is that!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GyEkvqtHPs

brought up in the ever amusing JoPo comments

from failblog (of course)

It’s been about 20 years since I’ve been to an Omaha City Council meeting, and in that time nothing has changed about the council chambers — the paneled décor, the dirty upholstered chairs, the institutional florescent lighting. The place even smells the same, a mixture of dust, mildewed paper, Brylcreem, toilet bowl deodorant and bureaucracy.

We saw Anticon sensation Why? at the Knitting Factory on Saturday. His sardonic nasal-whine reminded me of Soul Coughing minus the free jazz. I enjoyed it, notwithstanding the drunk 19-year olds to our left, shouting along with the words and trying to start a mosh pit in the shoulder-to-shoulder space. We moved over to be closer to more subdued oldsters like ourselves, but the kids’ ridiculous chant, “Thank God for Myspace” still resonates; because ten years ago perhaps this show would’ve only been filled with the college-radio crowd, and not nearly as packed. Or maybe I’m just getting too Andy Rooney…

Got home too late for SNL, but instead watched a rerun on E!, hosted by a svelte Britney Spears with a baby-faced, pre-Super Bowl Timberlake cameo. Weekend update allowed us to pinpoint the episode to early February 2002, and thus was spawned possibly my first “historical” look on a post-9/11 world. Bush had just given his “axis of evil” speech and had an 85% approval rating. Like Britney, Bush looked so much younger, not yet beaten down by the past six years. Indeed, their career paths have taken a remarkably parallel trajectory, and with them America in some respects.

While someone gathers the data on these shared fates, I’ll leave you with this gem from that same SNL episode that I’d never seen, a brilliant Tracy Morgan clip.

Also you probably don’t recognize this video.

{via , via}

via Maud.

bonus points for making me wonder if I say “cray-on” or “cran”. I think something closer to “cran”, but not quite.