Posted by: Justin Grotelueschen on May 22, 2008 11:22 AM | Comments (0)

Hello all Transom-ers: this is Justin, a Bostonite who primarily has made an appearance on these pages during this fabulous time of year known as May to us in the states and Deep Wireless month to our international neighbors to the north. I'm once again embarking on a road trip across New England, through Buffalo and across the border, eventually landing in the fabulous city of Toronto in time for the opening salvo of Radio Without Boundaries. It's a lot of car time to get there, but much appreciated time with colleagues who will be prepping mentally for their first weekend-long experience of experimental radio immersion. This being my third fest, I don’t need anyone else to pump me up for what I’m about to experience: it's not only forever burned into my memory, but has become a part of my way of life.

My first Radio Without Boundaries came in 2003, while I was still in graduate school and had been living in the Boston area for less than a year. I had come east from the Midwest USA in part because of all the great radio being produced in New England, having spent the previous five years working in college, public, and community radio in Nebraska. Then working on a radio project at Harvard and researching radio festivals around the world, I happened on RWB and knew I had to find a way to get there. I talked Harvard into sending me that year, and I didn’t have to work hard to convince Ben Walker (who blogged RWB for Transom that year) that he should join.

We hopped in a car one dreary Friday morning in late May, and after ten-plus hours of wheeling (New York, as a state, turned out to be much bigger than I thought), with an extra chaotic half-hour of getting lost in Toronto tacked on for good measure (accidentally discarded directions, a suitcase that decided to break at the worst possible moment, jumping in and out of the car in the pouring rain), we arrived in time to have missed the conference check-in. Still not understanding the scope of the conference – How many people showed up here? WHO was here? Were they here for the same reasons as we were? – we finally made our way to our campus lodging to get fresh and head to a festival-related event at a downtown bar that night. Shimmying through a crowd at the entrance of a dark bar, we moved to the edge of a silent crowd transfixed on the players on the stage warming into a Radio-a-Mock, a mock radio show about a world gone amok. About twenty minutes into the performance, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face – I still didn’t know what I had gotten into, but I knew I had made the right choice to get myself into it. The rest of the night was a blur, as all transformative nights are – I remember Gregory Whitehead on stage leading the audience in a cult-like chant, chatting up Jim Metzner between acts, and falling in love during a vocal performance by Susanna Hood. When the lights came up to kill the muted glow in that small space almost two hours later, I remember the sense of comfort and place I felt. I already was enamored with RWB, and I hadn’t even been to a session yet.

As I settled into the routine for the rest of the weekend – meeting Nadene and the wonderful festival staff, engaging in the conference sessions, getting to know the fellow attendees and presenters, letting my eyes and ears gorge everything about the nightly performances, sucking in the energy of those Toronto nights – I was entertaining this cornucopia of feelings, ideas, inspirations that I never wanted to part with. I felt connected to our radio ancestors; RWB broke down barriers in my brain between what radio was and what it could be and was meant to be in my life, both as a creator and a listener. But conferences can’t go on forever, and I had to accept my reality and make my way back home. Begrudgingly packing myself into the tiny rental and the long trip back to Boston, I already knew then what I know now: I wasn’t leaving anything behind. My DNA had been altered. Not only will I forever in my life associate Canada and great radio -- perhaps a naive correlation as great radio can be made anywhere, but (hopefully) not an offensive one – but more importantly will associate my first RWB with my own “radio awakening”. Considering how important radio has been in my life so far, I can’t think of a much higher compliment.

Leading up to, during, and after the festival, I'll once again try my best to convey how it feels to be engrossed in this experience, and not just for the third time. It’s a new festival, a new time, and no doubt another awakening.

More from Deep Wireless 2008 :
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