Air heads: Islanders ride the waves
Monday, 4:40 pm: There's a hushed jumble of noises - squeaking stools, rustling papers, the muted thumps of fingers on microphones as they're being adjusted.
It begins. Sam Griswold's voice, fast-paced, in full radio-voice timber, introduces the radio show he is co-hosting with Farley Glavin. (Taylor Ives, who's been joining them lately, is out today.) Farley enthusiastically invites listeners to call in to join the discussion or request songs, reciting WVVY's phone number.
Photo by Sam Decker
"That's 001, obviously, for our international callers," Sam facetiously adds. "Lots to get to today - as usual." Fade to music: "Two Weeks" by Brooklyn band Grizzly Bear.
Strangely, it does seem somehow plausible that this still unnamed show, which airs Mondays from (around) 4:30 to 6 pm on WVVY 93.7, Martha's Vineyard Community Radio, Inc., could appeal to a worldwide audience.
The show, divided evenly between music and discussion, is fast-paced, upbeat, and often hilarious. It couldn't be further removed from the awkward pauses and nerdy obscurities that can characterize community or college radio. Although many of the DJs' jokes are aimed at Vineyarders, the segments are inventive and accessible. Their music choices - mostly new indie-pop - indicate a preference for catchy songs over esoteric ones.
It's immediately evident that Sam, Farley, and Taylor, all Islanders in their early 20s, are good friends. But the show's success is a result of the differences, rather than whatever similarities exist between them. Sam assumes the persona of a seasoned sports announcer, capable of analyzing pretty much anything from the Brooklyn music scene to West Tisbury town politics. Farley finds his niche in the coolly oblivious. His analysis is noticeably sparse, and unlike Sam, he paces himself - an exaggerated and simplified version of himself.
Sam: "Opinion on conservative intellectuals. Shoot."
Farley: "I think they're fine."
Sam (sarcastically): "Interesting points."
The casual asides, offbeat humor, and affectionate squabbling all contribute to the show's feeling of coordinated disarray - it seems thrown together, which is most likely what they're aiming for.