Baby's getting anxious; the hour's getting late
It was just another night doing my show at WFMU, but something was wrong. Horribly wrong. The song that I was playing was getting perilously close to ending, and I hadn't cued up my next song yet. I knew exactly what I wanted to play, but for some reason the CD itself was eluding me.
My heart was pounding. I was in a panic. WHERE WAS THAT CD?!?! I KNOW that I pulled it before I went into the studio to start my show. I'd stake my life on it -- and, in the moment, it feels like that is in fact what's at stake. Looming in the corner of the studio, and getting closer with every second counting down on the CD player, is every DJ's mortal enemy: the Grim Reaper of dead air.
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