Hi friends,
This week, we’re remembering William Orbit, who recently died at 70.
Before Ray of Light and 13, William was already part of KCRW’s late-night world through his experimental series Stereo Odyssey. Chris Douridas helped bring those broadcasts to the station, and this week he shares the story behind them.
You can also read KCRW’s tribute to William Orbit.
– Ale
In the '90s, while I was Music Director at KCRW, one of the more creative aspects of the job was creating the on-air line-up of music shows. I've always felt my strongest contribution to the station in those early days was bringing some beautiful talents to the air — Jason Bentley, Liza Richardson, Anne Litt, Garth Trinidad, Gary Calamar, Tricia Halloran, Beth Halper. But I suspect few people remember what we did during the overnight hours.
As a kid growing up in Chicago, my bedroom was in the basement of our suburban townhouse. I have fond memories of staying up past my bedtime with my little transistor radio on the pillow next to me, listening for distant signals and odd music programming. While WXRT was the FM station that fed me the latest cool new releases, the AM dial intrigued me the most. Slowly scanning the dial, you could stumble upon incredible soundscapes. If the radio tuner landed just right, between two signals, you could get an overlap of, say, an anxious news report from Eastern Europe, and a dreamy '50s country classic, heard through ribbons of static. It was otherworldly, and I loved it.
This was the idea behind a couple of late-night radio experiments we toyed with in the '90s: Shortwave, a show hosted by Bruno Guez, and The International Radio Exchange, which allowed me to commission programming from like-minded radio stations and cool music curators from around the world. We aired programs from Radio Nova in Paris, bFM in New Zealand, and Gilles Peterson in London.
But none of these ideas truly captured the concept until William Orbit's Stereo Odyssey.
In 1996, William was already an icon to us, largely due to his collaborative work with Beth Orton, his inventive, ambient dance project Bass-o-matic (Set The Controls For The Heart of the Bass, 1990), and his series of solo projects, released under the banner Strange Cargo. This was years before the world would know him as the producer of Madonna's Ray of Light (1998) and Blur's landmark album 13 (1999).
It was around this time that William and I colluded on launching an exclusive late-night series for KCRW. The show would be an experiment: a sound collage inspired by late-night shortwave radio signals, blending ambient sonics, vintage movie dialogue, old vinyl, and William's own musical output, much of which had never been heard elsewhere. William Orbit's Stereo Odyssey.
The shows were brilliant.
What I remember most — he was always tweaking 'til the last minute. I'd call him each week to see that he got the next show to FedEx on time. A lot of close calls, but we never missed a show. Of course, it was always worth the wait.
– Chris Douridas
