Born on Labor Day, 2004, Evening Melancholy has managed to hang on for five years, despite the fact that competition and fluctuating tastes have slightly diminished listenership.

I started the Evening Melancholy radio station back in ‘04 basically for two reasons. I had just seen Zach Braff’s movie Garden State, and for some inexplicable reason, it had a profound effect on me at that time. I kept thinking to myself, this guy is younger than me and yet, he created something that he can be proud of, something that had such a positive effect on so many people. I want to do that. At least, I want to try to accomplish that, and if I fail, at least I know I gave it my best effort.

During the time of Evening Melancholy’s creation, I was also involved in a relationship with someone who suffered from depression. In my mind, I thought I had an idea of what depression was and the effect it can have on a person and the people who love that person. I really had no idea. Depression is a debilitating disease that can’t simply be cured by sunshine and rainbows and good intentions. It can have a crippling effect on the sufferer and if you are in love with those who suffer from it, it can cripple you as well.

So, my initial intention with the station was (as the mission once stated) to provide empathy through music as well as provide links to various sites that spoke to and provided guidance for depression. Eventually, though, I just focused on the music because I realized that the disease was so much bigger than me and a few arbitrary links to websites just didn’t cut it. The links are gone, but the empathy is still there.

Many have written me over the past five years and said that while the music itself was melancholy, the feelings the music evoked were often buoyant and rejuvenating. I find it interesting that the majority of EM’s listeners are from outside the United States. It’s a great feeling, connecting with someone halfway across the world through music. It’s a great feeling to receive an email from someone who said they turned on the station and found the music so enticing, they stopped what they were doing, grabbed their wife’s hand and began dancing around their kitchen. Positive effect achieved.

So, thanks to all the listeners out there who have stuck around. Thanks for all the emails and well wishes. Yes, some have drifted away and the small group of us who adore these jazz/vocal ballad evergreens has grown even smaller, but…as long as there is someone out there to listen, Evening Melancholy will soldier on.

Love you guys!

The station is back on the air for standard listeners

To all my standard listeners out there, I am having technical difficulty issues (Live 365 is having technical difficulties to be exact), and you will not be able to log on and listen right now. I am working with technical support to get this issue rectified.

In the meantime, you can go here to listen. Use IE, Firefox won’t cut it for this link. It seems VIP listeners are able to log on without any trouble.

Sorry for the inconvenience and thanks for the heads up.

Over the last few weeks or so I have been repeatedly listening to Hank Mobley’s version of “There’s a Lull in My Life” from the A Slice of the Top cd. I’ve heard this song many times before, but for some reason, recently, I’ve really been listening to it. Beautiful. Nevermind the fact that this tune could also be the title of my autobiography (actually, life ain’t too bad right now). Not sure why, but it took me up until now to recognize the real beauty of the tune, the melody and Mobley’s tone. Truly knocks me out.

I could meet the most hideous woman with the most odious personality and disposition, and if we met while this song was playing, I’m sure I’d almost want to take her Broom Hildaish face in my hands and place a loving peck right on her hairy warted face.

I’ve placed the song on the Evening Melancholy MySpace page for all who doubt my veracity. You may completely disagree with me, but at least I got you to listen. :o)

Because I don’t have his email to offer personal thanks, I wanted to at least write a brief post, thanking Tony Garciella for his generous contribution to Evening Melancholy. The donation was not expected but is sincerely appreciated. Mr. Garciella’s donation puts a nice little dent in the cost to run the station and with the economy being as crappy as it is, I appreciate the sacrifice even more.

Thanks again, Mr. Garciella!