You are listening to the Music Is My Life podcast from Berklee Online.
I'm your host, Pat Healy.
And this month I want you to take note of, the Boston Red Sox?
Sure, why not?
It's the beginning of October and the team is in the playoffs,
so we're talking to Fenway Park's organ player Josh Kantor, who also moonlights
as a member of the band The Baseball Project, which includes
members of REM and The Dream Syndicate.
I should point out that Josh also daylights--
can I say that?
Like, the opposite of moonlights.
I'm going to say that.
Let's coin this term.
So he daylights at the Loeb Music Library at Harvard.
So, music is Josh Kantor's life, obviously.
And like many of our guests on this podcast,
it all started with Mom and Dad.
My parents had a lot of great old records,
and they played them all the time.
And that was hugely important for me growing up.
My mom was into a lot of show tunes.
And she was sort of a Beatlemania kid, so she had all the Beatles records.
They both had a lot of folk music, and certainly all the Dylan stuff.
My dad had a lot of great soul and R&B records.
So I was listening to a lot of that.
And then I just was kind of listening to the radio all the time.
I definitely remember-- sort of like my earliest top
40 memory was like the singles from Stevie Wonder Songs in the Key of Life.
That came out in, like, '76, so I would have been about four.
And I remember being really drawn to that, and really excited about that.
And I'm still really drawn to that.
Which, I don't know what that says, but--
because there's some stuff that I was drawn to that
I no longer am, but then some that I am still.
Right.
When did you tell your parents you were interested in playing an instrument?
Or did they--
I started taking piano lessons when I was about five.
And I don't remember if they sort of urged me towards it
or if I'd sort of asked them for it.
I don't remember.
But I do remember that I enjoyed it.
And it was sort of a traditional classical training.
Most of those skills have long since eroded,
in terms of, like, good technique and good facility and good sight-reading
skills, and kind of knowing some of the classical canon.
But I definitely learned a lot of stuff that stuck with me
and served me well later on, and continues
to serve me well-- particularly with regard to music theory.
And I wasn't always the most disciplined player, in terms of practicing.
I think that's probably normal for most kids taking music lessons.
And then around the time that I stopped taking lessons--
I think I was about d that's actually when I really
started to play a lot more.
Basically at that point I just was playing along
with records-- playing along with all those records
that I mentioned that were in my parents' collection.
And playing along with records that I was buying, which was sort of
like '80s top 40 records at that point.
And you were doing this all by ear, or were
you getting sheet music at the local music store?
I was doing it mostly by ear.
I remember I bought like a fake book that had all the Beatles songs in it.
And that was very instructive, because I started
to piece together some connections in terms of how well structured songs are
structured, basically.
Yeah, it was really instructive.
But mostly I was playing by ear.
And I had some ear training through the lessons.
I took a class in high school that was sort of like a music
theory and ear-training class.
And I remember feeling like that was really helpful.
But also, I just was playing all the time.
Like, I was playing before school and I was playing after school.
And if I had a break in the middle of the day during school,
I would go to the practice room and play the piano.
A lot of the people I've talked to have mentioned
the role of the family in their musical upbringing.
And there are times when the parents are, you need to practice more.
And then there are times where, please turn off that music.
Where did your family fall?
When I was very young there was a fair amount of, you should practice more.
But it was the same as, like, you should do your homework,
and you should eat your vegetables, and you should play outside more
and not sit in front of the television.
You know, all those kinds of things-- that sort
of urging that an undisciplined kid might benefit from.
I don't really remember anything that was like, turn down that racket--
at least in terms of the playing.
There may have been times where I was blasting some records way too loud
and my folks would say, turn that down.
But in terms of playing piano, especially
once I reached a sort of basic level of competency,
I think they kind of enjoyed having that sound in the house.
So did you play for your family a lot?
Were your parents like, hey, what don't you do that Beatles song?
A little bit.
I think it mostly was just I was playing independently on my own,
and maybe they were in the next room listening.
And maybe I knew they were listening, maybe
I didn't, but they were listening.
I do remember sometimes--
I think maybe it was in high school, that if they had company over they
might say like, hey, Josh, entertain us.
You know, it was almost like antiquated parlor practice or something.
And then I remember sometimes being interested in doing that.
And then other times feeling like, oh, I don't
want to just be your circus performer, for when your friends come over.
When did you start playing with other people?
In high school I played in a couple of rock bands.
OK, I need names.
Oh my gosh.
I mean, they weren't good bands.
I know, but it's always fun to hear the names.
Exactly.
Well, it was one of those things where like the band name changed every week.
You know, one of the band names that we had that I liked
was called the Flat Earth Society.
And then I'm trying to think of one that I really disliked,
that I'd give as an example.
I can't think of it right now.
But if I think of it I'll let you know.
And what did the Flat Earth Society specialize in?
The Flat Earth Society was--
our frontman was heavily influenced by The Cure and Bauhaus.
And he did most of the songwriting and most of the lyric writing,
so that kind of crept pretty heavily into it.
The other three of us, I would say, were moderately interested in that sound,
but we had other interests.
But he was in charge.
Like, he formed the band, he wrote the songs, he sang.
He had the practice space in his parent's basement.
So it was sort of like his project.
You know, and we were a team.
We were a unit, but we often deferred, I guess, to his taste,
just because it was fun to be in a band--
even if I wasn't necessarily playing the song that I was most excited about.
But it was fun to play.
We did some covers.
We had a few originals.
Somewhere there's a god-awful demo tape in my basement.
Yeah, and then I was in another band for a while.
We were called Train Brake Symphony, because our drummer one
day heard the sound of the subway train make
this horrible screeching, braking noise.
And he said, hey, that sounds like us.
That's great.
And we would play high-school house parties.
And the teen community center would have these fun, alternative,
drug-and-alcohol-free social events for teenagers, on the weekends.
And we'd get booked to play those kinds of things.
That band was more in the vein of classic rock covers.
We had some originals, but they were just
sort of jammy instrumental kinds of things,
is my recollection for the most part.
So with those bands, were those the first times
you started experimenting with different sounds on the keyboard,
rather than just the straight-up piano keyboard?
Or, did you always have?
Yeah, I got a synthesizer, an analog synthesizer in eighth grade.
Oh, wow.
I was really interested.
Yeah, because most people start with, like, the Casios.
Yeah, it was a legit performance.
And it was something--
by the time I was thirteen, I wasn't amazing, but I knew how to play.
And I was reading up on synthesizers.
You know, like I would buy Keyboard Magazine, and I would save my money.
What kind was it?
It was a Roland Juno 106.
Oh, wow.
Those are serious.
Yeah, I mean, I wish I still had it.
It was stolen out of a car about six or seven years later, in Toronto.
[LAUGHS] But it was great.
I learned so much from it.
And my high school offered an electronic music class, that I took,
I think, in 10th grade where we actually had like an old analog ARC
synthesizer from the early '70s where you had to program it
and It was almost like working a switchboard.
Right, where you're plugging the things.
So I learned a lot from that, about how synthesizers work--
like, under the hood, so to speak.
And, how to program them.
And that was a fantastic education.
I don't use a whole lot of that kind of thing nowadays,
but it was great to learn it and understand it.
And we learned sort of the basics of analog four-track recording
in that class.
Where did you go to high school?
Sequencing.
This is great.
Yeah, it's called Evanston High School.
It's right on the Chicago border.
It's just the first town north of Chicago.
It was a big high school, that had good arts education and some good offerings.
And I was interested in that class, and there were a few other people
who were interested in that class.
And there was an instructor who was interested in it, who knew his stuff.
I mean, I think it probably was kind of his vision-- where he was like,
I love this stuff and I would love to teach it.
And then the high school gave him the opportunity to do it.
So, yeah, that was a great experience.
So then when I was playing keyboards in rock bands in high school,
I sort of had--
you know, I had good gear for what we were doing.
And I knew more or less how to use it.
Yeah, it sounds like they had a ringer in their band,
if you were using these big professional synths.
Yeah, I don't know.
I mean, my recollection is that the majority
of the kids that I played in garage bands with in high school
were good players.
And many of them went on to play in other capacities.
Is anyone from the Flat Earth Society still doing it?
There's a fellow named Matt Weston--
he was our bass player.
And he lives out in Albany, New York.
And he is a really talented multi-instrumentalist--
mostly percussionist.
He mostly does a lot of avant-garde, and experimental, and noise music.
But he's made quite a name for himself in that scene.
That's awesome.
Yeah, I'm super proud of him.
I love getting to see him play, whenever he's playing in the Boston area.
So then we move into the college years.
Where did you go to school?
I went to Brandeis, in Waltham, a few miles west of Boston here.
And that was my first time coming to Boston, and I've stayed.
But that was a terrific time for me musically.
I met a lot of people who I still to this day
collaborate with on music and film, and recording, and that kind of thing.
I played in a band that was sometimes good--
and sometimes a big mess and a little strange--
which, looking back, was a fun thing to do.
What was that band called?
That band was-- again, we had several names.
But the one that kind of stuck the longest was Various Artists.
The idea was, we'll make a record some day and it'll be in the record store.
And it'll be in the compilations section under the tab
that says "Various Artists."
That's great.
We never did make the record.
We have some recordings that were in various stages of completion,
and it was fun to do that.
I mean, you could technically say that you've made thousands of records
because there's various artists--
[LAUGHTER]
Yeah, right, everything that says "Various Artists" we have some
claim to.
No, I think-- but that was really fun, and I learned a lot.
And the guitarist in that band is a guy named
Jason Victor, who is a fantastic New York guitarist of some renown.
He's in the reformed lineup of The Dream Syndicate.
He's backed up Alejandro Escovedo quite a bit.
I think he just finished a tour backing up Matthew Sweet.
He's just played with a ton of great people.
And yeah, he and I were--
you know, we're very close, and remain close.
And he actually was sort of instrumental in introducing me
to some of the touring bands that I--
[INTERPOSING VOICES]
I was wondering about that, because when you said The Dream Syndicate,
and then that leads to The Baseball Project.
Yeah, there's a connection there.
So Jason started playing with Steve and Linda, in like 2001 or thereabouts.
And so through that I met Steve and Linda,
and just kind of became friends with them.
And then eventually, at some point along the way,
they said, hey, we have this baseball-themed band
and we need some occasional keyboard help.
And you seem like a good fit, in terms of keyboards and baseball.
So, why don't you come help us out?
And then next thing I knew I was touring around in a van with them
and meeting all these rock musicians that I had grown up admiring from afar,
and getting asked to play with them.
Was that your first introduction to that world?
Yeah, it was my first, I guess, direct introduction to that world.
Other than, like, I knew Steve and Linda.
I'd played with them once before.
I'd hung out with them a number of times.
I'd gone to ballgames with them.
But I had never met the REM guys before.
I lived in Athens.
My dad taught at University of Georgia.
And I was like in grade school and middle school
when REM was sort of up and coming.
So I knew who they were.
I had their cassettes.
You know, on IRS Records and tapes.
I would see them walking down the street downtown sometimes-- be like, yeah,
those guys look cool, man, they're in a band.
And they're in a good band.
And everyone in town was sort of rooting for them.
But then I kind of missed out on their period of big fame,
because I moved away.
And then it was one of these things where, like, I was the new kid.
And I'd moved from a small town to a big city.
And I couldn't relate to the kids.
And then I was being a little snobby, because I was like,
I liked REM before they were popular.
You guys didn't-- you know, that kind of thing.
So I never saw them live, because I was too young in their early days
when they were local.
And then I was too snotty when they were popular.
I did see Peter once with Robin Hitchcock, in like '88 maybe,
at I want say Cabaret Metro or something in Chicago.
But yeah, I think the first time I ever saw
Mike perform I was on stage with him, like three feet away from him.
So it was a little surreal.
But you know, I always liked that band a lot.
And yeah, so I started playing with those guys.
Did some shows in Austin in 2011, and then
a handful of additional shows later on, periodically here and there.
And then when they made their new record,
they asked me to contribute some organ and piano overdubs for it.
And then, did a bunch more shows.
And also there was a period around that time
for a few years where Peter was hosting a festival every year in Mexico
during the winter.
It was like 10, 12 days.
And so I went down for that, and would play with those folks.
And Peter would sort of invite all of his favorite bands,
or all his favorite people to play with.
So through him, I ended up meeting a lot of those folks.
And he would just walk right up to them.
I mean, it was kind of overwhelming to me.
But he would just say to them, like, hey, Josh is a good keyboard player.
You should have him sit in with you--
to these slew of fantastic, well-known rock bands.
And so next thing I know I'm playing with all these people,
and getting to know them and becoming friendly.
And trying to sort of maintain connections, and relationships,
and friendships with them, so that when we
are in the same town at the same time maybe I get to hang out with them.
Or, maybe I get to jump up on stage and play a song with them or something.
It's all very surreal.
But the genuine part of it was just, for me, learning like fairly late in life,
as far as a rock musician career, how much
it is based on getting along with people, and working well with people,
and being with the people you want to be with.
That was something that I never fully understood
during my 20s, when I was just playing at home in my living room by myself.
Right.
It's interesting, because you think about the stereotype of the rock
star-- that probably was the 1970s.
And it's just an arrogant jerk, who just like acts like a toddler.
And that doesn't really exist very often anymore.
Yeah, I mean I have encountered it on occasion.
I've encountered some arrogant jerks.
And some of them are renowned performers, and some of them
are less renowned.
But mostly-- and I don't know if it's just been lucky,
or if it's just that's kind of the way that it has been in more recent years,
as you suggest-- that most of the folks I've played with, whether they're
well known or not, are really friendly.
And that's wonderful.
It's a wonderful environment to work in.
And it's always nice when you find out that someone whose records you like
are also a very nice person.
Yeah.
Well, it's interesting too, because it puts two different ways
of relating to people.
Have you ever had a great relationship with somebody musically, and then
you don't get along personally?
Or, do you find that they do definitely need to go hand in hand?
It certainly helps if there's--
one usually feeds the other.
And then back and forth, until it becomes like a loop--
a loop that allows it to grow and flourish.
Yeah, I mean that's how I feel about it.
I have sort of decided--
I've decided to keep my day job.
And I like my day job.
But, you know, there's a part of me that thinks, boy, wouldn't it
be cool to just be playing music full time for a living?
And I think what I realized was that were
I to do that I might have to compromise the ability
to pick and choose who I want to play with,
and be able to prioritize playing with nice people.
So there's this part of me that's like, OK, I'm keeping the day job.
That means, as my friend Kelly Hogan said,
don't keep assholes in your Rolodex.
And she's somebody who I have long admired from afar--
and I've always tried to emulate, in terms
of being a side player who it seems like everyone wants to work with.
I know that name.
She was in--
I think her first band was called The Jody Grind, from Atlanta.
But she's been a singer in Nico Case's band for a long time.
She's been a backup singer with The Decemberists in recent years.
She occasionally sings backup with Mavis Staples.
She has her own band now called The Flat 5, in Chicago, that's fantastic.
But she's just one of these people who's so funny, and warm, and talented.
And so other musicians just want to be around her and want her in the van.
So I want to try to be like that.
Because I'm not a great writer.
I'm not a great frontman.
I'm not a great singer.
I'm not a great guitar player.
But if I can be the person who stands behind those people and supports them,
I know how to do that.
So, who in all this playing has been the person
that you've been like, oh my gosh, did that really just happen?
I mean, I think in terms of just professionally
working with the people whose careers I'm
kind of trying to emulate in my own way, one
would be Kelly Hogan, who I mentioned.
And another would probably be John Worster,
who's a fantastic drummer, who's played with a ton of people.
He's been playing with Superchunk for a long, long time.
He's been playing with Bob Mould's band for the last several years,
and with the Mountain Goats for the last several years.
And he, again, just seems to be one of these people who
is so good at his job approaches it so professionally, but also is
very content in the supporting role--
and makes people around him happy and makes them play better.
And when I have opportunities to work with them,
I get extremely excited about it.
As far as like the whole weird, surreal, crazy-- like,
I can't believe I'm on the stage with this person,
because I had a poster of them on my bedroom wall when I was in eighth
grade--
it would probably be John Paul Jones from Led Zeppelin.
I've done a handful of shows with him in recent years.
And that's crazy to me, on the one hand.
On the other hand, he's a very friendly, funny, down-to-earth guy.
And when you're hanging out backstage, you
don't feel intimidated, or feel like you're in the presence of rock royalty.
And then when you're on stage with him and you
watch him work you're like, oh, yeah, there's
a reason a reason why he's such a legend.
And a lot of it has to do with that talent and that prowess on stage.
Tell me about--
I've seen you speak a lot about your predecessor
and your admiration for her.
No, no, no, your admiration that I've seen you express
is the Chicago keyboard player.
Yeah, the Chicago White Sox organist, Nancy Faust.
I do have a lot of admiration for the first Red Sox organist.
His name was John Kiley.
He was there from '53 to '89, so he was the first and longest serving.
He also did the Celtics and the Bruins during all those years.
And that was before there was a DJ playing recorded tracks as well.
So, he really was providing the entire soundtrack for all the Boston
pro sports teams for many decades.
So, the old timers remember him fondly.
He really was sort of a celebrity, in that regard.
Tell me a little about the passing of that torch.
Well, he retired in '89.
He passed away shortly after that.
I never met him.
I moved to Boston in 1990.
There were three organists who served in between him, for a few years each.
I wish I had a more direct, intimate connection to him, but I never met him.
I never got to hear him in person.
But he's got a lot of recordings, and I've
gone back and studied them-- and tried my best to emulate that sound
and play a lot of the repertoire that he used to play,
just to preserve that longstanding tradition
for the fans who remember that.
And, yeah, he was he was an important figure in the history of sports music.
Nancy was the one for me, when I was in high school in the Chicago area
and I would go to a lot of Cubs games and a lot of White Sox games.
But when I went to White Sox games I was really, really
drawn to her style of play.
And I was a teenager-- and I remember thinking, even as a teenager, man,
that must be the coolest job in the world.
I never thought anything would come of it.
But she was in a publicly accessible area of the ballpark,
so you could go over and chat with her and watch her play,
and I used to do that sometimes.
And that made a mark on me, as well-- just watching
how accessible she wanted to make herself to people,
and allow people to reach out to her.
And she would take requests from people.
And I thought, that's just the coolest thing.
And she really kind of pioneered a lot of the things that
are taken for granted today, in terms of baseball music-- especially things
like the introduction songs, the walkup songs for the different players.
And the kind of tongue-in-cheek humor of a song
to comment on a play that's happening, or a situation in the game--
or situation on the field, or a situation in the stands.
She had a huge role in that.
And she had a huge role in kind of like modernizing the ballpark repertoire,
because before her it was all sort of pre-rock-and-roll music.
It was Tin Pan Alley and showtunes, and other kinds of standards.
She was 23 years old in 1970, when she started.
She was young and she was hip, and there was
a lot of young, hip music happening at that time.
You know, rock music, pop music, soul music, and she was playing it.
And I think there was a little bit of a backlash at first.
And then there was this big enthusiastic response
from younger fans, who the team had been trying to figure out how to cater to.
I mean, she was a star--
which is cool in and of itself.
But also, she was just was so good at what she did and ahead of her time.
And many years after that I got to know her.
I got to spend time with her, and got to learn a lot of great lessons
from her about playing--
and about interacting with fans, and about how to make it fun for people.
And you have her organ now, right?
Yes.
And after she retired she auctioned off her organ for charity.
And I didn't think I was going to get it.
I didn't even think I was going to bid.
I just thought it would be unaffordable.
So I was promoting the auction and encouraging other people
to bid-- maybe people who I knew, some musicians who maybe had some money.
And the idea being, if it stays in Boston
I know that I can still go visit it from time to time.
And then it turned out, for one reason or another,
the bidding wasn't nearly as robust as I thought it was going to be.
So I tried to talk myself out of bidding.
I asked my wife to talk me out of bidding.
She ended up talking me into it.
And I made a bid, and was surprised to end up being the winning bid.
And then it was this question of, how are we
going to get it from Chicago to Boston?
And three of my Chicago-area, baseball-loving musician friends
just decided, we're going to turn this into sort
of like some kind of weird Scooby Doo-style adventure,
where we're going to get a van.
We're going to pick up the organ, and we're going to drive it out there.
We're going to post all these funny pictures and videos along the way.
And we're to visit the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, which is sort of directly
en route between Chicago and Boston.
And then when we get to Boston, we're going
to play this charity concert that's affiliated
with the Theo Epstein and Peter Gammons's charitable foundations.
So it turned into this whole big, wild, weird, crazy thing
that garnered all this media interest.
And for me, it was just really fun to kind of be waiting and watching
on the receiving end, to welcome them to my home.
Oh, you didn't go out there with them.
No, I wasn't on the trip.
I was posting about it.
And I was talking to them regularly, and I
was helping them coordinate logistics.
I called in a favor to the Baseball Hall of Fame, to a friend there,
to get them sort of a VIP, behind-the-scenes tour of some
of the archives.
And through a strange set of circumstances
I am friendly with the mayor of Cooperstown, and so he greeted them.
And I think took them to lunch, and issued an official mayoral proclamation
to commemorate their adventure.
So the whole thing was just silly, and it was whimsical,
but it was really warm, and heartfelt, and beautiful-- you know, especially
for me, having this intense connection to Nancy,
and her history, and her work.
And then to have all these other people who like music and baseball say, yeah,
we want to be a part of this-- or, we want to support this,
or we want to follow along the adventures online.
And now is that what you play in Fenway?
No, no, that one I have in my living room.
And I'm still learning the ins and outs of it.
Because with those big theater-style organs, no two are alike.
And I had spent so much time getting good at the Fenway one,
and learning all the ins and outs of it, that I feel very invested in that.
And I want to keep that one going for as long as I can.
We left a little bit of a blank space between college and 2003.
So, my first like eight or nine years out of college,
I was still playing a lot.
But I wasn't playing out much.
I was mostly playing at home.
I had a Hammond M2 1960 organ at home, which was the same make
and model that Booker T. played.
And so I just played at home all the time, until I got to a point
where I knew what I was doing-- at least in terms of playing solo, which
is what I'm doing at the ballpark.
I still haven't really figured out how to play ensemble-- like, with a band--
other than maybe previous sort of keyboard rock band
experience in high school and college.
But I was doing a lot of live accompaniment for comedy shows.
So, these small comedy clubs around town-- sometimes it was stand-up,
sometimes it was scripted, sometimes it was improv.
And I would just sort of be the pianist, who would play in between things,
or would come up with musical ideas to enhance the scene that was happening.
And I did a lot of that in college, as well.
And that turned out to be great training for the ballpark stuff.
Because, especially with the improv, you're watching players on the stage
and you don't know what's going to happen next.
And you have to respond with a musical idea that heightens the action,
or that leads the action.
Did you cross paths with TJ at this point?
Because he was the DJ at the Improv for a long time.
Yeah, he was a DJ at the Improv Asylum, and we definitely
knew some of the same people.
I should probably say, TJ Connelly, the Red Sox DJ.
Yes, and also the New England Patriots DJ now, in recent years.
But he's been with the Pats for, I think, three years.
And he's been with the Red Sox regularly for I think about 10 years now.
As far as either of us can recall, we didn't cross paths through that.
We did cross paths through some other weird--
just sort of random Boston music theater connections,
where there were a couple of times where we
were in the same bar at the same time.
And we were chatting, and we hit it off.
And I think at that point I was already with the Red Sox, and he was not yet.
But we did know each other once he started with the Red Sox,
and then through working together just constantly.
You became good pals?
Yes, it's very much a work-spouse kind of relationship.
I loved watching you guys, that one time--
where you guys are just constantly talking to each other in the mics.
Yeah, we wear a headset, because we aren't in close physical proximity
to each other.
The organ and the DJ used to be very close to each other.
And then things got reconfigured in the control room.
The organ got bumped to the downstairs, to the restaurant area.
But, yeah, we talk to each other all throughout the pre-game activities--
and all throughout the game activities, and all throughout the post-game.
We're just constantly keeping each other on our toes--
giving each other cues, suggestions, feedback.
When to play, when not to play.
And make sure we both don't play at the same time.
Make sure we aren't sort of stealing too many of each other's ideas.
But it's really fun to have someone that you trust,
who really knows music, and knows baseball.
And has that kind of quick wit to work with as a partner, and to not sort of
feel like you're doing it alone on an island.
So, it's great.
And then, you know, even when there aren't ballgames,
we're often texting each other dumb music joke ideas.
Well, tell me something-- you know, the other day Tom Petty passed away.
And I'm sure upon learning of that you wanted
to pay tribute to him in some way.
Well, the next home game is still a few days away.
So it will have been several days from the time he passed until that game.
So whether or not we choose to pay tribute, I guess, will depend on
a variety of factors.
It's also going to be a playoff game, so the atmosphere
may be a little different.
But I'm sure that we will touch base and talk
about how we would like to do that-- whether we would like to do that.
There have been other instances with major artists,
where they've passed away-- especially if they've passed away at a younger age
than they ought to have-- where we have chosen to pay tribute.
Maybe one of us will play a song.
Maybe each of us will play a song.
Maybe each of us will play more than one song.
You know, when Prince passed away at the beginning of last baseball season
we were a bit stunned.
And we got the news literally just minutes before the ballgame.
And so we were unsure how to proceed, because we
thought there may very well be people in the stands we don't even know yet,
and it might be a little confusing.
But then, at the same time, we both play Prince songs somewhat regularly
over the course of the season.
So it didn't feel unusual.
And you know, our intent was to just do a small, simple tribute
at the beginning, where we would each play
one song, maybe in the first inning.
But we got such an enormous positive response from people
saying how much they enjoyed it, that we said, well, OK, let's do another one.
And then, let's do another one.
And the next thing you know, we were doing it every inning,
trading back and forth inning breaks.
And all of a sudden by the end of the game
we had just played Prince music the whole game,
which was cathartic in a way.
It was sad.
It was jubilant.
There was a warmth to it.
It was a little stressful for me, and I guess for him as well--
in terms of coming up with a full slate of programming.
I mean, I'm very familiar with his work, but some of the songs
I maybe hadn't played in 20 or 30 years.
And I had to like relearn them all very quickly, on the fly.
Yeah, you just sit there with the headphones and your iPhone,
and look things up really quickly before?
That's what I usually do if I'm preparing
to play a song that I don't feel real familiar with, or maybe
have never heard before.
Because now I do this thing, in recent years, where I take requests
via Twitter from fans in the stands--
where they can send me the name of a song that they would like me to play.
And more often than not I'm able to find a time and place to play that song,
or at least play a chorus of it-- if it's a short cue.
And it's really fun.
It's really exhilarating.
It's also fairly terrifying, to not know from night
to night and from inning to inning what your next song is going to be.
And maybe you've never even heard it before.
And you just have to trust that you can like pull it up quickly, listen to it,
get the gist of it, put it out there in a way that's
good enough that it sounds good.
I don't want to play it if it's going to sound not good.
But that's been really fun for me.
And I think it's been really fun for the people who take part in it.
And it's not something that's very widely advertised,
because I wouldn't want it to turn into something where
I'm getting 100 requests a night and I only have time to get to 15 of them--
and then I have to say no to 85%.
But right now I tend to get about 10 to 15 per game,
and I'm able to get them all in usually.
That's great.
And how long into doing this via Twitter did it become kind of a thing?
It wasn't long.
I wasn't really interested in Twitter, just in general--
in terms of baseball stuff, or in terms of anything else.
I just didn't understand the utility.
It was a thing where the boss at the day job was sort of forcing all of us
to get on there, and we were all skeptical.
And then at some point along the way, it was two people.
One was TJ, the DJ, and then also this guy Matt Kaminski,
who's the organist for the Atlanta Braves.
They were both starting to use it for baseball-related purposes-- a fan
experience.
And they each said to me, I think you should give it a try.
I think you'd be good at it.
I didn't think it would turn into a request line.
But I just thought it might be a nice way to get feedback from people,
and to learn what people like and what they don't like.
Because I did feel a little bit, sometimes,
like I was operating in a vacuum.
And I was trying to make the best choices,
but didn't always know if I was making the best choices.
And yeah, just very, very slowly, gradually it kind of
built up into its own thing.
And now I hear from a lot of fans, and they tell me what they like
and what they don't like, and what they want to hear.
And it's been really enjoyable.
And as far as I can tell, it's been really enjoyable for them too.
I guess for the ones who don't enjoy it, they unfollow, and that's fine.
And it allows me to let people know, even if they aren't at the game,
here are some of the requests I'm taking.
Here are examples of songs that I'm trying to play.
I try to have a playful interplay with people on that as well,
to kind of keep it light--
crack jokes.
You know, I might tease and make fun of their musical taste a little bit,
but I probably make twice as much fun of my own musical tastes,
so I feel like it's fair game.
I feel like that's the service fee that you
pay for getting your Taylor Swift song played,
is that I get to make a crack at Taylor Swift.
I think you said something a few weeks ago
about guys who are requesting boy-band songs from the '90s
and pretend it's for their girlfriend.
Yeah, that was this guy-- he's like, will you
play my wife's favorite Backstreet Boys song, "Everybody"?
And I was like, oh, yeah, sure, it's for your wife.
Uh-huh, I hear that all the time.
And he was a great sport about it.
He's like, oh, yeah, you caught me, it was really for me.
He was just playing along, being tongue in cheek.
But then I heard from other people who were like, yeah,
I got to admit I actually do that sometimes.
I like the Backstreet Boys, but I try to pretend
that it's just my girlfriend who likes it
and not really me-- that kind of thing.
It's fun to just play with expectations and celebrate pop songs for what they
are, which is these fun little morsels.
I like the terrible hit song contest you've been doing lately.
Oh, that was fun.
I did that just on the last day of the season,
because they had already clinched the division title the night before.
So I thought, OK, the stakes are low today,
what's sort of a fun, goofy, engaging thing that I can do?
And I just tweeted, send me the name of a terrible hit song.
I'll pick the worst one
[INTERPOSING VOICES]
Oh god, there were so many bad ones.
And I got way more response to it.
It's funny to see how enthusiastic people were
to name songs they hate, more so than songs they love.
But there were so many amazing ones, that I narrowed it
down to four finalists, which were Paul Anka's "You're Having My Baby," which
is such a nightmare.
"I've Never Been to Me," by Charlene, which has always
been a personal pet peeve for me.
"What's Up?", by 4 Non Blondes, which is one
that I have also always strongly disliked personally,
and that I got a lot of responses for.
And then the fourth finalist, which ended up-- so, I put the four
finalists to a vote on Twitter poll.
And the one that won was Billy Ray Cyrus, "Achy Breaky Heart."
So you talked about the day job a little bit, but tell me,
has there always been music in the day job?
No, there's always been libraries in the day job--
ever since I was in high school and college
and I would work summers and work study in university libraries.
And so then when I graduated college, I wasn't sure
if I wanted to stay in Boston.
What was your degree in?
My degree was in Spanish Literature.
So I wrote a thesis in Spanish on Don Quixote, which I read in Spanish.
Which, looking back, I'm like, wow, how did I do that?
But I just immersed myself in Spanish, basically,
when I wasn't doing music stuff.
Like, I did in Spanish in the classroom, and then I
did a lot of music stuff extracurricular.
Did you do any music stuff, like taking classes?
I mean, it sounds like you did all your formative training by that point,
right?
Yeah, I mean, I didn't--
I took a music theory class in college.
And I considered doing a minor in music or something,
but I didn't really pursue music in the classroom.
But I very aggressively pursued it outside of the classroom,
in terms of playing with bands, and just singing
and playing guitar in the campus coffeehouse.
And doing this improvisational theater stuff, and being in orchestra pits
for some of the musical theater productions.
I was just kind of all over the place with that stuff.
So, yeah, I decided to stay in Boston after college, because my girlfriend
and I were starting to get very serious.
And now we're married.
We've been married for a million years.
What was your wedding song?
Our song was a late period Jackie Wilson B-side, called "Nothing
But Blue Skies."
Great song.
It was not a big hit, but one that we both were really fond of.
And it's just an excellent, beautiful, uptempo song.
And there have been a couple of times where she's been at the ballgame
and I have played it as sort of like a secret love note--
Oh, that's so sweet.
--for her sitting in the stands.
But, yeah, that was our song.
Anyway, I'm sorry.
No, no, that's OK.
Putting you on different tangents.
When I decided to stay in Boston, most of it was wanting to be with her.
But it was also this idea of, my previous work experience
is in university libraries.
There's a lot of university libraries in this town,
so I could probably get a job somewhere.
It's like that Spinal Tap part-- is Boston canceled?
Don't worry, it's not much of a college town.
Yeah, exactly.
So I just always had a variety of library jobs at different universities.
I've been working at in the libraries at Harvard since '99.
For a long, long time I was in the Law School.
And then about 4 and 1/2 years ago, I switched over to the Music Department.
They had an opening there.
Yeah, every now and then I'll see you'll post something-- like,
you'll actually have an artifact.
What's the most precious artifact you've come across, or gotten to handle?
That's a good question.
Because you wear these gloves.
Yeah, so my role in the music library now is to basically help--
I'm one of two people who kind of oversees all of the stuff that's
what they call special.
Which means it's old, or it's rare, or it's valuable, or it's unique--
or it's more than one of those things.
We have a handwritten Marriage of Figaro opera.
It's not in Mozart's original hand, but it's the copy-- it's the scribe,
basically, who he hired to take his chicken scratch
and turn it into something that could be legible,
and that could then be read and interpreted
by a printer who could print it.
I was looking the other day at the undergrad thesis
that Leonard Bernstein wrote when he was a senior at Harvard,
in 1939, at age 20.
It was very, very interesting to read that,
because it touched on a lot of work that he later became known for and was
an innovator of.
So to see that young, prodigious mind kind
of churning on some of those topics, before he had fully
reached the fruition of it, was pretty fascinating.
That's really cool.
So tell me then I'd like to know of right as you're getting the Red Sox
job.
Yes, so the Red Sox, at the beginning of 2003,
they had a vacancy for the organist position.
I knew someone who was working for the team at the time.
And it was someone who I knew--
well, through a variety of connections.
But most recently at that point I had known him from the comedy club work
that I mentioned.
He and I had written some songs together.
He'd get on stage and sing the songs, and I would play behind him.
And we'd known each other for a long time,
and had run in similar kind of creative and performing circles.
So he knew that I could play.
He knew that I had a knack for the improv thing.
He knew just through our socializing that I knew baseball, which
is a pretty important job requirement.
You don't have to be the most virtuoso organ player,
but you have to know all the weird rules of baseball--
in terms of pinch hitters, and double switches, and infield-fly rule,
and all these things that you have to be able to follow in the game.
And had that been a through line?
I know you'd mentioned visiting the organist.
Yeah, I had always been a big baseball fan.
That was something that my dad got me into,
when I was probably about seven years old.
And I always followed it.
I played it a lot as a kid, sometimes just in the park behind the house.
But I also played organized Little League until I was about 12.
I was never very good at it, but I always enjoyed it.
And I collected baseball cards pretty avidly, from like maybe third grade
through sixth or seventh grade-- something like that.
I still have most of those cards in boxes somewhere.
And, yeah, I just kind of always maintained an interest.
But I'd never been to Fenway until I moved to Boston to start college.
But I remember it was like the first day I moved to Boston, or maybe the day
after or something--
I went down.
I was like, I want to go to Fenway.
And it was late August and early September,
and they were playing the Yankees.
So you got tickets, no problem?
Yeah.
[INTERPOSING VOICES]
They were in first place and they were playing the Yankees in late season,
and I just went and got--
I don't know if it was a standing room or something.
I think I went with a couple of the other new freshmen at the college.
I was like, hey, you guys like baseball?
Let's get on the train and go.
But I remember they beat the Yankees 15 to 1.
Mike Greenwell hit an inside-the-park grand slam, which I still to this day
have never seen that ever again-- and I've
been to a gazillion baseball games.
And just the atmosphere was great.
And I was like, OK, this is my team.
I'm now on board with the Red Sox.
I am jettisoning the fandom for the White Sox
that I had in high school because of their organist.
And I pretty much jettisoned my fandom of Atlanta Braves,
that I'd had from my pre-high-school years when I lived in Georgia.
So, that was it.
I just was fully on board with the Red Sox.
So this friend-- this guy Danny--
he basically recommended me to the person
who was overseeing the auditions for a new organist.
And so that was my foot in the door.
And I went in for a couple of rounds of auditions.
I remember feeling like the first round went OK, but not great.
They were sort of putting me through the paces,
having me play a bunch of different styles,
and genres, and eras of popular music-- and then sort
of quizzing me on certain songs that might
fit into certain situations in baseball games.
And then I didn't hear from them for like two or three months.
This was during the winter.
And so I just sort of put it out of mind.
And I thought, oh, they probably picked somebody else.
But oh well, it was fun to have the audition experience anyway.
It made for a good story.
Especially because one of the people who I was playing for at the audition,
he called over.
And he said, I'm running late, I'm stuck in this meeting
in another part of the ballpark.
But I have a conference room with a window facing out onto the ballpark.
So I'm just going to open the window.
And while I'm sitting here at my meeting,
just have the audio engineer turn on all the speakers in the ballpark
and I'll listen.
So my first audition was like for the whole neighborhood, basically.
It was for an empty Fenway Park--
That's amazing.
and Fenway neighborhood on an off day in the winter months.
Yeah, so that was like slightly terrifying for me at that time.
And then a few months passed and they called.
And they said, we'd love for you to come back in, for a callback.
And, how soon can you come back in?
And I knew from some previous audition experience that when they say callback
and how soon, usually that means you're in the top two.
And so I remember feeling like that gave me a lot of confidence.
And I went into that second round feeling very confident.
I remember feeling like that audition went really well.
And I think it was right at the end of the audition, they said,
are you available to do all the home games?
And I said, if you're offering me the job, then, yes.
And they said, OK, we're offering you the job.
That is so cool.
And at that point had you spoken with the people at your day job?
You're at Harvard at that point?
Yeah, at that point I was at Harvard.
I was working at the Law Library.
No, I hadn't told anybody about it, I don't think.
I just figured that job is way too cool to say no to.
If I get it, I'll figure out some way.
I'll figure out some kind of work around.
I mean, I knew the people I worked with at Harvard would likely be supportive--
and that they would be cool with it, and that they would help me cover shifts.
I mean, most of the games are evenings and weekends,
so it's not really a problem generally.
And sure enough, they were all very supportive.
And so it was never an issue or a problem.
I will say, in the four or five years that I've been at the Music Department
Library now, they are that's an especially supportive group,
because most everyone who works there is a part-time musician on the side,
in some capacity.
So we're all very used to people having rehearsals, auditions, performances,
recording sessions-- whatever it might be.
And people are supportive about covering each other's shifts, and making sure
that the work gets done.
So there have been times when someone has done me that favor,
and another time when I've returned the favor.
I want to hear about the first game.
The first game was pretty nerve wracking.
I mean, I had never played for more than 500 or 600 people.
And mostly I was playing for about 50 people,
in terms of most of my local rock gigs, comedy gigs, and that kind of thing.
And I remember the day before they had told
me, don't worry, we're going to ease you in gradually,
over the course of the first few games.
And I thought, that's great, I really appreciate
that, I could use some easing in.
Because the other thing was, I had never been on a headset before.
And it's very much like a television station control room style
production, where you're working in conjunction
with all the audio-video people-- the people
who are running cameras and scoreboards-- and lights
and statistics, and replays and highlight packages, and all this stuff.
And there's a lot of chatter in your ear,
of people giving each other cues for when to show videos,
or when to show camera shots.
And then you're trying to have your music sync up with all that stuff, as
much as possible.
So there was a big learning curve for me on that--
never mind the general nervousness of playing for 38,000 people, plus however
many people are listening and watching on radio, TV, and internet, and so
forth.
So, I was feeling good the day before.
They were going to ease me in.
And then when I got there the day of, they said, oh, change of plans.
We're going to need you to play for like 90 minutes straight,
like when the gates open for the early-bird arrivals--
during while players are doing warm-ups and batting practice,
and all this stuff.
And I just thought, oh my god, 90 minutes straight.
I mean, I laugh at it now because it feels like nothing.
But I was terrified.
And I remember I went in the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.
And Joe Castiglione, who's the longtime Red Sox radio announcer,
he saw me in there.
And he didn't know me, but I was in the media area
so I was credentialed in some regard.
And I think he could just see sort of how pale I looked.
So he asked if I was OK.
And I explained to him the situation.
And he's a big music fan.
And he said, oh, don't worry, I'm sure you're going to be great.
You're going to be fine.
He gave me a little pep talk, which was actually super helpful--
just this weird, lucky, random thing that happened.
And then I went and I played.
And then I got through the 90 minutes.
And I kind of remember thinking, if I can get through
that now I can get through most anything-- maybe I'm ready.
There was one other thing that I wasn't quite ready
for at that point, which was they had lined up Lou Rawls and Ray Charles
to perform before the start of the game.
And I didn't know this.
At the time, they were trying to keep it under wraps.
They didn't want it to get leaked out.
They wanted it to be a surprise.
And so it was a very limited number of people, even within the production
of the organization, who knew.
I knew it was going to be somebody, but I didn't know how it was going to be.
And I didn't know that I was going to fit into that in some way.
But I remember the producer is talking to me on the headset.
He says, OK, Josh, here's how it's going to go.
Ray Charles is going to come out.
They're going to have a grand piano for him.
He's going to sing his iconic rendition of "America the Beautiful."
Then, we're going to have Lou Rawls come out and sing the National Anthem.
And then we're going to throw to you, and we're
going to ask you to play something.
How do you follow that?
I have to follow those guys on my first day in a full stadium.
And I got to figure out what I'm going to play.
And yeah, the whole thing is really a blur to me at this point.
I don't remember what I played.
Did you just play, (HUMMING) dum, dum, dum, dum, dum?
No, I mean, I picked some pop song and I played it.
I don't remember what it was.
But, yeah, that was a thoroughly overwhelming experience.
Wow.
And then I remember after that one feeling like, OK,
that was a trial by fire.
I'm not going to be thrown or nervous going forward.
And it was kind of true.
It ended up being better than getting eased in.
You know, it's that thing-- like, do you pull the Band-Aid off slowly,
or do you pull it off quickly?
And I thought it was going to be slowly.
It ended up being quickly.
And in the long run, that ended up being better, but I had no idea at the time.
Right.
That's great.
And then the next year is the World Series.
Yeah, my second year there they broke the curse.
They won the World Series for the first time in 86 years.
You broke the curse
Ah, it might have had something to do with David Ortiz and some
of those other guys.
But it was certainly incredibly special and memorable to be there for it,
and to be riding that roller coaster the whole time,
and to be playing music for those games-- those games
where they started to come back against the Yankees.
Those games against St. Louis in the World Series.
I have goose bumps now.
Yeah, it was magical.
The main thing I remember is not so much about me or about the stadium,
but just the way the whole town and the whole community for like three weeks
afterwards was just transformed-- like, strangers
hugging each other on the streets.
And just these jubilant cheers erupting spontaneously on street corners.
We need an actual World Series right now, to make everybody in the world hug
each other.
Right, that's for true.
But I remember I booked a year in advance this performance
at Symphony Hall, where they were going to be
highlighting their refurbished organ.
They had spent two years refurbishing it,
and they wanted to have this big festival to kind of celebrate it.
So they brought organists of all stripes to come and play it.
So they had a classical organist, and a church organist,
and a silent film organ accompanist.
And I forget what some of the other ones were.
And then they had me.
I was going to come do 10 minutes of sort of ballpark-y kind of stuff.
And they lined up the schedule year in advance.
It was a really cool program.
I mean, I'd certainly never played in Symphony Hall,
or anywhere like that before.
So that was pretty damn special.
But what no one knew was that it was going to end up being the week
after the Red Sox won the World Series for the first time in 86 years.
So the other organists were all well received.
I was extraordinarily well received, for no reason other
than just everyone was on this Red Sox high.
And I remember I'm waiting in the wings.
They're introducing me from the podium, and saying,
and now here he is, the organist for the Boston Red Sox.
And people just went bananas.
And I was like, well, I can't live up to that with the sort of corny little pop
songs that I'm now going to play on this giant pipe
organ that has over 5,000 pipes.
But it was special, it was fun.
Everyone stood and cheered, and clapped and sang along with all the songs.
And so that may have been the first time, or one of the first times
that 2,500 people in Symphony Hall were all singing a Monkees song or whatever.
I've referenced a few times, that (HUMMING) dum, dum, dum, dum, dum.
What is that called?
Oh, I don't know.
It doesn't have a name?
Yeah, I don't know.
I mean, there's the one-- by various artists?
There's the one that's called "Charge," which is like [SINGING RHYTHM]..
And it's funny because I actually do not play any of those little chant pieces
at Fenway.
TJ and I don't do those kinds of prompts, that tell people how to cheer,
or how to clap their hands.
We kind of feel like our fans are savvy enough
to know when to get those things going on their own.
I mean, we'll help rile people up, but we kind of
feel like the fans are steering the ship more than we are.
And they do know how to pace themselves over the course of the game,
and what the peaks and valleys are, and when
to like lean into the intensity of the situation without having a cue--
a real blatant hit you over the head kind of cue tell them.
Was that from the start that you said, I'm not going to do that?
Yeah, I think we inherited that.
And I don't know if that had always been the case at Fenway,
but certainly for some period of time prior to me and him being there
that was sort of the policy.
And it was a policy that we had no problem getting on board with,
because we recognized the uniqueness of that--
and that it does make sense at a place like Fenway,
and with a fan base like the Red Sox.
Red Sox fans know their baseball.
And if you try to insinuate that they don't, then they
feel that you've insulted their intelligence.
And you kind of have insulted their intelligence.
But I think that's great, because there's
no shortcuts for doing this well.
You have to have good ideas.
If you don't, people will let you know.
But I've subbed a handful of hockey games for the Boston Bruins,
and they do several of those kinds of chants.
And some of them have names, some of them don't.
But I remember when I shadowed Ron Poster, who
is a Berklee alum, who's been the Bruins organist for several years.
He kind of went through the checklist with me of all those prompts,
and told me what the names of them were.
And I wrote them down somewhere on a piece of paper.
And they all have silly names.
I don't know if it's names that he came up with,
or that he learned from somebody else.
As we wrap up, anything different in the way you approach playoff season?
Because I want to get this out there at the beginning of the playoffs.
So, the playoffs are just about to start.
And, yeah, the playoffs are a little bit different than the regular season,
in terms of what TJ and I are doing, I guess in a few different key ways.
One is, that it's sort of wildly unpredictable.
The regular season, you know there's going to be 81 games.
And you know which days are going to be on, and you know what time they start.
The playoffs, you don't know how many home games there are going to be.
It could be like last year, where there's only one.
And the team doesn't play really well, and they get knocked out quickly.
Or it could go throughout the entire month of October, if they play well
and keep winning, and get into the World Series.
And you don't know who's going to have the home field advantage--
so, which games are going to be at home, which
games are going to be on the road.
So just the scheduling alone, and figuring out
of how to pace yourself through it, and try to build accordingly--
but without knowing.
That's different.
I mean, I'm always optimistic about it.
I always feel like, yeah, I like our chances.
I think we'll win.
Why not?
Why not us?
But, ultimately, you never know how it's going to go.
As far as then sort of actual presentation in game,
we have some go-to songs, that we kind of reserve for playoff season.
Some of those are already established.
Some may be subject to review.
Some may be new introductions to that, where we'll come up with new ideas,
and say, OK, let's try this.
What are some of the ones you have?
For some reason that old piece, "Tubular Bells," comes up during playoff time.
That's from The Exorcist, right?
Yeah.
They use the introduction of that song as the theme music
during the opening credits of The Exorcist.
But it's a really sort of long, weird piece.
Oh, it gets crazy, with, like, caveman noise.
Yeah, right.
It's got all kinds of crazy stuff in it.
But it's been in the playoff mix for some reason or other.
That's amazing.
So that's the one that comes to mind.
But, you know, there will be others, and maybe we'll come up with some new ones.
And I haven't decided yet--
I do need to talk to TJ and check in with them about it,
and get his two cents.
I haven't decided if I'm going to keep the request line open,
or fully open during the playoffs.
It might be a different kind of thing, where
we decide to create a bit more hands on in that situation,
rather than let it be sort of like a free for all where anybody can send
in any dumb song and we'll play it.
I guess the big question is, will you be able to play
the keyboards with three rings?
Oh.
[LAUGHS] That is a good question.
I don't know the answer to that.
I've been there for all three of the recent World Series championships.
I'm exposing my lack of sports knowledge-- have the Sox won the World
Series three times?
They won in '04, they won in '07, and 2013.
Oh, yeah.
I'm going to have to retake this part.
Will you be able to play with four rings?
I will not edit out my ignorance, though.
I was just joking about that.
It's a good question.
I don't know the answer.
At this point, I am the proud owner of one World Series ring,
which I got when they won the Series in 2013.
When they won the previous two times, in '04 and '07, I was there as part
of a team, but I did not get a ring in those years.
I guess I didn't make the cut, when they were
trying to decide who was important enough or whatever to earn a ring.
But I have the one.
And if I am lucky enough this year or at some point in the future
to get another one, that'd be fine by me.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Another World Series is fine by Josh Kantor.
And please, please, Boston, find it in your heart
to forgive me for forgetting about the 2013 Series.
We had a new baby in our life that year, and by that point
we hadn't slept for probably six months.
We were walking around in a dream state.
And also, you know, the podcast isn't called Sports Is My Life.
So you can cut me a little slack, right?
It's called Music Is My Life.
And you find all the previous episodes at online.berklee.edu/takenote--
and on most of the other places where great podcasts live, including iTunes.
Speaking of which, if you have a moment, please take some time to leave a rating
and review for the Music Is My Life podcast on iTunes.
I really appreciate that you've all been downloading this podcast
and listening over the past year, and I want to hear more from you.
So tell me what you think in the review section,
and you'll hear more from me next month.
Thank you so much for listening.
Now, play ball.
Không có nhận xét nào:
Đăng nhận xét