Chances of Wolves is an internet radio program on East Village Radio.
The original concept for Chances of Wolves was to present sort of overlooked, hauntingly beautiful music of all genres.
A lot of cover versions, a lot of sort of reinterpretations of songs that you might know.
I always talk about Beatles covers because those songs are so meaningful to me,
but I grew up listening to them in the house, my dad would play them,
and most people have heard all those Beatles songs a million times,
and you can never get that feeling back again when you really listen to the Beatles for the first time.
I can't, right?
And the only way to recreate that is to find this weird cover version of it
where the person puts that same song in this new context and I get to experience that beauty all over again.
Chances of Wolves is me, Mikey Palms, and Prey, who's Justin Cox.
I work two hours every week, Mondays, four to six, and then because it's an internet radio show, you can stream at any time.
In some ways, I mean, the most practical these days is the internet.
I don't know where my radio is right now. I used to have fun around here, but everyone knows where their computer's at.
God damn it, you listen to the radio, if you have a job job, like you're driving a truck,
and you have to listen to the hot night set, you have to.
You just want to, you know, you're stuck in traffic or something and you put that shit on and they play these awesome five songs
and then they have a commercial break and then they play the same five songs again.
We try really hard not to repeat any songs.
125, 126 shows in, it's a lot of new music in each installment of the show.
I woke up just in time to see a yellow unicorn eating the low branches from the legendary outside,
then into the green you ran, and it was gone.
My sister had a pretty cool record collection. She let me borrow a yellow man record, I think King Yellow Man.
That was the first reggae music I ever heard, and I remember listening to that by myself,
like what seemed like late at night when I was a little kid, I was probably like 10, 30 at night or something.
And it put me in the weirdest mood, and I didn't know how to like deal with the feelings that it was giving me,
but I knew it was good.
Most of my records are in the basement, and with digital, unfortunately it's kind of disconnected me from my record collection
in a way that I thought would never happen before.
On the internet there's all these rare records that people put up, like you can't find, there's only like five copies known in the world.
And so those people that have it, they don't care, they have the object, they're into the object, and they'll put the MP3s up there.
It's creative googling. What I do is I find a record that I'm interested in and I search for it.
Even if I have the record, I find the record and I search for it, and then I see what else that guy put up.
They've got to put that up. What else do you put up?
So much music gets produced and released, and then subsequently overlook that it's like, you know, sometimes you just kind of hit gold if you're poking around.
You're never going to hear all the amazing music there is today.
Ever. I'm talking about old records, and I'm talking about the fact that they keep making new ones.
I keep thinking it's going to end, but it doesn't, and I like that.
