I met Colin P. Walsh when I walked into his dorm room, mistakenly thinking it was the hallway. He wearily looked up from what he was doing (which was probably about five things at once–Colin is the only person I’ve ever known who could successfully read, watch TV and listen to music all at the same time), calmly explained my mistake and noted that it happened all the time. The rest, they say, is history. To him I owe my exposure to several major league ballparks (most now retired from service), a different appreciation for wine and an unwavering affection for The Replacements. And the lovely, gracious, infinitely patient women we went to college with can attribute to us hopefully comic memories of two painfully inept young men who hit on them by reciting and singing the entirety of the Freedom Rock commercial.

In respect of Mr. Drilling–and his kindly offer to fill his digital space with incoherent nostalgia–the genesis of this post lies in our collective college radio days of WWSP. As we voraciously devoured the latest in vinyl, recognition slowly dawned on geographical hot spots surfacing from around the country. Fueled by labels like Twin/Tone, Sub Pop and Mammoth, these associated bands came to represent a “scene” to us, indicative of the music created in those lands far, far away from our 3610 watts of potato-blasting power. As self-appointed arbiters of good taste, it was our duty to foster these scenes, to nurture them from afar in a symbiotic relationship. As thrilling as new music discovery was, it always felt like being outside, looking in.

It wasn’t until after college, while slinging and stocking booze, i became part of a music “scene”. Granted, Oshkosh (WI) wasn’t reaching the outer limits of the nations’s radio stations; hell, we weren’t getting play on many local ones either. But there were dedicated musicians, entrepreneurial spirits that started a record label, and a coalescing feeling of being in something together; something that has played out countless times across the country, there was nothing necessarily special about it, other than to those in it. It is from my peripheral involvement in that joyous time this tune is brought forth. The band Babelfish were a tuneful bunch, well representative of the ragged guitar-driven rock prevalent in town at that time. With a strong lead singer and thumping bass player (as well as H.S. classmate) to set themselves apart from others of the era, they were one of the biggest draws in town for their brief moment in the “scene”.

Babelfish, “Crowded Room”

(Disclaimer: I would invoke the Quirk Rule about returning profits to the band members, but you would actually have to know one of them to get this song. If Bryan, or Chris, or Tom, or J.J. and Mark don’t want this song on here, please contact the site administrator. If they want MORE songs on here, they need to get something digital, trying to convert that cassette is a b****.)