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"What's the Frequency, Kenneth?"

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“What's The Frequency, Kenneth?”
Written by Bill Berry, Mike Mills, Peter Buck and Michael Stipe (1993)
Performed by R.E.M.

The Music

It makes sense that R.E.M., a band whose lyrics were often cryptic and indecipherable, would find inspiration for a song in the mysterious circumstances surrounding a physical attack on newsman Dan Rather. “It was the premier unsolved American surrealist act of the 20th century,” said singer Michael Stipe. “It's a misunderstanding that was scarily random, media-hyped and just plain bizarre.”

Though the title was lifted directly from a phrase uttered by one of Rather's assailants, the song itself tackled a much broader subject. Stipe said, “I wrote that protagonist as a guy who's desperately trying to understand what motivates the younger generation, who has gone to great lengths to try and figure them out. And at the end of the song, it's completely bogus. He got nowhere.”

As the first single from the band's 1993 Monster album, “What's The Frequency, Kenneth?” went to #21 on the charts (but only after the phrase “Don't f*** with me” was edited out for the radio version). Two years later (in a surreal moment that fits with this story), Dan Rather joined the band on stage in New York to warble along on a performance of the song.

Here's the official video:

And here's R.E.M. with guest vocalist Dan Rather:

The History

At about 11 pm on the night of October 4, 1986, CBS anchorman Dan Rather was walking along Park Avenue in New York, on the way back to his apartment. Just as he neared the building's entrance, he was accosted by two well-dressed men. One asked, “What is the frequency, Kenneth?” Rather replied, “You must be mistaking me for someone else . . .” With that, the man knocked Rather to the ground, and as he kicked and punched him, he repeatedly asked his strange question. Rather called out for help, and a moment later, as the doorman and the building's super arrived on the scene, the assailants fled.

The police took a statement, but no one was ever arrested or charged.

So was it just a random, unprovoked attack? A case of mistaken identity? Were the attackers some kind of secret agents delivering a message to Rather to back off a particular news story (at the time, he was researching the Iran Contra affair and was set to expose new information)?

Rather himself had no answers. “I got mugged,” he said shortly after. “Who understands these things? I didn't and I don't now. I didn't make a lot of it at the time and don't now. I wish I knew who did it and why, but I have no idea.”

Future Shock

The incident was strange, but it got even stranger. In 1994, a North Carolina man named William Tager shot and killed an NBC technician, Campbell Montgomery, outside the sound studio of the Today Show. Tager had tried to enter the the studio with an assault rifle, and Montgomery died in an attempt to block him. Tager was arrested and reportedly told police that the television network had been monitoring him for years and beaming secret messages into his head. He apparently came to NBC looking for a way to block those transmissions.

Tager was convicted of murder and sentenced to 25 years in Sing Sing prison.

His story took a sci-fi twist when he told a psychiatrist that he was a time traveler from a parallel world in the year 2265. A convicted felon in the future, Tager said he was a test-pilot volunteer in a dangerous time travel experiment. If he was successful on his mission, his sentence would be overturned and he would be set free. The authorities in the future kept tabs on him via an implanted chip in his brain. During the examinations, Trager also confessed that he had attacked Dan Rather because he mistook him for the Vice President of his future world, one Kenneth Burrows.

When Rather saw a photograph of Tager, he identified him as his assailant.

And there's yet another strand of intrigue to the tale. In 2001, Paul Limbert Allman wrote a speculative piece about the incident for Harper's Magazine. In exploring the work of post-modern fiction writer Donald Barthelme, Allman had discovered in his stories a recurring character named Kenneth and the phrase “What's the frequency?” Both Rather and Barthelme were the same age, hailed from Houston, Texas and as young men, worked as journalists. Allman thought it was reasonable to assume that their paths might've crossed. Furthermore, in one of Barthelme's books, there's a character named Lather, a conceited editor who bears a resemblance to Rather. The unspoken question was: Did Barthelme somehow inspire Tager's attack on Rather?

Barthelme died in 1989, and his brother Frederick, also a writer, has refused to comment on any connection.

There was also a theory that maybe Rather misheard his assailant's words, or even invented them. After all, this was a newscaster known for his colorful off-the-cuff analogies and descriptions that came to be called “Ratherisms.” Examples: “This thing is as tight as the rusted lug nuts on a '55 Ford” and “You would sooner find a tall talking broccoli stick to offer to mow your lawn for free.”

In 2010, William Tager was released from prison on good behavior. He currently lives in New York City, where he is closely monitored by parole officers and mental health counselors.

Rather retired from CBS in 2005. At 81, he continues to be active as a writer and occasional correspondent. He lives part time in New York City.

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Pop Culture
How Phil Collins Accidentally Created the Sound That Defined 1980s Music
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Kevin Winter, Getty Images

Unless your technical knowledge of music runs deep, you may have never heard the phrase “gated reverb.” But you’ve definitely heard the effect in action: It’s that punchy snare drum sound that first gained traction in music in the 1980s. If you can play the drum beat from “I Would Die 4 U” by Prince or “Born in the U.S.A.” by Bruce Springsteen in your head, you know what sound we’re referring to.

But that iconic element of pop might not have emerged if it wasn’t for Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins. As Vox lays out in its new video, the discovery was made in 1979 during the studio recording of Peter Gabriel’s self-titled third solo album (often called Melt because of its cover art). Gabriel’s Genesis bandmate Phil Collins was playing the drums as usual when his beats were accidentally picked up by the microphone used by audio engineers to talk to the band. That microphone wasn’t meant to record music—its heavy compressors were designed to turn down loud sounds while amplifying quiet ones. The equipment also utilized a noise gate, which meant the recorded sounds were cut off shortly after they started. The result was a bright, fleeting percussive sound unlike anything heard in popular music.

Gabriel loved the effect, and made it the signature sound on the opening track of his album. A year later, Collins featured it in his hit single “In the Air Tonight,” perhaps the most famous example of gated reverb to date.

The sound would come to define music of the 1980s and many contemporary artists continue to use it today. Get the full history of gated reverb below.

[h/t Vox]

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entertainment
‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ Could Have Been a Meat Loaf Song
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Imagine a world in which Bonnie Tyler was not the star performer on the Royal Caribbean Total Eclipse Cruise. Imagine if, instead, as the moon crossed in front of the sun in the path of totality on August 21, 2017, the performer belting out the 1983 hit for cruise ship stargazers was Meat Loaf?

It could have been. Because yes, as Atlas Obscura informs us, the song was originally written for the bestselling rocker (and actor) of Bat Out of Hell fame, not the husky-voiced Welsh singer. Meat Loaf had worked on his 1977 record Bat Out of Hell with Jim Steinman, the composer and producer who would go on to work with the likes of Celine Dion and Barbra Streisand (oddly enough, he also composed Hulk Hogan’s theme song on an album released by the WWE). “Total Eclipse of the Heart” was meant for Meat Loaf’s follow-up album to Bat Out of Hell.

But Meat Loaf’s fruitful collaboration with Steinman was about to end. In the wake of his bestselling record, the artist was going through a rough patch, mentally, financially, and in terms of his singing ability. And the composer wasn’t about to stick around. As Steinman would tell CD Review magazine in 1989 (an article he has since posted on his personal website), "Basically I only stopped working with him because he lost his voice as far as I was concerned. It was his voice I was friends with really.” Harsh, Jim, harsh.

Steinman began working with Bonnie Tyler in 1982, and in 1983, she released her fifth album, Faster Than the Speed of Night, including “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” It sold 6 million copies.

Tyler and Steinman both dispute that the song was written specifically for Meat Loaf. “Meat Loaf was apparently very annoyed that Jim gave that to me,” she told The Irish Times in 2014. “But Jim said he didn’t write it for Meat Loaf, that he only finished it after meeting me.”

There isn’t a whole lot of bad blood between the two singers, though. In 1989, they released a joint compilation album: Heaven and Hell.

[h/t Atlas Obscura]

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